Love Muffin

I can't believe it's been a whole year since I've last written a blog. How is that possible when I have so much to say? Today I would like to discuss everyone's favorite (or not) four letter word: love.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking. "Another blog about love, Gretchen?" Yes, my friends. I have learned a lot about this topic over the last few years, and I'd like to share this semi-new knowledge with you.

I want people to know that love doesn't show up on a white horse on Valentine's Day holding a bouquet of red roses. I mean, it CAN, but usually it doesn't. It shows up in smaller, less flashy ways. Sometimes it shows up in the form of a smile, or a slow dance, and sometimes it even takes the form of a delicious home-made breakfast muffin. There are many subtle ways that love can manifest itself in, and sometimes you just have to open your eyes to see it.

There are many different types of love. There is a kind of love that hits you automatically, like a freight train. There is best friend love, there is family love, there is snuggle-with-me-at-3 am love. There is unspoken love, and there is shout-it-from-the-rooftops love.

I love my family, not just because I'm stuck with them, but because they are awesome people. I love my friends because they are not only loads of fun, but they are also rocks to lean on when I need them most. I love people who are amazingly strong, like my high school sweetheart who is now dealing with cancer. Or like my cousin, who barely knows I exist, who just lost both parents AND her sister. Or people like my boyfriend, who works so hard to better himself every single day. And I love people who follow their dreams, no matter how crazy their dreams may seem to other people.

Be aware, however, that love doesn't always conquer all. Sometimes love itself isn't enough. Sometimes you have to kick love in the ass in order for it to see you.

Why do I feel a little less sunny now than when I started this blog? I guess love will sometimes do that to you.

I love you, my friends! Let's rock the shit out of 2010 together!

It's only my opinion

So today someone said something to me that really irked me, and it's been awhile since I've written a blog..... so basically, listen up, cause here goes.

I was telling someone about my day today, and the truth is, I didn't do very much that was productive or really worth talking about. But I said, "I went out to play in the snow today! I built a snowman!"

So I was talking about building the snowman, and I noticed the silence coming from the other side of the table at the restaurant. I said, "Why are you so quiet?" And the response was, and I quote, "Aren't you a little old to be playing in the snow?"

So here's what I'm asking you, my friends. I am 26 years old. This June will mark my 27th birthday. Am I too old to be playing in the snow? Am I too old to make a snowman, or a snow angel, or have a snowball fight? And if so, at what point did I become too old to enjoy the simple pleasures that I enjoyed as a child?

I'm not married, I have no children. I pay my bills on time like (most) adults do. My priorities are in order. I'm (normally) a hard working adult. I like to have fun in my spare time. If I'm too old to be playing in the snow, what should I be doing instead? Should I be bar hopping from 9pm until 2am like other people my age? Should I be getting picked up by the cops and brought home in the back of a cop car after partying all night like other 20somethings? Or should I be looking at the other side of the coin, and get married and have babies since that's what other people my age are doing?

I just don't think that someone can tell me that I'm too old to play in the snow. Maybe I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, but I see absolutely nothing wrong with my actions today. The question caught me so off guard at dinner, that I couldn't even come up with a response. When I finally was able to compose my thoughts, I said, "You're only as old as you feel". Am I right, or do you all think I'm crazy, too?

The truth is, if there had been some 5 year olds sledding down a hill at the house next door to me, I would have been over there racing them. I know a lot of times I'll say things in conversation like, "I feel so old!" or "That makes me feel old!" but the truth is, I feel just fine. I'll probably be the crazy 80 year old lady that's going sledding with the neighborhood kids after having both hips replaced following an ice skating injury. If I'm still having fun doing it, why should I stop?

Oh well. I guess I'll go pick out my headstone and write my own eulogy since I'm an old lady now. There's just no time for fun, childish activities when you get to be my age!

Why does this always happen to me?

So yesterday morning, I woke up bright and early to drive my mom to work since she doesn't have a vehicle right now. We hop in the car and I flip on my Sirius Satellite Radio so I can hear some jams to get me going and wake me up. I turn on my favorite station, The Beat, which features today's best dance/techno/breakbeat music. But instead of hearing one of my favorite songs, or one of my favorite DJ's announcing the latest news in electronic music, I hear a mediocre song that I don't recognize, followed by a DJ that I've never heard before. As it would turn out, Sirius and XM have finally merged, and they got rid of half of the channels from each company. So now, instead of my favorite Sirius channel, The Beat, I now get XM's similar electronic music station, BPM. They also did away with a few of my other favorite stations.

I know it shouldn't be that big of a deal, but I am upset by this. Why is it that all of my favorite things always get discontinued? This always happens to me! As soon as I find something that I thoroughly enjoy, be it a radio station, a drink, or a delicious breakfast sandwich, it always ends up being ripped away from my clutches.

