Don’t tell Grandma

Jeff’s mom spoils me rotten. And she did it again for my birthday.

With a new Coach purse. (She promises she got a rock star deal so that makes me feel a little less guilty about her getting me another beautiful bag.)

She knew when she walked in on Saturday that she was going to be “in trouble” even hiding the gift bag, which boasted Coach all over it behind her back. But I don’t think either of us thought “trouble” when I opened the gift and was absolutly delighted. The purse, it’s so me. Even my mom, who doesn’t understand fancy purses because she’s never carried a purse in her life said, “it’s so you.” And it is. However, we will not show Grandma this photo:

Or this one:

26

Our parents got along swimmingly, which was probably the most perfect way to bring in 26. I am truly blessed to have so many that love me.

I can’t quite put into words what it meant to me to spend my birthday – a hard birthday, for some reason – surrounded by people I love. By people I love to be around.

For 26, I hope great things. I have big dreams and big ideas.

And for 26, I had a great birthday dress:

Note to self

Dear young woman (I assume) who searched “everything is not equal in my job” and got to this blog (or, advice I’d give my 10-year-old self as an almost-26-year-old):

Stand up for yourself. Call your human resources person, make a stink. Because you know what I’ve learned, sometimes you actually get more with vinegar than you do with sugar or honey or whatever the saying is. Example: The first time there was a hold on my unemployment check I bitched, cried, snotted, complained, called everyone in the dang state office that would listen and within three days, I had a check. This time, I’ve let it go, I’m waiting my “21 or more days” for a phone call and you know what? It’s been two fricken weeks and I have no fricken money. Which leads me to the next piece of advice: Buy yourself a birthday dress. Even if you are broke and don’t have a job, you deserve that dress. After all, it is your birthday. So I did.

Ask questions. You are entitled to them. Don’t take “I don’t know for an answer.” Which is exactly what I did when I got fired. I took “I don’t know” for an answer and 12 weeks later, I don’t know why I lost my job. Not for real anyway. I know what it says on the piece of paper, I know what they told me, I have the statement they gave to the unemployment people, but none of it matches up. When I asked for more of an explanation and got “I don’t know” I settled. Don’t do that. If the person who should be able to help you isn’t, go over their head.

Do not quit that job. The job market sucks. Don’t follow a dream, or make decisions on a whim. Stay in your crummy job and look for another one.  Go to college.  Do your research, ask questions and take that “follow your dreams” crap with a grain of salt. Dreams die.

Consider a career in something technical or a trade. The world will always need plumbers and mechanics.

Pick up the phone and call somebody. It’s hard to follow this advice, especially when you can totally just send an e-mail. But at the end of the day, we’re all humans and being on the phone always makes human instinct kick in and holds people a little more accountable.

Don’t let your career define who you are.

Get involved with a group of kids, or residents at an old folks home, even just do a stint at a booth somewhere. I am so  sick of people complaining about their surroundings, politics, the state of the world and society in general. Because the truth is, unless you give back – attend that community fundraiser, buy those cookies you don’t really need, write a check to an organization in your community you believe in – you have no right. Everything comes full circle; you get what you give.

That’s probably all the advice a girl approaching 26 with a chip on her shoulder should give. But there you have it, hopefully you Miss “everything is not equal in my job” can pull something from all this nonesense. Good luck to you (and I mean that).
Best,
Mandy

Birthday week

I celebrated my 22nd birthday just a little more than one month after Jeff and I met.

When I got home from my night shift at the paper he handed me a huge moving size box. It was light, but filled. With Chex Mix. Every kind I could think of.

I thought it was absolutely cute that the new guy I was dating noted one of my favorite things in the world (at the time) and ran with it. My heart fluttered.

“Dig to the bottom of the box,” he said that night.

So I did. To my surprise, there was what is now an old-school digital camera. Six megapixels. That thing could take a whole two photos per 60 seconds. I loved it. In fact, that little Nikon is still in a drawer in our house, I’ll probably keep that thing forever. It was a really nice gift.

Jeff is a good gift buyer. He’s really good. (I have a cute ring from Tiffany & Co. that he picked out all by himself to prove it.) Which is why it’s adorable and mind blowing all at once that he FREAKS OUT every year around my birthday. And he does this in his own little way. Like by, on the days leading up to my birthday, asking me if I want a certain thing every 45 seconds. Yes honey, I want all the things you’ve been listing; just get me what you want to get me. That’s the point. Plus, I want to be surprised, I don’t want to know before my birthday gets here what I’m getting.

My birthday is on Saturday and he will do this to himself up until the last second. Then he’ll act like he didn’t get a gift at all. Then after he gives it to me, he’ll question for another week whether I like it. He’ll even go so far as to say, “You hate your birthday gift” randomly out of the blue.

So there we have it, this is birthday week.

A few photos of Jack

This is the lame stuff I make Jack do. Pose next to a vase of flowers. He clearly hates me here. Ha.

