Blogtember, The Final Day: Two Best Friends That Anyone Can Have

Today’s topic: Share a photo of something old. Maybe something that has personal history for you, that was passed down to you, and that has special meaning to you. Tell us about it and why it’s special.

Today is the very last day of Jenni’s Blogtember challenge and I’m so happy to have been a part of a great month-long of topics. It’s been so fun and has exposed me to numerous other blogs that are entertaining and a great read! Plus it really helped me with content since I’ve been super crazy busy with work!

Tomorrow I start a new 13 month challenge! It’ll be exciting so hold on to your pants! More info to come!

But today’s topic is to share a photo of something old. And I’m sharing an old photo of my grandma and I. (I’m not sharing it because my grandma is old…calm down!)

gram + i (circa 1984)

gram + i (circa 1984)

This woman. Where do I even begin? This is the woman that raised me and over the course of my life, moved from being my grandmother to being a mother, a friend, a confidante, a Hawk, a disciplinarian, and all of the things under a moon a person who raises you can be. When my dad moved in with his parents after his divorce from my mom, this was the person who I spent 97% of my time with. She woke me up for school (sometimes screaming at me because I DID NOT want to get up), she made me breakfast (and that’s where I know a lot more country songs than I should because she listened to Chicago’s US 99 all.the.damn.time.), she took me on her errands, and she took me clothes and school shopping. She was the person who was home when I arrived home from school every day. She was a homemaker, and she ran our house.

We always say in our family that she gives out “tough love.” And, it’s so very true. She loves all of us (my dad, uncle and me) fiercely. And she has the endearing nickname of “The Hawk” in our family because she knows EVERYTHING. Seriously, you cannot sneak anything past this woman. And if you DO make it past her – you feel a retched guilt.

She never had a daughter and she always wanted one. So, when I moved in with my dad, I became her daughter. I still think she loves me more than my dad and uncle! Ha! 🙂 She is and always has been an amazing woman. She has some of the BEST stories about her younger years and I could listen to her talk for days about the things she and my grandpa used to do, where they used to go, about her job developing pictures in a photo shop, or how my grandparents went rollerskating all of the time when they were in their 20s. She’s old school. She hates technology, but she’s smart as a whip and I love her ever so much for that.

I don’t get to spend as much time with her as I’d like to, and sometimes that really breaks my heart. She’s one of a very few people on this earth that loves me no matter what. She raised me, and although she and I butted heads more than a few times in my life (hey! I was a bratty kid), she was always, always, always there for me, no matter what.


Blogtember Day 19: There’s a Snark in the Water

Today’s topic: An anonymous letter to your Facebook friends. Be as snarky as you’d like. (but don’t include people’s real names.)

Today’s Blogtember topic will make heads roll. So I think I’m going to tread lightly and try to talk pretty vaguely because I don’t have time in my life to handle drama.

First of all – there have been a number of times where I’ve seriously contemplated de-friending or even blocking certain people because of their daily mushy love rants to their significant other. You live with the person. They know you love them. Why do you send them public proclamations of love daily on Facebook? It’s weird, impersonal and a bit too much.

I’m actually part of a rare few that like to see pics of other people’s kids on Facebook. There’s silly poses and wacky smiles, and most of all my friend’s love for their little human being. But when we’re doing weekly posts counting down their age? It’s annoying. I’d rather see your kid playing, spending time with you, or something other than a pose and an announcement of their age. Pardon me while I tune out.

QUIT asking me to play Candy Crush on Facebook. I play it. I’m not addicted to it. But I REFUSE to hook it up to Facebook. I don’t need people to see how often I play and I don’t want to borrow you lives or whatever else the perks of hooking it up to Facebook provides. Let me play my game by myself.

Stop threatening to “clean up your friends list.” Do it already and don’t warn people. Are you looking for them to beg you to keep them? You’re. Crazy. Stop. Being. Crazy.

Quit airing your dirty laundry all over Facebook. It may be monumental to you, but I really think people should limit the sharing of super personal information on Facebook. If I wanted to know every exact detail of your crappy experiences, down and out life, etc. I’d talk to you in person. Why are you sharing this information online? It just makes for a good soap opera in real life for me.

Mkay. That was snarktastic. So I’ll end there. WHEW! What are your biggest pet peevs of people on Facebook?

Blogtember Day 18: Take me to the coffee shop…

Today’s topic: Go to a coffee shop. Order a favorite drink. Write about what makes you happy and what makes you sad. Or write about anything you’d like! Bonus points for including a photo from the coffee shop. 

