Amazing Alignments

And then I visited my chiropractor and all was right in the world again.





Two weeks ago I made the mistake of trying a challenging yoga position. I have been doing yoga for years, ever since I was around 15 years old and consider myself knowledgeable in this exercise. Not educated enough it seems, because side plank pose beat my butt, more specifically tore my back muscle surrounding my L1 and L2 disk in the middle of my back and popped a vertebrae out of alignment.

The night of the exercise, please note: My first time doing yoga in about one month, I felt a little out of shape, and stopped the yoga immediately, drank an enormous glass of water, and mentally berated myself for being so out of shape that I couldn't do yoga as normal. I went on with the night as any lazy person would do, movie, cleaning then reading before bed. The next morning, my back hated me, with a deep seeded passion. I could not move, breathe, or even scream in agony because every time I took a deep breath to scream it was debilitating. Behold my first torn muscle. I feel very blessed to have had most of the diseases/injuries that are normally held for the elderly at a very young age. Shingles age 18, bulged disk age 17, torn muscle age 26. I tell ya, I'm on a roll here.

After laying in bed for a half an hour trying to think of
1.) What I did to hurt myself so badly?
2.) How to get out of bed without passing out from pain?
3.) What will I do if I can't get out of bed all day today?

Realizing that I can pull a 'mind over matter' with the physical pain I got up slowly and had zen like concentration, found my phone, called some people for help and I was on my way into the shower to loosen my muscles and make myself ready for the chiropractor. I winced at every step but was a warrior, I admit I was pretty proud of myself. After showering and downing the legal limit of Aleve one could take at once I propped myself up on the couch, wrapped in my fluffy robe with dripping wet hair and evaluated the situation. I realized yoga was to blame and the sight of the Namaste Yoga DVD set laying on my TV set my heart a blaze with anger. I limped over to it and threw it on the ground, (hey I needed some emotional drugs too and this was exactly it).

I carefully dried my hair with a towel and put on the most comfortable pair of jeans and top I could find that would let me go braless, I don't do bras when I have spine pain-it's total BS.

My ride arrived to my place and helped me in the car, we made our way to the chiropractor and I shook my head every so often in disbelief of my new and fabulous injury. The chiropractor welcomed me and informed me I had torn my muscle, and a vertebrae out of place in the same area where I had a chronic injury/weakness from when I was seventeen. Yay for me! He aligned my spine and sent me on my way with Ligaplex glandulars (best invention since Kombucha tea), a cold compress, and a business card with the next week blocked out with appointments with him.

Since then I have been laying low and hoping to heal, lots of movies, lots of lifetime, and tons of grapes to alkalinize my body. Shopping has lost its zeal since I cannot lift anything to purchase. Cooking has become unnecessary and I've grown fond of one skillet meals like Bertoli pasta bags. I have also become the scary no makeup girl that checks her mail and winces with every step. Creepy!

Healing is happening though, thank goodness and it's thanks to my chiropractor. I must say how amazing are spine alignments, huh? My chiropractor saved my back!

Until the next back injury boomerang bandits,

E Bandit

I bet there are many people out there that have benefited from spine alignments that read our blog, feel free to post your fabulous success story on this blog's comment section.

Come again?

Okay so, I have come to terms with the fact that I'm an irritable person.  If I find something that bugs me, it'll likely bug me for the entirety of my life.  I've always considered myself to be somewhat tolerant but I suppose this post would prove otherwise...  There are things that people say, things that people do, things that people DON'T do that I find rather...annoying, for lack of a better word.  It takes a lot of tongue biting and closed-eye-rolling for me to work past my issues.  Without further ado, I present to you my list of annoying terms/phrases in no particular order:

• When people say, "What's that?" (A LOT!)  - now, I believe it's common knowledge for those of you who know me that I tend to mumble - I am aware.  As a result, when people can't hear me or need me to repeat what I had just mumbled, I noticed many people on many occasions saying, "What's that?" I guess if it bugs me that much, I should either make a conscious effort to change my 24yr old habit (or however long I've been able to talk) and speak more clearly and perhaps a little bit louder, OR maybe people should just...drop the "'s that?" and just say "What?"
• When people say, "You know what I mean?" (After every sentence) - I guess I'm just being a bitch and should just not care but it's not that simple.  You see, I'm ok with that term being used at the end of a long drawn out story.  I'm even ok with it being used after every 6th sentence.  What I'm not ok with is the fact that "You know what I mean?"  has seemingly taken the place of "like" (which I think I, like, say sometimes.)  and therefore is used after every single sentence and in many cases, MID-sentence.  When it's being used 100 times in one conversation, I just find myself becoming increasingly annoyed and thinking, "if I didn't know what you meant, I would say so..." but by me thinking that, I'm clearly not listening to the conversation at hand and find myself not knowing what you mean... 
• "It's whatever" - oh good god, I think this may be one of the most annoying phrases ever invented.  Can I just ask you something?  WHAT is whatever?  I certainly am not whatever, the situation doesn't seem to be whatever, is she whatever?  I just don't get why you're saying that or how that phrase has come to be.  I'd like to find the tree from which this phrase has fallen and RIP that tree out by the roots...can you just say, "it is what it is" ?  Because that makes sense...if that's what you're trying to say, then just...say it.  IT is not whatever...it is not...
•  "Swagger" - I believe Randy Jackson, of American Idol, can be held responsible for wearing the hell out of this word - oh yeah, and EVERY single hip-hop song released last year.
  
