The sun will come out.

Sometimes I have to go to Los Angeles for work. And when I say I go to LA, I am not referring to affluent neighborhoods like Bel Aire. I am not rocking Beverly Hills or Santa Monica. I am not cruising Rodeo Drive or running into celebrities at restaurants. I am hanging out on Crenshaw and Martin Luther King Blvd. My wonderful boyfriend frequently asks where it is that I am headed so that he can mentally assess the area and the amount of caution he wants to advise while determining the amount of worry he will apply to my absence. His mother will scold him for allowing me to go alone, as if it is possible for him to accompany me. A co-worker will often give me directions to where I am going to avoid certain streets. She comments, "It is okay... you will feel safe there." Comforting. My lovely father who worked in South Central Los Angeles for decades has given me the advice to just leave before it gets dark (which will be a lot more difficult with this time change.)

Image found here

I am never worried about my safety when I am doing these client visits. I am aware of my surroundings, without looking around too much. I know that I can stand my ground and that I am not one to freeze. I know that I can think clearly in chaotic and crisis situations. Ain't no thang. I got that. What I am worried about is how long I am going to have to sit in traffic after I am done with the visits. School gets out around 3ish... I need to be gone by dark... I have a 2 hour window that puts me back on the freeway at the worst time for traffic ever. (Let's be honest, the traffic starts at like 3pm and it doesn't matter what day it is. Sometimes it blows my mind that there can be that many people headed in the same direction. So weird.)

And I am finally to my optimistic point... I have to go to LA, which is not convenient in the least. But when I am sitting in traffic and I start to get irritated that it has taken me 10 minutes to go 1 mile, I open my sunroof. I roll down my window. I smile because it is November and I am still wearing a tank top and sandals. I smile as I gladly accept sitting in traffic. I feel the joy of the sunshine and warmth that I have relished in all day long...and will soak up tomorrow as well. I do not dream of white Christmases. I dream of Christmas barbecue dinners that we eat outside. I dream of anything under 60 degrees being seen as ridiculous (because it is.)

(And there is an excellent chance that the sun is out TODAY! Right now... While you read this. Looking.... yep. Moving back to SoCal was the best decision ever. Yippee!!) 

Runner's High.

I do not get a runner's high. I do not have a surge of endorphins from working out making me feel wonderful. I do not feel better after a workout. I feel tired. I feel sweaty. I feel disgusting. Please stop telling me that I will grow to like exercising. This is not in the stars for me. I just don't like it. My favorite part of any workout routine is the rest days. Telling me that I will love exercising is like telling me that I will one day own a unicorn that poops gold. It would be awesome and amazing and I would love for that to happen. And while anything is possible (I guess) it is not necessarily probable.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/93936708/unicorn-pillow-magical-pooping-unicorn

Yep, I have equated mythical creatures as a companion to the possibility that I will one day enjoy working out. I have had many bouts of time where I have exercised regularly. There have been spans lasting over a year where I went to the gym and I exercised as I "should" 4-5 times a week. Never did I like it. Never did I think, "Damn, I cannot wait to get off work so that I can go join the hamsters on a wheel at the gym." (Gyms actually kind of creep me out, which is an entirely different topic.)

I have many friends who love to exercise. They revolve their lives around it. Some have based their careers on it! (No thank you.) While they are crazy, they are also amazing and have given me so much free advice I hope they never add up how much I could owe them. Sometimes I think the only thing my friends and I have in common is that we think the same immature stuff is hilarious. (Also, a different topic on its own... and quite possibly a future post...I am chalk full of good ideas! BOOM!)

Saved By The Bell: Jesse & The Sundaes from Good Kids. on Vimeo.

What I DO enjoy... I DO love to feel healthy. I love to feel strong. I love to try on clothes at a store and have everything fit and look good as I try to narrow down my choices. I like that when I reach the top of the stairs I am not out of breath. I like that the boyfriend is proud of me for working hard even when it is not what I really want to be doing. I love that my endurance is higher. I love that if for some reason I randomly have to run a mile... in the rain...in a rain forest in India... to catch a boat tour that I don't really want to go on... wearing slip on Vans... that I can do that jog without the fear that I am going to die of exhaustion afterwards.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0075148/?ref_=nv_sr_2

So while I do not, and am pessimistic that I ever will, love to exercise, I have come to terms with it. And it is okay. I have weighed the pros and cons and I have decided that regular exercise, even if torturous in the moment, is beneficial to me in the long run for the long term effects. (I think I have been clear that the short term effects are just hatred and nastiness, yes?)

 Image found here

So no more trying to convince me to love working out. I will get my cardio in. I will lift weights. I will hate it in the moment while loving how it effects my LIFE. It is kinda like making my bed in the morning. I just do it even if I am in a hurry and late. I make my bed because I know it makes my life feel more organized and helps me keep everything orderly. I am never going to LOVE making my bed. I am never going to pull those sheets up, place those pillows on the bed, and anticipate my bed making high from rushing endorphins... no... I am going to make my bed because it is just what I do to avoid a trickle effect of clutter. I will exercise to avoid the trickle effect of physical weakness and morbid obesity.

