Stripper Heels and Old People

What broke my day: movies with old people. In general, old people make me sad. It's not an insult in any way, but especially in movies and books, old people sadden me. The Notebook: cried.  The Bucket List: Cried. Second Hand Lions: Cried. Water for Elephants(book and movie): Cried.Up: Cried- the entire movie. In fact this sadness was so bad that when I read the book Water for Elephants, I ran down sobbing, mascara running down my face, and informed my father that when he was old and in a nursing home I was taking him to the circus, and all his old people friends too.  It's that bad. I can't help that old people make me sad because in books and movies they are portrayed as looking only at the past, remembering how good it was, and not being able to be happy in the present,This fact, makes me want to cry:literally. Reminiscing is fun, but sad. Especially widows/widowers. Like in Up, whenever the old man saw something that reminded him of his wife, or the fact that they couldn't have children, I made that dramatic clown-sob face and wailed. What made it worse was the fact that my father and sister were sitting next to me in the theater laughing at me for crying. I now HATE that movie. But as we are planning a girls night this thought came to my mind,and as we are sure to pick a chick flick, I need to make sure it involves no old people. Crying makes me sad(I thought I would point this out, in case you couldn't put two and two together.) Who wants to feel sad? I sure as hell don't, and that's why movies with old people break my day.

Fire-Engine Red and Being Trilingual,

What Broke my day: Sunburns. Unintentional, raging, sunburns. Remember that beach date I said I had yesterday. Well it was great, but then I thought I would go for round two. Round two was fun, but a failure. I sat, listened to music, gossiped, and had awkward "how are you?" convos with people I went to high school with. Even though I had to venture into the cold, cruel, world in a swimsuit, I had a pleasurable time while there. I got there and immediately lathered up with sunscreen: SPF 50, for your information. My grandfather and Aunt both died of cancer. My Grandmother and Great-Grandmother died within hours of each other, both of cancer. Cancer stole my chance of Grandparents, and I'm terrified of getting it. So I loaded up, and began to lay out. Well, at least I thought I loaded up. Let's put it this way: never trust me to paint your house. I guess I didn't evenly apply my sun screen, and now I look like a cross between an albino dalmatian and a baboon. Why a baboon, you ask? Well I guess I didn't effectively cover my butt in the UV protecting serum, and now I have a red ass. Yeah, it's SUPER attractive, and painful, and disgusting. It's like a giant, fire-engine red exlamation point pointing to my butt saying, "LOOK AT ME, I'M GOING TO GET CANCER!" In addition to that I have red spots all over my body that itch, giant red spots, which make me look like I have some kind of  contagious flesh-eating skin disease. It's painful, not attractive, and makes me fear that I will get cancer. I've never been to a tanning salon, and I try to always put on sunscreen, but apparently I failed today, and now I'm going to die of cancer. FML. These red patchy blotches of superheated skin that feel like someone is hitting me with a whip(and possibly a chain, because I may be bad, but I am perfectly good at it) every time I sit down mean several sad things that break my day. I have to put away those booty shorts (SAD...RIGHT?), I'm sticky from the aloe vera, and I'm dehydrated and tired. Oh so depressing.

Turn Offs and Turn Ons

What Broke my day: When guys try to prove something through their vehicles. If you have a loud sound system sir, or a super nice sports car that you make go 'vroom vroom' at every corner, us girls automatically know you are compensating for something. Yesterday at dinner, this decent looking male pulled up to the restaurant in a very nice black, sports car, booming his music. My first thought: somebody is compensating for something, showing off to the girl he was meeting. Second thought: He's young, he either has had everything handed to him with a silver spoon, something not uncommon in Holland, MI, or he's successful:maybe. But then he had to go and step out of his car. There on his feet were two poop-brown, pieces of incomplete plastic, so unflattering, and disgusting, I don't even think they should be called shoes. Yes, those holey pieces of fashion suicide, called crocs.They were never intended to be worn in public, they started out as gardening clogs. I know this because when I was 8, I bought my mom a pair for her gardening. Back to the compensation of that dude. Honestly men: yes, women do like sports cars, but when you wave it around in our face making it extremely conspicuous, we know your making up for something. And I'm not saying that it has to be a certain appendage, it can be mommy issues, intelligence level, money problems (you own a nice car, but you live in a trailer park for instance) or a plethora of other things. Girls aren't stupid, we know that you have to make up for something. But, if you are driving a car of that sort, please, for goodness sakes, at least make sure you look the part of successful, handsome, well put-together guy. Because when you step out in crocs it makes me want to ask you, "You can afford that decent car, with a decent sound system, but you can't afford a decent pair of shoes? " Priorities man, priorities. And, for the record, that flamboyant ass grab that you performed as you walked away with your lady friend doesn't help your case. But PDA is for another day (hey...that rhymed! and now I'm happy.)

