Friends and Family

Ask, and you shall receive, Maria. 🙂

First, this choreography! I need to go back to the 70s where I could keep up with the dancing. Step, together, step, tap, baby. I got that all. Day. LONG! My CM choreographers know this.

Second, if you aren’t thinking of the Pirates from the 70s when you hear this, well, I guess you just aren’t a Pirates fan, now are you?

Now, on to the meat of things: family.

Some folks might only have, one definition of family, that being those who fall under the category of people related by blood. Nope, nope, nope, nope nope. If you’re a Facebook user, you might be familiar with friends lists. In my world, they’re more like family lists. Let’s take a look at that, shall we? Not literally because you don’t need screenshots of my Facebook. 😛

Alrighty then, let’s start at the beginning. Steph and Jess had the most pimped out wedding ceremony you have never seen back on 8.1.70. They are my everything. Taught me all the good stuff about respect and being a good person. All the sirs and ma’ams to be had. But also pinochle, barbeque sauce, and banana pudding. And food takes us down the yard to Gram and Pops. Man. Totally my second mom and dad but with cookies and ice cream. Gram made the good good. Peach junk and mac and cheese. I can kinda replicate them because I spent so much time watching her make them, but any time I asked for a recipe, it was “a little bit of this and a little bit of that”. Pops got me my car knowledge as he “worked” in a garage and so I learned to change oil and tires which leads me to the first family that wasn’t blood. Let us not forget the little brother whom I clobbered with the ketchup bottle and the daughter who came much later down the road.

The VMH crew. Van Meter Heights, a name we entirely made up in our backwoods, rural one mile stretch of road. It was the kind of area where everyone knew everyone’s business, so there was no sneaking of anything! At least not for me, lol. I had mom and dads and brothers and sisters all up and down the road. They taught me friendship and fights and how to make up from them. These people were more than likely the beginnings of the unemployed comedian I am today.

My next sets of families came from work. The Don Pablo’s family, the Kanagroo’s family, the Houlihan’s family, and the Club Med family. Working in hospitality changes you! Everyone should have to do it at least once. These folks taught me about relationships and what they were and what they weren’t. They taught me what it was to have someone’s back and to know when someone had mine. I learned fantasy football with them, nearly got kicked out of baseball stadiums with them, went to back-to-back-to-back movies with them, did parking lot donuts in the snow with them, checked out WWF (back when it was still WWF) Raw with them, and took over Carlos ‘n Charlies with them on a weekly basis. Of course there were not so great times, but we got through them together and we’re all stronger for it. This isn’t to say that I have no family from non-hospitality jobs because I do. I’m looking at you Rebecca, Pedro, Justin, Holly, and Chris. OMG don’t be mad if I didn’t mention you. I can’t list every single person, Pramod. And Shiva.

A quick shout out to my pole and circus family! Y’all taught me to be my damn self and go ahead and be that self on stage. A couple sentences isn’t really enough, but I can’t be here all night!

And now, now I am growing a real estate family. It’s been fun! I am constantly out shaking hands and kissing babies. Mayor McCheese-ing like there’s no tomorrow. People who are teaching me how to get this job done; taking me under their collective wing and providing me with guidance and encouragement. I can already almost build a castle with business cards! (I’m not, but I COULD.)

Of course, I couldn’t end this without speaking of my not blood but close as you can be family. The hubster and his (now my) family. They’ve never been anything less than spectacular to me. Hubby puts up with more of my crapola than anyone in the world probably could without kicking me out. He has taught me, with no offense to one or two other people, what true love is, in giving and receiving.

So there you have it. Sometimes hard to follow but sometimes stream of consciousness is how I write. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it as you get to know me. 😀 Come back tomorrow or the next day for some more confusion. It’ll be fun, I promise, fam!

It’s Been A While

Hold on, lemme clear these tumbleweeds off this desert that is my blog:

Image result for blowing off dust gif

So, hey! How ya been? Last time we chatted, I was still ten days out from quitting my job. All the stuff since then. Said my goodbyes to work and to Colorado, trekked across the country in a U-Haul. Saw some absosmurfly hilarious stuff along the way. (I’m looking at you pseudo-Ruff Ryders with no DMX, drinking chardonnay.) Tons of lightning bugs in Kansas. Crazy rainstorms. Billboards with zombie Jesus. More than a normal amount of dead armadillos. Unrecognizable road kill. And HUGE, like YUUUGE (and yes, I’m using that for a reason) confederate flags. (See what I did there?)