Today’s Blogtember prompt takes me to a local coffee shop for post writing, which is completely unrealistic for me on a Thursday. A) Because I cannot wake up earlier than 6 am for my hour+ drive to work, B) It’s JP nurse clinical day and she’s outta the house at the crack of dawn which means I’m in charge of the pups morning care and C) I’m just not AWAKE first thing in the morning. Excuses, excuses. But I did make it to my usual morning pit stop at Starbucks on my way into work and tried NOT to be a huge creeper taking pics of myself in the parking lot and inside the store. I really don’t think that worked out much. All my pics came out blurry except this one:

this is quite possibly the worst picture of me ever

this is quite possibly the worst picture of me ever

So today I have the option of writing about what makes me happy or what makes me sad. Or, anything really. I think I’m going to list it out and do both… let’s get cray cray on this Thursday. What!

Things That Make Me Happy:

  • warm coffee on a cold/chilly morning
  • coming home to JP after a long day at work
  • seeing my nephew laugh
  • talking with my dad
  • new pens
  • hearing a client is happy with my work
  • tropical beaches
  • New Girl and The Mindy Project
  • lazy weekends with JP

Things That Make Me Sad:

  • people with a vision impairment (my uncle is blind and tugs at my heart strings)
  • senior citizens (aren’t they so cute?!)
  • saying goodbye
  • not being able to spend a lot of time with my dad and grandma
  • thinking about world tragedies
  • when my gas light goes on in my car 25 minutes away from home
  • my drive to and from work
  • adults with speech impediments (ugh, i just want to hug them)
  • anything to do with the harming or mistreatment of ANY animal

Mkay, enough with the bumming out. Chicago is getting a warm surge for the weekend and we might get to see 80 degrees by Saturday. Then, the fall rushes back in and we’re back down to the 60s on Sunday. It’s crazy how the weather is when the seasons start to change. I’m looking forward to the colors of the changing leaves. It’s one of my favorite things about the fall. So beautiful and majestic. What are somethings that just totally make your day?

Blogtember Day 17: Oops, My bad

Today’s topic: Write about a time you screwed up – a mistake you made.

Today’s Blogtember topic is a tough one. Which mistake do I pick? Which one has made an impact? Is there one worth noting? One of the things I pride myself on when thinking about past mistakes, especially those epic ones, is that 99.9% of them happened and something better occurred in it’s place (or because of it). So it’s hard to say that you make a mistake and really get pummeled internally by it – sometimes it opens new doors and windows to opportunities you couldn’t imagine existed.

One time that I messed up (and was mortified and completely embarrassed) was back in 6th grade. A girl and I were swapping notes back and forth in class – you know those cool intricately folded up notes from the 90s?

I can’t remember exactly what we were talking about but vaguely remember it started as asking what each other were doing over the weekend. We lived near each other and I think we were trying to make plans to hang out. Well. It escalated pretty quickly (not a fight) and before I knew it, the note was ravaged with curse words galore! I don’t remember  that we were in an argument, I think we were just trying to “out-do” each other in the beautiful language we were both experimenting with.

Well, on it’s way back up to me our teacher happened to walk by. (And I completely blame the other girl for getting caught because she was not “looking out” for the teacher) The teacher snatched up the note and looked at us and said (verbatim): “OH! What do we have here!?”  My heart sunk. My head hurt. I knew I was in for loads of trouble.

In my household, you didn’t get in trouble. I was supposed to be the good girl and to behave when I went to school. It didn’t always happen, but I knew that if school called home and woke my dad up from sleeping (since he worked a 3rd shift job when I was in elementary school) that $h*t was about the hit the fan. Once she opened the note, she saw the nasty language we had been spreading back and forth with each other and her eyes popped open. We were immediately sent to the Principal’s Office. My life was ruined (well, that’s how it felt). My dad was called in to talk to the principal – she told him that it was unacceptable behavior. I don’t blame her. My partner-in-crime and I were both handed one week after school detentions as punishment. DETENTION!

My heart sank. Only degenerates went to detention. The “bad” kids. Who was I going to walk home from school with when I was 45 minutes behind the bell? We sat in the hallway on the first floor right by the entrance doors. We all had to sit separately in chairs and were required to write a sentence 100 times before we could leave. I’m not really sure what I promised to 100 times over, but I remember that my 6th grade self was fuming and a friendship was already semi-shattered. I was embarrassed in front of the classroom a few hours earlier, I was embarrassed sitting among other students I didn’t associate with, I was embarrassed when my dad found out about my actions and I was embarrassed when I returned home every night that week after my 45 minutes sitting in that hallway.

I think I definitely learned a lesson after that experience. I think it was truly one of the first experiences I had realizing that I had a reputation and what did that mean to myself and my family? What impact my actions had on how other people thought of me. It’s also safe to say that I limited to whom and how often I passed notes to others from there on out.