adventures in awkward

I had one of those strange moments the other day when I was laying down in bed with a hot cup of tea on my night stand and two purring kitties draped across my legs. I was happy. In my comfortable pillow-top bed with my favorite Harry Potter blasting loudly on the TV. (That’s the Half-Blood Prince. Obviously the best. Anyone who disagrees probably smells like farts.) I mean… can life really get much better than that? Doubtful. Then… I remembered what happened in Manchester the day before and started feeling guilty for having everything so good in life while other people are suffering and in pure devastation. I was ashamed of my happiness. Of how easy I have it. How amazing my husband is when women are treated like dogs in other countries (and sometimes even here, sadly.) For having family that would support me no matter the circumstance when others are dumped on the street and homeless with nowhere to turn.  I was physically ill over these poor people who were murdered trying to enjoy a concert, when I was sitting in bed enjoying all of my favorite things.  Life is cruel and unfair.

It was very much a “why me?” moment in my life. Except instead of being down on my luck and wondering “why is this happening to me?” it was the complete opposite. How did I get so lucky? I’m not even that nice of a person, so it’s definitely not something I deserve. I’ve been trying to come up with ways to actually help and make a difference. What do you guys do? I don’t want to be one of those people who post #prayforManchester (or whatever the current tragedy is) because it’s trendy and actually do nothing about it. Seriously, how many of the people who posted that on social media do you think really prayed or did anything to help? Probably not a lot.

It’s terrible how powerless you can be when there are so many people suffering.

(Usually I post humor, but I strayed from the theme this time! Sometimes it’s just necessary to branch out when the world is going to shit. Back to normal programming next post <3)

adventures in awkward

I wish depression was tangible so I could go all Lizzie Borden on its ass and swing an ax in its face 40 times. That’d be fair, right? Something has to be done because it’s not like it’s doing me any favors or anything. I’ve been hiding lately because, well… my brain has been in timeout. I should be back functioning and writing more often soon. There really needs to be a pause button on racing thoughts/doubt/paranoia/crazyshit so they aren’t constantly flooding our heads. All I need is a break. Is that too much to ask?

bringiton

Alex and I are desperately counting down the days until we are able to leave for vacation. This weekend we are going to the mountains to hike/find waterfalls and stay in a resort in western North Carolina. At the end of June, we will meet up with my family and stay in the Outer Banks at a beach house for a week. We are so close, yet so far. In the meantime, I found this hilarious list on Reddit about real reviews of vacations people went on. Sometimes the stupidity of people is the best way to brighten your day. They are a good reminder that, hey… at least you don’t live life with your thumb in your ass and no common sense.

Here we go…

“They should not allow topless sunbathing on the beach. It was very distracting for my husband who just wanted to relax.”  (Are you married to a toddler?  Surprisingly, people have the ability to control what they look at! Crazy, isn’t it?)

“The beach was too sandy. We had to clean everything when we returned to our room.”  

“No one told us there’d be fish in the water. The children were scared.” (Stop raising pussies. They don’t contribute much to society.)

(Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m just kidding.)

buzzlife
“Although the brochure said that there was a fully equipped kitchen, there was no egg-slicer in the drawers.” (It’s called a knife in most countries, dipshit.)

“I think it should be explained in the brochure that the local convenience store does not sell proper biscuits like custard cremes or ginger nuts.” (What the hell are these things? I’ve never heard of them!)

“It took us nine hours to fly home from Jamaica to England. It took the Americans only three hours to get home. This seems unfair.”

“When we were in Spain, there were too many Spanish people there. The receptionist spoke Spanish, the food was Spanish. No one told us that there would be so many foreigners.”

“It is your duty as a tour operator to advise us of noisy or unruly guests before we travel.”  (Did you want the operator to change your Depends for you too?)

“I was bitten by a mosquito. The brochure didn’t mention mosquitoes.”

We are surrounded by geniuses, folks. Be scared.

Do you have any plans for relaxing this summer? Vacations? Staycations? Laying around on the couch like a vegetable while you stuff yourself full of ice cream and margaritas?

adventures in awkward

Remember when the hardest decision you’d have to face all day was what flavor Kool-Aid you wanted to have? It was an important choice, fueled by the fear that if you didn’t pick the right one it wouldn’t complement the taste of your Flintstone’s vitamins. I ate those like crack when I was a kid. When my mom wasn’t looking I’d crawl onto the counter and steal an entire handful and shove them into my grubby little mouth. She caught me once, and moved them to a place where I couldn’t reach no matter how hard I tried. That was the first time I remember wishing that fire would rain down on her. How dare she do such a thing! The nerve of that woman.

flintstones

Yesterday Alex and I were having a lengthy conversation about Hot Pockets. I know… wtf, right? We talk about some random shit in my house. Hot Pockets aren’t exempt. When I was a kid, I thought Hot Pockets were the best invention. I even wrote a small report on them for school about their greatness. I thought that they were packaged in something that would, quite literally, keep them hot while they were in your pocket. Great for people who wanted a snack while they were in class or people who couldn’t take a break at work. I was amazed. What a genius idea.

