A story about wedding gifts…

Guys have it easy.  This is the perk of being a guy.  You just show up on your lady's arm and make her look good.  

I  have been to a little over 879 weddings so I have a system.  I NEVER VEER from the registry.  They put that together so you won’t get them stupid crap they don’t need from a garage sale. 

This genius list is in TIERS.  Fancy huh? 

Tier 4 – Cash money/gift cards to store on their registry – Just think of it as good fellas, get a card, put some money it.  You don’t have time to shop, and no bride and groom are going to turn down money or gift cards.  This is the half ass approach and you are too busy traveling and having a good life. [You aren’t a jerk – you got them something]  However, if you think $25.00 makes you look cheap, getting a gift can always be cheaper depending on what you get, plus people like opening presents… (SIDEBAR: I LOVE OPENING PRESENTS!!  So go ahead and surprise me) See Tier 3.

Tier 3 – Bathroom Supplies – $25.00 and below.  This gift is reserved for a wedding that you don’t really want to go, or you don’t like the bride or groom all that much, but you found out there is an open bar.  Perhaps some of your fun friends are going.  You don’t want to spend too much money, so you get them, a tooth brush holder, soap dish and like 2 wash clothes.  Don’t exceed $25.00.  [This works perfectly if they are registered at Target]

Tier 2 – Kitchen Supplies - $25.00 - $50.00.  This gift is reserved to people you used to like but aren’t in your friend squad or Top 5.  You will probably catch up with people and have a decent time, and naturally, there should be an open bar.  [This works perfectly if they are registered at Pottery Barn or Williams Sonoma – I once bought an ice cream scoop and napkin rings, didn’t exceed 25.00 and called it a day, plus I still received a thank you note in the mail]

Tier 1 – Bedding and Towels - $50.00 - $100.00+  This gift is reserved for people who are 1) your family or 2) your friend squad or Top 5.  The money doesn’t matter as much  because you actually like these people and are happy for them and are not taking bets while in the chapel on a possible future divorce date…  This is when you pull out the goods and get them big fluffy bath towels or bedding like sheets with 1000 thread count.   [This is where you go to Macy’s or Dillard’s or somewhere good]

Go forth and send that RSVP back. The End.

39 and holding

Once upon a time, I turned 39 this year.  39...

I remember 29, my glory year.  A trip to Vegas with my girlfriends and a great celebration at a Piano bar...my friends wore all black.  Then I finally noticed.  Assholes.  It was memorable.  I also remember clinging to 29.  30 seemed old.  They even had a show, 30-Somethings.  I didn't watch it, but I remember it.  Maybe because I was 9 years old at the time...30 was old...

But alas, 39 might be worse.  I don't want to be 40 or 41 through 49...My 30's were awesome, contrary to what I thought it would be like.  You really find out who you are in your 30's, but with fewer mistakes.  You know what I learned best, the word, "NO!"  No, I am not going to another baby shower (you had one with your first kid - and that is all you get in my book), instead I am sending a gift off the registry.  (SIDEBAR:  Never veer from the registry.)  Don't be that person.  In my 20's, I said, "YES" to everything.
You want to go to happy hour?  Yes.
Do you want to go to a concert when it is 105 degrees outside?  Yes.
Do you want to buy stuff you don't need?  Yes.
Do you want to go to a baby shower? Yes.

I wore my damn self out with Yes.  I couldn't say no.  I wanted to go to everything, see everything and do everything, and I was going to fit it ALL in.

When I look back, it makes me laugh.  Now, I am like nope - I went to happy hour yesterday.  No, it's too damn hot.  No, I don't need new crap.  No, I am sending a gift.  NO, NO, NO.

I know what you are thinking.  This is one bitter chick.  It's not the case.  I consider myself a happy person.  Now, would I like all the stars in my life to align?  Sure, who doesn't?  It never happens that way.  So now, I am in my 30's, my job is great.  Did you hear that?  I am shocked too.  Maybe it is because I am not the youngest, and I am not the oldest, I am in the sweet spot.  I can speak up now. But still not like my dad or anyone else 55 and older.  That will be my next phase.  I can shoot my damn mouth off and if they don't like it, I will up and retire.  55, and I am out!!!  I don't have that luxury just yet.  I don't want to make any career ending moves...My top 5 doesn't believe I will stop working.  I can't wait until they are WRONG!

OK, now to the good part.  At work, we got a new analyst on our account.  Here are the sad and shocking stats:

His nickname is Bambi (given by me)
This is his first job out of college
He lives with his parents
He has no wrinkles or gray hair
He does not get my movie quotes, which is heartbreaking
He can eat ANYTHING and not gain weight.  *more on that later...
He wants to change the world
He likes everyone
He is probably smarter than I was at 23
He was born...gulp...in 1993.  FREAKING 1993.  A tear rolls down my face when I do the math and realize I was 16.  How did this happen?  Literally, I was the youngest in my industry...Not anymore.

Bambi can eat a large cup of ice cream from Cold Stone Creamery, every.damn.night.

He went home for the week and lost weight.  I had to refrain from choking him out...  I am trying to make it to Shark week so I can have a small ice cream.  His day is coming...Just wait until his pants don't fit.  Dress pants aren't cheap my friends...

The morale of this is that I don't want to turn 40.  The End.

2016 in Review (I was busy!)

Once upon a time, I guess I had a busy 2016.  So this is the dating recap edition.  Consider it like the show Entertainment Tonight - is that even on?