    

 Image found here    

          

And that folks... is all I have to say about that...for now. 

Refresh.

Hey there my beautiful people. How are you feeling? It has been nearly a YEAR since I last wrote. My life is incredibly different in amazing, wonderful, thoughtful, surprising, and profound ways. A year... I can't believe it has been a year since I have written something for myself. It has been that long since I have recorded something from my own perspective. Too long since I have composed anything that has pure interest for me. A ridiculous amount of time since I have authored for the sole reason of joy.

(Deeeeeeeep Breath....)

That is way too long. In some ways I have been "busy" with incredible new events and people (ahem, person) in my life. And in many ways I spend so much non-creative boring time on the computer for my job, that I just want to close up shop before I murder myself.

Here is an example of the soul-sucking note writing I am required to do:

CFS attempted to lead client in role plays of being triggered by hearing no as a response to assist ct in the development of his relaxation techniques and coping skills. Client followed CFS in the participation of role plays where he is triggered by the word no and uses a coping skill rather than acting out to aid in his deescalation.

HOURS AND HOURS OF THIS BORING INPUT FOR NOTE AFTER NOTE... did you almost fall asleep reading it? Because I zoned out a little while I typed it.

While I input this unimaginative form of information and communication into the electronic database, my creativity fights as the bureaucracy sucks it's will to live.

My right brain is pushing back. I find my supervisors and coworkers commenting about loving to receive my emails because of the quips and anecdotes I mix in with the regurgitation of information. I have been helping my sister with the copy for her website (I would link to her if it was complete... but she is not yet ready to reveal her new self.) I have been doing more reading. All of this has helped me to remember that I love to write. It is an aspect of life that brings me fulfillment. 

I am back people. 

http://twistedsifter.com/2012/03/15-famous-quotes-on-creativity/

I can handle it.

I would say that I have a healthy self-esteem. I believe I am a good person. I have qualities that can be helpful to people and to this world. I also get that I am not special (or everyone is special.)

Sometimes my friends give me constructive criticism... uninvited, unbridled, "constructive" criticisms... And sometimes from said comments (i.e. "The background of your blog is ugly") comes change. And sometimes I just smile, shake my head, and laugh.

P.S. There are only so many backgrounds to choose from and most of them are sub-par... however, they are free. 

It was a rough day.

The day started with none of my clothes being comfortable and a general feeling of grossness. Don't act like you don't know what I am talking about... because you totally do. Then there was some other junk that shook up the day and darkened my usual cheerful mood, but nothing dramatic or cause for mention in a public arena. 

It was the afternoon, the time of day when I usually move my car from one lot to another. It is also an excellent time to get a Diet Coke. By the time I got to my car I saw that I only had 5 minutes until I needed to be at a meeting. This was not enough time to go to the McDonald's drive-thru as I had planned. (Side note: McDonald's has THE best Diet Coke hands down... and then it is only $1 for a large? Forget about it!!) Anywho... There is a liquor store a couple of blocks away from where I was and I had purchased a beverage there a few times before. I decided I would hit that up real quick like and then head to my meeting. 

This is NOT the actual liquor store from the story.

I parked in front of a liquor store near my work. I got out of my car and I could hear some crazies hollering at me from across the street at the bus stop. I ignored this. Ain't no thang... I glanced up to see 2 men outside of the store standing near/behind the propped door. I went inside. I grabbed a bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper. (If I am forced to buy bottles, then I go for the Diet Dr. Pepper variety rather than Diet Coke... not important to the story, but totally important to my life.) I went to the cashier to pay for my item.There was another customer talking to the Asian store clerk. This customer had walked in behind me. He was missing several teeth and I feel like it impaired his speech. He was an African American bloke that was so ridiculous it was as if he was acting. He was almost yelling, "Chico! There are people loitering outside your store. Chico! You can't let people do that you are going to lose customers. CHICO!" The Asian man acted super sketched out and just ignored his comments. He would glance at him every once in awhile but never responded verbally. I kept thinking, "Is this guy's name actually Chico? Because that would be kind of epic." 

The other customer stopped yelling at the clerk and got really quiet. He turned to look at me and said in a low voice, "How are you doing?" I got my change and quickly replied, "I'm well." I turned and walked towards the exit. The loitering men that I saw when I arrived had tripled in size. There were now 6 dudes and they were standing right in front of the store door blocking my only exit. I walked straight through them as I clearly stated, "Excuse me." They were being very intrusive and began surrounding me making sexual comments. I felt as if they were trying to intimidate me. I continued to just say "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me" as I walked through them, away from them, and towards my car. Their stupid comments continuing throughout. 