So, I didn’t grow up wanting to be a ballerina or a veterinarian. I grew up wanting to work for whoever made Hot Pockets. My parents wanted me to aim high. So I did.

buzzlightyearkids

I love the innocence of childhood. Luckily, I’m surrounded by young nieces and nephews to remind me how great life is when you’re young. Actually, I’m going to leave y’all with a joke my 4-year-old niece told me last weekend that had her rolling around in laughter.

A hippo put on a purple coat.

 

…….. I wish I was as funny as her.

Also, Happy (late) Mother’s Day to all the Mom’s that read here. Y’all are strong, kickass women. I raise my invisible morning mimosa to you!

adventures in awkward

Ever love something so much you want to squeeze it so tight that its eyes pop out and guts burst all over your walls and decorate it with a nice red tinge? Sure, it’s a bit brutal like a scene from Dexter when he’s hacking the shit out of one of his victims and bathing in their blood, but that’s okay. It’s out of love, you know? My mom always told me it was the thought that counts, so… as long as you do it with good intentions it’s okay. (That’s how it works, right?) Anyways, the point of this ramble was to tell you guys that I love you. So much that I want to hug you so tight you can’t help but shit yourself. I really appreciate and have all the feels for this community.

Anyways, I was nominated for an award by R Cawkwell. Since I never follow to the rules to these things, I thought I’d answer the questions she asked, then turn and ask y’all questions of my own so we can learn more about each other. It’s a fun game, so answer them damn it! Or sit in the corner being a party pooper while you pick your nose. Whatever works.

She asked me:

  1. When did you start writing? I started writing poetry when I was in junior high. It was absolutely terrible, but it spawned my love for writing.
  2. Pluto: Planet or not? YES. Of course. Don’t disrespect Pluto just being it’s smaller than the others. Didn’t your parents teach you manners?
  3. Favorite place to write? At my desk, I’m not hipster enough to write in public.
  4. Pen or word processor for the first draft? Word processor. My hands hurt way too fast when I write by hand.
  5. If you were a mythical creature, what would you be? A hippogriff. Because, uh… Harry Potter kicks ass.

 

My questions for y’all:

  1. If you could recommend ONE show right now, what would it be?
  2. Would you rather spend the rest of your life with giant testicles on your chin, or having hooves instead of hands?
  3. If you could choose any celebrity to hit the sheets with, who would it be?
  4. Who’s your favorite blogger around these parts? (Besides me, obviously!)
adventures in awkward

Random-As-Shit Thursday Thoughts

1. I read an article two years ago that a study found men’s beards to be stocked full of poop. Not literal chunks or anything, just the poop particles that float around because people are God-awful at washing their hands. (Don’t be like that, assholes. Wash your damn hands! Do you really want to bear the responsibility of a stranger accidentally putting your poop in their mouths?) Anyways, I’ve been using this as a reason to convince my husband not to grow his beard too long. “The longer it gets, the poopier it smells!” or “If I get pink eye from hugging you, hell is going to rain down!” Well, he discovered that it was somewhat of a myth, sadly. Beards aren’t more likely to have poop in them than any other thing in the world thanks to nasty ass people. Guess I’ll have to start getting used to the fact he might look like the next hillbilly that rolls out of Duck Dynasty.

2. Is anyone going crazy with summer right around the corner, counting down the days until they can go on vacation? It feels like this every year for me the second Spring is in full swing. It’s all I can think about doing. Man, we have a few trips planned for the beach in the next couple months, and I’m literally crossing off days on the calendar one-by-one until we get there. It’s like my body is craving it. Granted, our first week-long trip is sharing a beach house with my entire family, and the second one is sharing a house with Alex’s entire family. I’m not sure these are the ideal ‘relaxation’ vacations, but I figure it will at least be fun. Or we might return home crazier than we left. Who knows. It will be a fun experiment. Do you have any vacation plans you are looking forward to?