So...I gave up dating FOREVER or for most of the year of 2016.  I completely got off all dating websites.  I did go on a couple dates in the spring of 2016, in St. Louis as a matter of fact, but naturally, I found the guy who didn't have it together.  Are you surprised?  You shouldn't be!  I have a trackers beam for that...Prior to our date - his car didn't start.  Honestly, I am a girl that believes in the cup being half full, but that day may soon be coming to an end.  Instead of thinking oh, I am sure it's just a dead battery...I SHOULD be thinking, cancel this freaking date - RED FLAG!!!  As I say that, 2017 is a new year and well although I had a long break, I figured if I don't try, I shouldn't be complaining.  SIDEBAR - but seriously, can a girl get some recommendations from her friends?

So I read up on some dating sites and honestly, I feel like I may have tried them all.  Some of you may think - well it's you.  WRONG - as Donald Trump would say!  Dating is a numbers game plain and simple...or you can settle.  Here is a short recap of my opinion on dating sites:

Christian Mingle: If you want to find a man here, you better be living at a church or at least attending services on Wednesdays, Fridays and twice on Sundays.  I believe in GOD, and I am not weird.

EHarmony:  This website is just hard to navigate or it was last time I looked at it.  I did meet the Stage 5 Clinger on here, and that was about it.  I do know 2 other people who found their soulmates on this site, so it works for some.

POF (Plenty of Fish):  I went through a phase of not paying for stuff and wound up here.  I met someone, who in my opinion, wasted 1 year and 7 months of my life.  He couldn't hold down a job, he had no savings plan, and he tried to take my spirit.  Thank goodness for self-esteem.

OK Cupid:  I met a guy here too - he was a hipster that lived in Dallas.  He took me on an awesome first date and this place that overlooked the city.  Man, I was so excited.  He dressed nice, had something to say.  Then, he cooked me dinner in his 1 bedroom apartment...and I then got the whole story...He can stay and gentrify that area without me.

Match.com: I have tried this a couple times.  I always get the weird guy.  I went to Plano for a date at Seasons 52, before knowing this guy looked nothing like his picture, was in his 50's, and this restaurant is for card-carrying AARP members.  Oh and he was late and drank bud light.  I did learn some valuable lessons on this one - I am not driving past Grapevine.  I am not driving in a monsoon past Grapevine.  If you are 15 minutes late - I am just walking out.  I am not waiting.  I am leaving.  I don't care if this makes me a bitch.  My time is valuable and I could be spending it with people I like.

Bumble: So I read about this one from @crazyjewishmom on Instagram.  This crazy mom is always trying to set up her daughter and get her to have kids.  So the hook is that you match with some dudes, and you can swipe right or left.  Then the woman makes contact and then you can go from there.  Listen - I can only ask so many questions.  I am a strong, independent woman, but at the same time old fashioned in that I would like the guy to ask me to go out.  Is that so hard to ask?  I mean, I am daring and would most likely say yes.  I mean I don't have to marry anyone after one date unless I am on a reality show...Wait, I should probably be on a reality show...

Hater: So my lovely Italian friend found this one in a twitter article and said I should try it, and you know I was like yep - I am on it.  The premise is to swipe on what you hate vs what you like.  You match with people by a percentage.  It is like finding love by having in common what you hate.  I am pretty sure my soulmate hates: crocs, the word M---- (you know I don't even like to write it), sitting on the same side of the booth at a restaurant, mornings, and those are just a few...My friend is convinced this will be my happily ever after.

So basically the only ones I have left are OUR TIME, which might work out since I am currently working in Florida in God's waiting room.  I mean I could Anna Nicole it and find a rich man with a yacht!  There is JDate, which is for people who are Jewish and I am not.  There is Zoosk, which I don't really know much about....

Well that is your recap.  Enjoy!

The End.

Part Duex

Once upon a time, I has a pretty good date with this guy.  We will call him Jason Bourne.  He speaks 6 languages.  French, German, and like 4 more.  Plus he is like a black belt in Jujitsu and craw magraw, or whatever it is.  Regardless, he probably knows the "judo chop."   On top of that, he has a Ph.D.  Yesterday, he told me it was from Germany and first response was, does it even count?  I know, I am terrible.  He was also an Army Ranger.  All of which, he has accomplished by 32.  After hearing all that, I had to give myself a pep talk.  Ironically, today, I read an article online about how one should not compare themselves to others even though it is basically human nature.  Well that article came 1 day too late.  I realize we have different experiences and all that, but dang.

Fast forward to the conversation that happened last night.  We are chatting about this and that, and he was telling me about sparring with this guy at the gym and I was telling him about some work drama. So then the topic moves to football and he says, we should watch the Tech vs OU game this weekend.  I can come over to your house and cook Carolina BBQ.  Ex-squeeze me, a baking powder? I immediately blurted out, what not at your house?  But in my mind, I was like, um, this would be like our second date...He said well, I don't have a TV.  Am I in the Twilight Zone?  Is it 2015?  Who doesn't have a TV?  My mind was racing.  He then asks if I like spicy BBQ or sweet, and if anyone knows me, it's sweet.  Spicy reeks havoc on my body the next day.  My friend with the silky smooth hair used to be my spicy food tester at lunch.  She saved me many a day of stomach deterioration.  So while he is telling me the ingredients, I am off thinking:

Who is purchasing these ingredients?  Who is preparing this?  Do I have any propane and propane accessories?  I would have to clean the house.  I am not doing dishes!  What kind of BBQ?  Will there be beer to accompany this BBQ?

Fast forward to the weekend.  So on Friday, he calls and I am not available, So later he texts me and says, what are your plans after hockey?  Well it was a birthday party for my friend with silky smooth hair.  I mean, the BBQ idea was gone and now he is calling to see if I am available the next day. Sometimes on a fluke I am available, but usually not.  Sunday is my free and chill day.

