Slackers suck

Yep, I'm a huuuuge slacker.  I have neglected my 12 fans and 10's of readers on Facebook ... for that, I apologize.

The last time I wrote I bragged about how awesome my life was. I just got (what I thought was) my ideal job and I'd just started dating one of the coolest guys in the world. Well, half of that equation is still true, so I've got that going for me, huh?

I've been reminded that a job is a job is a job.  We all have to work to pay the bills, whether we're swinging on a pole, giving blow jobs in the back seat of a car, slinging burgers or selling bullshit.  Whatever it is, it's a job. We'd all prefer to get up each morning and look forward to what we're doing, but I'm pretty sure Brandy gets tired of sweaty dollar bills being shoved into her nether-regions and Lulu could stand taking a day off from orally pleasuring a sweaty, fat loser in the back of a Buick.

So, you may have guessed it: my job wasn't all that I'd hoped it would be.  I'm definitely not in love with it, but I'm holding onto hope that it will all work itself out. I am 100% positive that I'm learning valuable lessons and that does make me happy; I'd just prefer that the lessons weren't shoved down my throat quicker than that Japanese chick sucks down hotdogs in the Nathan's weiner eating contest. I'm choking!

My boyfriend, on the other hand, is effing fantastic!  The word "boyfriend" seems so trite, but I think referring to him as my "male friend" would make it sound cheap and meaningless, and he's definitely not that. I could refer to him as "Lucky Guy 2012," I suppose ... :) I kid ... I'm the lucky one.

For example, for those of you who weren't witness to the shit-storm that was Spiffy on Snake Saturday (a northland tradition), know that I was absolutely the drunkest I'd ever been. I was a stumbling, slurring, drunken piece of work by 12pm. Ugh.  

I blacked out most of the day, passed out at some point and woke up pissed off and ready to fight anyone who was willing.  He took care of me all day, lead me around by my hand, held my purse while I (may have) passed out in the shitter, made sure I got home safely, brushed off my attempts to fight and forgave me the next day. And did I mention HE'S HOT?!!  Karma is finally swinging back in my direction. :)

I need to think of new and exciting things to write about.  I wouldn't be Spiffy if I didn't have something to bitch about, right?? Suggestions??

Live long and prosper, friends. 

Boomerangs of love??

I know that my "Spiffy" alter-ego often comes off as a surly, smart-ass bitch, but the truth is I'm a bleeding heart, tree-hugging, hopeless romantic who believes that the world would be a better place if we all just got along (except Sarah Palin ... I don't want to get along with her. Or Ann Coulter. Or Nancy Grace. Or Carrot Top. He gives me the creeps). OK, maybe we can't all get along, but you get the picture, right?

I'm not a religious girl, but I do believe that the energy you put out into the universe will be sent back to you. If you're always negative and mean and rude, then it's likely you'll feel like you're constantly being bent over without so much as a kiss. 

On the opposite end of the spectrum, if you put positive thoughts into the universe and treat people how you'd like to be treated, good things will be sent your way. Call it good Karma or whatever you believe, but all I know is that good things are coming back around to me like boomerangs full of love! (Insert cheesy analogy).

I mentioned before that I got a new job, so you all should know that I. Love. My. Job. I haven't felt this "at home" and necessary and challenged at a job since I worked for McDonald's in 1985. It's important to be able to count the change back correctly and put the right amount of salt on the fries. Seriously ...

The next fantastic boomerang that has recently been thrown my way is in the form of a hot guy who wants to be my boyfriend. Tee hee!

You all know that I've been out on A LOT of first dates that haven't really lead to much of anything. I've gotten some great stories and have held onto hopes that one of the many frogs would turn out to be Timothy Olyphant (He's fucking fantastic and I'm not a Prince Charming kind of girl ...), and I think I've finally met my match.

I'll leave him his anonymity for now and keep the details of our budding relationship close to my heart, but I will tell you this; he's cool and sweet and he digs me. And he's hot ... that's all a girl can ask for, right? Thankfully, I've known him for around 10 years, so we don't have to pretend to be anything we aren't.  I know the player that he used to be and he knows the freak that I still am. :)

Until next time ... peace, love and hot sauce. I really like hot sauce.

Have you ever had the feeling that life is sitting on your chest, pinning you down and punching you in the face with your own fists, taunting, "why are you hitting yourself??" I've felt like that for a while now, but I think things are finally turning around!

I mentioned last week that I had a secret and I announced it on FB earlier in the week, but I want to talk about it here, too. I got a new job!

You remember when you were a kid and you dreamed about what you would be when you grew up? Well, all I ever dreamed about being was an MTV VJ. I wanted to be the next Nina Blackwood. I had the hair in the 80's and I smoked enough back then that I could have had her voice in no time flat.

When I realized that was highly unlikely, I then decided I'd take it down a notch and focus on being a DJ on a rock station. I mean, come on. DJ's get to meet all of the rock stars and just sit around and play music all day, right?