I wish these were the folks loitering. 

THEN the man from inside the store followed my ass. He was shouting out, "Are you really from Utah? I was supposed to go to Utah State but I got injured. Really? You are from Utah? I live on Casitas. Where do you live?" He saw my Utah license plate. I was just walking and kind of nodding. Then he said, "This liquor store isn't usually this bad, but you should probably go somewhere else." During all of this, the bus stop crazies were cat calling from across the street. They were harder to ignore with all of the other happenings going on at the same time. I got to my car after a very short walk that felt a mile long, I started her up, and I drove away with a sigh of relief to move on with my life. I thought, "Well... I won't be going to THAT place ever again." 

I didn't actually do this, but I may as well have "talk to the handed" him.

But the saga is not over because the lovely gentleman who had followed me out of the store continued his pursuit in his car! I didn't notice him behind me until I had stopped at a stop sign. I looked in my rear view mirror to see a car pass on my left and then stop beside me. Sure enough, it was the man from the store. He had his passenger side window rolled down. I shook my head. He yelled, "Do you have a boyfriend!?" To which I nodded and said "Yes." (I guess this is the only logical reason I would reject him...? I would have told him I was a man with several STD's if I thought it would shake him.) 

As I drove, I thought about how that whole situation resembled the opening of a Law and Order SVU episode, complete with Asian store owner and loitering men. Which reminded me of a past blog post where I relayed some concerns about peeps being all up in my business on the off chance I went missing. Since that post I have struck a deal with my cousin that he will erase certain accounts if I die. But I haven't even given him my passwords yet!! 

I headed to my place of employment and attended my meeting (remarkably, on time.) After the meeting, I text messaged a friend and fellow coworker telling him briefly about the situation. I was quickly reprimanded for thinking it was a good idea to go into that store. I have now been given a run down of the places I am and am not allowed to go. If I want Diet Coke... it is strongly recommended that I head to the neighboring city for such a beverage. (Don't fret... there is a McDonald's in said area.) 

Diet Coke is important. 

Much later, I thought about the incident while out of my dissociative state of coping. I ran through the entire scene in my head. This is when I realized that the situation was actually quite terrifying. I strongly believe that that creeper following me, while was super irritating and ridiculous, helped me shake those other loitering men. I was happy and relieved to be in a completely different environment in that moment of contemplation. I was in a place where I felt totally and completely safe. And I may or may not have cried in my relief... it was a long day, ok? So back off! 

I am definitely not a cute crier.

I feel blessed this this whole scene went down as it did. That could have been bad. One of my best friends has offered me the use of her 9mm gun. I just have to give the nod... 

No offense, but I'm not offended.

My sister took her youngest, Brando, to the doctor. She was speaking with one of the nurses about Brando and his relationship with the older 3 kids (ages 4.5, 4.5, and 3.) She explained that Brando does little tricks like jumping in the air and landing on his booty (even on the tile) and then all the kids laugh and laugh and laugh. And then Brando repeats, and everyone laughs and laughs again.

(Isn't he so cute you can hardly stand it?!)

She told the nurse that when Brando gets up from his nap and enters the room, the older three children cheer, "YAY!! Brando!!" She then proceeded to comment to the nurse, "I think he will be like my little sister [that's me] and be 30 years old before he realizes that everyone doesn't cheer when he walks into the room."

First of all... I am confused, people always cheer when I walk into the room, it happened 5 minutes after she relayed this story to me... Secondly, in all seriousness, I really was 16 years old before I realized that there could possibly be a person who didn't like me. I knew there were people who didn't care about me. But to NOT like me... and to go out of their way to make it known... this was foreign and disconcerting.

As I have gotten older and wiser I have come to realize some things about myself. I have always known that I laughed more than the average person. I have always known that I am more entertained by life than many of my fellow human beings. And as I have grown in maturity, here is what I believe has occurred:

There is NO way that I went through all of elementary and middle school without being made fun of... is this even humanly possible? A better possibility is that I didn't notice that I was being mocked. I am thinking that maybe some unsuspecting bully teased me or made fun of me and I just laughed, said, "Totally!" Possibly added on to their put down... Then I walk away, face hurting from smiling, wiping away tears from the laughter, and the bully standing their like, "What the F*** just happened?"

I went YEARS not realizing that close family/friends were labeled as "Moody"... I just thought they were kidding.

(Ane... my other half in the winning to every "Cutest Couple" contest EVER.)

And that brings us to the present. I still think that most people like me... come on, I am a likable gal. I am still super entertained by life and am not easily angered or offended. I have made a short list that is by no means comprehensive, and in no particular order, of events in my adult life that I maybe SHOULD have been offended by... but really I just thought were funny and therefore just smiled, shook my head, and laughed.

Things I Should Have Maybe Taken Some Offense To

My father suggesting I become a hooker. Because then I would have something to do AND have benjamins.