Fast forward to yesterday.  I talk to him and he tells me he is going "across the pond" as he puts it to go fight people in Europe.  For 3 weeks.  Alrighty...

Gold Status

Once upon a time, I got a new job.  Well it's not that new anymore,  but I am only 7 months in.  This job requires travel, which I am perfectly fine with.  I've been traveling to...wait for it...Oklahoma City.  If you haven't been here, but you have been to Texas, it's about the same, only smaller.  A big focus seems to be the perks of travel (according to my colleagues) and this is the part when I tell you that I have reached GOLD status at the Marriott. 

I have almost 100,000 points already.  With a Marriott credit card and 3 nights a week in a Marriott for the last 12 weeks,  you accumulate points pretty quickly.  I think I get free internet access now too.  I am almost to GOLD on American Airlines.  I don't know what perk that is going to get me, other than boarding before the commoners.  I literally live in the back of a plane.  It has made me extremely patient when de-boarding.  I mean, you can't really plow to the front, although I have imagined it in my mind.  I have a learned a few things while working in Oklahoma.  People like you to ask how their weekend was.  They like friendly people, which I typically am.  The mullet hasn't left.  I saw a woman with tennis shoes on with pantyhose and flash-backed to the 80's.  When I first arrived, I was pretty much hoping to meet a rich oil man who would allow me to live the life of leisure, similar to my mom.  Alas, I did meet an MMA fighter, who looks like "The Thing" from the fantastic 4 made of all rock.  Sadly, he has a girlfriend.  This said girlfriend has 4 children.  The hunt continues...plus, he is basically the boss of me.  He reminds me a little of Vin Diesel, and hence that is what I shall call him, Vin, to protect the innocent, plus he is a lot more intelligent.  

However, if he pulls up in a muscle car, I know I would die laughing on the street, especially if he ever recites the following, "I don't have friends, I have family," or "I live my life a quarter mile at a time. Nothing else matters, not the mortgage, not the store,  not my team, and all their bullshit,  For those 10 seconds or less, I am free."  That would totally be fine if I were 23.  The most amusing part, was when someone here at the client site spotted us doing something suspicious such as walking, talking, attending meetings and eating lunch.  We weren't inter-locking arms and drinking champagne flutes in the food court, although that would make my afternoon fly by if we did.  This mystery person told Vin's girlfriend.  You know what I felt?  Absolutely no guilt.  I have not crossed any line, except maybe buying him a brass knuckle mug as a thank you.  Regardless, we aren't planning a trip to a bed and breakfast.  

So back at the ranch, (my house), I have decided to take up dating again.  It sounds like a hobby doesn't it?  Do you feel like this is a revolving door?  Yea, me too, and it's my life.  My running buddy, gave me some advice and it was to try.  Maybe she happened to have good timing, because that weekend, I signed up for Match.com, and then a few weeks later, Coffee Meets Bagel, and then Tinder.  I figured I might as well hit it hard.  Go big or go home as they say.  I think this was in like June.  Fast forward to October when I actually get some dudes in the queue.  It takes time to fill a pipeline or it takes me time to fill a pipeline.  So I meet one guy on Coffee Meets Bagel.  He is a teacher that looks crazy.  His crazy, is what I found amusing and flattery will get you everywhere with me.  So he texted me and then texted me some more.  That is the conclusion of this story.  That's all she wrote.  Text messaging.  Then, it just stopped.  I tried.  I did.  But at this point, I really need someone to make an effort with me.  A time, a place, a plan for crying out-loud.   When I make an effort, it seems like I am the only one making the effort, and I am plum worn out.  Maybe my typical, I am all in, is what is sabotaging my relationships.  Maybe I just need to be harder to get. So Bagel has missed the boat with me.  If he were to text me again, I might even text back, "who dis?"  I am tempted, really tempted.  

Onto the next guy, he showed promise early on.  He has a similar job to me, where he travels during the week.  It has to do with some hospital equipment and wiring.  Literally, he has talked about it to me for several hours of my life and I am still not sure exactly what he does.  It also appears he works with less than competent people.   Some of the perks in the beginning included that he seemed financially sound.  He even bought some land on Lake Texoma...for his art supplies.  Imagine a car screeching to a stop.  Art supplies?  What?  Next question, do you like sports, specifically hockey?  No...a little part of me died that day.  If you know me, then you know I need a guy's guy.  The perks started to fade for me.  Add the following: his brother lives with him because he is divorced, he is 47, which is 10 whole years older than me, and his voice reminds me of a character from the Simpsons.  I am not trying to be mean, but once the voice is in your head, it's in your head.  Fast forward, he asks me to dinner.  I say yes.  I made myself a rule of you can go on one damn date Diana.  One date won't kill you.  Fast forward to said date.  I hardheartedly put forth first date effort.  I curled my hair, put my face on, and did not pick out jeans.  SIDEBAR: Once upon a time, I assumed the date would be jeans worthy (back in college) and I failed...and I failed miserably.  Henceforth, I overdress unless it is discussed prior.  I had a lovely blue silk shirt and some flow-y pants, matched with flat shoes.  SIDEBAR:  I am wearing heels from now on.  I can't help I drank enough milk as a kid.  This fool showed up in an olive green knitted t-shit.  It didn't have a front pocket or a clever saying, not that that would have made it acceptable, but I would have been at least amused.  He also wore jeans, and even in my flat shoes, I was taller.  FAIL.  5'11 my ass.  We went to Pappadeaux.  He gets no points for creativity.  NONE.  Goose egg for him.  However, I ran 11 miles, let me  rephrase that, I was dragged 11 miles that morning.  I would have eaten a snapping lobster out of the tank with my bare hands at that point.  

