Didn’t get my financial mgmt skills from either of my parents

Seriously. I am so sick of managing my mother’s finances. I’m about to start giving her an allowance because I am ALWAYS bailing her out of shit and giving her money because she has overdrawn shit. WTF. I swear since she has moved here, she thinks she is this super old lady….like she is 85 or some crap. She is 60. Freaking 60. You’d think she’d learn some lessons after all this time. And when I try and give her some advice, she just acts ignorant and unaware. Sometimes it is like talking to a 6 year old. If her finances spiraling out of control didn’t have such an effect on my life, I’d let her do whatever she wants. But that isn’t the case. I need to bail her out every time. So if she wants to act like a trust fund baby, then I’ll treat her like one. I’m going to develop an allowance plan for her. So stupid……but I have to do it because I need to keep rearranging my finances to accomodate her. DONE. I am D-O-N-E with it.

I have stress. Just stupid life stresses really, nothing serious. I need to write more. I’m happiest when I write because that is how I deal with stuff. I write and vent about it. It isn’t an accurate portrayal of my life…just a little peek inside. So let’s try this again. Months go by and I say I’m back……then I go unheard from. Well let’s try.

My marriage is going really well. However, the more I get to know my husband, the more I get to know certain things he does. Like I can tell when he is lying. I can tell when he is nervous to tell me something because he slaps he hand around a lot on whatever surface is near by…counter, couch, and dog.  I kid about that last one.  I know when he is dreading to tell me something because of how he starts out the conversation. Just now he decided to tell me about his Facebook friend from high school. Apparently they’ve been chatting. She and her husband come up to DC from time to time, so they’ve always talked about getting drinks. He says it was all out in a public forum, but I’ve never seen mention of it on his profile. Whatever though (annoyed wife response). Well he is going to Tampa to live it up with his boyfriend in a few weeks, and I’m sure they’ve been trying to contact everyone they know to try and relive their high school days. He said that he just got an email from this said friend’s husband saying “no drinks with my wife dude”. I said well where did he get this from when you said you make clear mention of each other’s spouses, eventhoughIcan’tseeit, involved in this meet-up? He said he’s an insecure douche. Well maybe, but I bet he’s a smart cookie who can read between the lines.

I don’t care much about his alter-ego that I’m sure flirts with anything with B-cups or higher…but it is somewhat embarrassing when someone else’s spouse calls you out. Or I could be totally wrong…and the guy could be an insecure douche. Lord only know there are plenty of them out there these days. Me? Eh. I’m far too wise to care about stuff like this anymore. I just blog about it because…slightly annoying that at 33, I’m dealing with this 90210 crap. Well not really dealing…just listening to my husband tell me because I’m sure he’s expecting insecure douche to send me a message as well. lol

I have more important arguments these days like who does (or doesn’t) do the dishes in my house. That is what is important to me at age 33. A clean kitchen!

New Job!

I recently left my job of almost two years, along with my company of four years. Bottom line, the company doesn’t care about career progression very much, and only seems to be concerned with filling open contracts with bodies. Also? I couldn’t take working in the environment I was working in. I loved my customers, my job, and all of my coworkers. However, my boss was the one factor that I finally had enough with.

It started a few months back when she pulled me aside and said a social acquaintance of mine that works in the office next door was “lurking after me” and she thought I should know. Well said social acquaintance happened to be coming to my house the following weekend with his wife and children. I figured I should do the right thing by going to him and getting his side of the story. So I did. It was a really awkward moment…one of the most I’ve ever had professionally, but I knew as soon as I saw the look of horror on his face that it was totally untrue.

We started to figure out the pieces of the puzzle and figure out why this boss of mine would say this. He actually ended up talking to the other people that were in the room at the time of the “mix-up” (I use that term VERY loosely), and found out some interesting things. All witnesses to this incident said she came in and started randomly talking about the size of my chest and how sorry she feels for me. Ummm 34D? She said that she knows all the unwanted attention I get because of it makes me insecure. Oh really? I’ve had these bad boys for well over a decade (in this size anyways), and I think I’ve learned to deal with any “issues” that may come up due to them. Plus, let me throw in there, I am NOT insecure in the slightest way about their size. Witnesses to this matter actually said that they were certain there was a jealousy issue going on with boss person. I guess someone made a joking comment about my social acquaintance lurking after me, but he wasn’t even in the room. And all the witnesses involved said it was clear that the person who made the comment was joking. Guess boss lady didn’t see it like that (Or just wanted to be a 90210-drama queen).  How unprofessional though?! To be a site lead and go to your customers taking crap about one of your employees and then starting rumors? Sad.

