My Resume

As you may or may not know, I've been spending a lot of time on my resume lately. And I just feel like a resume is a big fat lie. No one really puts the truth on those things. Oh, I'm sure some of it's true, but I'm sure most of it is one of those situations where technically it's the truth, but it's about as close to a lie as you can get without actually lying.

If I was being honest, this is what my resume would actually say..

OBJECTIVE

Energetic 20-something with big plans but no way to make those plans happen, so please hire her so she will be able to afford all of the things she wants to do while actually working as little as possible.

EDUCATION

High School - Class of 2008
Academic Honors Diploma
Graduated with honors because that's when she thought high school class work mattered.

College - Class of "Never graduating ever because I've changed my major too many times"
Still working on her degree because she's blown through 5 different majors without actually completing one of them because she's incapable of making a decision that will determine the rest of her life.

EXPERIENCE

Daycare - 7ish years
She can change a diaper in record time AND is a pro at making bottles with one hand. She is also knowledgeable in Dr. Seuss and baby sign language.

Ice Cream Shoppe - 4 years
She can scoop ice cream, make sundaes, chop bananas, and make change for a 5 dollar bill quickly. She's also hoping these will be marketable skills one day, but she's not holding her breath.

Department Store - 4 months
She was thrust into the "home" department and she used to read the boxes on the blenders to pass the time, so she's hoping this will come in handy too. She's also really good at forgetting her cash register login number and needing a supervisor to remind her every single shift.

College Athletics - 5 years
She can be in a large group of guys without wanting to shoot them all. She knows random facts about sports that she's hoping might be helpful. She's also good at ass-kissing her boss so he doesn't throw a temper tantrum when they're one water bottle short.

SPECIAL SKILLS

Typing fast, speed mopping, dodging football players, coloring, scooping perfect ice cream balls, an giving the illusion that she's doing a lot without actually doing a lot. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Okay, so most of that isn't true either. But some of it is. I'll leave it to your imagination.

Now I'm going to work on my real resume with real cover letters because I don't think I can send this one to anyone..

Tornadoes and Devastation

Once again, I don't know what to say.

Is it just me or has it been a hard year? I've gotten teary eyed watching the news one too many times this year.

Tornadoes scare me. Always have, always will.

When I was younger my home was destroyed by a tornado. My dad, mom, and I were next door at my grandparents house taking shelter.

I was a child, so I have a child's memory of that day and the days following. The tornado struck a few days before Thanksgiving, so my family had a few extra reasons to be thankful that day.

Now, in my twenties, I know how much we truly had to be thankful for. Yes, we had no home. Yes, all of our possessions were destroyed and thrown into the road and the trees across the street. Yes, all of my baby pictures are gone. But no, we weren't hurt. No, I didn't lose my parents. No, my parents didn't lose a child.

The tornado did have a few lasting effects. My dad is hyper aware of every storm that comes through our area. The amount of texts and calls I get when a thunderstorm comes into town, that has a 5% chance of producing a tornado, is unreal. I also have serious anxiety when it comes to tornadoes. While some ignore and blow off a tornado watch, I get panicky and usually call dad. A tornado watch can turn into a tornado warning within seconds. And then a tornado could destroy a town in minutes. That quickness scares me.

Tornadoes scare me.

Which is why I was glued to the television last night, doing a piss-poor job of holding in my tears.

Oklahoma, I'm thinking of you. I'm sending happy thoughts and love your way. I wish I could send more. I wish I had those kinds of healing powers.

babies, wine, and beer - Weekend Recap

Let's give Monday a big shout out today, folks! I know you may not like Monday, but Monday brings us closer to Friday and I'm a big fan of Friday!

Now let's get to my weekend and make this post nice and short and sweet!

Oh and just like every Monday be sure to check out Sami, who's adorable. I'm particularly fond of her fashion posts after big events (such as the VMA's, Oscar's, etc.) and her friday Twitter posts. Check em ouuuuttttt.

Friday - Visited my sister at work, aka a daycare, aka I got to play with babies. I love babies and their little baby feet.

Saturday - Went with my best friend to visit a local winery that we're in love with. Oliver Winery. We call Oliver our boyfriend, daily. Mmm.. wine.

Saturday - Why wouldn't we follow up our wine tasting with a beer tasting? And the most delicious mac and cheese ever. Other than my mom's, but I'm biased.

Saturday - Why not continue our day drinking with night drinking?

Sunday - I went home. To my parents house. To do laundry and eat dinner. And help my little bro with his raccoon project. I am the queen of posters. I enjoyed helping him way too much.

The time a football player tried to break my nose..

Usually I try to write my own blog post for the day before I get sucked into reading all of my daily blog reads, otherwise my blog post doesn't get written until 3pm or at all. Facts of life, people.

But yesterday, I didn't get to read all of my daily reads. *GASP* I know. It was horrible.. and my sister's fault. She just finished her freshman year in college. *insert sobs* She's home now for the summer, and a bunch of her friends that I adore and love are also home for the summer. They were all at my parents house last night and they called me and forced me to come over. I was in big sister heaven. All my little babies are home!

Whoa, that train derailed quickly, back on track.. So this morning instead of writing a post first, I thought I'd catch up on some of my reads.

Which brings me to the inspiration for this post.. Sweet Beth from Hang on, Honey wrote a post today about what she's learned from blogging. So after I was done laughing, I re-read them and came up with my post for today.. #3 on her list. An embarrassing story.

Now I'm not totally sure if this is MY embarrassing story or someone else's. Either way, I'm telling it.

So approximately 2 years ago I was working at a college athletic facility and I was walking around a corner. To my surprise, so was someone else, coming the opposite direction. He happened to be a football player. He happened to be rather large. And no surprise here, collision ensues.

After sad collision, my nose was gushing blood. Pretty great visual, right? This poor football player is totally freaking out. He probably said "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" a thousand times. And I'm over here, holding my nose, bleeding everywhere, trying to reassure HIM that it's okay.

So he decides/insists that I let him walk me down to the trainer. Okay, fine. I've never had a bloody nose in my life, so I don't really know what to do anyway. And in the middle of his "I'm sorry"s Mr. Football Player mentions that he hopes my nose isn't broken. Oh, hadn't even thought of that. Super.

So we get down to the trainer, who I happen to know. But that's another story for another day. Let's just say it's awkward. So Mr. Football Player is totally clueless to the big elephant in the room. You could cut the awkward tension with a knife, it's that bad. But no, he's over here talking away saying some more "I'm sorry"s.

He's also standing fairly close while I'm sitting on the counter being checked out. The trainer walks away to go get something and I had just brought my hand down, so my bloody, possibly broken nose is totally unprotected. You know where this is going, don't you? Mr. Football Player tries to reach around me and grab something off of the shelf behind me and BAM! He hits my nose again.

Now until this moment, I'd been doing a good job of controlling myself. No tears. Well, insert water works. I'm bleeding, I'm crying. Mr. Football Player is stammering. At this point I don't even know what he's saying because I've totally tuned him out. The trainer rushes over and sends Mr. Football Player to the opposite side of the room and finishes taking care of me.

Every time I saw Mr. Football Player that year, he would be overly nice and friendly.. and turn beat red. Every. Time.

Oh, and my nose wasn't broken. Thank goodness for small favors.

So that's my embarrassing story. Embarrassing for me because I had some interesting past history with the trainer and I'm bleeding all over him. Embarrassing for Mr. Football Player because he was such a klutz.

Also this is a word heavy post because there are absolutely no pictures of this event. Thank goodness again for small favors.