I got blackened Mahi Mahi with dirty rice (the smaller portion).  He gets stuffed shrimp of which he eats with his hands.  There is a fork and knife nearby, but hell, it's a first date, pretend you are eating chicken wings, what do I care?  He talked about work, I nodded.  We order dessert (I burned 5,000 calories, stop judging me), and he talks about work.  I check my watch, he talks about work.  Then he goes, "are you ready to go?"  I'll be damned if the ceiling didn't open at that very moment and church music started to play.  I snap to and he walks me to my car.  I say thank you, hug, and scene!  

Stay Tuned for a new date story...

The End.

It's Always Something

Once upon a time, I started to get a cold.  I am super mad about this because I got the flu shot.  To top things off, I told all the people at work who are sick that I was invincible.   This was probably my downfall.  So what the heck?  Well there are a couple of reasons how this could have happened.

1) the flu shot is b.s.
2) my gaybor infected me
3) sick people come to work
4) I ran out of my multivitamins 3 days ago...and here we are.

I really hate being sick.  I hate that I am always out of the good tissue my mom gets me.  It's the one with lotion.  Yes...I too thought, it wouldn't make a difference.  But, it does.  If you have to blow your nose 1 million times, the lotion makes it tolerable.  I am always out of chicken soup.  ALWAYS.  Why don't I stock up on this?  Because when I get better, I don't need soup and I think, well I am all better.  Ta da. I am also out of out of the over the counter medicine or it is expired.  I just found some ZICAM that expired in 2012.  Really?  I could have sworn I had some Dayquil or something, but no.

It gets worse.  TRAGEDY STRUCK...so I go to the fridge to get something to drink and my foot is wet.  I am like hmmm.  What did I spill?  But it looks like a moat around the front of my fridge.  Well the damn freezer is not working.  How do I know?  Well the Popsicle are dripping, the food is half thawed and I am swearing up a storm.  I am literally a few hundred dollars from being totally out of debt.

I call my gaybor, the funny one, and he was like you can't refreeze that stuff or you will  basically die.  So now I have to cook a massive amount of food.  For starters, 3 chicken breasts, and like 24 veggie sausages, shrimp, spinach and green beans.

Seriously?

NOW, I have to look for a new fridge.  Luckily the freezer is the part not working.  I went through several envelopes of money and well I have about half of what I need in cash.  I am just mad.

It's always something.  I mean, why couldn't the freezer break AFTER my bonus comes?  That would be too easy!

Like I said, it's always something...

The End.

A Little Reflection...

Once upon a time...they say, some years are better than others.  I don't know who says that, but I know I've heard it.  The saying is rather accurate for me.  This year started off alright, not great, but all right.  I started a new job, I booked a trip to the Dominican Republic, I had a break up, and those were the highlights.  My motivation is blah.  

Work is work.  Being in the HR field has taught me that, I hate people.  I told my co-worker that.  It is gratifying to help someone and see that you made a difference.  However, I would say most of the time, I am sitting in my office in disbelief because people are ridiculous.  Several people were written up for conduct, or as I like say, "acting a fool."  In what world, does cussing out your boss seem like a good idea?  Some days, I get home and I am out of words.  I have used all the words in that day for me.  I get home and I need an hour for decompression.  I used to ask my dad what he did all day.  He used to say, "I listen to people's problems all day long."  Well I am my father's daughter...

The Dominican was lovely.  I went with Hollywood.  In her, I will always have a travel buddy.  We went deep sea fishing and although I credit myself as having an iron stomach, I was hurling off the side of the boat. I burned my hands and I am not sure I even had to pee the entire day.  I did really like jumping off a cliff into a cave of cold water on an excursion and riding in a dune buggy through a muddy path.  The food was well...terrible.  My stomach was glad to return to the states, which was an emergency trip to Whataburger straight from the airport.    

The break-up was frustrating for a variety of reasons.  Relationships have swells, that go up and down.  However, sometimes I find myself in the same relationship each time.  I guess they call that a pattern.  The last 2 relationships ended at Starbucks.  I think that will remain my "go to" place.  I never felt like I wasn't clear from the start, but as they say, the honeymoon period wears off and reality sets in.  I think the greatest disappointment was that is was just fine with this guy.   I mean, I crafted my words carefully, I had a few main points and I got them all out.  The response was astonishing, it was, "yup, you're right."  As soon as that was said, I was kicking myself for not doing it 6 months earlier, when my gut told me to.  I think sometimes you hang on because of the fear of starting over.  My mom always said, when you find the right one, it won't be work.  I am wondering when that day will come, if at all.   

I have hope of course.  But this next time around...you better bring something to the damn table.  

Naturally, writing about dating should be enticing to my followers in the new year.  I hope to eat some Chilean sea bass, 86 the asparagus...

The End.

What a Woman Wants...

Once upon a time I got a text message.  Here is the website that I would like to share, and then state the female's perspective.

http://www.rooshv.com/its-the-boner-stupid

This article states there is a barrier between the sexes.  I completely agree.  It shares how women are killing the men's boner.

Well men are also killing the big "O" for women!

Let me review some big "O" killers:

• Obesity
• Careerism (assuming the women should work AND take care of the home, but you don't)
• Shaving the entire body thinking women like that (this one doesn't)
• Talking too much about politics
• Calling out women's cooking when she is learning and at least trying to get better at it
• Addiction to iPhones
• Being promiscuous because it's OK for a man to be, but not a woman
• Obsession with 1950's women
• Lack of education

I am sure there are more, but this is a short list.

1. “By eating this cupcake, even though I’m already 20 pounds overweight, will I increase a woman's big "O" or expect her to only eat salads or decrease it? DECREASE.  Put the buffalo wings down.  You should eat a damn salad too!