3. The other day I saw an article about women now choosing to “free bleed.” You know, not using any tampons/pads and just letting it flow wherever it goes. It cited a woman running a marathon in white shorts covered in blood, and an Instagram post of a woman bleeding while doing yoga. I was… disturbed. I understand it’s a normal body function and all, but no. JUST NO. STOP IT. I know it’s 2017, but some shit doesn’t need to be shared, you lunatics!

adventures in awkward

When I was young there was a woman who lived across the street from me that I had on good authority to be a witch. She lived in a small one-story house closed in by a tall wooden fence with paint chipping off, and covered in a shade of pine trees. Let’s be real here – she scared the ever-living shit out of me and all of the other kids I knew. Theories flooded the neighborhood, and when you’re an impressionable six-year-old, it’s not a big leap into believing she killed her husband and let her dog eat his corpse in some sort of sadistic ritual. I was convinced. Every time I saw her walking her massive German Shepherd down the street, I clutched my Cabbage Patch Kid, hid, and sent out a few prayers. She frightened me so much I’d start crying if I was alone outside, or if I thought she caught me through a window. It was a truly terrifying time. She was my Boo Radley.

I’ve had an ongoing issue with one of the neighborhood kids in my cul-de-sac. I’ve posted about him before – making him swim in dog-poop-water, and kicking him in the balls one night when he walked – without knocking – in my front door. To sum it up, he’s a kid that has no respect for anybody and has asshole parents that don’t pay attention to him. I haven’t had much issue with him lately, except for the fact he leaves shit in my yard all the time even after I ask him multiple times to move them. So, I decided to start storing them in my garage for him, you know, so they don’t get ruined. I wouldn’t want his pretty new bike to get rusted or something, right? Okay, I’m a petty thief. I’ll admit it.  I noticed him yesterday evening knocking on every person’s door but mine looking for his bike. He would glance over towards our house, but he was too afraid to come ask. I even went outside to get the mail, giving him a chance to talk to me in a neutral area, but he scurried away inside the second I started to emerge.

This kid literally ran away from me and was willing to give up his new bike just so he didn’t have to talk to me. That’s pretty bad. So, I’ve come to the sad realization that I am somebody’s Boo Radley, too. I don’t know if I should take it as an honor, or feel bad about it. Am I that crazy that the townsfolk are scared of me? Should I try to make nice with these kids, or ride it out until Halloween and  try to scare them so much it’ll be a night they’ll never forget? What do I do with this great power?

(Don’t worry, this morning I wheeled his bike back to his front yard. I didn’t actually intend on keeping it.)

On another note – today is my 3-year-anniversary for signing up on WordPress. Woo! Granted, I didn’t start actually blogging until months after that.

adventures in awkward

I’ve never done this before, but instead of being, you know… productive this morning and writing the post I had planned, I ended up spending two hours reading every.single.post I’ve made since I started this blog. That’s almost two years worth. I was going to write about a funny story from my childhood but for the life of me – I couldn’t remember if I’d posted about it before. I’m worried I’m going to start repeating myself and look like a complete idiot. Have you guys gotten to that point yet? My mind has gone to complete crap. Maybe it’s my age or the long term effect of eating too many cheese balls as a kid, but I’m blaming 4/20 even though I haven’t smoked in years. Yep, definitely the weed’s fault.

So, for the first time ever, I’m going to do a ‘Friday Flashback‘ post and share one from over a year ago. It goes along well with the fact that I’ve been feeling a bit down from having a lack of a life/friends lately. (Why is it so hard to make friends as an adult? I never had this issue when I was younger.)


February 2016:

I recently stumbled upon a blogger who was reviewing a local restaurant right down the road from me. It made me pretty excited, so I posted a comment and tried to connect with her. I really had no intention of meeting this person, I just wanted to tell her how much I agreed with her good review and next time she should get the Bacon & Pimento Cheeseburger because it will give her a mouthgasm. (If you don’t know what Pimento cheese is, you’re not living life.)

 

Well… she never responded to me. I figured I might come across a bit crazy in my writing, so I thought reaching out to her in an email would clear my name and make her feel more at ease:

“Hi!

I commented on your post recently and I’m worried I came across weird and freaked you out. Don’t be scared. I didn’t want to meet up with you or anything like that. I know I come across a little crazy on my blog… but I assure you I’m more of a “I made my 8-year-old niece try a dog treat crazy” rather than a “I’m going to find your house and harvest your organs crazy.” Speaking of your house, the one on your Bio page is so cute. So is your dog. If you want to be friends, I’m just down the road.

-Blair”

Pretty sure I made it worse. You win some, you lose some right?

Lesson of the Day : If you want to make new friends off the internet, don’t mention living down the road from them and harvesting their organs in the same paragraph.

