Dear John,

I've been pondering writing this for days.  Bringing myself to actually write it has been tough.  Part of me feels like writing it will make everything even more real than what it actually is.  But the other part of me feels like if I put it off, I will regret it.  Isn't living a good life about not having regrets?  So, here we are.

I remember when I met you - not the exact date, but a rough idea.  It was the summer of 2008.  We met in the Mayes' garage.  We were fresh out of competitive gymnastics (i.e., just learning what it was like to have a life) and I don't know how you guys got roped into hanging out.  In all honesty, you and I didn't exactly hit it off.  I don't know that we actually disliked each other (well maybe you didn't like me, idk) but we weren't fast friends.

Our friendship grew over these last 4 years.  I can't pinpoint the exact date - again, however, I can tell you that the first year our boys played football was a turning point in our friendship.  We started talking more, just you and I.  We had some GREAT conversations.  During those summer practices, I learned a lot about who you really were.  I learned to understand you more.  

You and I, we're a LOT different.  Basically, we are almost polar opposites.  We have different beliefs and different interests, but for some reason, none of that matters.  If anything, it gives us more interesting conversations and even more things to debate.  

Two years have passed since the boys started playing football.  In that two years, you became one of my very best friends.  That may sound cheesy, but it's true.  There are very few people on this planet that I trust enough to pour my heart out to and can tell damn near everything.  YOU are one of those few people.  I know that what I tell you will remain with you.  I know that you will not judge me based on my sometimes silly decisions or actions.  I know that regardless of what may be going on, you are always there for me.

When you were diagnosed a year ago, I was crushed, to say the least.  This is not unfamiliar territory for me, but it is territory I would rather not travel.  I had a few talks with Phil and a long talk with another good friend about what to do.  I won't lie, a huge part of me wanted to run away.  I wanted to stop talking to you because I didn't think I was strong enough to walk this road with you.  Honestly, I am still not sure I am strong enough.

That said, I am not walking away.  It took me a bit of soul searching, but in the end, I knew I was in for the long haul.  I am still here, where I will be, right up until the end.

You are an amazing man, John!  I don't know if those around you realize how amazing you are and I quite often don't think YOU realize how amazing you are. I am sad that our time together is limited.  I am broken hearted that you have to endure this God awful disease.  I wish that I could make it all go away and that we could just go back to hanging out at the Murphy's playing stupid games and laughing about Lance and his leg shaking.  

I can't.  I can't stop any of it.  I can't even slow it down.  What I can do is promise you that I will love you until the end of time.  I promise you that I will hold your hand and be with you every chance that I get.  

Thank you.  Thank you for being my friend.  Thank you for loving me for who I am - as goofy as I am.  Thank you for accepting me.  Thank you for watching out for my kids and being a good friend to Phil.  Thank you for the endless laughs and the great times.  

From now until it is your time to move on, I will tell you I love you as often as I can!  I love you!

Jamie

We're doing something right

All too often as parents, we question whether we're doing it right.  The kids sass us and have attitude problems and pout and whine and argue.  Those are the moments we unfortunately focus on way too much.  Then there are moments like the one I just had that make me realize that we are doing something right.

Many people have judged me lately and labeled me an awful hateful person.  That's ok.  I've even had people comment on my parenting skills.  That's ok too.  I don't expect everyone to like me or agree with me - whatever.  Here's the thing, you can say what you want about me, but obviously, I am doing something right (with Phil of course) in regard to my children.

The girl just did a phone interview with a local news guy.  He was asking her all about the state cross country meet.  She was fabulous.  She sounded all grown up (made me tear up a bit).  She answered all of his questions and made a point of talking about her coaches and team.  I was very proud.

Then came that moment that pushed me beyond proud to something even more.  She hung up the phone and said, "I don't know if I talked about the team enough.  I don't know if I made it clear to him how important the team and my coaches are.  Do you think I emphasized them enough?  I feel like it's been all about me lately, but it's really about all of us."

Seriously?  That made my heart swell.  She did, in fact, speak of her team and coaches.  I was proud of her when she was speaking.  I am so beyond proud of raising a child who, while she is proud of what she has accomplished, she is wise enough to be humble as well.  She did not get there on her own.  While she may have run the race on her own, her teammates were there screaming their heads off for her.

So, for all of you AMAZING girls on that team - Courtney, Abbey, Mariah, Brittney, Amanda, Leanna, Stacy, Emily and ALL of the other girls - please know that Megan (and the rest of the Kline's) appreciate you and all of your hard work and dedication.  YOU push her as much as she pushes you.  And Coach Stafford - you're one in a million!  We love you!

By the numbers

So, I don't think some people actually understand the magnitude of yesterday. They ask how she did and I tell them she was amazing and got 92nd and they then say something along the lines of..."oh, well good job."  Like 92nd is a bad thing.  Let me break this down a bit for you....

92nd out of 228 girls in her division.  She was in the top 40%.  Still not impressed?

Ok, there was a grand total of 954 girls competing yesterday - that's all divisions.  She was 177th overall.  That's the top 18%.  Better?

In her division there were 40 freshman.  She was 18th overall. Once again, the top 45%.

How about this....there were 186 freshman and she was 28th overall.  That's the top 15%.

But let's take this one - there are roughly 595 girls cross country teams in the lower peninsula.  While a varsity team consists of 7 girls, only the top 5 scores count.  So, for the sake of argument, we're going to go with 5.  With all of those teams, that makes a total of 2975 girls attempting to make it to state.  Only 954 girls made it.  She was one of those 954.  That means she beat out roughly 2020 girls to get there.  How's that for impressive?

You, sir, are a....

Douche bag.  Yes, you are a douche bag.  Ok, so I might be a little bit OCD and little things might irritate the hell out of me.  I know this about myself.  I know that I'm a freak.  I can admit this about myself.  But there are just some things that seem to be common sense that people just don't get and I find it ludicrous.

Today's "douche bag of the day" is the owner of this lovely little gem....

Nice ride, isn't it??  Here's my bitch.  Can you see the sign back there?  The blue one?  No?  Well here.....

Yep, it says "COMPACT ONLY."  Seriously???  One would think that after what 6 or 7 years in school to become a doctor you would have learned what a compact car is.  An SUV is NOT a compact car.  The lower part of that sign reads something along the lines of...do not hang over the line, or something like that.  So let's take another look....