2. “If I work and buy you nice things then keep working.  DECREASE.  If you want me to cook dinner, keep a house clean and raise children, then make more MONEY so we can survive on 1 salary. YOURS.

3. “If I put on shorts in the middle of winter, will I increase a woman's big "O" or decrease it?” DECREASE. Put some damn jeans on, it's fricking cold outside moron!

4. “If I’m on a first date with a man and I pay and or expect to go dutch, will it increase her big "O" or decrease it?” DECREASE.  Pony up the dough and we might want to pay the next time.  This includes fun dates and travel.

5. “We’re about to have sex but I’m feeling insecure that he thinks he will leave right after and never call. Will saying ‘I don’t usually do this’ increase a woman's big "O" or decrease it?” DECREASE.  Stay and make breakfast.

If a man wants a a good woman, he must cease and desist big "O" killing behaviors and start performing big "O" enhancing behaviors. Many men of the world understand this piece of advice and take care of the woman's car maintenance, open the damn door, and pick up the check.

They say men want a traditional woman, but expect them to work and have two jobs, one outside the home and one maintaining the home.  Men want kids at some point, but they want you to take care of the majority of things, doctor's appointments, sporting events and clothes shopping. Plus, after all of that, they want the refrigerator stocked and a home cooked meal and their dry cleaning picked up and their laundry done.  

I would really like to see a man work 60 hours a week and then also tend to a household and children.  It couldn't be done.  Do you know why?  Men cannot plan.  They don't use a calendar, they don't think ahead, they just expect it.  However, if we would like a bit of help or the ability to stay home, that is a crime.  

Just a thought.  

The End.

How to Make a Friend...

Once upon a time, I was told to write about how to make friends, because for me, it's easy.  I thought, maybe I can do that.

Step 1:

Talk to people.  It's almost like dating.  You have to see if you like that person right?  Or why would you waste your time talking to someone.  I could be at a party and know only the person throwing it and make 5 friends.  I can talk, when I want to.  I can also listen too.  ACTIVELY.  

Step 2:

Find something in common.  So people who tend to be friends, tend to have things in common.  I am from up north, and I tend to gravitate to people who are from the mid-west.  Now I am not saying ALWAYS.  It's just easy to relate to.  I do know some people from the South.  Even some who were born in Texas.  You can pick these people out right away.  They have a draw to their speech and they tell you that Texas is the greatest country ever.  But this person could also go to Asia concerts with you too.  It really doesn't matter, but having things in common makes it easy.  Maybe your favorite phrase is, "SUCK IT."  Maybe their favorite phrase is the same.  Bond!! 

Step 3:

Make a Connection.  Ask for that person's number, face-book, twitter account, email, WHATEVER. Pick one.  If you like this person, and you want to get to know them, then you have to make contact.  

Step 4:

CALL the person.  What?  I know, what a concept.  How are you going to make a friend if you don't make plans? Bingo.  Make some plans.  Go for coffee, a cocktail, a movie.  It's easy.  I swear.

Step 5:

You have a new friend.  So friendship works 2 ways.  You have to call and they have to call.  I find this to be a MUST.  Now, I am going to tell you a few other things about friendship that you will need to know once you make a friend.

Just because you don't talk daily, it doesn't mean you don't have a friend.  I have an old roommate from college and I can go 6 months without talking to her.  But when she calls, or when I call, it's like we have never been apart.  We catch up on each other's lives.  We always call on each other's birthday and send a gift.  While we aren't on the phone, I type and SNAIL mail her letters.  She loves this.  I love to write them.  She says she always sits, and laughs and then emails me.  A friend will get mad at you.  No body is perfect right?  I mean sometimes, even I do dumbass things.  Now let me clarify a little bit.  There are friends, that you have a connection with, and then there are the top 5.  The top 5 is the people in your close circle.  You talk the most, and you probably see them the most.  They are the ones you call when you are sad, call when you wreck your car, and call when you want to stab someone at work just because.  I always have a top 5.  Now some people move in and out of the top 5, but at any given time I have a top 5.  If you want to test that top 5.  Call them when you REALLY need them, and see what happens.

This is the part where I tell you what is supposed to happen!!!

What should happen is they drop whatever, and come to your aid.  They drag you out of the house for a pedicure.  The fly to Kentuckana at the drop of a hat.  They text and call you to make sure you aren't hanging from the ceiling fan.  They take you out for a cocktail or 10, but best of all, they ARE THERE when you need them.  Hands down.  Have a crisis and you will see who stands next to you.  

Why Are We Always in a Hurry?

Doesn't it feel like we are always in a hurry?  I am not talking about just day to day, but in life.  I blame society.  Sometimes I feel like I am so behind.  I am not complaining about my AWESOME life, but sometimes, just sometimes I need to vent a little.  

So this is how it starts...you are in high school.  The first rush to life is this, "have you picked a college?"  The pressure is to go to college and learn something.  The problem is when you get there you don't really know what you are interested in.  Some people do, like the nurses and the doctors, they seem to have it figured out much sooner then the rest of us.  So you go to college and then you have to pick a major.  For me, I didn't pick a major until I was about a junior.  They forced me to pick.  So I picked psychology, because I liked it.  But thankfully my dad said, well if you want to get a job, you better minor in business or something.  At the time, I wanted to work with people and do something to help others.  If I could go back in time, I should have majored in IT or Accounting.  Both really don't deal with people too much, but a little.  At 35, I know EXACTLY what I want.  I want to fly all over the country and tell people what to do, and then they DO IT.  I don't want any employees, I want to  be an individual contributor.  I want to make more dang money.  I know that money doesn't solve the world's problems.  For me, I just want to catch up, catch up with Miss Italian Accountant, my wise friend - Miss Ford Focus, or my dad.    