• "Drawling, Samwich, & SupposaBly" - Why people put letters where they don't belong is beyond me. That's right folks, I know of people who still think these are actually words; GROWN adults, no less.
• "Aks" (or Ax - as in "Aks him if he wants to go") - Do people think it's cool to purposely mispronounce a word?  that's crazy...
• "ROFL & FML" -I'm not sure why these bug me but they do.  Maybe because I had to google them to figure out what they meant and then when I found out, it made me that much more annoyed.

I'm sure there are PLENTY more that I could come up with but I'll spare you - we've just touched the tip of the iceberg my friends.

New Segment

Boomerang Bandits introduce a new segment

Pessimistic Patty

Wonderful, wonderful Winter...

The Boomerang Bandits would like to Welcome another Guest Bandit; The K Bandit.  She's cool, she's hip, she's "with it."  She's formal, but she likes to party.  She's a buckeye fan but don't hold that against her. She's SUPER wisdomous - obviously our identities are kept under wraps but I wouldn't be surprised if she ended up being the next President of the United States.  She's not a Maverick so you can rule out Sarah Palin.

Why Winter is the Crappiest Season Of the Year

1. You get fat - No matter what you do winter is cold. What does that mean… Well a few things. First, we sit inside on our couches in sweats and hoodies cuddled up in our favorite blanket trying to stay warm. Not to mention all of the great TV that is available in the winter. No movement needed or wanted for those activities. All of this means 10 lbs instantly because COLD=NO Exercise.
2. Snow – Yeah Yeah you might say it is pretty but beneath that pretty white exterior there is white death. Case in Point. Snow hates my jeans. No matter what you do, the bottom of your jeans will be wet for the first hour of work. I hate that. Also everyone during the winter months knows that you don’t wash your jeans regularly because of the stupid salt line that sits on the bottom of your jeans. Finally, the white death means road rage. People go nuts. You know its coming when the weather men/women predict snow …slow traffic. That twenty minute commute is now 3 hours. Ugghhh 
3. Hats – Don’t get me wrong I LOVE HATS. But they are not conducive for work hair. So everyday of winter there is always that inner struggle. Do I keep my head warm on my walk from the car to work and have messy/frizzy hair all day long or Freeze my ears off and still have messy hair all day long. No one looks good with hat hair.

Thanks winter for nothing...

Sincerely,
Cold Ohio Resident

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

C Bandit here - If I may, I would like to add to this post because, like K Bandit, I too want Old Man Winter committed - padded walls, straight-jacket, the whole shabang.  I've accumulated my own list of Winter Unpleasantries: 

1. Freezing Temps - I tend to find a way to stay inside when I know the weather is going to take a turn for the worst.  Unfortunately, some people don't have that luxury, and moreover, some CARS don't have that luxury.  So in my brief and unwelcoming stay in the mean streets of Chicago, I was too busy with school to look after my Cobalt and I had to leave her to fend for herself.  During one of the many bone-chilling cold spells in the windy city, I let Cobalt sit to collect ice and snow - a decision I would later regret.  Like a leech, the ice and snow had permanently attached itself to my car.  BRIGHT IDEA?  Turn on the defroster - it'll DEFROST that shit right off.  Minutes later, it had loosened the ice but it also took it's toll and CRACKED my windshield beyond repair...thank you OMW...I owe you one. 
   
   
   
   ***SIDE NOTE***
   extreme cold + extreme defroster + tiny crack in glass = cracky cracky
   
   
   
   
2. Ice - I don't mind the ice on the street as much as I mind the ice on my car.  The ice on the street, for the most part, is taken care of.  As for the ice on the car, it brings me back to my first point but for this bullet point, let's say the ice that doesn't crack the windshield.  Not only do you have to find appropriate hand protection, but you have to have the right weapon for destroying the cold sheet or you're going to find yourself outside prepping your car for departure for a good 15-20 minutes. As a result, you'll either be that much later for work or you're going to have to plan and wake up early which NOBODY in their right minds would enjoy.  
   
3. Dry Skin - our poor poor skin...like the dried crackled ground of Death Valley, our skin is gritty enough to sand that bench you've been meaning to refinish.  Not even cocoa butter can save it.  You're just going to have to deal with the rough carpenter hands for the winter season.
4. Gloom & Doom - A day without the sun is a day without the fun.  There's something about gray and dreary days that unmotivates even the most motivated people.  Only the strong persevere.  I've got a mean case of the S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder) - it's real and it's taken another victim.  How anyone can think that a sea of white, disgusting, cold, wet blanket of despair can be pretty is beyond me.  
   

Lookin' like a fool with your pants on the ground

No Bail Policy

One of my pet peeves has to be bailing. Last minute cancelling on plans, especially plans with friends...not cool. This is why I am now implementing a strict no bail policy. My current rantings come from a long bail themed month.

FYI: I will no longer accept rain checks as payment for bailings.

