Life After High School

The transition from high school to adulthood is a huge one.  I recall my own angst at entering the adult world.  I wanted to go to college, but my parents did not encourage it.  I had a full-time office cubicle job lined up for me in a highrise located in downtown Minneapolis the Monday morning after I graduated. 

I was envious of my friends going off to college.  They went to Duluth, Mankato, UW Stout, etc.  I wanted to live in a dorm and experience college life.  Instead of trying to figure out who I was and what my interests were, I stared at broker commission reports all day long doing the 8-5 Monday thru Friday grind.  I was dead at 18. 

Looking back I was a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.  I recognized the humor used in shows like 'The Office' and the cartoon strip Dilbert before they even existed.  I wish I would have done something with office culture sarcasm as I had material galore to contribute.  In fact, humor in the office was severely lacking.  They did not realize their lack of humor and taking themselves so seriously wrote the funniest material in my diaries.  That office was an institution of dorks. 

Anyway, one of my goals as a parent was to present the opportunity after high school to my kids to grow, spread their wings, and give support.  What I find so ironic is that my kids do not want to leave!  It took one 3-4 years after high school to launch.  I guess I should be a bitchier mom. 

When Ambulance Chasers Reproduce

Q:  What happens when an ambulance chasing lawyer reproduces with another ambulance chasing lawyer?
A:  Virginia traffic lawyer sextuplets. 

My son is active military duty in the DC area.  Anyway, my son got a speeding ticket.  Yes, he was dressed in his military uniform complete with military badge when Officer RedNeck SmallPenis pulled him over for speeding. 

Whoop-dee-do.  If that's the worst thing he's ever done in his life I think it's forgivable.  Pay the fine, go to traffic school, and move on.  Whatever.

What I find so interesting is the proliferation of "traffic lawyers" filling my mailbox with their magic wand solutions to wipe his traffic violation slate clean for a fee.  In one day, there were six solicitations from Virginia traffic lawyers offering their services in my California mailbox as California is still my son's address of record.  I thought spam via snail mail dead. 

In talking with my son, he is receiving just as many spam lawyer letters at his Virginia residence.  Maybe I'm a little sheltered, but since when were traffic violations open season for any blood-sucking lawyer?  I don't recall letters of representation proliferating my mailbox when my son was in an accident a few months back (also in Virginia) caused by a drunk driver who did not speak the English language. 

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh.. I get it......   the uninsured and unlicensed (read:  illegal) don't have anything to suck from.....  I get the lawyer game.  Lawyers only pursue those with perceived deep pockets. 

I suggest mandatory sterilization for the entire lawyer breed.

Intuitive Powerhouse

Who, me?  Intuitive powerhouse?  I've been told recently that my ability to cut though bullshit and assess a situation with five words or less based solely on my gut feelings should be bottled and sold. I've been told that I scare people -- especially men.  I guess men really are frightened and intimidated by a woman with a few functioning brain cells.  I guess the whammy comes because I'm underestimated by my 'innocent, little girl looks' (his words, not mine) only to serve men their own bleeding hearts that I've ripped out of their chests for breakfast. 

Don't bullshit me.  I'll figure you out.  Most of the time it's not that hard. 

The Swan: Oksana

Believe it or not, while I do not have the 85 pound body to execute the jumps, to this day I go out on the ice with my age 40+  plus body (boobs and butt included) and do my best to emulate this perfect performance.  Thank god nobody is looking. 

Seriously, when I dream at night it's always about skating.  I'm always thrilled to be on the ice -- even though I know it's melting and my skates are dull.  Such a metaphor for so many things in life.......

Men Like Big Butts (unless they have small dick)

Yeah...... guys like big butts unless they they have a small dick.

The Email Bitch

Why is it that just because some people post a group message into cyberspace they assume that it is received, read, and a reply is instantly necessary.  This is a true story about a school "fundraiser." 
I wish I could make this stuff up, but I don't have that great of an imagination. 

Word to Bored Moms on Prozac:  Don't issue cold, scathing commands aimed at the masses from your keyboard.  First of all, are you sure you have the correct email address?  Are you certain the intended recipient actually read the message?  What makes you Queen of everybody's calendar?  Don't insult and shame the masses via email touting your own hard work (and the presumed laziness of others) and then wonder why nobody is responding.  You really don't have any clue what is really going on in our private lives.  Issuing an order via email to 'bring hot dog buns to Saturday's game' may not be on the priority list when trying to arrange chemo treatments for an ailing relative. 