So you get a job, and you start at the bottom.  You learn that there are stereotypes and politics and bureaucracy.  Nothing prepares you for that.  You walk in idealistic.  You can change the world.  You have the answers.  A good friend of mine, Mrs. Jones (ironic because we both, truly love Bridget Jones' Diary)  She married a Jones, isn't that crazy?  Ok, back to the story, she was and is 5 years older than me.  I met her, and she said to me, "You are so idealistic, I give you 5 years before you become cynical."  At the time, I was a mere 22 and she was 28, on her way to 30.  My boss at the time, treated me like the 4th kid in her family. I hated it, I wanted to be treated like a grown up.   I laughed when she said it to me.  Then, I hit 28, 29 and 30 and I got it.  I really got it.  I wasn't green anymore.  

My next job, is where I loved the people, I was still the youngest in the office.  With that, I brought fun, pranks, and a genuine knowledge of how to treat employees and what a thank you really mean.  My past employees, are people I consider my second family.  I miss them every day that I go to work at my current job.  They were kind, and loyal, and they still are. Eventually, I got bored. Not with the people, with the job itself.  I did lots of different things, and each day was different but I wasn't moving up.  All during this time, one particular Ninja who worked in the warehouse kept asking me, "when are you going to settle down? when are you going to stop partying and have a family and some babies, tick tock, tick tock."  At the time, I was dating the shingle boyfriend, as I like to call him.  He brought nothing to the table.  WHATSOEVER.  My dad literally broke out into painful shingles because he didn't like this guy for me.  In the end, he and my mom were right.  Right again, I should say.  I just hadn't found someone that completed me in the right way.  Everyone I worked with was married, some had 6 dang kids, but there wasn't any prospects for me.  I think I tried every dating tactic known to man.  I combed the gym, the grocery store, the local happy hours, my friends who had friends.  Nothing.  I tried dating online for the better part of a decade.  But at work, I wanted to move up.  Get promoted, run the show.  But I was stuck.  I worked with lots of men, ALL sales men.  

So my gaybors talked me into grad school.  Within the week, I was enrolled.  This should do it, this should catapult me to the top.  I was and am good with people, I am smart, I listen and I have a million good ideas.  Not the one to have my own business yet, but still a bunch of good ideas.  Plus, I had to go to grad school or I would be the black sheep in my immediate family.  Even my brother has a masters in art, of which he doesn't use, and he doesn't paint anymore.

So for me, I want everything to fall into place NOW.  I am tired of waiting.  I am tired of having a job that doesn't make me happy.  I am tired of searching for a job that WILL make me happy.  I am tired of getting up super early and getting home super late.  I am mad at the gym because they don't have classes that work around my schedule.  I miss cycling with Dr. Mom who does it all and keeps me in awe.  When I feel overwhelmed, I think well Dr. Mom does way more than me, so suck it up!  

So finally, finally at the ripe age of 30-something, I met this great guy...he is starting to look like this.  He doesn't have a mustache, because if he did, it might be white.  Remember, he had a gray hair at 10 years old, or so he claims.

So he changed jobs, and that is great, but I am also like HURRY UP!!!  It can be what are we doing this weekend?  and then my demand takes off to where are you going in life?  am I going forward with you? and can you tell me when that will be? A date?  A time? An estimate?  We are taking our first trip to Viva Las Vegas in December.  He has never been.  I am like WHAT?  

I have been given permission from Miss Silky Hair Cowgirl that I can go buck wild.  She is my tall building travel companion.  I mean really wild, because the men will be there to react or make sure we don't end up in jail.  I can't guarantee that I won't be dancing on a stage, singing Tom Jones.  I can also not guarantee that I won't be in body glitter for 4 days either. You know body glitter goes with everything especially in Vegas.

So at this point, I guess I am waiting for A VACATION, which will have to do for now...

Mom = AWESOME, and You Better RECOGNIZE!

Once upon a time, I came to the realization that being a mom is a hard job.  Perhaps I never full appreciated until NOW.  So my mom is the ideal picture of what a mom should be (in my opinion).  This is her below...well close enough.

Now my mom is a cross between June Cleaver and Martha Stewart.  That is what I tell people.  A few things you should know about MY mom.  She always has her face on,  unless she is deathly ill.  She is an exquisite cook, although I have no talent in the art, but read the cook book she gave me like the Bible of the kitchen.  She is smart, independent and sweet like honey.  She is creative and crafty, which I am also not.  Now, currently she is a lady of leisure, which I strive to be and which after yesterday, she has definitely earned.  However, she is always there when you need someone to visit the house at some ridiculous window of 12PM-5PM.  She has saved me on many occasions.  Plus, she has already decorated her house for Halloween.  I think I would CRY if she ever stopped.

Now just recently, my boyfriend had his daughters to my house.  I was paying one of them to scrape glue off my hardwood living room floor.  That is an entirely different story however.  So then, I hear, "I am hungry..."  I am like oh yea, kids have to be fed.  Then, the panic sets in.  I have basically wine, mayo and yogurt in the fridge, not really much for a meal.  So I run down a couple options.  Taco Soup, Chicken ala King...Basically my 5 meals that I can cook well.  They squint, and pause and groan.  I am like SANDWICHES or better yet panini's.  You really can't go wrong with a sandwich.  So guess who is going to the store?  I tell the lovely boyfriend that I will pick up Chicken, Pesto and some ice cream.  Does the lovely boyfriend offer any funds?  No.  Do I care? Well not until the end when I have $6.00 for the week...but that comes later.  So I tell him I am going to head to Albertson's.  He sighs and says their chicken is kinda eh.  I almost had to choke him out.  I only chose that store because it is next to the Marble Slab where I had just then purchased a groupon to pick up some fancy ice cream.  He is a cake-eater about food and only shops at Costco.  I can often get a few things there, but I don't grocery shop there unless its for 2 things I need in great quantity 1) WINE, 2) I am having a damn party with a minimum of 10 people.