Exhibit A: Just moved to a condo, need help painting and decorating. Who do I call on? Cookie of course, she's great at shopping for home decor and making light of any serious situations such as getting paint on newly purchased furniture. Issue: Cookie can't make it b/c instead she decided to paint some rooms in her house the same exact day/weekend. End Result: So, I say whatev. and am happy that she is making progress in her own place.

Exhibit B: Ex bf/friend we shall call Playboy asks to get together for dinner and to come over to hang out at my new place, mainly to prove we can be just friends and no funny stuff will happen. Issue: Too bad we didn't get to prove ourselves strictly platonic, b/c he cancels a half hour before he is supposed to show because he isn't feeling well (sore throat or something). End Result: I am pissed because it is so last minute and I already showered and did my makeup but say whatever and go shopping for new movies at Blockbuster.

Exhibit C: Cookie was invited a second time to my new place, she has yet to see it. I am stoked that we can have some girl time and I still need decorating advice. Issue: Someone's birthday is happening this weekend and Cookie needs to attend, so this weekend will not work for her.
End Result: I tell her okay and in the future the plan making responsibility is up to her b/c her schedule is not as open as mine.

Exhibit D: Ex bf/friend Playboy rescheduled dinner for a weeknight, offered to pay because he felt bad about bailing last time. Issue: I get a call at my desk from him early afternoon cancelling because, surprise surprise, he doesn't feel well again. P.S. This guy needs some major fruits and veggies because he's a mess. End Result: He aplogizes and swears he will make it up to me. Bullshit, but whatever, I say okay and make a mental note never to accept his loaded dinner invites again.

Exhibit E: Many other weekday invites to friends that are unable to attend only after they accept.

That concludes my ranting.


Thank you but my schedule is booked solid,
E Bandit.

Mawwiage is what brings us togevaa...

Before you jump to conclusions and assume that this is an upbeat story about an engagement, I can assure you, it is not.  Lately I've noticed my increasing interest in the marital status of celebrities and pretty much any and everyone I encounter.  Are they married? Who are they dating?  Are they engaged? etc. etc.  I'm not sure what initiated this interest - perhaps it due to the fact that everyone around me is either in a serious and committed relationship, already married &/or they're pretty far up the path of adulthood and I feel like I'm stuck at the gate because I'm not tall enough to pass.  Whatever it is, this borderline obsession has pretty much soaked up a good chunk of time that I could've otherwise spent on more productive things.  Nevermind the fact that I have to get my car fixed and file for Financial Aid, I've GOT to find out who Rihanna is dating now (Matt Kemp).  [P.S.  Thank you Whosdatedwho.com and Wikipedia for helping me find the answers.]

Matt Kemp's Match.com Commercial - watch more funny videos

I could sit here and analyze the meaning of my so called, "obsession."  I could point out the obvious and tell you that I've got marriage on the brain and the realization that maybe the reality of it is that I've never really cared or thought about it as much as I have recently and maybe I should start thinking about it more seriously because I'm not getting any younger.  But, I'm a firm believer in fate and believe that everything happens for a reason and the fact that I am in the position that I am in is solely due to the Gods of Fate and their game of chess that is my life - I'm merely the Bishop in the corner waiting for my turn.  Or maybe I'm not even kind of close - whatever.

So, I was watching, or rather listening to the Music Channels on TV about a week ago and while you would think that this has nothing to do with the topic at hand, it does.  The channel I was listening to has a segment called "Music Choice Showoff" in which you, the listener and viewer, can send in a message via text or instant message.  Cool idea right?  I mean who wouldn't want to send a random text message to a music show and have random people reading it?!? You'd be crazy NOT to send one right?  Well, the channel clearly stated

Evidently, I was bored on this particular day and sat (with camera in hand) reading these messages.  They were what you'd expect to read:

• Messages that require decoding (don't even get me started on abbreviating and substituting whilst texting)

• Cheesy messages
  

•  Hilarious messages that, if you think about, how could you even be sure that the person in which you are intending to speak to, is even going to read it?   And on top of that, why not send the text DIRECTLY to the person?  Crazy thought, but it just might work.
  

• And then, after less than an hour listening and reading, I was astonished and generally amused to find the following messages
  

 

I'm not really sure where to start on this one...  you can't really make this stuff up.  I'm not one for knocking technology - I mean, without technology, this blog wouldn't exist.  Texting is amazing if you don't have much to say and you don't want to talk to someone in person or on the phone.  Instant messaging is also good for that.  Hell, even an occasional Facebook message beats a phone call.  But technology has made us all incredibly impersonal.  However, I, personally, do not think that texting an acceptable media by which to propose marriage.  That's kind of where I would draw the line.

#1)  I can only hope that the proposer is above the age of 18 yrs old in which case would also think that the thought of sending in a message to this show, or any show for that matter, is rather juvenile.

c.)  How can one believe in their heart of hearts that a texted proposal is romantic?  If this is as creative as our generation can be, we're in trouble.

viii.)  Imagine all the other Jake's and Marlayna's out there reading said proposal and are completely ecstatic because their significant other has just proposed to them, only, it wasn't their significant other who just proposed, it was you.  You may have single-handedly ruined multiple relationships by presenting false hopes.

Anyways, I guess there's really no point to this post...so I'm going to end this like a bad paper and say, "IN closing, if ever you're interested in finding out the marital status of celebrities, refer to the aforementioned websites.  Also, if ever you find yourself saying to yourself, "hey, I think it's time to propose," I recommend NOT proposing via text on Music Choice Showoff...  