Yes, genius, you are MOST DEFINITELY over the damn line.  Now, if this were an incredibly large parking ramp, it might not be as big of a deal.  However, the driving lanes are very narrow.  So, for this dumb ass to be parked right on the damn corner, it's kind of an inconvenience to EVERYONE.  Even if you didn't learn what a compact car was during your bazillion years in school, I would have thought you would have learned to fricking read.

You, sir, are a douche bag.  If I had been driving one of the other cars, I may well have hit your stupid SUV, just for kicks.

Today...another typical day

Well, it's been a day.  Here's a recap.  Had to be up early this morning (6:45) to pick Meg and a friend of hers up from the church lock-in at the local YMCA.  Dropped off her friend and returned home.  Proceeded to crawl back into bed and sleep for a couple more hours.  Then got up and started to get around.  Had to wake Meg up at noon to have her get ready to go meet the cross country team to a trip to the regional course.  Dropped her off at 12:45.  Back home and got myself ready for the video shoot.

What video shoot?  I came up with this "brilliant" idea to do an anti-bullying video to a song that I think is fabulous.  So, today, a group of my wonderful friends and some of my family met us at a park so we could shoot part of the video.  Bout a half hour or so into shooting, my mom was't feeling so well.  She ended up sitting out.

The video moved on to another area of the park, but mom still wasn't well.  Ended up calling 911 and having an ambulance take her to the hospital.  In the end, the issue was that she was dehydrated and hadn't eaten enough today.  She's alright.  There were other issues that need to be addressed, but she is fine.  Added prayers would be appreciated.

Some of you may know that I have been incredibly stressed out lately.  Between work, my "haters," and a few other things, my stress level is stupid high.  Well, while I was waiting for Phil to pick me up from the hospital (I sent mom and Jen on their 2 1/2 hour trek back home), a woman walked over to chat with me.  (I was sitting outside on a bench)  The woman just started casually chatting with me.  

Her name is Shari.  She is from Florida.  She has no family here.  She came here a few months ago to work construction.  She got sick.  She's been in the hospital for a month.  She was diagnosed with brain, bone, and breast cancer.  The doctors have given her until Christmas.

It was when she showed me the burns from radiation that go from her left shoulder blade all the way down to about the middle of her chest (past where her left breast used to be) that I realized that my stressors are minor.  My stressors are so small and insignificant.  They at times seem so big and overwhelming for me but in the big scheme of things, they are all tolerable. 

This woman has strength like you wouldn't believe.  She admitted to being scared.  It was obviously a definite blow.  Apparently there are talks of sending her to U of M.  I will tell you this, though, while she is at my hospital, I will visit her daily.  If nothing else, I hope that I can make this path that God has chosen for her more tolerable.  I wish she could be with her family, but if that isn't going to be possible, I sure won't let her die alone.

So, tonight, while you are pondering all the shitty things that happen in your life, take a moment to love your family and friends.  Let them know how much they mean to you and realize that all the obstacles that get thrown in your way - are tolerable.  You can survive.  I know that my problems are not that big and that there are others suffering far more than me.  I am going to make an effort to make sure that at least this one person - knows that she is loved and appreciated.

The price of tea in Pakistan....

Right, so the title of this blog has absolutely NOTHING to do with what I have to say.  I figured it would discourage my shining fan club of haters from reading - although, if they do - ROCK ON.  I've determined today must be National Jackhole Day.  All of them are rising out of the woodwork and wreaking havoc. FANTASTIC!  Gives me something to blog about, now doesn't it?!  On the menu for today's blog?  Me.

Yep, that's right.  This is all about me.  Yesterday I was upset or angry or hurt or irate or a combination of all of those.  Then I realized (again) that with every good cause there will be naysayers.  I, of course, have my fair share of naysayers.  My "fan club" if you will, of haters.  The funny thing is, all of them profess to know me or to understand me.  Really?

Here's the thing.  I don't pretend to be anyone but who I am.  I am loud, outspoken, bitchy, sensitive, rude, judgmental, crude, obnoxious, goofy, silly, gassy, intelligent and loving.  Yes, loving.  If you are someone who means something to me, then you know that I love with everything I have.  I would do damn near to anything for those I love.  I will defend them, cry with them, hold them, laugh with them....you get the idea. I am also a bitch.  If I don't like you, it's usually obvious.  That's who I am.  Does that make me a perfect person?  HELL. NO.  Did I say in that description of myself that I was perfect?  No, I did not.  I'm not a perfect parent, person, wife, daughter, sister, cousin, niece, friend, granddaughter, dog owner, etc.  In no aspect of my life am I perfect.  I have PLENTY of flaws.  Many of them, highly unattractive.  It is what it is and I am who I am.  

I don't expect everyone to like me.  I don't care if everyone likes me.  What I don't like is for people to hate me or treat me like shit.  I don't like people who don't know me to judge me.  Many of you are still harboring ill will because of the deleted blog.  You are judging me based on what you read.  You are not judging me for who I am.  You also do not respect that everyone is allowed their own opinion.  Sorry - I'm not sorry.

I was told yesterday that I am a "joke."  That same person also made a comment to the affect of "if they really knew you."  You're right, if they AND YOU, really knew me then I'd give you a pass to take your shots at me.  Go ahead.  The thing is, YOU DON'T KNOW ME.  You only know what you're reading.  You only know what you see in a small part of my life.  You only know what you assume.

Another someone shared with me that a hater had posted that I should be ashamed of myself for creating the support page.  Really?  Since when is it a bad thing to support someone in need?  Or is the real problem that you think I'm a hypocrite?

Let me ask you this, do you act the exact same with a group of 10 year olds that you do when you're with your very best friends?  If you do, ok, rock on.  I don't.  When I'm with a group of 10 year olds, I'm a mom.  When I'm with a group of my very best friends or with all my bazillion sisters, I'm an idiot.  I belch and fart and swear like a sailor.  I shove jello shots in my shirt to save them for later.  Am I embarrassed?  Hell no!  Why should I be?  When I'm with the people who love me, why can't I let go?

That's what my blog is.  I let go.  You don't like it?  I don't give a shit.  YOU don't have to read it.  Yes, I am all warm and fuzzy on the support page.  I am busting my ass to bring awareness to something that is plaguing this world.  I am busting my ass to ensure that kids and adults all over DON'T have to feel how I feel right now.  