When leaving my cousin's place he says, "Go be a bitch some place else."

A complete stranger asking if he can motorboat me.

When trying to help out a friend and offering viable options, he responded to my kindness by sarcastically saying, "Wow. You should work for NASA."

Man sitting next to me on a flight proposes that he and I develop a "Friends with Benefits" type of relationship (but don't worry, he hopes we fall in love at the end of it.)

My co-worker informing me he had a sex dream about me. Oh... and then telling me he has a second dream as well. 

My strengths were described as the following: 1. Blonde Hair 2. Big Boobs

When talking to my mother about a certain gentlemen, I told her that I thought he was fantastic. To which she quickly replied in a skeptical manner, "Well.... does he think YOU are fantastic?!"

A man at a bar, who worked for the same agency as I, introduced himself as "Delicious" and then requested that I take my shirt off.

A co-worker measured all of the females mouths to see who's was biggest.

I was told by a male friend that it wasn't the conversation that was boring him... it was my face.

Being called "Easy Like Sunday Morning" (most frequently by family members.)

A bluntly honest friend leaving me a voicemail that says, "I'd be more than happy to tell you some things that are wrong with you... because I can think of A LOT."

A friend decided to come up with nicknames for another friend and I. He quickly named my other friend "Mystique". After an entire day of thinking of a nickname for yours truly, all he would come up with was, "Pam Beasly" which was another way of calling me completely average in every way. Even he knew it sucked.

Men that I either don't know or barely know offering to send me photos of their manliness. (Sorry, no link to photos... creepers.) 

A co-worker trying to comfort a teenage girl by saying that "Jaime and [friend/coworker] don't seem to have problems with getting men at their size."

Nicknames like "Jaime Marie easy as 1 2 3"

My co-worker, after 5 months of employment together, could not remember my name. And he acted dumbfounded by his lack of memory because, "She's even white!"

The same co-worker thought that instead of calling me Jaime, he would just refer to me as "Sexy Chocolate" (I respectfully declined his offer.)

My friend's supervisor saying to me, "Jaime... your boobs are lookin' tasty..." (this one did shock me... but I still just laughed.)

On my 2nd day at the new job, a co-worker who was showing me the ropes predicted my "number" to be somewhere around 20-30.

Being accidentally given compliments by a member of the opposite sex that I would really like to get compliments from and when I say, "Thank you" he realizes his mistake and quickly retracts them.

Having numerous people call me names like slut, whore, skank, etc.

As I was compiling this list (and I did have to solicit help from a friend, because I often don't even realize that I should have felt some sort of displease from situations or comments) I recalled  a  poem I heard long ago...

The first time I asked her to dance, / she just smiled and nodded her head and giggled. / And when I asked her to be my wife, / she just smiled and nodded her head and giggled. / When I asked her how many children she wanted to have, / she just smiled and nodded her head and giggled. / That's when I realized -- she's retarded.    -Jeffrey Ross

First it made me laugh... then it made me wonder if there may be something wrong with me... but even if there is something clinically wrong with me, it's all good because I am happy and I enjoy my life as it is. Boom. 

Yeah Boyeeee.

It was my birthday in August... yeah... I am a Leo... and yeah... I AM bossy... and yeah... I am awesome... and yeah... I let my wild mane fly free... but that is beside the point. My birthday was fantastic for so many reasons. Good times with good people.

I will write all about my birthday in more detail later. It has taken me so long to get anything posted about my fabulous dirty 30 because it was so epic. I need the time and attention span to sit down and give it the attention that it deserves. But I decided that it was time to, at least, give a preview. So here is a preview to what was the best birthday ever... until next year's...

Yeah... I was pretty excited...

I love how he says that he can't let her video him. Amazing.

More details to come... and the details are goooooooood....

Pickup strategies.

There are two men, who undoubtedly have a routine they have conjured up where one is the pursuer, the other the wingman. Their tactic? Talk about the approached woman as if she isn't there. I do not recommend this strategy. Unless your goal is for me to have no respect for you... then rock on.

One man walks over to me, offers to get me a drink, and begins a conversation. About 2 minutes later, the the other man approaches.

Guy 2: "Hey, she is really beautiful, man."

Guy 1: "Yeah yeah.... the kind of girl who knows she is fine."

Guy 2: "So how long have you guys been dating?"

Guy 1: "Whoa whoa whoa! We just met! We are not dating!!"

Guy 2: "Oh, sorry man. The way you guys were talking... it just seemed like you have been dating for a while."

Jaime: (laugh) "No no... definitely NOT dating..."

Guy 2: (Turns back to Guy 1) "Wow. That hair. I mean, that hair makes me think she might be crazy."

Guy 1: "The hair? Have you looked at those blue eyes? There is something behind those blue eyes. I am not sure what it is."