QOD 2

Jersey Love

So...I'm dating a new guy and he's a sweetheart. He seems too good to be true. He's very emotional (I'm a magnet for those guys I swear) he tells me sweet things all the time, granted some of those highly emotional statements scare me a bit but I can deal and see where the relationship goes.

I just had to blog about this one thing that threw me for a loop. He asked me over to his place after a night out on the town with him and I reluctantly agreed--I am not that kind of girl I assure you so I don't need that kind of pressure in the beginning of a relationship. We get in the door and I assume he's just going to pounce on me, when in fact he tells me to close my eyes as he gets the surprise. One part of my brain thinks "Ooh maybe it's jewelry, roses, etc." and the other part says, "You don't know him that well, prepare to be on an episode of Nancy Grace." I clasp my hands nervously in front of me and do as instructed, closing my eyes tightly and praying to whatever god is up there for protection. He tells me to open them and I see a orange football/sports jersey presented in front of my with his name embroidered on the back. I say thank you and do the typical "Awwww" thing we girls do and try to figure out why he would assume I'd be so lonely that I would need a piece of sporting equiptment to keep me company when he is not with me.

After the surprise portion is over on this date, he walks me to my car and says goodnight. As I drive home I realize that the jersey is doused in his cologne. Ewww, I don't do the Pepe Le Peu cologne thing with men, it does not impress me. I manage to throw it in the back seat and kick on the air full blast. The next day it smelled my car up so badly I had to air it out and remove the poisonous sporting good from my car. I let the jersey get soaked in the rain for a while and then placed it on the back porch to air dry in the breeze.

Pepe Le Peu gained one strike against him that day, my car took days plural to recover. I will keep the boomerang followers posted on the next attack from the cologne bandit.

Peace and Fresh Air,
E Bandit

New Segment

The Boomerang Bandits would like to welcome a Guest Bandit who will be referred to as the M Bandit. She is also known as, "The Unicorn Slayer."  She's got a pocket full of pennies and always willing to throw her 2 cents at those in need.  Others describe her as a misanthropic philanthropist.  When she's not too busy slaying the one-horned beast, she makes time for her other hobbies such as Extreme Walking, Whale Watching, Mountain Drawing, Underwater Basket Weaving, Bull Riding, Wii Skiing & iTetris.  Without further ado, we present to you, a new segment we like to call,
"M Bandit's Question of the Day"

Meet the Little Black Raincloud

Ladies and gents, we'd like to introduce you to the Little Black Raincloud. Both E & I worked with her at the G Development Company & she is exactly as you would imagine a person to be when you associate someone with a gloomy black raincloud of depression. Now, I will admit, I (C Bandit) am pretty pessimistic, so I never thought I would meet someone who takes the cake for gloom and doom. It seems I've met my match.  Game, set, match.  She doesn't play devil's advocate, she IS the devil's advocate. Tell her you've just purchased a house and she will tell you that you not only got ripped off, but also that it will be IMPOSSIBLE to resell in this economy - buying is financial suicide. Tell her you're going to grad school to further your education and she'll tell you you're wasting your money and time. A Master's Degree is as good as a GED these days.  She was the "Debbie Downer" of the G Development Company.

It's a Dance off!

No way

Segal Energy Drink

Lookout Criminals!

He says it himself, "this is not a joke"

Forgive me Father for I have sinned...

It's been 11 days since my last post...

I'll blame Thanksgiving, Black Friday & Cyber Monday for this. I'm working on a few stories but I just thought of one that I must post before 11pm tonight. Reason? I bought a Mega Million ticket y'all! This is sort of a written notification for you readers before I hit it big and since I have but a few eggs left, I've chosen to put most of my eggs in this basket. I know it's a little unorthodox for a person like me to win the lottery. And by me, I mean not a deadbeat. Just kidding. I don't want to upset the Lottery Gods or offend previous winners. To any naysayers out there who think I'm wasting my time, I've got nothing to lose but the $5 I paid to buy a chance at winning millions.  I'll take my chances and pray for luck.  I have a better chance at marrying Justin Timberlake than I do winning the lottery but people DO win.  You can't win if you don't try.  I've been buying tickets fairly consistently these days and I've noticed that I am no longer asked for an ID. The day has come, I have graduated to No Longer Looking Like a Teenager!! Now, if I can just graduate to No Longer Looking Like I'm under 21, I'll be set! FYI - I'm 24, but if you count the years I used a fake ID, I've been of drinking age for over 5 yrs.

***Back to the Lottery Ticket***
I normally don't like to get my hopes up but a girl can dream...I often daydream/contemplate/plan what I would do should I win the big bucks. It's a dangerous game because 99 times out of 99, you'll lose and if you don't take too well to let downs...my suggestion is to not play the lottery. So here's my plan in the event of a win (hopefully tonight!)

First order of business, pay off my massive, overwhelming, colossal, gargantuan student loan debt. Okay, okay, so it's not as large as that of a future doctor or lawyer but for the profession and the future compensation of said profession, it's ginormous. [Side note - Ginormous is actually a word, I just looked it up on Dictionary.com. You learn something everyday.]

