Yah, I said it. Freakazoid. It's my sister's word. It always makes me giggle. There's a lot about my sister and I that make me giggle. I'm the younger sister so that means that I'm the annoying one. The memories we share are about 30/70. 30% being typical sister-hating stuff but 70% being things that I laugh at to this day. Yah, I love my sister.
Anywho! This Friday is definitely for freakazoids. My husband had a dental appointment at 9am. My kids were on slow motion speed and I have been running around like an idiot doing nothing at all.
::Collective Sigh:: It's 9am. You'd think I was relaxing by now but nope. My husband has called me a total of 5 times in the last 15 minutes because the office is closed. Both my kids have called also to inform me that I forgot to pack their homework folder or give them money. Um, why is it my fault that the office is closed, their homework wasn't put in their backpack and I forgot to run around like a human ATM machine throwing money around? All I can say is if the bank account hadn't informed me that we got paid today, I'd be a pretty pissed off woman right now. But I'm not. ::evil grin::
You see, I plan on being anything BUT pissy this weekend. I'm fully aware that my high expectation is probably going to lead to disappointment but I'm ready for it. Tomorrow is the banquet. It's like Prom for adults. Last year I sat at the table with some friends while my husband did the Honor Guard colors for over 2 hours. Yah, fun, fun, fun. This year, he isn't doing the Honor Guard colors. That guarantees that I won't be dateless and desperate for 2 hours. Last year some girl kept flirting with my husband and informing me of how my husband sexually harasses her on a daily business. This year, this girl is planning on being an uber bitch if that girl does a repeat performance. Last year my husband got stinkin' drunk and pissed in front of about 10 people. This year that husband's wife may have to kill him if he repeats that too.
So there ya go. I've weighed the pros and cons of my weekend. I've established what went wrong last year and realized that it can't get any worse, right? Right?
Well, Friday is for freakazoids but don't ask who's more of a freakazoid. And I know I'm gonna have one helluva story to tell on Monday. It can go two ways.
1) I hate my husband.
2) I hate my husband but he has his qualities.
I think both ways will envelope some comedy. Here's hoping I don't make an ass of myself!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
2/25/10
Is a personality sellable?
Okay, had my interview today. I haven't interviewed for a job in 10 years and after the interview today....I feel like I've never been interviewed before. Wow! The questions. The answers. The amount of times I looked like I had no idea what to say. Wow!
I think toward 1/4 through the interview, in my head I said, "Screw this!" and just let my personality do the interview. I mean, seriously, if you don't like my personality, you ain't gonna wanna work with me. Here were some of the questions and some of my answers.
Have you ever promised to complete a project and failed to complete the project? How did you handle that situation?
Well sure I've made promises I couldn't keep. It was never through lack of trying though. And I handled it by telling the supervisor I didn't finish it. I'm not the type of person that doesn't own up to her failures.
Do you adapt well to change?
I hate change. It bugs the crap out of me when they try to fix what isn't broken. I go with it though. I learn the new change, master it and wait for them to screw up again to change it all over again. So I guess I do adapt well to change. I hate it.
What was one problem you had at your last employment?
My boss kept hiring idiots to help out and ended up giving me more work because of them.
How did you handle and rectify that problem?
I told my boss to stop hiring idiots or I'd quit.
Did that rectify the situation?
No. I quit a few weeks later.
If an employee was having issues with doing her duties at work, would you help out or inform the supervisor?
I have no problem helping someone learn their job. I'd expect the same if I needed help. And I'm not one to tattle to the supervisor unless that employee is an idiot that supervisor hired.
Why do you want a job to be a pharmacy technician?
Because it's all I've ever done when I earned a paycheck. I'm good at it.
What areas do you think you lack and need to improve on?
Um....nothing? Well, we all have room for improvement but I'm quite perfect actually. And if I'm not performing to your standards, you better tell me. Trust me, I won't have any problem telling you that you aren't. I deserve the same honesty.
So there you have it. My interview. I was kinda nervous at first but then I told that person to go away and the real Jeanie showed up. I'm not at all nervous about somewhat returning to the working world. It's only part time.