(This is when I take my cell phone out and begin emailing someone I would rather be talking to than either of these tools. I wasn't listening to what they were saying. When I brought my attention back to them, they were still trying to decide what was behind my eyes.)

Jaime: "Is it scandal? Because I have been told scandal resides behind these eyes."

Guys: "No, no.... it isn't scandal..."

Jaime: "What about mischief? I have heard mischief. I have also heard that I am just happy. But I think it may be that I just don't give a shit about any of this."

Guys: (not phased by my saying that I do not care) "No... its not any of those things."

Guy 1: (Turns back to Guy 2) "I can't quite figure it out. But I can tell you that what she has behind those eyes scares me and it makes me nervous."

(This is when I laugh and lose interest. I walk away, because I don't want to be rude and interrupt the quality conversation they are engaged in.)

http://www.ephemera-inc.com/

Men, this may work on some girls. And my guess is that these women are insecure, not very smart, or possibly super super bored. (It's okay ladies... sometimes we get bored... and sometimes we make mistakes in this boredom... I support you and I love you.) I can guarantee this never works because it is a smooth strategy to woo a lady. You know your tactic sucks when I can't even tell who is the one hitting on me and who is the wingman. And you really know your methods aren't working when I am hopping off of my stool, walking away from you, and I am not sure how long it took you to notice.

(Later I talked to the person that I had emailed during this debacle of a pickup. I told him portions of the story. He agreed that there was, indeed, something behind me eyes... my brain. Now THERE is a smart compliment.)

Dude has a girlfriend.

Dudes with girlfriends LOVE me. I don't even know where to begin with this post...

This pattern began about a decade ago. I had no idea what was starting that first time I was lied to about the existence of a significant other. I had no clue what had begun the first time it was commented that I held some sort of accidental power over a man. That first time was confusing and kind of painful. (That's what she said.)

Since that initial girlfriend incident there have been several times that I have found out that the man pursuing me is a man that is spoken for. It happens to me so often, I can only assume that there are many occasions in which the dude hitting on me had a girlfriend and I did not find out about it. It happens so frequently that I think I can go ahead and begin to assume that if a man is hitting on me, he most likely has a girlfriend. The odds are in favor of me being the other woman.

I will attempt to explain how the debacles usually go down.

Boy meets girl. Girl decides she will grace boy with her presence and attention. Boy is grateful. Boy comments that there is "something about" the girl. Boy says to girl, "You have a power over me." Boy talks of vague things like magic and not being able to help himself. Girl asks for clarifications. Boy gives more vague statements.

Then one or more of the following happens:

Girl sees boy with another girl.

Girl meets another girl.

Girl sees Facebook posts written by another girl that sound like things boy says to her or sounds like things only a girlfriend would feel comfortable posting on FB.

Girl is a honey badger and immediately asks boy, with a smile on her face and in no way confrontational, "Do you have a girlfriend?" Boy always says no. Girl asks about certain other girl in question. Boy continues to deny the existence of a girlfriend. (Now I have gotten smarter with all of my experience and I have learned that it is all in how the question is asked. Now after I am told, "No I don't have a girlfriend!" And given the, 'Bitch, you be crazy' look-- I have a follow up question other then, "Ya sure?") Girl now asks, "Is there a girl in this world who thinks she is your girlfriend?" For some reason this question is usually answered honestly... I don't understand it... but it works.

As it would turn out, my scandal draws in these assholes. The question is, Why? What is it that I put out there that says, "If you have a girlfriend you should definitely hit on me." I have asked the actual dudes this question... but I just get the "you have this glow" and "there is something about you" bull shit fed to me. My theory on why they give this as a reason is that it removes blame from themselves and puts it on me... just one girl's opinion.

I have asked several friends their ideas on why this happens to me so often. I usually get a lot of compliments in their response, which is awesome because I love compliments. But I don't really see how these things would specifically attract those guys that are supposedly spoken for.

Here are 3 possible theories that are not mutually exclusive:

1. I laugh at their jokes that their girlfriends don't laugh at anymore.

2. I accidentally attract what I can't have because then I don't have to do anything about it.

3. "You are just cool hotness" (this is the one phrase I chose to use in lieu of all the complimentary theories that my friends gave to me. I felt these 5 words summed up the collective conversations.)

I am completely open to alternate theories. I am open to ideas on how to alter what I am putting out there (other then my T&A... I will not stop putting that out there...)

There is that part of me that feels bad for the girlfriends. But then sometimes the girlfriend finds out about me and still ends up marrying the dude... kinda hard to have sympathy for that. I am self centered enough to think that when they are telling their "Love Story" I am the harlot that nearly broke them up.

He is perfect in every way.