Basically, what I'm saying is - to my "fan club" - whatever.  Hate on, kids.  While it may hurt me and piss me off, I know deep down that what you think and what you say doesn't matter and no one really cares.

I conformed....

Yep, you read it right, I conformed.  I gave in to the haters. I bowed to what they wanted.  I have to admit I'm pretty embarrassed and actually ashamed of myself.  No, I'm not ashamed or embarrassed of my blog.  I'm ashamed and embarrassed that I didn't have the balls to leave it up. I'm ashamed and embarrassed that I allowed what someone else thought try to change me.

Here's the thing.  I posted the blog.  That blog was true for me.  Did you read that - FOR ME.  I didn't call out the town because I don't want people to pass judgment on it because of what I said.  Experience it yourself.  My blogs are just that - mine.  YOU don't have to read them.  You do have to click on it to read it.  Why in God's name you would click on it when it was titled "FUCK YOU" and think it was going to be some mushy gushy stuff, I don't know.  Not my problem.

I got a lot of hate mail.  To be honest, I laughed.  We are each entitled to our own opinions.  I respect that you have one - respect mine. You don't have to agree with me.  I'm totally ok with you not agreeing with me.  But I am allowed to have my own opinion. The one that did me in - and there was only one....was someone I had great respect for.  Someone who was unlike the rest and did not judge based on (I thought) what people believed.  This person shared with me how hateful and angry I was.  Here's the thing - I was pissed when I wrote it, but the reality is, I was pissed for that moment.  

Oddly enough, I'm not an angry person.  Although I play it well.  Anyway, because of that one person and how deeply hurt I was by him, I deleted the blog.  Then I got to thinking.  The more I thought, the more pissed I got.  Here's the thing - I get it.  You're pissed because I walked into your house and called you out.  I called you out to this little blog world in all your foulness.  Lemme ask you this, though, put this in a real life perspective...

Had I literally walked into your house - left and blogged about how nasty you are, would you have just sent me hate mail?  Would you have just passed it off as me being a psycho?  Would you have yelled about what an angry person I am (ironic I must say that you were YELLING about me being angry)? 

Or would you have done all of those AND turned around and looked at your house to see if there really was something wrong?  Wouldn't you want to ensure that I was just a raving lunatic?  Wouldn't you want to assure yourself that my claims were invalid?

Not one of you took the time to do that.  YOU judged me because I judged your "house." I judged your "house" based on MY experiences there.  Last time I checked, we all have different experiences.  That's why I'm totally ok with you loving your house.  That's fantastic - I'm GLAD you have good memories and great experiences.  No sarcasm - straight from the heart.  That's great.  BUT before you run around talking about how none of what I said is true - maybe you should check.

Just sayin.

Insanity Recap

So, let's do a little recap here.  Obviously, I've already blogged about the page on facebook.  Unless you live in a hole, you've probably heard about it somewhere.  I'm not being cocky, I'm stating a fact.  I started a little itty bitty page for a young lady.  I expected to get a few hundred "likes" and ended up with - the last time I checked - 95,000.

Wait, what?  Yup, that's right, 95,000.  Whoa.  Over the past week and a half(ish) I have received phone calls from Ryan Seacrest, The Today Show, Good Morning America, Mojo in the Morning, Mlive, and Dateline among others.  I've gotten emails from The View, and a couple news and radio stations in Canada.  Now, none of these people want to talk to me - which is A-OK, but I gotta tell ya, it's cool as hell that I have been getting those calls.

That aside, here are some things I've learned. 
1. The media is relentless and overwhelming but can be incredibly kind and helpful.  Without the media, this would not have gotten so big. 
2. Social media, when used properly, can reach thousands of people.
3. People are still douchebags.  Yep, I said it - maybe that makes me a bully which goes against everything I've been preaching, but I prefer to see it as brutal honesty.  With any "cause" there will be haters.  I've gotten to see them, delete them, and ban them...first hand.
4. Things like this - finding something you can grab onto and do something about - or at least try to - these things....they change you.  Meg told me the other day that she was going to miss me being mean...I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing...*insert awkward laugh here*

One of the most amazing things for me?  Facebook shows you how many people have "seen" your posts on a page. One of my posts reached 95000 people....

I realize not all of those people read what I wrote, but I gotta tell you....never in a BAZILLION TRILLION years did I think that anything I wrote would get past maybe 20 people.

Wow. 

Happy/Sad

So, I'm pretty sure it's relatively common knowledge that I don't really like people.  If you didn't already know that, you obviously don't know me.  I think it is also relatively common knowledge that I am not a huge fan of people spending an extended period of time in my house.  Partially, of course, because I don't like people and partially because of all it requires of me.  I'm not talking about cooking/cleaning.  No, I'm referring to the having to shower regularly on the weekends and putting a bra on on Sunday.  Shut up - don't judge me. 

For the past three weeks, our daughter-in-law has been staying with us.  Let me give you a little back story first.  I suppose technically she is my step-dil, however, I don't think of Eric as my step-son; therefore, Angelina is not my step-dil.  Anyhoo, she and I didn't exactly hit it off when we first met 6 years ago (my gawd, was it really that long ago?!?).  As a matter of fact, I'm not sure who disliked who more (who or whom?).  

However, since then, we learned that we actually like each other (if you don't like me, Angelina - here is the part where you lie to make me feel good...).  Eric and Angelina have been planning moving here for the past year.  They use to live in Dallas.  For a reason that at the time seemed logical, Angelina came up here 3 weeks before Eric.  She has been staying with us.  Eric got here today.  

He arrived pretty early and we got them all moved into their temporary home. Well, we got the moving truck unloaded and the window coverings hung.  They have a bunch of unpacking to do.  

I have to admit, as glad that I am that Eric is here now and my little family is truly complete, I'm also sad.  Over the past 3 weeks, my fondness for Angelina changed or morphed or something.  I absolutely love this young lady with all of my heart.  I loved having her stay with us.  I loved talking to her and spending time with her.  I loved playing silly card games and shopping and just generally being in the same room with her.  