We’re all settled in now and have made our first trip to Busch Gardens, which, of course, was oh so important for me since I have an adrenaline problem. After packing up the whole house in Colorado, and having to switch the plan like three times, needless to say, exhaustion was present. We hired some guys to do the unpacking on this side. Or, at least to bring the stuff into the house and bring the heavy stuff upstairs. Yes, I was thrilled to not have to deal with that mess. With two U-Boxes, we had those suckers unpacked in less than a day. Our new neighbors were stunned that we had them out of the way so quickly, not that they were in anyone’s way. We’re still not quite in “season” yet, so half of our neighborhood isn’t here. That’s the Florida life. Six months of too many people and six months of no waiting in line for anything.

It hasn’t been all fun and games though. Along the way, I did some studying, got kinda nervous, nailed it anyway, aaaaaaaaannnnnndddd:

Yup, licensed Realtor down here in Florida. Of course, a nod to the Club Med days since so much of real estate is shaking hands and kissing babies for which no other job could have prepared me better. Now, let’s not get it twisted, there is SO MUCH knowledge to ingest. Like, my calendar is starting to look like I’m a college student. I have/have had ten classes to take that are mandatory. I’ve gotten two under my belt and the majority of the others scheduled. And pshhhh, let’s not even talk about the other training that I’m doing. Every day I’m learning something new. All the while, I’m turning into a networking machine. Hey, hi, how ya doin? What do you do? Oh great! That’s cool. Me? I’m a Realtor. Keep me in mind if you are gonna buy or sell and hey, tell a friend. I might already be able to build a castle with business cards. It’s madness and I love it! So, you know, hey, if you’re gonna buy or sell down here in Sarasota or Manatee counties, or have friends or family who are, see that pic above and share the love. 😉

Along with this new career path has come some crazy drive. And outta control dreams. For the last couple of weeks, my brain has just refused to turn off. I’ve been looking at my REM sleep on my Fitbit, and yeah, there’s a lot of it. Some dreams from when I was younger resurfaced. My dad has shown up twice. Old friends have made appearances. I think only one true nightmare, fortunately.

Sidebar on nightmares: By no means am I a strong swimmer. Like, I likely won’t drown if I get thrown in a pool (which has happened because, well, I’m a smartass), but I don’t swim for pleasure and doubt I would last long in open water. So, I have a healthy fear of water, except when I’m drinking which is the worst time to be comfortable, but that’s not what this sidebar is about. As a kid, I had a few fears. World War III was pretty high up there since I grew up under the watch of Reagan SMASH! Fire and our house burning down was another, possibly because an elder relative died in a house fire. Tornadoes because those shits are just scary! Flushing other people’s toilets, simply because I was an odd child. And drowning. Of course, the recurring nightmare was about drowning in an overflowing toilet. And always in the private school I went to through fourth grade. Yes, it’s impossible as the bathroom was far from having any sort of seal that would allow that much water to accumulate, but as I said, I was an odd child.

Even with my brain refusing to rest, my body still is, thankfully. But I’m about to put it to the test. My morning schedule has been filled with ALL the things. Today it had ten. I think that next Monday I will get to all ten. Today I only made 80%. Considering I had one of those previously mentioned mandatory classes that lasted 3 hours plus a networking lunch for another hour and a half, plus it took me like 9 hours to make dinner (ok, not 9 hours, but I would never make it on any tv show that involved making a dish in 30 minutes), I’m happy to get 8 of 10 done.

One of the 10 for today was to write. This one is important. I used to contribute to this bloggy all the time and I’ve fallen off time and again. But perhaps if I put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard as the case may be, I’ll be able to empty out the brain a little bit and have some more chilled out sleep. Fingers crossed, y’all. Fingers crossed.

That’s all I’ve got for today. Check back tomorrow to see if I make it two in a row. I’m pulling for me, are you? Leave a comment. I like those. They’re encouraging. Even if you tell me I ramble, that’s cool cuz it’s true. Tell me something you wanna hear about. Give me a topic to write you a story. I’m down. Til then!

Ten. On Notice.

Or, if you don’t have the time for all of that, how about this:

Two weeks, but same sentiment. A weight has been lifted. I haven’t felt this free since, since, oh! Since I left LNR! Hahahahahaha. If you know me at all, if you’ve read this blog for years (which means no one, lol. No wait, sorry, Ro. You know.), you know how bad that was.

In what can only be described as standard fashion, my boss did not reply to my resignation email and has yet to say anything about it. She did, however, without hesitation, forward my email to my coworker before I even had an opportunity to tell her. I’m talking I pressed send at 8:06, was in a conversation with my coworker, and at 8:10 she was asking me about it. I’m not gonna say my soon-to-be former boss is excited about my departure, but I’d guess we might shit on each other’s desks if we could.

The tide is high, the relief level is high, plans are in place, the team is go.