It has been nearly a decade since a few of my friends and family and I began playing, "He/She is perfect in ever way but..." It was New Year's Eve and we were in Salt Lake City walking the snowy streets. The older brother kicked it off when he asked my friend and I, "Ok... he is perfect in every way but he only wears a tuxedo." We had some clarifying questions, of course. He CAN take the tuxedo off, he just chooses not to. He wears it everywhere. He wears it to school, to work, to workout, to swim. He always wears a tuxedo. Also, it needed to be clarified that he has various tuxedos so he is fresh and clean and not a smelly, nasty debacle. Baugh and I both agreed that if he was perfect in every way but only wore a tuxedo, we would still be all in. As I asked questions, I was having trouble finding the downside, really. For me, his wearing a tuxedo made him all the more amazing...

There were actually quite a few scenarios that I was presented with where my response was, "I do not see the downside."

After this question was posed for the first time, we became slightly obsessed with seeing what were deal breakers and what were not. The qualifying questions are always really entertaining to me, but also serious business. There have been dozens of situations presented, but I have a favorite that stands out in my mind above all others. My friend asked my cousin, "She is perfect in every way but she thinks that Bruce Lee could totally take Chuck Norris." This turned into a Bruce Lee vs. Chuck Norris debate that was epic.

It is years later and we will still call/text/email each other and say, "He/She is perfect in every way but..." This game actually made me realize that there are a lot things that I would be totally ok with if all other conditions were positive. But I think if he smelled like soup, I would be out.

Below are some of the various ideas I have been presented with and my answers. Remember, I asked questions and made very educated and informed decisions. This is serious business.

He is perfect in every way but...

he only wears a tuxedo.

(Yes.)

he chooses to walk backwards and only backwards.

(Yes.)

he is homeless.

(Yes.)

he sleeps in a coffin.

(Can't do it.)

he is a douche bag.

(Nope.)

he is a white guy but speaks with a fake Indian accent.

(Yes.)

he only communicates with you through song when you are alone.

(YES!)

he wears an eye patch even though his eyes are fine.

(So, perfect in EVERY way. Yes please.)

he sells Mary Kay, not ironically...and drives the pink car.

(I'm out.)

he updates his FB status describing every moment you have together, but only non-sexual moments... make outs are fair game though.

(No thank you.)

he only asks you out by text message and calls you dude.

(An extremely hesitant Yes... to the texting... I don't care if I am called dude.)

he wears a Groucho mustache and glasses while making love--i.e. you never ever have sex without his wearing it.

(After much internal debate, Yes. If he is perfect in every way he will still be attractive with said props.)

he shimmies every where he goes.

(This is straight out of my dreams. Hells yes! I love a good shimmy.)

he doesn't laugh when he thinks something is funny, he cries.

(I like to laugh way too much. No.)

he ends his sentences with "over" like he is talking on a walkie talkie. And he won't hear what

you say if he hasn't said "over" because it is like he is still pressing the talk button.

(Boom. I'm in. Over.)

he informs you that his favorite movie is Crossroads.

(No freaking way.)

It really is good times. Every once in awhile I hear of someone being enlightened about this game... and then they throw out something serious... and that is just awkward. Come on people, lets not kill the game with something like, "He is perfect in every way but he is a different religion from you." BOOOOORING. A better one would be "He is perfect in every way but he refers to all of his shoes as Jesus Sandals" (I would totally be in on this one, by the way.)

Friends are super fly.

I love getting advice from this friend. She never disappoints.

"Then let the eye screwing begin and reap the benefits... The last time I got eye screwed was by a guy in a wheelchair at Costco and there were no benefits... So cash in for all of us that got nothin' from the eye screwing..."

Insults should be written in sand (and on blogs).

I am pretty sure that I am a likable person. I had no idea that there was a person in this world that didn't like me until I was 16 years old. Don't get me wrong, I knew there were people who didn't care about me. They didn't like me, but they didn't dislike me. I was pretty confident, however, that if they got to know me, they would, indeed, like me. I do not mean that I am so wonderful that everyone loves me. (Even though I am pretty wonderful.) What I am trying to convey is that I make effort to be a good person, and to be considerate. I want to understand people and I enjoy hearing their stories. I laugh at people's jokes and I know I am a great audience member. I am not fake and will state how I am feeling and what I am thinking if it is appropriate to do so. I am diplomatic in my responses. I believe most people respect that I am genuine in my actions and as a result, they like me. Plus, I am a bad ass mo fo.

Totally hard core.

You know how people are teased when they are younger? Elementary and Middle School are notoriously rough for bullying, teasing, and name calling. Yeah, I didn't get any of that. You know how people are harassed and mocked by older siblings? Yeah, I didn't get much of that either. They were always super cool to me and let me hang with them and their friends.

This is me with my older sister, Ashlee.

And this is me with the older brother, Robert.

They still let me hang out with them

I will admit that there is a strong possibility that people did say mean things to me... and that I laughed thinking they were joking. I realize this now due to increased self realization. I am older and wiser. I am more observant of my past and present worlds. I now see that when people say rude things to me, I do laugh.