So I dropped $3k on the Columbia School of Broadcasting and took a correspondence course, learning important skills like how to properly pronounce Moscow (it's moss-ko, not moss-cow), and how not to pop my "ps" (I still haven't figured that one out), but you get the picture. All really, really important skills ...

Needless to say, that pipe dream went nowhere, and a new dream soon took hold of my heart: I wanted to work for an advertising agency. Unfortunately, I realized this dream in my early 30s, way too late in life to start over as an intern and work my way up. I've always held onto the dream, but I never really believed it would actually happen ... but it finally has!

As of February 13th, I'm an account executive with Gragg Advertising; a small shop with a big hold on the market. I'm super excited about the challenge and opportunity. I was made to do this and I have no doubt I'm going to kick this job's ass sideways, up, down and backward! I've always felt like I wasn't living up to my potential and I'm about to find out what I'm made of, believe that!

I have bitter sweet feelings about leaving my current job. I won't miss the job itself, but I will miss the people. Thankfully, I know the one's who matter will always be in my life. I just won't have the pleasure of laughing with them every day or busting into spontaneous chair-crunk dances.

The next chapter of my life is about to begin, and I promise it will be much more action-packed and with fewer typos than the last few ... Stay tuned.

Secrets, epiphanies and random mish-mash

Sorry that I've been AWOL for a few. I've had a lot going on (yeah, yeah ... don't we all). But seriously, I have.

Hey, guess what?  I have secrets. Yes, I know it's difficult to believe that I can keep anything to myself with as much "sharing" as I do on here, but I do have a couple of good, juicy secrets right now.  One of them I will hopefully be able to share soon, the other one, I most definitely will not.  It does make me feel naughty, though, telling you that I have a secret that I won't share. It's almost as good as sharing it. :)

Moving on ... I was talking to a friend this week about my recent epiphany that I need to leave some sort of legacy behind. I guess it's not really an epiphany; I've always wanted to make a mark on this world. It's more of a "come to Jesus" with my future self that I'd better get off my ass and figure out how I'm going to leave this world a better place than I found it on July 3, 1970 at around 8:32 a.m.  I mean, seriously. People were starting to wear hot pants, Michael Jackson had the #1 song and some maniac thief was President. It shouldn't be TOO difficult to kick 1970's ass, right?

He told me that my writing could be my legacy. I'm not sure that he's actually read my blog, but I guess it leaves some sort of legacy, or bad taste ... whatever you want to call it. :)

So, what am I going to do? I know I've talked about this before, but I'm still looking for some good ideas here, people!

I have one great friend who is a liberal, tree-hugging freak like me and is always willing to volunteer her time for the greater good. She has talked me in to judging a science fair next month (pause for laughter). Anyone who knows me knows that my experience with science projects went about as far as what I could mix with vodka without poisoning myself, but I'm going to give it a try! She assured me that there will be other scores and that my lack of scientific knowledge won't destroy these young, noble minds. I'll report the outcome, don't you worry.

I guess I need to close with random mish-mash since that's what I decided the title would be, so I'll give you this - I'm 99% sure I could never be a swinger. I appreciate the concept, but I can't willingly let some other woman perform unmentionable sexual favors for my man. Now ... if I were completely over him and didn't want to perform unmetionable sexual favors for him myself, that's another story.  That's why I left that 1% possibility in there ... :)

Peace, love and juicy secrets, friends!

I can't make this up, people ...

So, I haven't told this to the "blogosphere," but I was dating a guy for a few weeks.  Yep.  I made it to "a few weeks" status. (Confetti, horns, whoo hoos. Enough.)

This particular guy was someone whom I'd dated around four years ago.  It (obviously) didn't work out for various reasons.  The "relationship" (I use the term loosely) ended on bad terms back then, and I never thought I'd want to speak his name again let alone date him.  Time heals wounds, I suppose.  Or, in my case, faded just exactly how large of a douche bag he truly was ... for a few weeks.

When he started "pursuing" me again, I knew that I didn't feel the same way that I felt four years ago, but my dating life hadn't been all that fantastic lately so I thought I'd open up my heart and give it a try.  He assured me that he was "a different person," and I believed him.

I won't go into all of the details, but I quickly realized that the feelings weren't developing and likely wouldn't be rekindled. I could forgive how he'd treated me in the past, but I couldn't forget.

Unfortunately, he thought he could buy my affections: nice dinners, lots of movies, Christmas presents, you get the picture. Men, know this; regardless of how much money you throw at me, it's not going to make me dig you if you're truly a selfish, petty, lying douche bag.

It turns out he hadn't actually changed, he'd just gotten better at the bullshit.  He is still a petty, passive aggressive prick.

Case in point: When I told him that I'd like to talk to him about us, he asked me to send him a text message. When I apologized and told him that I just couldn't forgive the past and didn't feel "those feelings" for him, he told me he wished I would have told him before he spent all of the money on me. Yeah ... it's obvious you're a MUCH better person ...

I get it.  Your ego was bruised and your feelings were hurt, but take it like a man and move on.  Instead, I got a text message from him today asking if he could get his cock ring back.  No, seriously.  He wants his cock ring back.