Good Deed:Sad Day, Bad Deed: Happy Day (My backwards day of thinking)

What broke my day: When plans fall through to do a greater deed. This morning I was set to go see my favorite Italian ever, but then my neighbor texted me and asked if I was awake. I said yes, and then the favor came. One of her friends, a single mom, was in desperate need for a sitter, because her daycare provider was violently ill. But here was the doozy, she was strapped for cash and I would have to do it for free. The day I had planned flashed before my eyes, as I reluctantly, gut-wrenchingly, said yes. I didn't regret it though, Aydan turned out to be the PERFECT child, he ate all his food, didn't give me sass, absolutely LOVED asking questions, and made quirky comments (at one point he told me his eyes broke.) But the fact that I had to forgo the entire day that I wanted to spend with my friends, really made me sad. Instead of 7 hours with them I only got 4, which sucked. That, and I really scraped up my hand on the monkey bars at the playground ( I didn't remember them being that dangerous when I was little.), and then while cleaning up my flesh wound, I lost a very expensive, very important ring, which made my day even worse. Yet, I wouldn't change it for the world because I helped someone in need, and met an AMAZING child. It also made me feel like I was doing a double whammy of a good deed because Aydan's mommy was an EMT, or a firewoman (I think maybe both?), and so while I rescued her child today, I was also allowing her to go rescue what I expect to be many others. Maybe giving up something you love is what volunteering is all about, giving up your time that you value, to help others in a chain reaction of goodness.

Raccoons and Italians (go together like Peanut butter and Jelly?)

What Broke my day: When your 'child' doesn't eat like you want them too. Okay, not real children, I'm not really old enough or ready to have children, but I'm talking about something like a child. A raccoon, a 6-week old one to be exact. We are rehabilitating  two orphaned raccoons through our friend, Sally( a liscensed wildlife rehabilitator), who just had too many baby raccoons this year. So, we took in two of them, and holy crustaceans is it work. We have to feed them, clean them, teach them, and nurture them. I absolutely ADORE these babies, a boy and a girl, named Griffin and Pheonix respectively. Even though we can't handle them that much because they will eventually be released into the wild, but they are, in fact, like my children. We feed them four times a day, clean thier cage, and take them outside (almost daily) to explore and learn how to do basic skills such as climbing, exploring, and fishing(kinda). But today, they didn't want to eat. I usually get up to feed them around 9 or 10 in the morning, but I didn't wake up in time. I figured they would be starving by 12, when I started to make the bottles. No such luck.  Phoenix refused to drink out of the first bottle, so I had to keep trying different bottles and different amounts , and after 10 minutes of these futile events, I finally got her to eat...but not enough. Griffin was the same, so I had to entail the help of my mother. It frustrated me and made me worry about thier health. I want them to thrive and eat the amount necessary to give them the proper nutrition, like an overprotective mother. But of course nothing ever goes according to plan, it's Murphy's law. They ate better a little later, but definetely not as much as they usually do and I'm still worrying, which makes me scared that something is wrong. Goodness, being a mommy is hard. I'm going to wait for a while to have my own.

A Simple Idea

I absolutely love to write, but I always get stuck on what to write about. But today I had a little epiphany, what if everyday, or maybe every week, depending on how it goes. I write about two things. The first, something that breaks my day, something that I dislike, hate, detest, makes me angry, makes me cry, or any other not so friendly adjective. The second thing: something that makes my day, something that made me smile, or something that I appreciate. It's a simple idea much like that corny high/low game some families play around the dinner table (are there such things as family dinners anymore?), but it might help me release everything, and remember the little things in life, while the first topic is a little bit of a Debby-Downer, reminding myself of the good things that I do have in life is important. I will always write about what made my day second, because ending on a good note will leave me feeling more positive about my life, which is the whole point of this little adventure in blogging. I failed at a blog last year, but I'm determined to make this one work. So here we go...
What Breaks My Day:  Rap music that is very demeaning towards women in a sexual manner. (that sounds super conservative). Today after I had my epiphany, after the thing that made my day had happened, a certain song popped up and I started jamming out to my music in my car. Then I realized that I was singing about licking someones 'lollipop' and how demeaning it was to 'us bitches.' The sad part of this story is that I like this song, I love the beat, and I love to dance and jam out and have fun to this kind of music, but I am also a slight feminist (okay a big one, but that doesn't change the fact that I still am a connoisseur of women jokes) and I felt horrible after singing about licking a 'lollipop' like that's the only thing that women are good for...well that and making samiches (see, I said I enjoy women jokes).  I guess what made me sad was that I liked singing about these intense sexual innuendos, and always feel the need to sway my hips and shake my booty when I listen to them, and it always brings a smile to my face. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE innuendos, I am very good at them and in addition to women jokes I am also fluent in 'that's what she said' jokes. But singing about licking lollipops, sugar canes, and Popsicles in a song: I feel like a bad person, and that breaks my day. Nevertheless, I still plan on listening to that music and dancing, but for now, maybe I should just listen to some Cannibal by Ke$ha, or perhaps some love games by Gaga.