Case in point: Back in the day, I used to dye my hair all different colors, but orange was always my favorite. I had this great color, called Agent Orange, and it was fantastic. It looked excellent on me. And then, one fateful day, it was no longer on the shelves. It had been discontinued. Sure, there were plenty of other colors to choose from, but none quite like that one. I am still mourning the loss of Agent Orange.

Another great example is my favorite unsweetened ice tea. It was the Giant brand, and it was, by far, the most delicious drink to ever hit my lips. Everytime I went to the store, I would buy every carton they had. The one day, I arrived at the store to find that there were no cartons on the shelf. I asked the stock boy when he expected to get some in, and that's when I got the horrible news: It had been discontinued. Sure, they had plenty of sweet tea, and green tea, and even raspberry flavored ice tea, but no unsweetened ice tea. It was a terrible day, and even thinking about it now is upsetting.

And how about the Nintendo Gamecube? I recently pulled my Gamecube out of it's box to hook it back up for some Mario-type entertainment. I thought maybe I'd stroll through Best Buy and pick a new game for it. So I get to Best Buy, walk through the entire video game section, only to find that there is not one Gamecube game to be had. Upon further investigation, I have learned that they no longer make games for the Gamecube, it's now been replaced by this Nintendo Wii thing. What about ME? What about my Gamecube? I don't care if it's an outdated system, it's still my system and I love it, and if I wanna play games on it then I should be able to do so! DAMNIT!

What will be next? I'm afraid to find out. If they ever discontinue Coca Cola, I might as well just dig and hole and crawl in it because that's a world that I do NOT want to live in.

That's my rant for the day.

Epiphany

I just wanted to say this.

Epiphany: noun. The sudden realization or comprehension of the essence or meaning of something.

Have you ever had an epiphany? The feeling is amazing. It's not something you schedule, it's not something you see coming. It just sort of happens. It's quite the experience, and coming to a realization can be life changing.

I'm a very happy camper today. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It's hard to describe.... but I am truly happy. The sunshine on my face is amazing, and I'm so glad to have it back.

Now if I could just get rid of this ridiculous cold....

The Pumpkin Patch Incident.

I haven't blogged in a while. I figured it was about time to get back on the horse.

I know I'm more than a little late with this, but I hope everyone had a great summer. Mine was pretty nifty. I took a few nice, relaxing, vacations, caught up with some old friends, made a few new ones. I didn't do a whole lot of working.... it's been really nice.

With that being said, I'm totally diggin' fall.... cooler weather, the holiday season coming up....something about fall just makes me all warm inside. And no, that's not the eggnog talking.

We recently put up some Halloween decorations here at the house, and while I was putting together my magnificent lite-up Wolfman that now sits on my front lawn, my mom and I were reminiscing about Halloweens past, and she told me a story about what she calls "The Pumpkin Patch Incident".

Apparantly I was pretty young, around 5 or 6, and my parents took me to Merrymead Farm to pick out my Halloween pumpkin. What they do there is take little kids on a hayride through the back of the farm, which ultimately ends in a pumpkin patch where kids can pick out their own pumpkin. The parents stay behind and hang out inside the gift shop and sip hot cider, or buy fresh milk, or pet cows, or whatever the hell they wanna do while their kid is gone for a few minutes. The hayride then brings the kids back to their parents, everybody is happy, and then we hold hands and skip all the way home. The only problem is, I didn't come back on my wagon. My mom figured, "Oh, I suppose she'll be in on the next one". Well the next one came and went, as did a third wagon, and still no little Gretchen. She started freaking out. "Where is my daughter?!?! She's lost in the pumpkin patch! Someone stole her!!! She's probably dead!!" My mom is awesome at making a scene.

So finally, in comes the final wagon of the night, and of course I'm on it. I just wanted to make sure I picked the BEST possible pumpkin for daddy to help me carve! What the hell is the big deal?! It takes time and precision to pick out the perfect Halloween pumpkin, I thought everybody knew that! What the SHIT?!?!?!

So, as my mother is telling me this story, she is now screaming at me like this just happened yesterday. "Why did you scare me like that?! Why didn't you stay with your group? You knew we were waiting for you, what took you so long?"

"What took me so long? What.... TOOK me so long?!?! I'll tell ya what took me so long! I was picking out the perfect pumpkin for my Halloween festivities! It had to be the perfect roundness and just the right height! A lot of kids spend too much time in the pumpkin patch! Shit, some are even born there! Oh wait... I'm thinking of the Cabbage Patch Kids... nevermind. Anyway, stop yelling at me YOU CRAZY WOMAN!!!"

Uggghh... it's funny how a little conversation like that can turn into a super stressful evening. Welcome to my world!

Be careful carving your pumpkins this year! Fingers are pretty important to have, please try and keep them all. Thanks bunches.

Putting the "Fun" in "Funeral".

So today I went to the funeral of my mother's Aunt Nancy. I didn't really know her, the last time I saw her I was about 13 or 14. She led a great life, and she lived to be 79. My second cousin is a priest, and he officiated the funeral. We sang the Ave Maria. I hate the Ave Maria. Don't get me wrong, it's a beautiful song... I just can't stand it. It's way too depressing for my taste.