And truly, if you play off the phony in your interview....how long can you continue being phony? Will they ever meet the real you? I couldn't imagine being hired for a job that didn't hire the real me. I mean, come on! They have to know what they're getting into, right?
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
I think toward 1/4 through the interview, in my head I said, "Screw this!" and just let my personality do the interview. I mean, seriously, if you don't like my personality, you ain't gonna wanna work with me. Here were some of the questions and some of my answers.
Have you ever promised to complete a project and failed to complete the project? How did you handle that situation?
Well sure I've made promises I couldn't keep. It was never through lack of trying though. And I handled it by telling the supervisor I didn't finish it. I'm not the type of person that doesn't own up to her failures.
Do you adapt well to change?
I hate change. It bugs the crap out of me when they try to fix what isn't broken. I go with it though. I learn the new change, master it and wait for them to screw up again to change it all over again. So I guess I do adapt well to change. I hate it.
What was one problem you had at your last employment?
My boss kept hiring idiots to help out and ended up giving me more work because of them.
How did you handle and rectify that problem?
I told my boss to stop hiring idiots or I'd quit.
Did that rectify the situation?
No. I quit a few weeks later.
If an employee was having issues with doing her duties at work, would you help out or inform the supervisor?
I have no problem helping someone learn their job. I'd expect the same if I needed help. And I'm not one to tattle to the supervisor unless that employee is an idiot that supervisor hired.
Why do you want a job to be a pharmacy technician?
Because it's all I've ever done when I earned a paycheck. I'm good at it.
What areas do you think you lack and need to improve on?
Um....nothing? Well, we all have room for improvement but I'm quite perfect actually. And if I'm not performing to your standards, you better tell me. Trust me, I won't have any problem telling you that you aren't. I deserve the same honesty.
So there you have it. My interview. I was kinda nervous at first but then I told that person to go away and the real Jeanie showed up. I'm not at all nervous about somewhat returning to the working world. It's only part time.
And truly, if you play off the phony in your interview....how long can you continue being phony? Will they ever meet the real you? I couldn't imagine being hired for a job that didn't hire the real me. I mean, come on! They have to know what they're getting into, right?
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
2/24/10
Clueless by being male.
Men are so clueless. Well, that is incorrect. They aren't clueless where they don't realize they've done something....about fifteen minutes too late.
What pray tell had led me to this conclusion? Well, I'm not blind. I'm not stupid. I'm not a man.
I've got about a thousand things to do today to keep my mind off a job interview I have tomorrow so this is going to be a short post. My husband and I are going to a banquet on Saturday. It's an annual thing and every freaking year I have to beg my husband to take me. I mean, come on! I wanna dress up and have some fun dammit! It's like Prom for adults. So I bought a dress yesterday finally. I always wait for the last minute cause 1) I love to buy cheap dresses and boy, was this dress cheap! and 2) I would rather stress for less when it comes to wondering if I'll look alright. So the dress is bought. Megan helped out and loved it. Sound good? Well not so as I still needed my husband's approval.
So here we go. I try it on and here's the convo.
Me: So, what do you think?
Husband: Looks good. (Seriously, this guy is about to be beat. Hello??!! It's strapless and my boobs are practically popping out. "Looks good?")
Me: Do I look like a fat ass? (Yah, I went there)
Husband: No. You look good. How much you wanna bet you'll be the dressiest one there?
Me: Why?
Husband: They changed it to "dress casual" this year. All the wives are pissed cause they wanna dress up.
Me: Well shit! When were you going to inform me of this jacka$$? (Cause seriously, a heads up would've been appreciated)
Husband: What does it matter? You would've dressed up anyway. You look good.
Me: I'm not going for good. I'm going for everyone looking at us and saying, "What the hell is she doing with him?"
Husband: They say that anyway. Your tube tops are famous.
Me: So what are you wearing? (This is where my husband went from clueless to the 15 minute rule of, "Oh shit, how do I save this?")
Husband: With you in that dress? I'm wearing my black suit. I have to at least look like I somewhat belong with you.
Me: Nice save but Ima need more enthusiasm about how hot I look.