Second order of business, pay off my immediate family's debts and mortgages. Key emphasis on IMMEDIATE should this post be legally binding in the court of law. I don't want any hoodlums contacting me and claiming they're my long lost brotha from another motha - that aint gonna fly.

Third, and most importantly, in my opinion, I will fly my immediate family to somewhere tropical and incredibly warm. As we enjoy this vacation, we will also discuss the percentage divisions of the remaining winnings. I will expect that most of the monies will be invested into college funds and retirement plans but I should also expect that it will also be used on luxuries. I believe that if you have money, you should be able to enjoy it. Maserati for every day of the week? Don't mind if I do! Vacation homes around the world? Sure, why not! Pay off some bills? If I must. Give some to friends? If they're lucky.

Ok so, this is as far as I have planned. If I plan any longer or more extensively, my efforts will likely have been wasted.

In the immediate future, if the Gods of Lottery would be so kind, I could use a little help with my Christmas budget!

I'm off to chant a few chants, light a few candles and dance the chicken dance - anything that will increase my odds of winning! Wish me luck!

Facehook, we have to talk...

***CLICK LETTER TO READ***

Thanks Tyra, for Scaring Me.

Tyra Banks, not the world's foremost expert on, well...anything, scared me today. Not directly you understand, this is all through my very logical friend. We'll call her Cookie.

Cookie had me convinced after a short conversation that according to Tyra Banks, there are as many hermaphrodites as there are red heads in this world. Which is not such a big deal if she didn't proceed to attempt to convince me that because an ex-boyfriend of mine has a questionable scar on his unmentionables that he too is a hermaphrodite.

She made a compelling case...he was weird, he has a weird scar, and Tyra said so. Cookie then stated, "That's it, well you knew he was a bit weird, he was a hermaphrodite-it explains so much." (Which it doesn't...because he's not.) But that is okay because what Cookie states is fact, everyone who knows Cookie is aware of this.

After a minute of my own googling, I read aloud to her my findings, that the scar is quite normal and is not from surgical removal or addition of any body part. To this Cookie replied "Oh, well he was still weird." (Which is very true.)

Thanks Tyra, for making me worry that I may or may not have dated an altered man.

Peace and chicken grease,
E Bandit

Self Discovery at the Nail Salon

There's something about getting your nails done that gives this extreme sense of confidence. As you stand in front of the acrylic shelf fastened to the wall of the nail salon, your gaze meanders across the endless hues. These hues of nail polish neatly lined up represent more than a fashion statement. They represent a state of mind and for some strange reason you begin to have more confidence in trying weird colors. You think, "Hey, if I'm paying for this I might as well go with an off the wall color".

Sure you start with a pinkish-beige color entitled "Barely Pink", because obviously it won't show when it begins to chip. Then, you get a rush of braveness and put down the dull beige color and pick up a red sparkly color called "Santa's Sleigh"...getting warmer and sexier. You peruse the shelves and pick of an average of fifteen different colors and with each one you analyze it as if it were a greeting card that you are giving to a loved one. You burn through an entire row of red family hues, that turns into burgundies, then to dark purples, and finally you get so gutsy that you end your debate with a black mulberry color that Vogue, Cosmo, and Harper's assured you is all the rage.

As you walk away from the clear shelf of options you feel so confident with your selection. As if you just made a life changing decision. The single color choice has shaped your next week's wardrobe choices and your makeup colors. The harsh truth being that it will begin to chip off in three days...and you will wish you picked "Barely Pink".

(Mental note: Must remember to always pick neutral tones, especially on toes.)

Miss Suzy went to heaven & the steamboat went to... Hello, operator...

I am a Catholic born and raised. My family went to church religiously. We went to church every single Sunday (sometimes Saturday). Missing mass was a confession worthy offense. Holy Day of Obligation? Gotta go early to get a good seat. Random Tuesday? Let's go to church!

I vaguely remember being a young innocent little girl about age 5-ish, sitting in the back of the church with my parents and wondering why my siblings got to sit up front with other kids in uniforms. And then, I remember asking if I could also sit up front...a request I would soon regret. For to sit up front would mean I would have to begin attending Sunday School. My Sunday Schooling experience was not a typical experience. It was neither fun nor educational. Before you jump the gun and call me a heathen, let me explain myself. This, so called, Sunday School was every single Sunday for 3 hours directly following a 1 hour mass. I know what you're thinking; 3 hours isn't that long. You're right, it's not, what's 3 hours out of my week? But that's not what I'm complaining about. The kicker is, it was in another language; a language of which I could neither understand, speak, nor write. Problem, you say? Indeed it was. Bigger kicker, you ask? We were graded and failing was a definite possibility. I remember being in mass and singing the prayers but I never knew what I was really singing. I remember our year-end Recite-a-Prayer final exam, if you will. I cringed at the thought of them as I did any other exam. Now, because of my self-diagnosed Early-onset Alzheimer's disease, I cannot recall every detail of my life, this experience included. Everything in my life is a bit fuzzy. I can, however, recall a few key moments. With this said, I will say, without shame (because shit happens) that I failed at least once but I'm not sure when which meant I had to tack on another year of schooling. For 10 years I was stuck on the wrong side of the Great Wall of Language Barrier. And then, I can only assume, the church got smart and realized that not everyone understands and maybe that's why people are failing...So, before the start of my last year - The year I am due to receive the Sacrament of Confirmation - The English class makes its first appearance. *cue the sound of the heavens* Clearly a gift from god. Better late then never right? I was one of the lucky ones who "made the cut" and thus, I was placed into the class. Sadly, it was the only year that I had learned anything. I aced all of the tests AND was named valedictorian of the class. That's right, I'm going to brag about it. I ACED my confirmation class. And this would end my Sunday School experience.