I just want to say that funerals really suck. My great Aunt Nancy's family decided that they would have a viewing, which is probably the worst thing you can do to someone. Why would you want your closest friends and family to look at you after you've died? Everyone knows you're gonna look like crap. No amount of makeup can change the fact that you DO NOT look the same as you did when you were alive. So I've made the first definitive decision regarding my OWN funeral. NO VIEWING. Instead, put up some pictures of me looking absolutely fabulous. And then my friends and family can come through and say, "Wow, she looked absolutely fabulous." I have some pictures on standby, ready to be photoshopped just for the occasion.

Next decision: No churches. If my funeral was held at a church, half of my friends wouldn't be able to come because they would be struck by lightening when walking through the door. I've decided I want my funeral to take place at Phoenix Lanes Bowling Alley. That way, my friends and family can all gather in a place where I always had a great time. Everyone can get drunk and bowl, and it will be a marvelous time. I think that instead of mourning the loss of someone, you should actually celebrate that persons life by doing something they would have enjoyed. Like drinking and bowling... two of my favorite pasttimes.

So, here's how my funeral is looking: Everyone meets at Phoenix Lanes, views pictures of me looking absolutely fabulous, and then my second cousin Father George will bless the lanes that everyone is bowling on. But not with holy water, because that will make the lanes slippery and no one will get strikes. After the lanes are blessed, everyone will go to the bar in the bowling alley and get smashed. It will be a drunken bowling hootananny. Just the way I like it!

And if you simply MUST hear the Ave Maria, ask the DJ at the bowling alley to play a techno remix version.

Of course, if I live to be 99, or something like that, Phoenix Lanes might not still be standing.... I'm banking on the fact that it will still be there.

I hope everyone's week is going better than mine!

Mama said there'd be days like this..........

Sweet holy moses, where do I start.

We’ll start at 6 am, when I was awoken by the sound of some commotion taking place in the living room. It was just my dad getting ready for work, but it still woke me out of a sound sleep. Of course, I can’t fall back asleep, so I get out of bed and remind him that I don’t have to be up for another hour, and although my hearing is now very bad, I haven’t been declared legally deaf yet, so please keep it down to a dull roar. Much appreciated.

Since I was up disgustingly early, I decide to get ready for work and leave my house earlier than usual. Apparantly everyone else had the same idea, and I get trapped in this "Traffic Hell" that I can’t seem to escape from. So I’m doing about 2 miles per hour on a one lane road (the same road where the guy almost killed me and ran off with my cell phone - anybody remember that?) and this woman in an SUV decides she wants to go around me on the shoulder and make her own lane. She is trying so carefully not to hit my car, but there is no way in HELL this stupid bitch is going to get around me and create havoc for all the cars in front of me as well. I am just not going to let that happen.

So I beep at her. Her driver’s side door is practically IN my passenger seat, and I am beeping at her. She will not look at me. I am staring her down. And I am laying on the horn. Since she’s practically sitting in my car, I can see the look on her face - she’s scared. She’s scared that I am going to throw a brick through her window. Somehow, she knows me all too well. But I decide against the brick throwing option, and realize I must get her attention in another way. I roll down my passenger window. Her eyes glance over and notice my window going down. This bitch is seriously shaking in her boots.

I start hollering, "Hey! HEY! Bitch! This isn’t a fucking lane, bitch!" She finally looks directly at me. She points to a road up ahead where she would like to make a right. Oh that’s nice, I think to myself. She’s going to create her own "turn" lane and hit a bunch of cars in the process. Eventually she gets to where she wants to go, but she certainly didn’t get there any faster AND she raised my blood pressure higher than necessary. Basically, I spent an hour in the car this morning trying to get to work, which is 7 miles away. BULLSHIT.

Then I get to work, only to find that my esteemed coworkers and peers have an "issue" with me. It’s great to see that my supposed "role models" have no qualms about talking shit on me and figuring it won’t get back to me. Get a clue, bitches: When you speak loud enough, someone will hear it. It always gets back to me. Always. I would think that two-faced chicks would learn this by now.

And P.S.: If you’re gonna talk shit, at least have something worth talking about. Elliott Spitzers call girl is my best friend. I’m casually dating Kevin Federline. I have a home in the Bahamas that I frequent every weekend. And when I’m not working at this 9-5 hellhole, I’m a stripper at Cheerleaders. I’ve had 7 boob jobs and I’m renting Neverland Ranch for my birthday party in June. There you go, bitches... chew on that for a while.

And no, you can’t have my autograph.

To end the fantasticness of the day, I went to Friendly’s with my mom. They had a clown there who was making balloon hats for the little kids. My mom suddenly shouted, "I WANT A BALLOON HAT!" Then she looked at me and said, "If I wore a balloon hat.... would you still be my friend?"

Moms always know how to fix a bad day.