I ended up having to confront the boss about this as I was seriously contemplating taking this matter to corporate. It was an interesting conversation, and she immediately apologized, as well as apologizing to the person she said was lurking after me. She made it clear she was only looking after my best interest though. Yeah, whatever it takes to cover your obnoxious self.

So that was the beginning of the end for me. She is a micro-manager, and needs to be involved in every process. In addition, she comes in the office and hangs out for hours on end when we clearly had work to do. I just couldn’t take working like that…or for someone like that anymore.

It worked out well though as I ended up getting hired on with a company that made Forbes magazine’s list of Best 100 Places to Work for the 5th year in a row, and I moved into management. However, that is another issue in itself as I have a lot of disgruntled people in my new office. In addition to reworking technical procedures, I really need to focus on morale. Different post entirely.

That is what happened with my boss though and the beginning of the end of my time with that company. I’m sure I could have moved elsewhere in the company, but like I mentioned before the company just doesn’t care about their people. Oh well…onto bigger and better things to include a better company, more pay, and a better title.

I’m baaaaacccckkk!

And I’ve changed the name because I’m going to get “serious” about my blogging again. Ha! Nah, I just didn’t like plain jane “Jlynn’s Blog”, and I gave it some thought. I am not always perfect, but I sure do try. So I searched out the domain www.notalwaysperfect.comand low and behold, it was available. Why do I feel the need to own the domain name of my blog? I’m narcissistic like that I suppose. But really, I like blogging. I like writing whatever comes to mind. The funny thing about looking back on my blogs over the years is the interaction with all the people, and all their love, advice, and criticism. What people remember is that there are always three sides to every store. My side, the other side, and the right side. The way I tell my side of things may not always be how it actually is…just how I perceive it. And I just got so caught up in giving a shit about what everyone else thought. But you know I have had an interesting life, and a lot of crappy things that I’ve allowed to happen in my life, as well as lot of good. So the history and archives I shall leave in place as they are part of my life, my background, and who I am today, but onto the next chapter of my life. And NO PERSONAL PICTURES this time! 🙂 Oh happy day!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I AM America’s Next Top Model

We have another season of ANTM kicking off. Yes, I still watch this horrific show. I just can’t help it. My 20 something self wanted them all to make it so badly. Even my 30 year old self was cheering for my favorite girls. Now? I simply watch just to make fun of them. OK, I always did that, but I had other reasons as well. Now it is simply to make fun. This season takes the cake. It really does. To be continued.

Freaking Lion King

My mother got us tickets to see the Lion King for our anniversary. They are in DC the entire summer, and sold out right away. Well, it turned out that we could not go the night she had gotten us tickets, and we advertised on Craigslist to see if someone wanted to trade our Tuesday night tickets. The only interest we sparked was by someone who couldn’t go on Saturday, August 9th. Well great! Tuesday for a Saturday? We are in!

Ha. I should have known better. August 9th happens to be the Saturday that falls on the weekend of our six and ten year old nephew and niece visiting us. So now we are in a scramble to find two more tickets to Saturday’s show. I bid on a pair on Ebay, but then realized that it doesn’t end for another two days. There are a few other tickets on Ebay that I could buy now, but it ends before the first auction I got in on. I suppose I could buy two sets and then sell the extra two, but I didn’t want this much hassle. So if anyone has tickets they want to get rid of, let me know!!!