A specific event made this trait more clear now than ever before. The other day, I was having a conversation with a certain gentlemen. I am undramatically calling it, "Literally the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me." This title is preceded by and ended with laughter. The comment he made was not intended as a joke. It was only after my reaction that he realized telling me that he will not be sad when I die is considered, by the vast majority, to be an insult.

I was trying and trying to think of mean things that have been said to me in the past to compare this to. Being as I think everyone likes me, I did have to solicit help from friends who thought of some quips that I had long forgotten. (Do you see how optimistic and forgiving I am?)

• "Bitch." A kid at work called me this after I caught him in a lie. He said he was sorry about 5 minutes later. He came back to the facility THREE times to say hello, apologize to me, and assure me that he did not actually think I was a bitch.

• "Jaime keeps giving me so much F*cking attitude." Also said by a kid at work who did not get her way. And I thought it was really, really funny. We celebrated the day she turned 18 years old.

• "A friend of mine and I agree that you have told yourself and everyone else so many times that you're the most popular person in school, that you're starting to believe it. Your head has gotten too big for your body. Please deflate it as soon as possible." Have you ever had to break up with a friend? This was an email I got after I had to do such a thing. We just couldn't handle the drama she was bringing to the table. She also accused us of being a cult... which was awesome.

• "Maybe you should go buy some more feminine clothes." Said by my mother. Based on my reaction she followed it up by asking, "Why is everything I say an insult?" To which the older brother responded, "I don't know mom...why is it?"

• "Don't be such an idiot." My dad said this to me when I was 15 years old. I probably was being an idiot. I told him that I liked his positive parenting style... I am such a smart ass.

• My cousin frequently calls me a bitch and tells me to shut up. I am pretty sure he is kidding though.

• "You seriously aren't married yet?! What is wrong?!" There is one particular person who is consistently disgusted that I am not married. He comments about my singleness with a pure condescension that has been unmatched by any other. Hilarious.

And now, here I am. 30 years old. Just doing my best to be a good person. I am conversing with someone who, I thought cared... even if it was only a little bit. And BOOM! It is out there. He would definitely not be sad if I died. I didn't ask. I wasn't fishing for anything. He was not trying to be funny. He just spit it out there like he was saying hello or telling me the time. I was shocked. I had my "I am super shocked but it is kind of funny" face on. I proceeded to inform him that his comment was, perhaps, the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me. He didn't even apologize or try to take it back or anything. Totes rude to the max, right? I guess I need to respect the honesty, at least.

I too am once, twice, three times a lady.

He expressed some worry that I would relay our conversation to others. He had concern that I may not tell the whole story. Or, perhaps, that I would use his comment out of context... Now does that sound like something I would do...?

The girl with the orange sunglasses.

When I first moved back to So Cal, I went to this gas station near my house. The worker inside the store said, "I like your shades." I turned around and looked at the guy behind me because I didn't think he was talking to me... not so good with the eye contact... He laughed awkwardly and said, "No. No. You. I like your sunglasses." I said, "Thank you" because I am totes polite to the max, and I went on my merry way.

Since this particular gas station has fountain drinks for $1, it has become a favorite place to purchase my drug of choice, Diet Coke. It takes a close second to McDonald's where they have the BEST Diet Coke ever. It is so delicious. I do not know what they do to it... but I hope they never stop.

I like cold beverage

Over the next few weeks when I went inside the convenience store he would comment, "The girl with the shades." Or something in the like. I would say hello, ask how he was. And that was all.

One day I came out of the store and he was parked, sitting in his car. He yelled, "Hey!" Getting my attention. I said, "Hey there... sweet ride." Because he was clearly very proud of his mode of transportation. It seemed really awkward and contrived, but whatever.

This is pretty much EXACTLY what it looked like...

Over the months I have seen him here and there and we have had polite, superficial, meaningless conversation. "Hello. How are you? Weekends off are good." Lame, pointless stuff like that.

Which brings us to today... Today I went into the store to purchase a delicious Diet Coke. I mixed a small amount of Diet Dr. Pepper in it because it kind of tastes like Ironport (I'm anemic.) Today I asked how he was doing. "Well, other than being hungover, I am good." I started talking about how Thursdays are a prime night to go out and do things. He agreed. He told me that he likes to start his weekends on Thursday and sleep it off on Sunday. I told him that I was recently in San Francisco (good times, by the way.) I mentioned that we were out on Sunday and there was a lot going on. Chocolate festivals, Autumn Moon Festival, live music in the streets. He commented about San Fran always having stuff going on. He mentioned that he really liked it there. I thought, "This is the most interesting conversation we have had to date." He must of thought so too because he took this as a green light to have the most "interesting" conversation we have had.

My instructions for this picture were "broken body"

He began talking about one of the reasons he likes going to San Francisco. There are a lot of gay people. I said, "Yeah, that's true. There are." I continued, "I am sure people thought my sister and I were a lesbian couple because we had her baby with us. I caught tourists filming us a few times." This quickly turned into comments of women making out with one another and how much he enjoys this. Then he spoke of his love for hot lesbians and watching them... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand the creepiness comes out...