Did I tell you I’ve started (making attempts at) jumping rope? I don’t think I did it much as a kid, although I do remember some fun sessions of Chinese jump rope (in it, out it, side by side it, on it, in it, out it). It’s easy if I’m just dicking around, but I’m trying to learn shit. Be all cool like a boxer. Currently, I’m doing good if I can jump 100 times in a row without whipping myself with the ropes. Baby steps.

Ok, I’m done. Have a rocking great Friday and let the congregation say ROCO!!

Twelve. Decisions. A Story.

Three different  topics in that title. First, of course, the obvious. That countdown keeps on ticking. Looking forward to Friday.

Next up, decisions. As in, the decision to not work immediately once we move. And hey, what a great coincidence that Busch Gardens has their pass on sale for $60 to go unlimited for the rest of the year. I told hubby that if he wants me to relax and not work for a little bit, then we have to go to BG at least once (but I meant like 3 times). We’ll see how that goes. With the trips, not the relaxing. That’s gonna happen. I’m already envisioning bike rides to the beach, yoga on the beach, parks, trails, and whatever else I figure out.

Story time!

Back in the day, I was a bartender. Not just at Club Med, but also at this little hole in the wall dive bar. This little hole in the wall dive bar in a tiny town with somewhat closed-minded people. You get where I’m going here yet? No? Ok, I’ll continue. I had designated shifts. Patrons knew who was working when. So I can only assume that there was either nowhere else to drink (nope) or they knew I was working and were passive-aggressive assholes (yep). The funniest part about all of this is that they were good tippers. Anywho, a couple of scraggly old dudes missing some teeth liked to come in during my shift. It was only a few of them and me. Remember how I lived in a pretty deep stronghold of, um, rednecks and racists? (Of course not everyone, but damn, a lot.)

I don’t recall the exact song that happened to reside on the jukebox, but it was certainly a gem that dropped nigger in the song. Obviously, I had never heard the song as it was pretty deep country shit. The first time they played it, I didn’t hear it. I just continued to ignore them and their drunk old man snickers. Pretty sure the second time they were in and played it, I didn’t catch it either. Their little inner joke continued. When I did finally catch it, I immediately went and dropped some quarters into the jukebox myself. That song up there. And when it came on, I sang along. And when it got to the best part, I simply looked at them and said, “Fuck you”. “Fuck you.” “FUCK YOU!” Guess what they didn’t play any more. Even as shitty as that particular situation was, I still miss bartending there. Oh, the stories. But those are for another day.

See you on another day.

18 and My WHOLE Life To Go


Even though it’s a different song, people are fucking strange.

On multiple occasions, it seems that the universe has been trying to tell me that everything that’s happening is for the good. Me not keeping this job, hubby not keeping his job, phone calls, interviews, etc.  Of course, I’m thick and I don’t always listen to (or even receive) subtle hints. Ok, I hear you loud and clear on this one, universe. I hear you.

See, last week I asked a coworker a very simple question as to whether or not she knew the date of an event to which she replied that she did not. My initial thought was that this person not knowing was a little odd, but whatever, I let it pass. I said nothing when she wanted to take some time off. I figured it was just to make the long weekend longer. Hey, go for it. I mean, pretty soon, you won’t have backup so take all the time off you can. The issue for me arises when I see someone else take off the same time that she did and that other person specified that she is attending the event I asked the first person about. Why lie about something so minor?!?! I don’t get it. Buuuuuuuuttttttt, *Scarface voice*  THAT’S OK!!!  Don’t even consider asking me for anything over the course of the next month. Bye, Felicia.

Now, I could be totally wrong about that last paragraph, but come one. There’s coincidences and there’s people thinking I can’t put two and two together to get four. Too funny that as I was writing this, she wanted to reach out to just chat. Naw, dawg. It’s a no from me. You get the same one word answers that others are getting these days.

I went back to check my packing schedule from when we moved from Florida out to Colorado. Seems like back then, I didn’t even start this crazy process until 12 days before we were set to leave. Looks like I’m ahead of schedule. Especially considering that this time there is so much less to pack. I feel like I could really get everything done in that last week, but at the same time, I can’t really see leaving it until then. I mean, what if there’s something awesome going on that week and I can’t go because I didn’t finish packing?!?! FOMO on whatever the last things I do here are. (Those things are NOT goodbye gatherings. I know I’ve said it before and folks who would try to make that happen likely aren’t reading this, but if you know them, tell them I said NO!) I guess the biggest decision is do we want to eat off of paper plates for a while, lol.

Sigh. Goals: 750 words. Not making it again. But let’s be real, another 250 words is just me rambling. Peace out.

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