Car Accidents Suck

Funny but I hardly ever drive to work. I normally slug. Thursday I drove in because I took Molly to daycare. I was two blocks away from work, and some careless prick decided to do a u-turn without looking in the lane next to him. I happened to be in the lane next to him, and he hit my front right side. I didn’t even see it coming, and when my car stopped spinning, I burst into tears. This guy gets out of his car, and runs over asking if I am ok. He tells me he is calling 9-1-1. I told him I was ok, just shook up really. Just the cops, but no medical. Now he is on the phone with his lawyer. I’m trying to move my car to the side of the road since it is blocking both northbound lanes, but it won’t move. It’s pretty darn screwed really. His car won’t move either, so I let him and the witness direct traffic while I try and call my husband who is in Seattle on business for the week. The cops finally show up, and we do the routine reports while the towing company rounds the corner to take our smashed up vehicles away.

Once our cars were loaded on the flat bed, I got the paperwork I needed from the cop. He informed me that old boy was getting cited for a few things to include illegal u-turn, and I may need to go to court to testify. Great. Another day wasted.

I walked down Crystal Drive heading towards my building realizing that the next six hours were really going to suck. When I got there, I told my boss that I needed to go to the ER. Once the adrenaline wore off, I realized my entire right side was starting to ache and throb. First, I had to get the claim process started, and find out about a rental. The guy’s insurance company reacted really quickly, and I was in a Toyota Highlander before I knew it. Next up, the ER. I got to hang out there for about four hours. They wanted to run all kinds of x-rays and what not to make sure I was okay. I kept telling them I just needed a prescription for some Flexeril. The doctor finally agreed it was just tense muscles, and gave me my piece of paper along with a pill for the road. I had about an hour or so to make it home before I knew it would kick in. Off I went to pick up Molly before 7pm.

I was very pleased when I arrived and got a good report for her day. She’d been there about nine hours, and played nice with all the other dogs. No riots this time, so she won’t be banned just yet.

Once I got home, I was out for the night in about an hour and a half, which was actually great because I don’t sleep well without TheBoy there.

I can’t help it. I love Kid Rock.

I do. I love Kid Rock, and his music. I know the majority will probably disagree with me on that. I love that song All Summer Long. I think it is my favorite of the moment. I actually saw him in concert when I lived in San Antonio. It was the famous night where the lead singer of Monster Magnet tried to pick me up by appearing in the crowd after they were done opening for Kid Rock. He told me I had pretty eyes after he practically sang his entire damn show while looking right at me. Then he asked what I was doing after the show. I am sure I could have gotten a ride on the tour bus if ya know what I mean. However, I was with a friend and her husband, and she was about seven months pregnant. Plus, he wasn’t really my cup o’tea. Very nice though. It felt nice to know a rock star had a short crush on me.

But yeah back to Kid Rock. He puts on a fabulous show. It was probably one of the best concerts I have ever seen. Also, he is a big supporter of the troops, and for that reason alone I think he is grand.

I feel old

A few weeks ago, we went out to dinner with our friend for her birthday. It was a lovely evening, and we went to Coastal Flats to sip on mango martinis (delicious by the way). After dinner, my husband mentioned stopping by a house party that one of his poker buddies was hosting. We figured why not? Always up for meeting new people! We drive up to a neighborhood in the Fairfax area, and pass a house with an assload of KIDS outside. Well, that can’t possibly be it right? Ha. Ha. Ha. It was.

We park, and walk up to the house, smiling at all the young-ins congregating on the front lawn, and head inside looking for the host that my husband is familiar with.

“Ummm babe, I thought you played poker with this guy?”

“I do.”

OKaaaaaaay. I’m picturing a bunch of professional guys at his poker games based on the descriptions he gives me, and not some college guy with black light posters and little robots in a boxing ring on top of the tv. So we wade through the crowd, and find the guy he knows. Introductions are given, and he asks us if we want a drink.

“We have Guinness or NattyBo.”

I’m thinking no champagne or martinis? I’m such a snobby bitch sometimes. I smile and tell him I’ll take a NattyBo as I don’t do well with dark beer. He leads us to a room with not one, but TWO kegerators! That room also has THE stickiest floors I’ve ever seen. My pretty heels don’t like it. But what can I do because there happens to be a flip cup tournament going on! This is the kegerator/flip cup room. I feel ridiculously out of place. I’m sure that J (the birthday girl) and I could be old enough to be mothers to some. Yes, I am serious. I felt like I was at a high school dance. There were drunk BOYS, yes boys and not guys, there who were being drunk college aged boys and leering at me in a super pervy way with their big drunken smiles. I am sure they are thinking MILF or something along those lines about us. I just felt skeevy. Very, very skeevy having these young boys give me the “look”. One of them even walked by and said ‘hey’ while brushing up against my boob. I am sure it was the highlight of his night.