Since then, I have moved (COUNTLESS times) and I am out of arms-reach of my father, who, in every sense of the word, is a religious man. I remember 2 years ago on Christmas eve when I became violently ill and was CLEARLY unable to go to mass on account of the vomit and what not.  Instead of saying, "I hope you feel better.  God will understand."  My dad shakes his head in disapproval and says, "you better go to Church tomorrow!"  "I love you too dad."  Nonetheless, I have become what some might call, a Cheaster (second definition). I can't help but wonder if God looks down upon those who only go "because they have to." Seeing as how I was brought up to be a religious church-goer and I went to church more than 52 times a year for over 15 years of my life, I should technically feel guilty for not going...right? So how's come I don't? I mean, I do a little but just because I don't go to church every week and I rarely pray doesn't mean I don't believe in god. It doesn't mean I go to Satanic Worship rituals and I have denounced my faith. It just means I have made the conscious decision to not attend mass every Sunday. I look at it this way - when I DO actually go, I rarely listen, I'm antsy, and I just want to leave. What is the point of going if you're not going to listen? If, in fact, god is everywhere, then I must be in church right now. "Our father, who art in heaven..." Ok, my dad would not be happy if he heard me say that...

To sum up a long story going nowhere, I leave god with the following questions:
Have I been wait-listed to Hell State University?
Should I expect to see my acceptance letter in the mail any day now?
Is it too late for me?

Moving On

In an effort to move on with my life and resume occasionally working out, I had no choice but to purchase a new Zune recently. I don’t feel like I’m cheating because I know that she would’ve wanted this for me…I can’t dwell on the past.

I took this opportunity to clean out the storage; organize, label and delete the duplicates of my ever-growing music collection. Sounds like a good idea until you realize I was swimming through nearly 7000 songs trying to find an escape ladder. But I have only myself to blame for accepting the challenge and I must finish so as not to be viewed as a failure. I guess as an outsider, it doesn’t seem like such a daunting task. I know you Ipodians are thinking, “Itunes would totally do that for you. What a stupid girl with a stupid Zune.” To this, I respond, “Hey! I am NOT stupid and neither is my Zune! Back off!” I’ve used Itunes on many occasions, or rather, attempted to use it and have found it to be rather counterintuitive and NON-user-friendly. You might now be thinking, “she’s totally stupid if she can’t use Itunes.” Well, I consider myself to be a rather tech-savvy person. I can usually figure out how to use a program if I fiddle with it enough but Itunes is not one of those programs. It’s ridiculously retarded and everything you click forces a prompt to ask you to either sign-in or purchase something, but I digress. 
 

If it didn’t take so damn long, I would’ve taken care of this whole music organization thing a long time ago but let me be reminded of the time when I decided to organize the collection when it was about 1500 songs lighter. I spent hours and hours but I didn’t seem to even make a dent. I think I made it to the “L”s before I gave up on account of my eyes burning and possibly bleeding and the fact that I no longer had the desire to listen to music for at least a week. This time was going to be different, I told myself I would finish if it killed me.

After hours of “The Office” and the determination to complete the task by nights end, I had SUCCESSFULLY renamed over approximately 2000 songs and whittled my collection down to 6000 songs. I feel accomplished. I not only completed what seemed like an impossible mission, but I stumbled upon countless oldies (but goodies) hidden in a collection containing songs that I have never and probably will never listen to but yet, I will probably never delete them because I might one day want to discover a new old song. I also learned that I must’ve been both a country enthusiast & a hip-hop devotee at one point in my life. If I deleted all of the Rascal Flatts, Garth Brooks, Tim McGraw, Dierks Bentley, Brad Paisley, & on the flip-side, Notorious, Bone Thugs, ODB, Dr. Dre, & Jay Z, I will have successfully deleted a good 35% of my collection. Something I’ve also learned about myself during this process is that I have an, and I’m trying to be as humble as I can about it, ASTONISHING ability to recall song artists when I hear a song. I mean it, I'm amazing. As for the song titles, I have Google, NAY, the good people of America who have chosen to take time out of their busy schedules and devote it to typing entire lyrics and posting them on the internet. Thank you America.

Here are five songs that will have you saying, “I totally remember that song & I loved it!”

I Saw The Sign - Ace Of Base

One More Try - Timmy T

(I Cant Help) Falling In Love With You - UB40

Here Comes The Hotstepper - Ini Kamoze

It Must Have Been Love - Roxette

On the flip side, my personal list of, “How did this get on here, I hate this song.”

• Johnny Cash – Burning Ring of Fire
• I’m not going to buy into his sudden popularity among the “younger folk.” I don’t like him. Shut it off.
• Hinder – Lips of an Angel
• Ahhhh! YACK! I will and have walked out of a bar because of this song.
• Beyonce – Crazy in Love
• No thanks, I’ll pass.
• Green Day – Boulevard of Broken Dreams
• Takes me back to a less happier time. DELETE!
• Uncle Kracker - Smile
  
• The newest addition; wasn't in my collection but bad enough to make the list. The person that “discovered” he had a singing voice should be shot.