For me - that's something.  So, I guess the point of this blog is basically to say, thank you to Angelina.  Thank you for spending time with me - even though we're obviously polar opposites.  Thank you for running around with us to all the crazy sporting events at god awful times - (6:00 a.m. on a Saturday is a sin).  Thank you for just being you.

I am so thankful that you both are here and I love you both with all of my heart!

Who can make a difference?

Have you ever wondered if you can make a difference?  Have you ever snorted at the saying "one person can make a difference?  My answer is yes to both of those questions.  It's not that I don't want to make a difference, it's that I didn't think I could.  That's not to say that I haven't had moments where I have felt accomplished.  Good grief, I coached (and still coach) gymnastics and there is something so personally satisfying to have the girls get all excited when they get a new skill - it's an amazing feeling.

However, the other day, I read of an injustice done to a young lady.  To some it may seem a minor annoying injustice, but I felt strongly about it.  In the town where I graduated from high school, some young people decided to play what they considered a "joke" on a classmate.  They chose to nominate her for their homecoming court - even though they didn't really like her.  The point was to publicly humiliate her. Well, initially they thought they succeeded.  She won the nomination.  Then the little bastards shared with her that they only did it as a joke and they didn't really want her to win.

Seriously?  Yep, so this is where I stepped in. I've kept relatively quiet about this personally.  What I mean is, I have attempted to keep my name out of it.  Not because I'm not proud of it, but because I don't want this to be about me. This ISN'T about me.  This is about the huge issue we have in this country in bullying.  I've done a TON of research on bullying lately and to be honest, it's frightening.

Anyhoo, I took it upon myself to create a facebook page.  You should go there now and "like" it.  I did it because I felt that the community needed to be aware of the situation and come together to support this beautiful young woman.

WELL, that sure did work.  We currently have 3025 "likes."  SERIOUSLY?!!??  Whit's story has been broadcast by multiple television stations across the country.  ACROSS THE COUNTRY.  I was checking the page earlier and crying my eyes out.  The community sure did come together - her dress, shoes, hair, dinner, etc. have all been paid for.  The number of people posting kind words and thoughts is surreal. 

I am floored.  I am so floored, that I am now considering starting a foundation to bring awareness to and fight against bullying.  Not kidding.

Moral of the story - ONE PERSON CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE.  If you believe in it - stand up for it.  If YOU think it's worth it - support it.  

Everyday I'm strugglin'

So, it's pretty common knowledge to those closest to me that I have been in a funk for about, oh gosh, I don't know - 3 weeks now. It's rough.  The worst part is, it's not a generic funk.  I can pinpoint exactly what the issues are.  The problem is, I can't figure out how to fix them.  

I can tell you first and foremost that I am sick and fucking tired of people bitching at me for having a rough day (ok week....well fine, a few weeks, but who's counting?!).  I. AM. ONLY. HUMAN.  Here's the thing, I have not ever said that my life is worse than anyone elses.  I have not ever said that my life is so terrible that I can't go on.  What I have said and am saying is that it is incredibly overwhelming right now and I don't know how to handle it. So, if you're reading this and you are now pondering telling me to suck it up cuz you know people who have issues far worse....save it.  I don't care and I don't want to hear it. 

Second, I quoted a song with the title of this blog - well sort of....the real words are "everyday I'm shufflin'" but I thought mine fit.  I am so fucking tired of struggling.  I am tired of trying to do everything right and nothing ever working out.  Everything is always a struggle.  Nothing is EVER easy.  I, well we, can't catch a fucking break.  Am I really that bad of a person?

Third, I despise being jealous, but I am.  I am jealous as hell of those who do not struggle.  Those who do not have to wonder what bills to put off so that the children can be fed.  Or those who can randomly go away for a weekend without having to think of the repercussions.  

Finally, I fucking hate being in a funk.  I hate feeling like this.  I hate that I am blogging about it and putting my whiney ass bullshit out here for the world.

Bah.

Wow. Did that just happen?

Ok, well.  Gosh, I don't even know how to start this.  Let me start by saying, those of you who know me - really know me - know that I find somethings that are rather, well, shall we say tasteless?? - rather funny.  Those of you that know my family know what makes us (well three of us) laugh.  We burp.  We fart.  We might even have unofficial contests.  HOWEVER, ya gotta draw the line at some point.

Why must I blog about this?  Ha.  Let me share the conversation I just had.  I had to call a patient to get information that the hospital failed to get (as usual).  So, I call the patient and this is how the conversation goes...

Me:  "May I speak to Nas T. Ass?"

Patient:  "This is Nas T. Ass."

Me:  " Good morning, Mr. Nas T. Ass, I am calling from this fine establishment to get some information in regard to the thing you had.  We were given blah blah blah, but need blah blah blah."  (Sorry, HIPAA - gotta be careful)

Patient:  "Crap."  Long pause.  "Well, I can get you that information..." (Oh how I wish he had ended the sentence right there.) "But, I'm in the hospital right now, as we speak, on the toilet."

Me:  Dead silence.  Holding back a snort.  "Ok, Mr. Nas T. Ass, I'll give you a call again in a few days."

I, of course, then hung up the phone and just sat here at my desk staring at it.  SERIOUSLY?!?!  WHO ANSWERS THEIR CELL PHONE WHILE SITTING ON THE SHITTER?!?!?  AND ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE STILL IN THE DAMN HOSPITAL.

I have zero faith in humanity.

My mom nominated me...

So, my mom was nominated for the Liebster Blog Award.  Her blog explains what it is.  (Nevermind that you should check out her blog anyway...just sayin') She, in turn decided to nominate my blog (which is a tiny bit silly only because I believe it is an award for nice people, which I think I have proven I am not.  She also nominated a few other people that I know such as my friend Andy, and my friend, Jen, and this great new author, Wilson Jennings. 


I guess along with the nomination comes some questions that you are expected to answer....so, here are my answers - although I have not yet decided whether or not I will answer seriously or sarcastically.

1) What is your biggest dream?

This is a really tough question for me.  I can tell you what my dreams were 18 years ago...I wanted to graduate from college with a double major and double minor.  My hopes were to one day own my own dance studio.  Over the years, my dreams have changed.  I will always love to dance, but that's not my dream anymore. To be honest, I don't know that I have a "personal" dream anymore which is in itself, rather depressing.  I may have to revisit that at some point.  However, my dreams at this point center around my children and what my hopes and dreams are for them.