At this point my husband comes over and tells me he had no idea that the crowd was this young. He didn’t realize his Poker Friend was that young, or rather hung out with that young of a crowd. TheBoy said we could leave after finishing our beers which worked out as J. had to get home to her lil’ one who wasn’t feeling well. So we’re getting ready to say our goodbyes and thank yous, when everyone in the house starts to quickly pour inside.

“DUDE! The COPS are HERE!”

Oh my God. Are you serious? I’m at a keg party with young people and the COPS are here? I start to quietly panic (chronic anxiety will do that to you) as I am thinking that I’m probably the oldest person in there at a lovely 32. The cops will come in and card everyone, look at me, and wonder what in the hell I am doing there. OH! You MUST be their supplier! I was picturing the entire scene quietly in my mind when Poker Friend tells us not to worry because the cops show up for ALL his parties. Ya think?

After about 10 minutes, the cops seem to disappear. This is when we make our move to leave. We thank Poker Friend for his hospitality, and head home. Now I have no problems with Poker Friend as his was nothing but nice and hospitable to us. I just felt ridiculously old and out of place at that party. Middle age has officially struck.

Doggy Daycamp

Molly, AKA TheBean, is my first born bulldog. She is quickly approaching 2. For a while, we thought we had her under control, but we were sadly mistaken. After a short stint with puppy prozac, we took her off the meds in hopes that the vigorous training we did while she was on them worked. Boy, were we wrong.

She has started to act up again in several ways. Molly barks nonstop during dinner (we eat at the table in the dining room, and her cage is adjacent to the table). She picks fights with Roscoe. She can not share toys. She is fearless. Literally. She’ll run with the biggest dogs at the park, and try and take their tennis balls. Hi, when you are a 50lb SHORT dog and challenging a German Shepherd, well, it isn’t the smartest thing. She pretty much thinks she is invincible. It would seem that I am her only pack leader in this world as she listens to me when I give commands. She doesn’t even do well listening to TheBoy. It is like she is mine, and Roscoe is his because God only knows I have trouble controlling him and his 100lb self. Short of becoming a stay-at-home-dog-mom, I’m running out of ideas.

The answer? What would Caesar do? WWCD. My new catch phrase. Should I make t-shirts? He would say she needs more exercise. So we started to do these long ass walks when we come home from work with the dogs. They get pooped and we burn calories. Win/win for everyone! Except Molly doesn’t get pooped. She comes home and wants to play some more. It is exhausting. An English Bulldog is SUPPOSED to be LAZY, not this fireball of energy. How did we ever get so lucky? *Sigh* Seriously, I believe a child would be less work than my dog. Yes, I am dead serious.

We decided that Molly needs a more creative outlet, so we enrolled her in Doggy Daycare here. It is as swanky as it looks, probably more so in person. Two to three days a week is our goal. $105 a week on daycare for our dog. Christ. But if it helps her out, then it is worth it to us.

Day 1: She gets dropped off, and is put in the small dog playgroup. No. That won’t work because she likes to terrorize the wee ones, so we tell them she’ll be fine with the big dogs. And for a while, she is. That is until she starts some dog riots. Apparently, my little brat doesn’t want any other dog to have toys. She tries to take them from EVERYONE which causes controversy when you try and take a bone away from a German Shepherd. I guess she kept getting the big dogs all riled up. So much that it warranted not one, but TWO time out sessions for her. After the third riot ensues, she is moved back down to the small dog group where she causes more riots and has to be put away into solitary confinement.

When we arrived, the staff member at the reception desk said ‘oh you are Molly’s parents? You’ll need to come with me please’. They went on to describe the events of the day, and said they didn’t want to ban her just yet as they would like a few more times to see if she gets more comfortable with the staff. Great, my dog already has a reputation. While we were in this “parent-teacher conference”, several staff members walked by and referred to Molly as ‘Tough Girl’. Awesome.

We will try Doggy Daycamp again on Wednesday. Until then, pray for us….or send Caesar.