Husband: Make me. (He's kidding by the way)
Me: Okay. How about I wear the 4 inch heels and tower over your short ass making you truly look like you paid me to attend this with you. (I'm not kidding by the way)
Husband: How about I just say that you are always the prettiest one at these banquets and you settle with the 2 inch heels?
Me: Deal.
The 4 inch heels hurt my feet anyway.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
What pray tell had led me to this conclusion? Well, I'm not blind. I'm not stupid. I'm not a man.
I've got about a thousand things to do today to keep my mind off a job interview I have tomorrow so this is going to be a short post. My husband and I are going to a banquet on Saturday. It's an annual thing and every freaking year I have to beg my husband to take me. I mean, come on! I wanna dress up and have some fun dammit! It's like Prom for adults. So I bought a dress yesterday finally. I always wait for the last minute cause 1) I love to buy cheap dresses and boy, was this dress cheap! and 2) I would rather stress for less when it comes to wondering if I'll look alright. So the dress is bought. Megan helped out and loved it. Sound good? Well not so as I still needed my husband's approval.
So here we go. I try it on and here's the convo.
Me: So, what do you think?
Husband: Looks good. (Seriously, this guy is about to be beat. Hello??!! It's strapless and my boobs are practically popping out. "Looks good?")
Me: Do I look like a fat ass? (Yah, I went there)
Husband: No. You look good. How much you wanna bet you'll be the dressiest one there?
Me: Why?
Husband: They changed it to "dress casual" this year. All the wives are pissed cause they wanna dress up.
Me: Well shit! When were you going to inform me of this jacka$$? (Cause seriously, a heads up would've been appreciated)
Husband: What does it matter? You would've dressed up anyway. You look good.
Me: I'm not going for good. I'm going for everyone looking at us and saying, "What the hell is she doing with him?"
Husband: They say that anyway. Your tube tops are famous.
Me: So what are you wearing? (This is where my husband went from clueless to the 15 minute rule of, "Oh shit, how do I save this?")
Husband: With you in that dress? I'm wearing my black suit. I have to at least look like I somewhat belong with you.
Me: Nice save but Ima need more enthusiasm about how hot I look.
Husband: Make me. (He's kidding by the way)
Me: Okay. How about I wear the 4 inch heels and tower over your short ass making you truly look like you paid me to attend this with you. (I'm not kidding by the way)
Husband: How about I just say that you are always the prettiest one at these banquets and you settle with the 2 inch heels?
Me: Deal.
The 4 inch heels hurt my feet anyway.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
2/23/10
Tuesday Debauchery
It's Tuesday! Which means it's my carpool day. I love carpool Tuesday. Granted at 6:30am when I have to actually put clothes on....love is not how I would describe it. By 7:10am though...I'm ready to go. Of course, we all expected to wake up and see snow but there was no snow. The weathercaster *said* it was snowing though. Oh weatherman, you truly aren't worth more than a psychic are you?
I had the radio on when I picked the kids up. I don't usually do that but the conversation this morning was pretty funny and I couldn't bring myself to turn it down. Pick up lines. A topic that'll never get old. The consensus with the women that were talking was if you compliment them on something that they haven't heard before, they're more prone to fall for it. Instead of saying, "You are hot!" saying something like, "You have the prettiest neck." might be an improvement. Um....maybe, but I don't think I've met anybody who was smart enough to try it.
The next consensus was if you're a guy, you should always have a wingman. Not a wingman to take the ugly girl but a wingman to apologize for your "douchey" ways.
E: What does "douchey" mean? (He's 12 so why would he know this?)
M (daughter): ::giggle:: (She's 12 so why does she know this?)
Me: What are you giggling at?
M (daughter): E said "douchey" and it sounded funny.
Me: Do you know what "douchey" means? Hmmmmm?
M (daughter): I've heard you use the word before!
Me: E should listen to this. It's good stuff. I know a lot of guys that need to take a lesson on tact and pick-up lines.
M (daughter): I think E has "douchey" down pat mom.
Me: M! Maybe you need to take a lesson on not being such a brat! And I have a feeling you don't really know what "douchey" means so you better watch it.
E: Um...."Douchey" better mean irresistable because I'm not anything BUT irresistable.
Me: Yah....you go with that E. That'll get you tons of women.