How did I respond? I laughed of course.

People thought we were the cutest modern family.

Ashlee, Brando, and I

I am not sure how we turned to this topic so quickly. I am not sure why he felt a need to share this information. I mean, I could have guessed... it did not need to be spelled out to me. Who will I never be going to San Fran with? You guessed it, "The Asian Guy at the Mobil Station." (Yeah, no idea what his name is.)

Friends are dirty.

I read this text out of context and it made me laugh.

"It's dirty and you can hardly tell anyway."

It reminded me of Uncle Jerry. Good ol' Uncle Jerry.

You need to chill the eff out.

Some people (ahem...you know who you are) need to calm down and realize that I have other things to do other than write on this blog...

On that note... I have a story of some other people who needed to chill eff out. This tale happened when I was a wee girl of only 10 years old. And thus begins the development of my street cred.

My next door neighbor's daughter came and stayed with him every other weekend. She and I would hang out on those weekends. And while she was 4 years older than me, for some reason everyone still thought this seemed like a good idea. And while, in retrospect, it is SO clear that she was a gang member, everyone still thought this seemed like a good idea. And while her life was a TOTAL train wreck, everyone STILL thought this seemed like a good idea. I would like to point out that this was a horrible idea...

One weekend my "friend" had her friend (also known as her fellow gang member) come stay at her dad's with her. We were dropped off at the Super Savor Cinema in Rossmoor...maybe it is in Seal Beach... I am not sure... this detail is not relevant. It is relevant to say that it was in no way considered a "bad part of town" or what I frequently refer to as "ghetto". We were going to see Curly Sue. We arrived too late for the current showing and decided we would go to the next one. To kill time we headed on over to Thrifty for some ice cream. While waiting in line, a group of girls walked by us and bumped the shoulder of my friend's friend. Her response was, obviously, "Watch it bitch." This was accompanied by some serious mad dogging.

I don't think that I even got any damn ice cream because the next thing I remember is that these girls are in our faces demanding to know where we are from. The 2 girls I was with are saying really classy things like, "It's none of your f*cking business." I could feel the situation escalating and had no idea what to do. The strangers then started demanding to know how old we were. Now, I knew that I was much younger than all parties involved. But I also knew that i did not LOOK much younger than them. When I was 10 I was often mistaken for much older. So while the tough girls refused to answer any questions, I said very firmly and loudly, "I am ten. I am TEN years old." I am sure that the message I conveyed with my tone was, "I am only 10 years old, please do not kick my ass." Because that is what I was feeling.

Some of the details are hazy... but I do know that there were more of them than us. (Especially when we all know I was not even part of that "us".) I also remember the moment that it was decided that shit was about to get real. Two chicks, the shoulder bumper and the shoulder bumpee, were about to brawl it out. The agreed upon instructions were that it was between these 2 girls and no one else was going to jump in. Gotta have rules...even on the streets...

The obvious place for 2 teenage girls to fight is in the middle of a parking lot where cars are trying to drive. The obvious thing for girls to do when fighting is always to pull each other's clothes off. So here are 2 teen girls, scratching and slapping one another in a full out stereotypical cat fight. Cars flashing their lights and honking at them. My friend's home girl must have been losing, because my friend decided she needed to jump in there. She turned to me and said, "Hold my purse." I declined. She shoved her purse into my chest and said, "Hold my purse!" I declined again. She yelled, "BITCH!" This is when I decided to bail.

I am not quite sure why it took me so long to decide to leave. But I guess when your "friend" calls you a bitch because you don't want to help her beat the shit out of some people, this is when it is kosher to get the hell out. I went and found a pay phone and called the parentals. As I hung up the phone with my pa, I saw the group of stranger girls rounding the corner and coming towards me. I just sat right where I was as they approached me. I don't remember feeling scared or anything. I just remember thinking that I wasn't moving from that spot until my parents came.

This group of girls, who obviously won the fight, apologized to me. They told me that they were really sorry that I witnessed the whole scene. They told me that they felt bad that I had any part of it. They asked if they could wait there with me until my parents came and picked me up. WHAT?!?! But that is exactly what they did. As soon as I commented that I could see my parents car, they took off.

Later that evening, the "friend" knocked on my door. She apologized to me with the most insincere apology I have ever heard (and I worked Juvenile Justice Services, so this is quite the honor.) She gave my parents a similar apology. And then...I never saw her again... It was like she never existed and none of it ever happened. It wasn't talked about. She wasn't talked about. It was just over.

Now that I have developed more street cred... I totes understand that, "Damn it feels good to be a gangsta."

(WARNING: there are some "F-words" in this soundtrack...

so don't watch it you don't want to hear.)