2) Do you have a plan for making it happen?

LOL - well, I guess in regard to my children, sure.  I have all kinds of plans to figure out how to help them succeed.

3) What keeps you going when you want to give up?

Mountain Dew, of course.  What else could possibly keep me going?  Seriously?  My family.

4)Who are your favorite musicians and why?

Oh Lord, I can't answer this question in just one blog.  I have a very diverse interest in music.  I like just about everything and I don't know that I have an absolute favorite or favorites.  It depends on the day or my mood.

5) If you could invite anyone at all to dinner who would it be and why?

Do you mean someone famous?  Gosh, I don't know.  Smart ass answer?  Will Smith or Shemar Moore or Sean Connery, Jason Terry or Mark Cuban.  Why?  Cuz they are dead sexy and I would of course propose.

Seriously?  The Queen of England.  I admire her and her grace.

6) What's one thing you'd like to change about the world?

Stupid people.  I would like to change the amount of stupid people who populate the earth.

7)What is one small thing you can change?

Stupid people.  Well, I could if someone would just give me a damn taser...

8) Where do you see yourself in five years?

HA.  That's a darn fine question.  Probably where I am now - still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

9) Who do you most admire and why?

Whoa - another long list.  Mostly, I admire myself and my insane beauty, remarkable intelligence, and charming personality.  *choke*  Sorry, I couldn't resist.

Reality?  My mother - for showing me that hard work pays off and for proving that one person can make a difference in someone's life.  She is by far one of the most amazing women on this planet.

My grandparents - for their dedication to each other and their family and for loving us all unconditionally.

My husband - for overcoming major obstacles and finding himself.

My children - for showing me life through their innocent eyes.

10) What one thing about yourself would you share?

I am really not that interesting.

11) Which is more important making millions or making a change?

Change - duh.  However, it would be easier to make a change with millions ;)  Just sayin....

Dear Inappropriate Asshat,

First, I would like to thank your mother for not suffocating you as a child.  No really, I'm glad you're still breathing the same air as me.  That's great.  Second, I would like to thank your father for donating the obviously demented sperm to create you.

I do not know where (or more likely - IF) you went to school or where you grew up.  Ha, I mean, where you lived from birth to now as you have obviously not grown up; HOWEVER, it is quite obvious that you are an uneducated juvenile worthless piece of shit.

What was my first clue?  Well, that would be the fact that you're probably between 35-45, walking through the hospital with your "sagging" shorts with (of course) your whitey tighties showing.  (This proves that you actually are a douchecanoe)  Along with the unkept hair and filthy wife-beater shirt on. 

The second clue was when you looked at me and said, "Hey, baby, nice rack." 


Excuse me?  Let's get one thing clear, while you are in fact correct and I do actually have a "nice rack" what you said is offensive.  I am not, have never been, nor will I ever be your baby.  Fuck off.  Second, don't address me by the size of my chest.  LOOK AT MY FUCKING EYES IF YOU WANT TO TALK TO ME FUCKTARD.

Although, I realize you can't do that.   I know that if you look into my eyes you will realize that you really are a disgrace to the human race and a boil on the ass of society.  So, instead, you choose to prove this point by gawking at my boobs. 

You're damn lucky I have class.  You're also damn lucky there were a bunch of people around since I considered showing you another great asset...my ability to kick you in the nuts AND laugh about it. Please, for the sake of humanity, never speak again. 

Sincerely,
The Bitch

It's called SPELL CHECK!

Yes, i am awear that i were bichin about this the other day, but I thawt it needed re-visiting.  FOR GOD'S SAKE USE THE DAMN SPELL CHECK, YOU IDIOTS.  Do you know how hard it was for me to even type that first sentence all shitty like that.  Good frickin grief - and then to not go back and fix it...UGH.

So, I'm still getting resumes sent to me for the two positions we have open.  Thankfully, (hopefully) I will be able to close that soon and I won't be receiving these atrocities anymore.  This is an example of the "cover letter" type things I have been getting...

"Dear Sir or Madam I read with great interest you ad for Medical Receptionist which apppeared in The Micigan Talant Bank,. I am encouraged as my background matches the qualifications you are seeking. As you will not from my enclosed resume, I recently graduated from (insert the name of an incredibly bad "teaching" institute here) as Medical Billing and Coding. Although I ecelled in both clinical and administrative skills, the administrative area is where I feel most confident. Many of my qualifications center around clinical field. I feel this experience, along with newly acquired clerical skills, makes me an excellent candidate for your Medical Receptionist position. I look forward to meeting you personally and will call next week to arrage a meeting at your conveniece. I welcome the opportunity to prove that I can make an effective contribution to the company."

Ok, so, I'm pretty sure you can pick out the obvious issues - and if not, you're an idiot too.  There are so many spelling errors in here, there's not one teeny tiny slim chance in hell that I would ever even remotely consider this person a candidate for any position other than to be showcased on my blog for not taking the damn time to do it right. Spelling issues aside...IT'S NOT A MEDICAL RECEPTIONIST POSITION.  I get that this is probably a generic cover letter, but you have to change the damn position title, MORON.

Nevermind that it is quite obvious to me that she certainly did "ecell" in her administrative skills - as proven by her stellar cover letter.  I assure you, the resume is just as beautiful. 

Next....

Shhhh....I'm hiding....

No seriously - I am....I'm curled up in the fetal position in the corner of the bathroom with the door locked and the water running in hopes that no one will ever find me.  Why?  Because - the fucktards are everywhere....I'M NOT KIDDING.  Everywhere I turn there's another one and I have to tell you - these fucktards are FAR more frightening than zombies.  These creatures are so stupid they make zombies look like rocket scientists.

First we have the lady on the phone - "You're charging my mother for a no show fee. I called the Better Business Bureau and you cannot legally charge for services you did not provide."

*sigh*  Well, she's partially right - no one can legally charge you for services that were not provided.  However, we're NOT charging your mother for an office visit.  We're charging your mother for not showing up to TWO office visits.  The fee is $25 (for each missed visit) as opposed to the fee for an actual visit which is a bare minimum of $75.  If you would like, I can certainly talk to the doctor about raising our no show fee?  I was, of course, sugary sweet while stating these facts.  She then fires back at me, "Look, you don't know me and I don't know you and I don't want to start a pissing match that I will win."