E: Well, before we go, I just wanted to tell you that you have the prettiest hands.
Me: See!!! He was listening. Thanks E. That wasn't "douchey" at all!
E: What does "douchey" mean??
Oh, I can't WAIT for the phone call from E's mother today after school.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
I had the radio on when I picked the kids up. I don't usually do that but the conversation this morning was pretty funny and I couldn't bring myself to turn it down. Pick up lines. A topic that'll never get old. The consensus with the women that were talking was if you compliment them on something that they haven't heard before, they're more prone to fall for it. Instead of saying, "You are hot!" saying something like, "You have the prettiest neck." might be an improvement. Um....maybe, but I don't think I've met anybody who was smart enough to try it.
The next consensus was if you're a guy, you should always have a wingman. Not a wingman to take the ugly girl but a wingman to apologize for your "douchey" ways.
E: What does "douchey" mean? (He's 12 so why would he know this?)
M (daughter): ::giggle:: (She's 12 so why does she know this?)
Me: What are you giggling at?
M (daughter): E said "douchey" and it sounded funny.
Me: Do you know what "douchey" means? Hmmmmm?
M (daughter): I've heard you use the word before!
Me: E should listen to this. It's good stuff. I know a lot of guys that need to take a lesson on tact and pick-up lines.
M (daughter): I think E has "douchey" down pat mom.
Me: M! Maybe you need to take a lesson on not being such a brat! And I have a feeling you don't really know what "douchey" means so you better watch it.
E: Um...."Douchey" better mean irresistable because I'm not anything BUT irresistable.
Me: Yah....you go with that E. That'll get you tons of women.
E: Well, before we go, I just wanted to tell you that you have the prettiest hands.
Me: See!!! He was listening. Thanks E. That wasn't "douchey" at all!
E: What does "douchey" mean??
Oh, I can't WAIT for the phone call from E's mother today after school.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
2/22/10
Miserable Muses.
Most people get off on being miserable. Some can be described as pessimists. I have a tendency to be a pessimist but I'm mostly an optimist. I don't think bad things always happen to me. When bad things happen, I don't ask, "Why does this always happen to me?"
I understand the meaning of a bad day. I even understand a bad day seeming like the end of the world. It's never the end of the world until you're dead and buried though. I am not dead and buried.
One thing I have noticed is I can write like a wild woman when I'm feeling miserable. I put all the sadness, all the pain, and all the tears into my writing and I swear....I feel better. Don't get me wrong, I may feel better but the bad day hasn't disappeared. I've still woken up the next day and the bad is still there. Oh life. You suck sometimes but thanks for not killing me yet. I've still got stuff to do.
After a horrible morning yesterday that started at 12am and lasted through the night, I had hit rock bottom. I had faked it throughout the day with a smile that could've won awards. I didn't rub off on anybody. I didn't force my bad day onto others. I had made it through the day. And then my daughter, M. My daughter takes after my husband. And don't get me wrong, that's not necessarily a bad thing but it has its moments. I have key points that you can hit me with that hurt. They hurt so bad that I feel like my heart is breaking.
1) I'm a bad mother.
2) I'm a bad wife.
3) I've ruined you.
I got hit with 2 of those 3 things yesterday. And luckily for M, her dad heard the fight and came in and rescued me....or M....I'm not sure who was in more trouble actually. He did however separate us and when I was away from M, I burst into tears. How utterly ridiculous to allow a 12 year old to reduce you to tears? But you see, I wasn't just crying for that one thing. My body and my heart couldn't hold it in anymore.
So, what's the point? Well, my point is everybody has a bad day. Everybody has a moment where the world is ending. We are all human and all of that is okay. You're all allowed to have bad days. That's just life. If life didn't give you bad days, you wouldn't know what a good day was. And if your bad day carries over to the next day? Well, I always think that just means you didn't learn anything yet so life is just giving you a second chance to figure it out.
So figure it out! Cause life's hard, life sucks, life is not a picnic. It's up to you to conquer it and bring the snacks.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
I understand the meaning of a bad day. I even understand a bad day seeming like the end of the world. It's never the end of the world until you're dead and buried though. I am not dead and buried.