I could probably go on and list many many more songs but I will save the other lists for another day.

Checking In With Exes and Oh's

Ebandit: Hey, so how's everything? Heard you moved out of state...any reason?

Drummer Man Ex: Yeah, moved down for this girl I was dating, but it didn't work out.

Ebandit: Oh, sorry to hear. How long did you date before you moved?

Drummer: Haha, about a month.

Ebandit: Wow, slow down there. How did you meet her? I hope you didn't go on that website you were on before we met, called Veggie Date.

Drummer: Uhhh, no. Not Veggie Date. It was actually...

Ebandit: Uh oh...let's hear it.

Drummer: Spiritual Singles.com. I didn't learn my lesson I guess.

Ebandit: Amazing.


The Moral of The Story Folks: Breakups happen for a reason...survival of the fittest if you will.

Security Checkpoint Closed, Come Back L8TR

Eye opening facts that I learned from my fall vacation.
1.) Security checkpoints in small-town airports open at 9 a.m., not one minute before. "Checkpoint opens at 9 a.m. - Come Back L8TR"

2.) The airplane seat in front of you can also be used as a napkin. Yes, this was proven to me by the lovely 55 year old woman sitting next to me who used the seatback in front of her as a peanut crumb/salt napkin. She would reach her hand into her ziploc bag of peanuts, throw the fistful of snacks into her mouth then proceed to wipe the palms of her hands and finger tips, from the top down, on the seat in front of her. The very gross part...she kept returning her airplane seat smudged hand back into her bag of peanuts for more salty goodness...and the cycle continued.
3.) Do not take refuge at TGI Fridays in Dallas airport if you want some quiet time to read your new Jen Lancaster book in between flights. The fraternity boys who are on a boys trip to see sporting events (woo hoo, go team!) will definitely interrupt your reading by screaming at one of the nineteen tv's showing sports.
4.) Wealthy WASPS love tall, thin, blondes. And will tell you openly and honestly how nice it is to see a thin person in the sea of obese Americans traveling.
5.) Married couples with children never seem to have the foresight to book two seats TOGETHER on any given flight and will ask you to move from the comfy aisle seat to a cramped window seat. You will feel guilty, and you will give up your coveted seat.

Obesity in America

Ok so, I wanted to write this entry to point out the rising obesity epidemic in America…among purses. Everywhere I look, the purses are getting larger and larger. I’m afraid to see how obese purses will be when our children and our children’s children grow up. I have managed to categorize purse sizes into five groups; perhaps this research will help someone, somewhere, find a cure for this overlooked issue. And the five groups are as follows:

The Clutch – The Anorexic one of the group.
So small, you almost forget you’re carrying it. Just carries the essentials.• Cash Money
• Credit cards
• ID
• Chapstick
• A few sticks of gum
• House & car keys

The Mini – The one who can eat everything but never gains a pound.
Also carries the essentials along with some extras, but it also hangs on your shoulder.

• Wallet
• Lip gloss
• Perfume
• Tic-tacs
• Keys
• Modest-sized cell phone

The Average – Not too thin, Not too fat.
Carries things you need and things you could do without.

• Full wallet with checkbook insert
• A pen
• Crackberry phone
• Compact, lipstick, eyeliner
• Tampons
• Pack of gum
• Several pieces of candy
• Band-aids
• Keys

The Pear – Hip measurement is greater than the bust. (Also, she eats a little more than she should).
You don’t know how to tell her that she’s gained a little weight. You have to switch arms because she forms a dent in your shoulder. You’ve clearly lost track of the contents. You often find yourself saying, “I think I have that.”

• A clutch purse doubling as a wallet
• Checkbook
• Tampons
• Make-up
• Portable Tissues
• Tape measure
• Safety pins
• An umbrella
• Crayons
• Nail clippers & file
• More keys than necessary
• Granola bar
• A Notebook
• The novel, “The Notebook”
• Ipod Nano
• Sunglasses
• Iphone
• Pocket knife


The Chub – Complains about her weight but still super-sizes.
The Mary Poppins of bags. Could possibly fit a kitchen sink if a situation deemed necessary. Larger than a carry-on bag. More pockets than a pair of cargo pants. On the plus side, you could probably survive on the contents of the bag in the event that you’re stuck in your car for 3-5 days.

• Iphone
• Keys (including your spares & your neighbors spares)
• Wallet
• Checkbook
• Coin purse
• Photographs
• Digital Camera
• Ipod Video
• A Planner
• Pretzels, granola bar, bottle of water, packs of gum, bag of chips
• Pens, pencils, crayons
• A Novel or two with a booklight
• Toothbrush, toothpaste, floss
• Makeup bag
• Sunglasses & reading glasses
• TomTom
• Lotion & Hand sanitizer
• Calculator
• Umbrella
• Brush, comb & hairspray
• A cocktail of pills
• Emergency sew kit
• First Aid kit
• Deck of cards
• Packets of Equal
• A couple of magazines
• Pair of socks, gloves & hat
• Extra Cardigan
• A Mini purse
• And, last but not least, your dog

So tell us, what kind of purse do you have? Do you think your purse needs to go on a diet? Do you really think you need to carry around that package of Mac n’ Cheese? Or the empty flask from god knows when? Do you think you should carry a tire iron with you at all times? I know there’s a pocket equipped with safety buckles & baby Lily can fit in there but have you ever heard of a Baby Bjorn? 2 cans of baked beans. Really? If you have to walk through a door sideways because there aint no way you’re both going to fit through, you need two hands to carry it, and it takes you longer than 5 seconds to retrieve your wallet, chances are, your bag needs downsizing.