So the boyfriend cooks some bacon in the oven.  So I run to the store in hurry.  Forget band-aids and kitty food which is what I really need to get.  But when you are in a hurry, those things are a second though.  So I get the food, SIDEBAR: see Apple Cider, pick that up because it's fall and I LOVE IT.  Then I head to the ice cream store, pick  up a ridiculous amount of ice cream because the neighbors might come over, (BUT THEN THEY DO NOT).  Which actually is fine by the end of the evening.  I come home, pull out tortas (fancy, stiff bread) out of the freezer, and begin to prep.  I am thawing bread.  Then, I said are you ready to grill the chicken, boyfriend states, "yes," then I am the one pulling out the grill.  WHAT?  So I cut open the chicken and he is in the spice cupboard and he is pulling out the lemon pepper.  He was like, "how old is this?"  The cake-eater returns.  I am like it's old, what I don't tell him is that is about 8 years old and you don't really buy spices when you don't cook.  I have the important spices, Cajun whatever, and GARLIC.  Oh and food coloring.  Who doesn't love food coloring???  I digress.  So I find some steak seasoning that is relatively fresh, and by that I mean about a 1 year old or so, give or take.  He dumps the lemon pepper and uses that.  Now, since the bacon was cooking, the house was hot, and smells like Mineral Spirits a lovely chemical of death.  So the chicken cooks, oh and I also got a bonus package of chicken.  Not on purpose, but the idiot check out guy was hurrying me and apparently wanted the fastest scan time in all the land, so when I was ready to go, I grabbed the bags and dashed out.  Well I got someone's family pack of chicken...

So anyways, I am prepping the sandwiches and I had also picked up some candy for the girls.  They are fighting because they can't seem to share.  I am like yes, I recall this.  And then, THEN, I reflect on my mom.  My poor mom.  I bet she wanted to kill me and my brother half the time.  I mean, at that moment I thought, I should have slapped her a high five for kicking ass at raising me.  She could have choked me.  She didn't.  

So since the girls are hungry, they are secretly snatching bits of bacon which was in a bowl to put on the sandwiches.  I don't really notice, I had a small piece, whatever.  So finally after 3 hours or so the damn chicken is cooked.  Now it is good like always but it was also thick and took a while to cook.  The boyfriend then gripes about my dull knives and cuts like one chicken breast because the other fat ones are still cooking.  (I cut the rest...and try not to think of Slasher Halloween movies in the process)  I prepare the girl's sandwiches first.  Plain.  No pesto, no spice, nothing.    So I make one and cut it in half, bring out the chips and put it on the table which I have expanded.  Then the fighting begins.  I am like just split it and then when the next one is ready, you can split that.  Good grief.  Oh and don't worry, there is no bacon for the last 2 sandwiches...So they don't sit at the table but are up and about.  Whatever.  Then the lovely boyfriend threatens them and that if one doesn't sit down, he will eat the sandwich.  So of course that happens and you would have thought we were about to go though a shortage of food like the depression.  She is whining...again.  So the older sister gives her hers and then what happens, you guessed it.  They eat like half of the half of sandwich.  Awesome.  They leave their plates at the table and go back to using their smart device...Meanwhile, I am finishing the third sandwich and the boyfriend is now eating without me.  This is a cardinal sin in my book.  You don't do that.  He realizes it, apologies, but it's too late.  I am hot, irritated and no longer hungry.  I remember when my mom would cook and she would be tasting what she was making and then by the end, not be hungry.  That is where I was.  But maybe, just maybe, it was because she was irritated and wanted to kill us...I was quiet and mad, and the man knew it.  He is pretty gracious with what can he do better?  But by then, I had to really think.  Am I crabby, tired and mad?  Or do I need to start World War III.  Eh, I went with tired.  I cleaned the entire kitchen, scrubbed dishes and loaded the dishwasher.  BEATING.  What happened to I cook and you clean?  

So the kit and caboodle leave and the man calls me and what happened?  He forgot the organic chemistry book (don't ask), the leftover sandwiches, and the Red box movie.  Then he said, yea, can drop that off, referring to the movie.  It was like re-igniting the fire.  I got off the phone shortly after.  Then, I was up.  I was awake, so I watched some TV, then more TV, and then I really couldn't sleep.  I had a hangry headache (DEFINITION OF HANGRY: ANGER FUELED BY HUNGER).  So needless to say, this girl needed a day off.  The morale of the story is this, being a MOM must be tough.  I am not a mom, but now I sympathize a bit.  I should call my mom and thank her for not killing me as a kid.  She's great.  

The End.

The Worst Boss EVER

Once upon a time there was a girl deemed the smartest girl in Bedford, TX.  Well this poor girl got a new job in 2012 with all of the highest hopes in the world.  Quite honestly, she was just happy to have a job and pay her mortgage.  So this is where the story begins.  You see, she got a government job.  The benefits seems great, everyone was nice, the pay was pretty good, BUT, and that's a big BUT, it should have started at 500,000 with what she learned she was about to be putting up with.  *Evil horror movie music starts here, actually picture the shower scene from Psycho*  

There were some immediate downfalls. 