One thing I have noticed is I can write like a wild woman when I'm feeling miserable. I put all the sadness, all the pain, and all the tears into my writing and I swear....I feel better. Don't get me wrong, I may feel better but the bad day hasn't disappeared. I've still woken up the next day and the bad is still there. Oh life. You suck sometimes but thanks for not killing me yet. I've still got stuff to do.
After a horrible morning yesterday that started at 12am and lasted through the night, I had hit rock bottom. I had faked it throughout the day with a smile that could've won awards. I didn't rub off on anybody. I didn't force my bad day onto others. I had made it through the day. And then my daughter, M. My daughter takes after my husband. And don't get me wrong, that's not necessarily a bad thing but it has its moments. I have key points that you can hit me with that hurt. They hurt so bad that I feel like my heart is breaking.
1) I'm a bad mother.
2) I'm a bad wife.
3) I've ruined you.
I got hit with 2 of those 3 things yesterday. And luckily for M, her dad heard the fight and came in and rescued me....or M....I'm not sure who was in more trouble actually. He did however separate us and when I was away from M, I burst into tears. How utterly ridiculous to allow a 12 year old to reduce you to tears? But you see, I wasn't just crying for that one thing. My body and my heart couldn't hold it in anymore.
So, what's the point? Well, my point is everybody has a bad day. Everybody has a moment where the world is ending. We are all human and all of that is okay. You're all allowed to have bad days. That's just life. If life didn't give you bad days, you wouldn't know what a good day was. And if your bad day carries over to the next day? Well, I always think that just means you didn't learn anything yet so life is just giving you a second chance to figure it out.
So figure it out! Cause life's hard, life sucks, life is not a picnic. It's up to you to conquer it and bring the snacks.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
2/19/10
The hurdles of being me.
There are many hurdles in life. Some are easy and some are painfully difficult. Whether it be a death of someone you love or the cold hard fact of never being that size 2 you were in high school, they are all hurdles. I often wish for the old days when hurdles were the size of curbs but in all honesty, those hurdles were when we were under the age of 10. Once we reached the ripe old age of 11, the hurdles grew to fences we couldn't hop over without a boost. Trust me, I tried to and ended up in handcuffs with three of my best friends in the back of a squad car.
My hurdles these days aren't really that difficult now. I try to see the good in each day I am given. Because in all seriousness, there is always something good in your day. I could choose to ignore them or I could embrace them for what they are. Little pieces of joy that made me laugh or smile.
For years I was a rejected wannabe author. Every query letter I sent out was rejected with a, "Not for me," reply. I understood the industry. I didn't like it but I understood it. It was just another hurdle I needed to jump over and no matter how many times I fell flat on my face, I still took another running start for it again. When I finally cleared that hurdle and ran for the next, it felt good. Clearing that hurdle meant I was rejected but requested. Rejection still hurts but being able to say that I'm requested too numbs it a bit. You can't go through life without a little rejection to knock you back to earth.
People in my life, whether they be men or women, have always put me on a tall pedestal. It's not something I resent but it is something I wish didn't happen. I'm not perfect. I cry when I'm sad. I smile when I'm happy. I pee my pants sometimes when I laugh. It's a long drop from my pedestal and when I fall, it hurts.
I got another request yesterday and I'm still racing toward that next hurdle. I don't mind if I fall flat on my face. Here's my biography. As an unpublished writer, my biography is short but in some ways it is long too. The agents don't care that I'm a brunette or have been writing since I could pick up a pencil. They just don't care.
My biography is short and simple. I am a daughter, a mother, a wife and a friend. Charles M. Schulz was once quoted, “Big sisters are like the crab grass in the lawn of life.” He was an only child and probably needed introducing to a few thousand little sisters. I am also a little sister.
I read this to my husband last night and what he said had the potential to really bug the crap out of me but I decided to see the good in it.
Him: You are so much more than that. You come across as boring and you are anything but boring.
Me: Thank you but they don't care.
Him: I do though. I want you to know that after each of those descriptions, there is an entire essay about how good you are at every one of them.
Me: Yah, but they don't care.
Him: Well, I guess you're right about that if that got someone interested but just imagine how interested they would be if they knew exactly who you were.