I'm sorry, what?  Right, ok, I got it.  You are a fucktard and I cannot lower myself to speak with you anymore.  Buh-bye now.  I think while I'm sitting here on the floor I will google and see if it is legal to charge people extra for being fucktards.  There has to be some kind of loop hole that allows for charging for ignorance...

Then there's the "new" guy.  First off - thanks fucktards for informing me.  Second - how about this phone call..."Hello. I am here." 

All right, that's nice.  Who the fuck are you and where the fuck is here?  Seriously?  Psychic is not on my reseme.  Let's try this again.  I ask oh-smart-one who he is and what he wants and he then shares that he is the new guy and he's meeting with some big wigs.  Basically, it was a big cluster fuck...partially because those of us who answer the phone were not informed and partially because....well, because.

I'm OH SO excited to see who the next fucktard will be.  There have been others today, however, I am not at liberty to call them out.  I think I need to start blogging under another name.

Oh well.  If you need me, I'll be pretending to have spattergoit....(that's a Harry Potter reference, btw).

T-1....Let the celebrations begin

Yep, today started the fun.  I got to leave work early and go out with the girls (from work) and have drinks and lunch on the boss.  FABULOUS!  I had a great time although I greatly missed my bff Carri.  However, since she did just have a baby, I shall forgive her.

I would love to continue celebrating this evening, however, I must bust through a crap ton of yucky homework to ensure that I do not have to do homework Friday or Saturday. 

Wish me luck - it's going to be a long night.

T-2....It could happen....

I was unable to sleep last night as I could not shut my brain off.  I tossed and turned pondering all the things that need to get done prior to graduation.  I pondered the stuff that needed to be done at work and home and how I could manage to accomplish them all.  When I finally (half-assed) shut my brain off, I had a GREAT (and by GREAT, I mean "great") dream.  It went a little like this....


I was all dressed for graduation.  I was in my "pretty" (read:  ugly) cap and gown and my cute little outfit underneath.  I was wearing my favorite pair of wedges (the same ones I intend - intended? - to wear Friday).  Here's where it's a little shady.  I know big college graduations they just introduce the degree - for example, "BSB/ACC" and everyone (with that degree) stands up and then sits down.  Amen, you have graduated. 


However, in my dream it was like high school.  So, there I go wandering up the ungodly high steps and across the 4 1/2 mile straight away to shake some creepy dude's hand and get my pretend degree.  All is fine and good until, well, I tripped.


Not only did I trip, I fell flat on my face.  Ugh. *sigh*  I fear this will happen.

T-3...OMG

Wow.  So, I've been kind of blah about this whole thing.  Like, it hasn't really set in, maybe?  Well, at least until today.  Today it seemed everything happened at once. I had a very good friend call me and talk with me about my plan for Friday.  Pretty sure it's common knowledge that I have a relatively large group of friends that we spend a lot of time with.  I haven't (or at least haven't tried to) made a big deal about this for the most part.  


Anyway, she called me today and told me that she along with all of the rest of "the crew" would be in attendance if that was what I wanted.  I don't think she realizes how special she made me feel.  I don't expect everyone to be there - it's a bit of an inconvenience and I'm unsure how much room there is and I don't want everyone to make a big deal. Yes, this is a HUGE accomplishment for me.  BUT, the fact that she even acknowledged it was enough.  


Then, another friend determined that we should have a celebratory lunch on Thursday.  I talked to my mom who told me my grandparents would be in attendance (which means the world to me) and that they would like to go to dinner with us prior to graduation.


So, while I'm all emotional about all of that ^^ I'm now also starting to panic about when we should leave here to go there and when we're going to have dinner/check into the hotel.  And how I'm going to make it to the church (which is where I'm graduating) on time.  


Yeah, it's setting in now.  I'm fricking graduating from college on Friday.  I'm sorta freaking out a little.

T-4...What Next?

That is the $57,500 (plus 6% interest) question, now isn't it?  What next?  In 6 weeks I will have completed four years of college and have obtained a Bachelor's of Science with an emphasis in Accounting.  Yes, I will have a piece of paper stating I have mastered BS.  The best part is, I will be paying through the nose for it.  Ugh.


I have no idea what to do now.  Most people would go look for a new job.  Maybe I should. But, there in lies the problem.  I have a job.  I have a job that I usually (sometimes....for the most part...at least occasionally) like.  The flaw, of course, is that part of the point of college was to ensure that I would be able to support my family.  Well, I just tacked another bazillion dollars of debt onto us.  Therefore, I have to do something, now don't I?


Here's where it gets really hairy though.  I have to factor in all of the benefits of my current job.  I won't share them all here - that's my business.  I can assure you, I have made multiple pros and cons lists.  The damn shame is, I still don't have an answer.


*sigh*  Aren't things suppose to be easier once you have a degree?

T-5 and counting....

It is a bit weird and maybe even a bit surreal.  In 5 days I will be graduating from college - with a Bachelor's Degree.  I realize that this may seem like no big deal to most people, but then, I'm not most people.


Some of you may know my (pitiful) story, others may not.  Let me enlighten you.  I went to MSU the fall after I graduated from high school.  I had BIG dreams and BIGGER goals.  My intent was to double major/double minor.  I was going to major in accounting and music and minor in dance and computers.  Stupid?  Maybe, but it covered everything for me.  My dream was to own my own dance studio.  With the accounting degree, I figured I could work until I made enough money to open the studio and then I would be able to handle the business end by myself.  The music part was (is) just because I love music and am pretty sure I cannot function without it.  Computers?  Well, computers and technology are forever changing and I felt that it was important that I was educated. 


I failed.  Miserably.  Embarrassingly.  No, I'm not kidding.  I flunked out.  I didn't have the discipline or the know how.  I won't make excuses.  I screwed up.  I decided after that that I would take a year off.  I should have.  I didn't.  I ended up staying in the area and registering at the community college. Ha.  Guess what?!  I failed again.  Again, no excuses, I (continued to) screwed up.


I gave up after that .  Obviously, I was never going to get through college so I would just be a working stiff.  I worked. I played.  I had a baby.  I got married.  I had another baby.  I decided to try the community college again.  Seriously?!?  WTF is wrong with me?!?!  I tried this time.  I really did.  I got a little study group.  I worked.  I hated the "teacher."  He was like 5 years younger than me a dumb ass to boot.  Care to guess how that ended up?  Yep, another failure.