If you really want to communicate with me, call me.  You have my phone number.  What?  Calling everybody individually and making personal contact to mandate the donation of  my money and time is too much trouble?  I guess your cause really isn't that important now, is it? 

Delete.  

Sebastopol: PG&E Smart Meters

Good Grief.  PG&E employees are being attacked by whack-o Granola Nazis (a.k.a. the Hairy Armpit Club) in Sebastopol for installing PG&E Smart Meters. 

The Hairy Armpit Club is for certain the Smart Meter PG&E devices are from the devil and are certain to interfere with their transcendental meditations attempting to communicate with the space angel, Michael. 

Wrapping aluminum foil around their homes won't eliminate the evil PG&E Smart Meter devices!  They all should move to the mountains and live off the grid.  However, these same Granola Nazi nut-jobs all have cell phones, iPads, etc.  They would be the LAST to give up their modern devices and espresso should push come to shove. 

Suck it.  Shave your armpits and see yourselves for the fascists you really are. 

Dr. Raymont Severt: Oops, I mean Dr. Pervert

Yeah..... take a good look.  Dr. Raymond Severt (oops I meant Dr. Pervert) was charged with trying to solicit sex from a 13 year-old girl.  Just WTF is a married father of two teenagers doing on a web site soliciting sex let alone from a girl who still watches Barney and has a security blanket? 

Dr. Pervert's wife and kids must be so PROUD!  I so feel sorry for the wife AND his teenagers.  No wife or kid wants to discover that dad's a child molester.  Great.  See you all in f**** up family therapy.   

The poor wife is married to a child molester who also rips off workers' compensation insurance companies.  How do I know this?  Because I know former patients.  Each and every office visit Dr. Pervert wanted an actual x-ray of hand/wrist to "make sure it was not broken."

Bullshit.  It was about milking workers' compensation for every cent he could. 

I hope Dr. Pervert gets "milked" in other ways in prison.  Soap on a rope will not save you.  Boy, you sure do have a puuuuuuuurty mouth. 

Not Worth My Time

I feel lighter these days.  Why?  Because I am successfully shedding people in my life who just suck the life force out of me.  They are the ones who take 90% and give back 10%.  Life is not about a math equation, don't misunderstand that.  However, there's a sinking feeling in my gut when somebody is taking advantage of me and their intentions are solely looking out for their own agenda. 

My problem is that I want to silence that little voice inside of me that has never lied to me so far.  People may fool me for a while, but eventually that little voice becomes a big voice and other information is provided by the universe that solidifies what the little voice has been telling me all along.  I'm naive in wanting to give people the benefit of the doubt. 

I mourn my wasted time and energy as some people simply are not worth it. 

Team Hoppers

I have been living the childhood sports drama for 10 years.  The kids are great.  It's the parents who need to be 'betch slapped' into the next time zone. 

If your kid is not playing, it's because s/he isn't as great as you think s/he is.  There may also be an attitude issue (ahem, ahem....wonder where it comes from) and a sense of entitlement.  Parents get in a huff, and they pull Junior off to play on another team. 

Long story short.  Team hopping thinking your kid will get a better opportunity gets you NOWHERE.  Sport coaches -- even rival coaches -- keep close tabs on players and parents and they all compare notes.  Chances are you and your kid have been black balled because you are a pain in the ass, and your kid sucks at third base. 

Everybody knows this fact it except YOU.  You continue to live in your delusional Division I scholarship fantasy.  Stop it.  No college anywhere wants a whiney parent with a marginally talented kid sucking up their precious time explaining that your kid really does suck at third base and you should remove rose colored glasses accordingly. 

Coaches have enough to do. 

Spirit Lake: Healing Retreat

My friends know that the past couple of years have been challenging for me.  It's been challenging for them as well.  Since we have known each other -- for better and for worse -- since childhood, we get together to commiserate.  We laugh, we cry, we hold secret rituals, and have beer/junk food for breakfast.  There's something very freeing about the seven of us getting together in northern MN on Spirit Lake in our coven cabin with nobody around. 

I am so lucky to have such a tight group of friends.  Are we a clique?  I guess some could describe it as that.  We are a clique because we all understand each other on levels that most people don't experience and we have a shared history.  We are a closed network that is not open to just anybody.  It's not because we're stuck-up, but it's because there really is a certain philosophical view on life that transcends the material we all subscribe to.  We can sense energy and the unseen.  Our intuitions are usually right-on.  Yeah, we are a coven of witches.  We are the magnificent seven as my coven sister, SSP,  so depicted us on our own personalized, hand painted wine glasses.