PS – I promise… I’m really not crazy! Well, not serial killer crazy at least.

adventures in awkward, giveaways

I’m not sure if it’s allergies. the weather changing, or something a bit more sinister, but lately I’ve had such a bad migraine I wonder if I’m moments away from my brain exploding and decorating the walls of my home. Which I imagine would be quite painful and life-ending, but who knows, I could be the originator of the next great home design trend. Not that I want other people’s brains to end up on their walls – but maybe red paint thrown against the wall like blood spatter will be the next big thing. That’s something to look forward to, right? Being a trendsetter? There’s always a silver lining if you search hard enough.

I’ve been meaning to pick up the frequency of my posts again this past week, but with family over for Easter and Satan plaguing me with the migraine from hell, I’ve been a bit distracted. I actually didn’t put it together until right now, but maybe there’s a connection. I think I’m being bitch-slapped by the devil on the holiest of holidays. I’m convinced.

Anyways… thanks to everyone for entering the giveaway to win a $20 Amazon gift card. It was fun to see all the yummy food everyone was craving, and exceedingly torturous at the same time for someone who eats a very strict diet. I asked for it, though!

The winner, who was drawn at random is…. zongrik ! The food she was craving at the time she commented was mango slices. Mmmm. Very summery and refreshing. I’d definitely go for that.

(zongrik – email me within a week at theshamefulsheep@yahoo.com, and I’ll send the gift card your way!)

Do any of you ever read funny Amazon reviews? They seriously kill me.

adventures in awkward, giveaways

Why does it seem like the majority of bloggers are much cooler than the people I meet in person? I’ve said this a few times here, but I’m reiterating because it seems strangely true. I’d rather fall ass-first into a dildo factory or have someone crap in my hand at a Broadway show and be forced to give a standing ovation than meet random schmucks in person. So, because I love you guys, and because the weather has been hot and sunny and putting this negative Nancy in a good mood, I wanted to do a small Amazon gift card giveaway this week.  I mean, who doesn’t want a free $20 to Amazon? They have just about everything. (And I can just email it out, so you don’t have to worry about me showing up at your doorstep with a meat pie made of roadkill I scraped off my driveway.)

I’m just doing this for fun, so the only thing you need to do in order for a chance to win is answer the question below in the comment section. You can enter up until Tuesday night 04/18 at 11:59pm EST. I’ll post the winner on Wednesday morning. If you have Amazon in whatever country you live in – you are eligible to win.

(Benny D. Sheep and the cat’s butt are not included in the giveaway. If you follow me on Twitter, Benny is the smaller version of the huge sheep I found in Kroger the other day. Isn’t he cute?)

Maybe one day I’ll actually make some sort of money of this blog, and I can start doing big giveaways. That would be fun.

Here’s the random question you need to answer in order to enter: If you could eat anything you wanted right now, what would it be?

adventures in awkward

I feel overwhelmingly stressed lately. This has far surpassed the slight worry over what I’m going to make for dinner or the best way to organize my prized box of multicolored beanie babies that’s hidden away in a locked, temperature controlled storage room on the other side of town. They are worth so much money, they really do deserve the best treatment.  I’m deep into the realm of feeling like I’m trapped on the beach and someone is burying me alive under the weight of a thousand pounds of sand. I’m suffocating. The weird part is – nothing has really changed, so I don’t know why it has come on so suddenly. That’s likely the problem – I’m ready for a change that just hasn’t come yet.

So, today I’ve convinced my husband to finally go see Beauty and the Beast with me. And, you know what… I’m throwing caution to the wind. I’m going for the M&Ms. No, fuck it. I’m getting peanut M&Ms. I’m so tired of having to count/measure every single bite that goes into my damn mouth. Why can’t I just be naturally skinny like my siblings? I really got screwed on the gene pool. Being in a constant state of trying to lose weight and work out has me feeling like I’m tiptoeing into crazy town. Why can’t pizza, cupcakes, and a plate of good southern bbq be healthy and rabbit food be what’s killing us? Why, God, WHY? Why do this to us? The inhumanity. (Okay, I’m done with my hissy-fit. Nothing to see here. Carry on.)

The only thing that’s blatantly spiking my anxiety is my cats, so if you’re a cat lover/owner/trainer/whatever,  and you have any advice for a situation I’m in – it would be much appreciated. I don’t want to go deep into it on here, but it has to do with cats not getting along/stalking/litter box aggression. If you could message me on Twitter or email me at theshamefulsheep@yahoo.com I’ll love you forever and maybe even send you cookies. Or maybe I’ll just eat a cookie in your honor. That’s the same…right?