In 2008 my happy little world changed - drastically.  I had spent close to 7 years working 12-14 hour days between my "real" job and coaching.  In March of 2008 that changed.  I was no longer coaching.  Apparently, I was almost intolerable.  First, I had to adjust to not seeing my gym girls every day.  Then I had to adjust to not having anything to do.  Do you know me?  I am a constant movement kind of person.  I am ALWAYS doing something.  I do not think it is possible for me to just sit for the most part.  


I spent 3 1/2 months aggravating my family, getting fat, being semi-depressed and then I made a decision.  I decided I was going to go back to school again.  There were multiple reasons behind that decision - the most obvious being that I needed something to occupy myself.  The other reasons will remain my secret for now.  I searched the internet and did endless research trying to figure out how I could do this.  I finally settled on the University of Phoenix.  


Many people (even now) will doubt my decision.  Many people believe my degree is worth less than a degree from a "real" college.  I'm to the point now where I'm ok with that.  I make a lot of decisions that people don't agree with - always have.  The bottom line is that they are my decisions to make as it is my life. 


I have spent the last 4 years with only 10 weeks of "vacation" from school.  I have written more papers than all four years of high school and my 3 previous attempts at college combined.  I have cried more and spent more late nights working on homework than ever before.  Finally, I can see the end.  


I have 6 weeks of school left.  I graduate in 5 days and have 1 class left after graduation.  I will have an obscene amount of debt when I am done, but I will finally be able to say that I graduated from college.  I will be a college graduate.  For me, this is monumental, in some ways a dream come true.  I finally overcame an obstacle that for years I believed I would never be able to get past.  


I have survived.  I have accomplished.  I am a Phoenix.

Dumb Ass of the Day

I've decided I'm changing the name of my blog.  The new title will be "Dumb Ass of the Day."  I am forced to endure far too many interactions with dumb asses, so I surely think there should be a blog so everyone can appreciate them.  What do you think?


For example, it is now 12:11 p.m. on Friday.  FRIDAY, DAMMIT!  IT'S FRICKIN FRIDAY!  As stated in my previous blog, Fridays should be entirely clear of morons.  However, as that is not the case, I shall continue my list of people who need to be tased and determine where they fall on the list of Dumb Asses of the Day.  I'll have to figure out how to rate these idiots.


Another enlightening phone call....


"Hi, I have an account with you. The account number is blah blah blah."


I pulled up the account, note that the insurance company left a copay and deductible and prepare myself for the endless list of excuses. I ask her to verify her name and DOB which she does with very little trouble (you would be surprised how many people have issues with this). Then she starts....


"This is actually workers comp."


Can I mention to you that the claim is from September?  As in from 7 months ago....as in we have been sending her bills for 6 months. So, I ask the stupidest question ever...."Ok, did you give this information to anyone at the time of service?"


Moron - "Well, no.  I didn't think I needed to give anyone all of that.  I just figured you guys would figure it out."


It is at this point that I ponder stabbing myself with my scissors but instead envision her being jolted with my phone taser. I say to her, very calmly I might add, "No, contrary to popular belief, we are not mind readers.  If you want us to bill someone other than the insurance you gave us at the time of service, you should probably let us know."


Moron - "Well you don't have to be all snippy about it." (Can you sense my eye rolling)


I got her stupid workers comp info and took care of it.  But SHEESH WTF?!?!?!  Seriously???  Yes, yes, you are a dumb ass.

Taser Friday?

Right, so it's 8:13 on Friday morning.  I should not have to charge the taser.  I think it should be against the law - this should be a federal law mind you - for stupid people to even breathe on Fridays (and Saturdays, and Sundays, and Mondays, and....).  I've determined my first official business after I finish school (in 7 weeks, by the way) will be to use my new bachelor's degree to figure out how to create a phone taser.

Yes, you heard me correctly.  I think this will be a great seller and a big hit with those of us poor saps that deal with bill collection.  I, personally, also think it would be a pretty decent seller as an add-on with cell phone purchases.  Just think - if your husband, wife, daughter, son, mother-in-law, etc. is pissing you off by saying something aboslutely ignorant on the phone, you can just tap a little button and they get a bit of a jolt.  How is that not perfect?  Granted, people would most likely completely stop calling me (which is fine - I hate talking on the phone anway).

So, here's what set off this rant today.  I checked the voicemail this morning and of course we have Captain Douchebag calling in telling us how stupid we are because he doesn't have f&*$ing medicaid, just f&%$ing medicare.  I checked out his account.  Sure enough, we billed medicare, they left a copay, we billed medicaid - TO TRY TO HELP HIM OUT - since he used to have it.  Medicaid denied, we billed him.  Regardless, on the voicemail he called us stupid about 7 times. 

Now, here's the thing, you can call me just about anything and I can handle it.  I am called a bitch, a fucking bitch, an asshole, etc. on a daily basis.  No big deal.  When you call me stupid, though, the fucking gloves come off.  I assure you, Captain Douchebag, I am NOT stupid.  I'm also 95% sure that I am FAR more educated than you can even dream of being.

I decided to call Captain Douchebag at 7:55 this morning - yes, I purposely called him before 8 just to be an asshole.  He answered the phone and this is how the conversation went....

"This is Captain Douchebag."

"Hi, Mr. Captain Douchebag, this is Jamie from (my work) returning your phone call from yesterday."
He is, of course, not quite awake, "Oh, right, oh. Ummm."

I, being the angel that I am, "helped" him out. "I believe you had a question about your bill?"

And now begins the fun part.....

Captain Douchebag takes a deep breath and in a shakey voice states, "Oh yeah, well, I'd love to pay you, but God told me that I am going to be dead before Saturday. So, I won't be able to pay you."

I am obviously taken a bit by surprise on this one, however, I can't resist a jab or two...."I see.  Did God also tell you to tell us how stupid we are?"

We now have full blown tears from CD. "No, no, no, you're not stupid.  You're not stupid at all.  No, I just won't be able to pay you.  My priest even called to tell me good-bye."

As I have mentioned before, I am a heartless bitch.  I could sense that this phone call was only going to get worse, so I said, "Ok then.  Well, thanks anyways and rest in peace."