Me: Seriously, they don't care.
Him: Yah, you said that already. I just hope one of these days you get to actually say who you are and then you'll see that I'm right.
Me: Thank you. But seriously, they don't care.
Him: Oh shut up! You need to add on to that biography that you're a pain in the ass.
Me: I did. I said I was a wife.
And ladies and gentlemen, I am a pain in the ass. If I wasn't, I would've never started jumping those hurdles when I turned 11.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
My hurdles these days aren't really that difficult now. I try to see the good in each day I am given. Because in all seriousness, there is always something good in your day. I could choose to ignore them or I could embrace them for what they are. Little pieces of joy that made me laugh or smile.
For years I was a rejected wannabe author. Every query letter I sent out was rejected with a, "Not for me," reply. I understood the industry. I didn't like it but I understood it. It was just another hurdle I needed to jump over and no matter how many times I fell flat on my face, I still took another running start for it again. When I finally cleared that hurdle and ran for the next, it felt good. Clearing that hurdle meant I was rejected but requested. Rejection still hurts but being able to say that I'm requested too numbs it a bit. You can't go through life without a little rejection to knock you back to earth.
People in my life, whether they be men or women, have always put me on a tall pedestal. It's not something I resent but it is something I wish didn't happen. I'm not perfect. I cry when I'm sad. I smile when I'm happy. I pee my pants sometimes when I laugh. It's a long drop from my pedestal and when I fall, it hurts.
I got another request yesterday and I'm still racing toward that next hurdle. I don't mind if I fall flat on my face. Here's my biography. As an unpublished writer, my biography is short but in some ways it is long too. The agents don't care that I'm a brunette or have been writing since I could pick up a pencil. They just don't care.
My biography is short and simple. I am a daughter, a mother, a wife and a friend. Charles M. Schulz was once quoted, “Big sisters are like the crab grass in the lawn of life.” He was an only child and probably needed introducing to a few thousand little sisters. I am also a little sister.
I read this to my husband last night and what he said had the potential to really bug the crap out of me but I decided to see the good in it.
Him: You are so much more than that. You come across as boring and you are anything but boring.
Me: Thank you but they don't care.
Him: I do though. I want you to know that after each of those descriptions, there is an entire essay about how good you are at every one of them.
Me: Yah, but they don't care.
Him: Well, I guess you're right about that if that got someone interested but just imagine how interested they would be if they knew exactly who you were.
Me: Seriously, they don't care.
Him: Yah, you said that already. I just hope one of these days you get to actually say who you are and then you'll see that I'm right.
Me: Thank you. But seriously, they don't care.
Him: Oh shut up! You need to add on to that biography that you're a pain in the ass.
Me: I did. I said I was a wife.
And ladies and gentlemen, I am a pain in the ass. If I wasn't, I would've never started jumping those hurdles when I turned 11.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
2/18/10
Redneck Filipino
Ah yes, I hope I never run out of things to say because if I do, just shoot me. I've mentioned in my "biography" that I'm married. I even mentioned the husband yesterday. Let me properly introduce you because it's not very nice not to.
He's a dad. He's a brother. He's a son. He's a police officer. He's an ex-Marine. He's a hunter. And finally, he's a friend.
Okay, on paper, he's quite the man. Ah, who am I kidding? In person, he's quite the man too. But with every man, there are some flaws. Some of them are cute. Some of them? Not so cute.
He's a great dad. His little girls have him wrapped around their tiny, skinny fingers. I feel kind of sorry for him sometimes because he's so whipped, it's sometimes pathetic. I've often wondered if I had a son, would I be as whipped?
He's a great brother. He has a sister and a brother. They are both younger so they look up to him. He was the first one to graduate high school. He was the first one to begin his career in law enforcement. He was the first one to get married. He was the first one to purchase his first home. He is the example of what to do. I'm sure it's quite annoying to them in a way but I'm also sure they appreciate them.
He's a very good son. His parents are a little tiring with their life decisions. They truly are great parents though. They love their kids like parents should love their kids.