Rules of Halloween

Halloween is among us and our sugar levels are running a little higher than the doctor recommended. In the spirit of the holiday, we've decided to list some of the rules that we think should be implemented for the occasion.

For the Candy Givers:

• If anywhere on the packaging, it is marked, "healthy, fat free, or no sugar, " know that your, so called, "treat" WILL be traded for better candy (or best offer).
• If it's a coupon for a free cone at the DQ or a free hamburger at Mickey D's, the possibility of your house being egged &/or TP'd increases with every coupon given.
• Leaving a bowl on your porch with goodies is a great idea. Marking said bowl with a sign designating one piece of candy per child...that aint gonna happen.
• Box of raisins? Really??
• Candies/treats that make others aware that you purchased the candy less than an hour ago: smarties, good & plenty, jujubes, dots, candy corn, pennies, package of unpopped popcorn, apples & many more.
• It is an unwritten rule & common courtesy to shut off all signs of human life at your house if you do not intend on giving treats.
  
• After about the 5th house, the trick-or-treaters are sick of telling people who/what they are, hearing that they're cute &/or waiting for you to finish chit chatting with their parent. Just make a brief comment, drop the goods and they'll be on their way.

For the Trick-or-Treaters:

• No costume, no candy.
• Wearing normal attire with JUST an eye mask does not make it a costume.
• Say thank you or you will be viewed as an ungrateful little rugrat.
• When given the option to grab your own candy, rule-of-thumb, don't be the first. Let the others take first.
• Don't walk through the yards, that's what the inconveniently routed paths are for.
• The answer is 1. Age 1 is when you can claim that the candy is for your child and not for you. (keyword is CLAIM)
• If you had to hit more than 3 stores to complete your costume, you have put way too much thought into a 2hr outfit that you'll most likely never wear again. (This does not apply to parents. It's a competition to see which parent can create the most bitchin' costume for their kids.)
  

Dear Nanny Diary - Don’t Wear White

Ok, in less than 2 hours I have managed to get blue jello, cough syrup and sassy sauce on my white shirt…let me rephrase that, “THEY have managed”…this has led me to the conclusion that I can no longer wear white whilst watching kids which bites because I like wearing white.

Let me go ahead and tell you the events of the past ½ hour. Nay, FIASCO. Not only did my sister have to come out to separate the two boys because they weren’t getting along, but she also had to help me with a situation of which you’re about to find out. Ian, that little rascal, is sick with the cold so it’s time to take his medication. Ah yes, medication – ALL kids love thick cough syrup…as he is sitting on the couch watching Caillou, one of many annoying fricking cartoons that PBS produces, I get his syrup ready. But being the nice nanny that I am, I also come prepared with a cup of water to wash it down. So I hand him the cup as he is refusing to take it and I say, “it’s either this or sassy sauce, which one do you want?” to which he replies, not with a verbal reply, but a “what are you going to do?” glare AS he pours the red syrup onto the couch…my initial reaction was to yell, which I did as I carried him to the kitchen telling him he was going to get sassy sauce. Imagine the loudest, most high-pitched 13-yr old girl screaming at the top of her lungs at a Jonas Brothers concert, now, imagine tweeking that up a few octaves, turning up the volume to the max and putting that speaker right in your ear - strike that - imagine being INSIDE the subwoofer at a Bon Jovi Concert. Yes yes, and you will only grasp the edge of the pain that I endured as he was screaming bloody murder directly into my Cochlea and down into my Eustachian tube…I wouldn’t be surprised if I am bleeding about the ears as we speak. But that’s not all, as I put him in the high chair to grab said sassy sauce, he jumps out in a hurry which leaves me no choice, I must take him with me to acquire the sauce. Still screaming as I’m filling the dispenser, and ready to dispense, he screams even louder and proceeds to knock the 40 oz. bottle of Sassy sauce onto the counter. I was NOT happy. I yelled at the top of my lungs, “Ian!!! AGHHHH!!!!!” he struggles to get off the counter and I am furious but I let him down and head to my sisters room. “um…we have a little situation out here…” no doubt she heard the screaming. She grabs him and makes him clean the couch, but he does it haphazardly if you ask me, I guess he is only 3... Then she makes him take his medicine which was only about ½ of what he should’ve taken but you know kids…and he spits some on himself so she tells him to take off his clothes to change. You guessed it, he wouldn’t do it. He screams YET again and tries to shimmy free. FINALLY he changes his clothes and now he’s watching Tom & Jerry as if nothing has happened. "can you turn it up? I can't hear it." Almost positive that kids are bipolar & the masters of overreacting...Never a dull moment...


End of Nanny Diary entry October 30, 2009.