So many thoughts ran through my head about how I could respond to this request. One daydream I had was just to send him a check for $25 and write "for the cock ring" in the memo line. I would send along a little note calling him a "petty little bitch" and tell him not to spend it all in one place. But, I decided that would make ME the petty little bitch and, quite honestly, I really don't want to waste $25 on a cock ring.

Then I thought about telling him that I don't have it any more, that my dog got ahold of it and it's now her chew toy. I figured he wouldn't believe that one, so I decided I'd just mail it to him. So hey, USPS, keep an eye out for a cock ring in a Scentsy box.  It's on the way!

Little does he know, I still have the last cock ring he left at my place four years ago, so I'm not down any sex toys.  Score one for Spiffy! :)

So ... what's next?

I graduated from college three weeks ago. After 23 years, I finally have a Bachelor's of Science in Marketing Management (I'll pause for applause ... thank you ... ).

I've been working on finishing my degree hard core for the past six years.  I've passed up on parties (OK ... I didn't pass on too many parties), but my social and dating life definitely took a hit.  I gladly sacrificed because finishing this leg of my education was so very, very important to me. 

I'm so very, very proud of myself and my accomplishment, but now I'm overwhelmed with the feeling that there has to be more to life, or more specifically, more to MY life.  What's next?  I spent six years working so hard, something great has to come out of this, right? 

I'm beginning to wonder what defines me.  I'm no longer a student, I'm not a mother, I'm not a wife - what or who am I??

I feel like I need to figure out a way to be more of a citizen of the WORLD than just a "being." 

I've been working on finishing this blog entry for three weeks and it still hasn't come together. My thoughts keep coming out in choppy sentences, so please forgive my lack of flow (and wit, apparently).   I think I'll finish with bullet points ...

- My job does not fulfill, challenge or enlighten me. I need to be fulfilled, challenged and enlightened.
- I need to figure out what my "legacy" will be.  It's unlikely I'll have children, so what will I leave behind?  How will the world remember me? 
- What can I do to be a better citizen of the world?  There are so many people who "need."  What can I do to help?
- Lastly, WTF is wrong with my stomach and why won't it quit churning?  (OK, that really doesn't have anything to do with my philosophical introspection, but my stomach is currently jacked.)

Does anyone have any advice for good, ole Spiffy?  Help me find my way through the forest of questions running through my head ...

*Warning* Serious Shit Below. Seriously.

A local TV personality took his own life this week.  What does that have to do with me?  I wasn't directly affected by the loss, but it made me stop and reflect on my past struggles, so I thought I'd share.

My heart hurts to think about the pain he must have been in to finally make the decision to take his own life.  On the outside he seemed happy, but I know that it's easy for people to mistake a happy face for a happy heart. Unfortunately, that's not always the case.

I'll start by letting you all know that I am not currently suffering from depression. I am not taking any medication and I'm happy with my life.  This wasn't always the case.

In the late 90's, I think around 98-99, I was depressed. I couldn't figure out why or how to make it better and felt like if I told anyone, they'd think I was crazy. Unfortunately, I come from a long line of crazy women, so I was doomed to deal with it one day ... :)

I lived in a cool apartment, I had a good job, I was in great shape and I had a lot of friends. The problem was, I could barely make myself get out of bed and function in the morning.  I was so sad, I just wanted to sleep, and actually fantasized about how nice it would be to just NOT wake up.

I never tried to take my life, but I seriously thought about it.  Seriously.

I finally saw a doctor, sought therapy and started taking medication.  It's hard to admit that I needed to take meds, but the fact is that depression is a REAL illness.  Chemical imbalance isn't something that will just "miraculously" correct itself. 

Eventually, things were once again "rosy" and I didn't need the meds any more.  Unfortunately, a few years later I was hit with the life equivalent of a Mack truck when I suffered two miscarriages in the scope of a year.  You talk about chemical imbalance!  My hormones were FUCKED UP!

This time instead of sleeping my life away, I decided to self-destruct.  I started smoking and drinking heavily, withdrew from my friends, and pushed my husband as far away from me as I could by cheating on him.  I didn't feel worthy of his love or anyone's love for that matter, so I did my best to make sure people didn't like me, and it worked.

It took a couple of years to pull myself out of the hole I dug, but I finally did and I'm at peace with who I am today.  I regret the mistakes that I made and how I treated my husband, friends and family, but I made it through and I still have my friends and family.  The husband, well, he moved on ... :)

There was one friend in particular who stuck by me at my worst and didn't turn her back on me when I was VERY unloveable. My girl, Jennifer, never judged me, she always listened to me and helped me feel better about myself.  I love you, Jen. :)

A few people have asked my why/how I can share so much about myself on my blog.  Trust me, I don't share everything, but if I can tell a story that someone else may relate to, then I feel it's worth it. 

We don't live in a bubble. We need to remember that our lives affect others, sometimes positively and sometimes negatively. 

If you have a friend who is struggling with something in their life, reach out and offer them a shoulder to cry on or ear to bend.  Let them know that you care about them. Do something, just don't turn your back on them when they need you most.