And here is where we come to who he is. To be honest with you, I am sometimes confused at to who I married sometimes. Being a police officer, he's got quite the ego. Being an ex-Marine, multiply that ego by a thousand. Being a hunter, well, actually, this is the strange part yet so fitting. Here's a conversation to prove why it's fitting.
Him: Did you see that French guy ask Apollo Ohno for help when he slipped on the ice?
Me: Did he? (Yeah, I totally fell for this)
Him: Of course he did, the French always ask the Americans for help. Any minute now he's going to blame Apollo for his slip. God, I hate the French!
Me: Who else do you hate?
Him: Canada.
Me: Canada? Jeez, they're the most gentle country in this world.
Him: Exactly, they don't do anything for us. They're a bunch of wimps. I hate Italians too.
Me: Seriously, my question should've been who you don't hate.
Him: Oh, that's easy. I don't hate Australians. I hate New Zealand though.
Me: It's practically the same country. What did New Zealand do to you?
Him: They try too hard to be Australia.
This conversation could've been at least an all-nighter but I'll spare you anymore ridiculousness. The kicker here? He's Filipino! My husband was born here so he's really Filipino American but he's technically a foreigner....who hates foreigners. He's a freaking redneck!
Side note and a confession. I am also a redneck and damn proud of it. There is nothing wrong with being a redneck. Well....maybe a couple things but those are the rednecks we do not speak of.
So here is my husband. We've been together for over twenty years. We've been married for over thirteen years. He's a dad, a brother, a son, an ex-Marine, a police officer, a friend and a husband.
He's a redneck Filipino.
He is NOT my cousin though. I actually love Canada and New Zealand.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
He's a dad. He's a brother. He's a son. He's a police officer. He's an ex-Marine. He's a hunter. And finally, he's a friend.
Okay, on paper, he's quite the man. Ah, who am I kidding? In person, he's quite the man too. But with every man, there are some flaws. Some of them are cute. Some of them? Not so cute.
He's a great dad. His little girls have him wrapped around their tiny, skinny fingers. I feel kind of sorry for him sometimes because he's so whipped, it's sometimes pathetic. I've often wondered if I had a son, would I be as whipped?
He's a great brother. He has a sister and a brother. They are both younger so they look up to him. He was the first one to graduate high school. He was the first one to begin his career in law enforcement. He was the first one to get married. He was the first one to purchase his first home. He is the example of what to do. I'm sure it's quite annoying to them in a way but I'm also sure they appreciate them.
He's a very good son. His parents are a little tiring with their life decisions. They truly are great parents though. They love their kids like parents should love their kids.
And here is where we come to who he is. To be honest with you, I am sometimes confused at to who I married sometimes. Being a police officer, he's got quite the ego. Being an ex-Marine, multiply that ego by a thousand. Being a hunter, well, actually, this is the strange part yet so fitting. Here's a conversation to prove why it's fitting.
Him: Did you see that French guy ask Apollo Ohno for help when he slipped on the ice?
Me: Did he? (Yeah, I totally fell for this)
Him: Of course he did, the French always ask the Americans for help. Any minute now he's going to blame Apollo for his slip. God, I hate the French!
Me: Who else do you hate?
Him: Canada.
Me: Canada? Jeez, they're the most gentle country in this world.
Him: Exactly, they don't do anything for us. They're a bunch of wimps. I hate Italians too.
Me: Seriously, my question should've been who you don't hate.
Him: Oh, that's easy. I don't hate Australians. I hate New Zealand though.
Me: It's practically the same country. What did New Zealand do to you?
Him: They try too hard to be Australia.
This conversation could've been at least an all-nighter but I'll spare you anymore ridiculousness. The kicker here? He's Filipino! My husband was born here so he's really Filipino American but he's technically a foreigner....who hates foreigners. He's a freaking redneck!
Side note and a confession. I am also a redneck and damn proud of it. There is nothing wrong with being a redneck. Well....maybe a couple things but those are the rednecks we do not speak of.
So here is my husband. We've been together for over twenty years. We've been married for over thirteen years. He's a dad, a brother, a son, an ex-Marine, a police officer, a friend and a husband.
He's a redneck Filipino.
He is NOT my cousin though. I actually love Canada and New Zealand.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
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