*sigh*  Of course I did not hang up fast enough.  I then have to hear a 10 minute rant about how he's going to die by Saturday (can't you just say tomorrow, dude?!) because he can't call his doctor until they open (I did suggest 911) and God told him and the priest told him.  He did then share that the priest actually said, "See you at 4 o'clock mass Saturday."  Not really sure how he got how that was the priest calling to say good-bye but whatever.

I did attempt to be helpful and offer some words of encouragement but he even screwed that up.  When I was actually being nice, CD says to me, "Well you're not catholic, so I don't care what you have to say.  You don't know what you're talking about anyways."

-_____-     REALLY?!?!  YOU, sir, are exactly the kind of religious jackass that I cannot stand.  I then imagined my phone taser going haywire and said (again), "Whatever, Mr. Captain Douchebag.  Rest in peace." 

And, I hung up.

YOU'VE WON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yep, you read that right....you've won.  Well, not you - the person reading this, but some people have won.  What have they won?  Well, I have compiled a short list of people who will be first in line for a quick little buzzing from my handy dandy new taser (when I get it).

In all fairness, before I begin my list, I must tell you that the husband and the daughter are convinced that I am a bit on edge lately.  It may be (as they believe) because I am graduating soon.  It may be because my tolerance for bullshit gets lower as I get older.  OR it may just be one of those kinds of weeks/months. 

Anyway, here we go...

1. The person in first place (there's actually two...both from the past week).  There is a sign on a certain road advising you that the right lane ends.  I believe there may even be two signs.  So, as you are driving along in the right lane apparently either ignoring the fact that the lane ends or believing that you own the road so it doesn't matter if there are other cars (they should, of course, stop for you), do not be surprised when you receive a friendly "little" jolt from my damn taser.  REALLY, YA DAMN IDIOT?!?!?  The sign is there for a reason.  Your lane ends.  And the guy yesterday...yeah, I slowed down so he could get over.  He, being god's gift to the world of course, continued to poke along in the right lane...you know, the lane that ends.  So, I sped up.  Yeah, guess what he did then?!?!?  He also sped up and THEN thought it would be a good idea to flip me off AND ride my ass.  That didn't work out so well for him....I mind tased him multiple times and then slammed on my brakes just for good measure.

2. I get breakfast from the cafeteria here almost everyday.  Not only do I get breakfast almost everyday, my order is almost always the same.  By almost always, I mean 98% of the time.  Yesterday, I placed my order, and the girl served it up in my happy little container.  I took it to the register where there was a different cashier than normal.  We'll call her Bitchy Bertha.  There's a rule that you have to open your container so the cashier can see what you ordered.  I have no problem with that.  Like always, I open the container and fire off what I ordered which happened to be eggs, half tots and two bacon.  Bitchy Bertha looks at me (obviously begging for a tase) and says, "That's not a half order of tots."

I calmly look at her and state, "I ordered eggs, half tots and two bacon.  This is what I was given."

Bitcy Bertha hikes her fat ass up on her stool so that she can be eye level with me and says, "Well, it's not half tots and I'm charging you for a full order."

At this point I charged the taser (or at least the one in my mind).  I have no problem with you charging me whatever you feel is necessary UNLESS you're going to be a complete prick about it.  So, being the charming person that I am, I took a handful of my tots out of my container and placed them on her cash register and said, "There, is that better?"

These are the current winners of the first tasing....please stay tuned for more...

Ultimate Blog Party 2012

It's a little crazy, I know, I thought it looked like fun.  You need to first check this out....Ultimate Blog Party 2012.  I figured what the hell.  I'm not really all about having 10 bazillion people read my blog, but I am all about reading other people's blogs.

I use my blog mostly to bitch and complain.  Occassionally I share my greatest fears - ok, not really, but I do share work nonsense.  It's probably illegal in some way. 

I don't do too many blogs about my kids, but I do have some - kids that is.  And if you really like m (very few people do) you can check out my photo project here.

Happy reading!

Anal Retentive Defined...

I've joked a few times about my OCD issues.  I had some friends in college that referred to someone as anal retentive.  I think I'm somewhere in the middle of both of those.  I have some quirks at home, but it's mostly the stuff at work where I get really really bitchy.  


The thing is, my first office job I worked for an incredibly anal man.  I had to pick the mail up from the post office box, sort it, open it, organize it by person, organize it in a file folder by size and importance and have it on his desk by the time he got there in the morning.  No, I'm not exaggerating - even a little.  If an envelope was out of place - for example if a larger piece of mail was placed in front of it - I would get called into the office and spoken with rather firmly.  Then, I had to go and redo it.  He wasn't just anal abut the mail....it was everything.  While I may have complained about it then, it's something I held onto.  He taught me to have respect for my job - regardless how menial or trivial it seemed.


Ok, all of that back story brings me to my current issue.  I cannot understand why it is that people staple papers together like this...

Seriously?  It would have taken you maybe 3 more seconds to make sure the paper was all even.  Nevermind that it is far easier to file when it is done neatly.  AND it just looks like shit.  We're not in kindergarten here, TAKE SOME PRIDE IN WHAT YOU DO.


Then there's the paper that is folded in "half" like this....

This gives me a fucking twitch.  Really?  Again, 3 more seconds to make it even.  Do you really have something better to do?  I work here too and the answer is no you do not.  DO IT FUCKING RIGHT.


As if that's not enough, we have the issue with the mail - not the incoming mail, the outgoing mail.  It was brought to my attention (which means I then had to bring it to the perpetrators attention) that 5 separate medical claims all going to the same address were sent out in 5 different envelopes - stamped separately.  So, where it would have cost only $.90 to send them all in the same envelope, it ended up costing $2.25.  I know it's not a lot of money, but it adds up.  


The worst part is, the perpetrator looked at me and said, "That's a problem?"
*sigh* I despise people like this.  I don't like people who are lazy at work and make little effort.  I've been told I'm hard on people.  That's a true statement.  I am - not just in the work place, but in my personal life as well.  I expect A LOT from people - but ESPECIALLY at work.  I don't like it when people are lazy and fuck up and therefore affect my job. I may not always be happy with my job, but I bust my ass.  I may fart around and goof off, but my job is ALWAYS done and done well.  That's the way it should be.