“Mama, I’m hot.”

“Ok Lovee, here is a sheet. And a fan. And yes, we’ll turn on the AC for you.”

(And that’s how we gave in and turned on the air.)

Copy cat

I can’t…
Change my own flat tire. Drink coffee without cream and sugar. Exist without coffee. Stay mad at my dog for more than 42 seconds. Resist drinking all the juice out of those lemon shaped things filled with lemon juice. Live without water, Jeff or chapstick.

I can..
Drive a stick shift car. Eat an entire frozen pizza. Sing that song that lists the United States in alphabetical order. Cook. Stand up for myself fairly easily. Be offensive with my outspokenness. Cook a mean pan of hashbrowns.

I won’t…
Ever agree with you that abortion is even sometimes OK. Believe you if you tell me you were using birth control properly and “just got pregnant.” Ever think Pepsi is better than Coke. Stand up for you if I think you’re wrong. Lie, cheat or steal to get ahead.

I will…
Always say what I’m thinking when I feel it’s important. Cry. Be loyal to my friendships and my relationship with Jeff. Smoosh my doggie’s face in the first 30 seconds I walk in the door. Again have a full time job, someday. Continue to volunteer for organizations I feel passionately about. Listen when people need to talk. Be the one updating my Twitter status far too frequently.

I shouldn’t…
Feel guilty or angry or blame the fact that I lost my job on myself; ever. Check the news or my email as frequently as I do. Get mad at Jeff for not understanding all things social like I do. Eat after 7, allow ice cream sandwiches in the house or drinks so much coffee. Be so gossipy. Stalk my old place of work’s website.

I should…
Get an oil change in the Mazda. Start writing a book. Be proud of myself more often. Work out (more.) Eat healthier. Enjoy this time without a full time job more. Always wear sunscreen.

Read Brandy’s list here.

The last 48 hours

I’ve wished all the appropriate dads in my life a happy day.

I sang “Short Dick Man” out loud. Including the stuttery part. You know, “don’t, don’t, don’t…”

A close friend of ours became a father.

I went to sleep before the sunset after spending the day at the beach.

I got the first sunburn of the year. And tan lines.

I’ve eaten approximately six ice cream sandwiches. (HEY! It’s hot out.)

I volunteered for a cause that helped feed the hungry and attended an event that raised money for cancer research.

I made Jeff buy me two sports bras from Sam’s Club because I felt silly buying sports bras from Sam’s Club. (2 for $10 and they are seamless microfiber.)

I had a picnic with my boyfriend and my dog at the beach, on a blanket. With $9 per pound chicken salad that rocked my socks off.

The bathroom is clean, the laundry mostly done and the wood tables were dusted. Dish washer also emptied (by Jeff), which makes me smile.

I ate too many radishes, too much freshly baked bread, too many home made chocolate muffins. All worth every calorie.

I drank morning coffee on the couch wearing an actual night gown thingie. (It’s not grandma-ish.) It’s cute. And pink.

I walked on dunes.

Jeff got tan lines in the shape of sunglasses, his olive skin grew tan from taking his shirt off at the beach (hot!!) and his hair reached that perfect stage that stays for about a week before it turns into “you need a haircut.”

Oh, I wore a bikini and swam in our pool. Good weekend, it was.

On The News

Happy Father’s Day to my human daddy.

Love, Your beagle, Jack.

One of those catch up posts

Sometimes I Tweet so much that I forget how to blog. True story.

And I’ve been Tweeting so much lately (a lot of time on my hands? no) that I just haven’t had anything substantial to blog about. This post included. Please accept my apology in advance.

Turns out, I got really involved in this upcoming community event that Jeff is cooking in and now I’m Tweeting for the organization the fundraiser supports and then I am doing a Live Tweet thingie the night of the event – June 27. My birthday!

So yeah, there’s that – less than 10 days until I’m the big 2 – 6.  I sort of want to skydive, we’re considering doing Taste of Chicago again this year, or I’ll just take one of those watch thingies that tell me how far I’ve hiked or biked and maybe my pace.

I spent the day with my prego BFF early this week and was relieved to find out that even with a baby bump she’s the same person. She waddles a little and I feel like a creepo because all I want to do is look at her adorably cute pregnant body. For a few small minutes during the day on Monday, especially when I observed her down an ice cream bar from scrub clothes on the couch, I considered what it might like to be pregnant. I’m so not ready, but she does make pregnancy look good. Maybe I could do that.

Tina said the baby kicks now, that she can feel her inside but daddy can’t feel her outside. I asked so many questions. The baby is just less than one pound and about 11 inches long, she’ll be able to open and close her eyes in just two short weeks from now.  Anywho. And she’s getting a super cool lime green room. Jealous!

What else? OH! My journalism teacher (and self proclaimed mentor) from college had an affair with the police chief. Home wrecker.

Lucky

We spent the weekend hiking and I took this photo, which makes me feel lucky and in love. So there you have it.