Downfall #1

The office is FAR, and not far in mileage, but FAR in how long I would have to sit in traffic.  Now, don't get me wrong, I don't drive too much or there would be dead bodies on 183E and then more dead bodies on I35E.   I am guessing I would probably lose my CHL and then they would haul me to Prison, and my friends would only be able to see me on Lock Up, the show on MSNBC Friday through Sunday.  (If you haven't seen, you will need to tape some of that action).  I take the train and pretend I live in a real city like Chicago or New York.  Luckily, it is a good time to read books and escape the dread of going to work, and then it becomes a calm place when leaving this horrible nightmare of a job.  So on top of the longest commute in the history of the world, I have to get up at the crack of dawn for.

Downfall #2

I sit in a cube where the walls aren't high enough.  It's like half walls, so everyone can see me and everyone can talk and you are just stuck in the middle.  I have no door to close, or rather no door to slam in someone's face.  

Downfall #3

There is no expense account, so I thought I came from a place where we couldn't spend too much money because it was always tight, here you literally can't spend a dime.  If you do spend a dime, it's your dime. 

Downfall #4

The attire is business.  Who does that anymore?  Oh hey, go get a suit and some panty house because it's 1970 around here.  I mean the only break you get is the summer, and I am guessing because it's 1,000 degrees out.  Or perhaps someone just dropped over of heat stroke from wearing a Men's Warehouse suit, who knows!  What I know is that I think panty hose are stupid. 

So all of that was pretty shocking to me.  But, what shocked me the most was MY boss, or should I say, the boss I think I report to right now.  The Heat Meizer.  My friend, we will call her, African Queen, painted the best picture ever.  She showed me a video and basically that describes her.  She wears linen, like a lot, it's the most wrinkled fabric known to man, or at least to me.  As soon as you sit down one time, it's like you need to bust out an iron.  I am not sure why she chooses that, but she has an entire outfit in fluorescent yellow.  

Manager 101 Flaw #1

But besides the linen, she refuses to let anyone make a single decision without HER consent.  I mean, last time I checked, I knew how to make a decision.  So what is terrible is that this has been beat into the employees and now they can't do ANYTHING without asking her.  What happened to empowering your employees to make a decision and think for themselves?  If you do something without telling her or "keep her in the loop", she raises her voice at you.  This happened once.  I then informed her I understood she was mad, but I wasn't afraid of her.  It's like this overall feeling in the office that everyone cowers to her.  I don't get it.  She is just a person. 

Manager 101 Flaw #2

She has a hierarchy system, basically like Royalty in the 17th century.  I mean, she treats hourly employees terrible, like she is better than them and that they don't deserve to be in the same room as her.  It is horrible.  I mean, why would you treat people that way?  Not everyone has the same opportunities.  Plus, it doesn't mean they aren't smart.  Everyone is NOT cut out for college, but end up just fine in the world.  She only speaks to people who have formal education.  I just think that is plan wrong.   What I find ironic, it they are always the ones that save your ass.  I mean, they know the system, they know other people in different departments.  Plus, they happen to be pretty technical, while the advanced managers are often not.  So why for heaven's sake would you talk down to someone that can help you if you just simply asked with a please and a thank you? 

Manager 101 Flaw#3

She wants change, but doesn't change anything.  Just because it has been done that way for the last 100 years doesn't mean it is the best thing going forward.  You can present a million great ideas or things to implement efficiency and she will either ignore it or it will get lost in her office, never to be seen again. 

The morale of this story is FIND ANOTHER JOB...and I plan to.

The End.

The Boyfriend Effect

Once upon a time, I finally found a boyfriend (cheers are allowed).  So it's almost like when you tell people, they say one of two things, 1) AWE, great!  or 2) Finally, dude.  It's really a toss up.  I mean, I consider myself a good catch, but it appears that I am the lucky one.  So let me tell you why and give you some examples.  First, he is a friendly guy, here is a picture of good ol' Jimmy.  He would kill me if he knew that is the name I gave him in my blog.  Well it was that or Giovanni.  Well whatever, I am the blogger.  

Ok, so that really isn't him.  Put this is how I kinda picture him, since he is in sales.  He basically can make this same gesture and it's spot on.  However, I noticed that when I introduced to him to a few of MY people, they would facebook friend him.  Now you are like Diana, so what?  He sits back and lets the new friends roll in.  You know what, YOU'RE WELCOME!  Then, my parents, I actually asked my dad, hey who is the last guy you liked, that I introduced  you to?  Brent *names have been changed to protect the innocent X-boyfriends of my life*  I mean basically, my parents haven't liked anyone I dated since HIGH SCHOOL!  Hello.  What happened?  I said, oh hey I am going to date a bunch of douchbags for 17 years.  Apparently so.  They do, however, like Jimmy.  FINALLY, dude.  (see I say it too, sometimes.)  

So then the compliments roll in, "oh, he is so well mannered", "oh, he is so handsome with good hair", "oh he has a lovely smile", "oh he cooks, how did you luck out?"  Well I PICKED him, damn it.  Where is the credit going?  I mean he didn't show up on my front door.  I had to SEARCH.  I mean, yes, my past record hasn't been great.  BUT, I weeded those fools out.  I have kept my standards, anticipating that I would find Mr. Right.  So there you go.  I am pretty clear on the fact that I can't cook.  So hence since he loves to cook, I love to enjoy and sample that good cooking, plus I do clean up people!  He's taller than me.  Well folks, I didn't wake up yesterday and go, oh hey, I am so tall I think I will date a short guy so I can feel like the Amazon chick I am EVERY OTHER DAY OF THE YEAR!   I mean my friends make me feel like that because they are all 5 foot nothing.   I have used these important tools to design what I am looking for.  Now he isn't perfect, but that is for another day and another blog.

Now I will tell you this.  I can tell you that I do truly appreciate him, because, I dated all those douchebags, and when you have been through that fun, you will truly savor the day you meet someone sweet and caring.  It's like going to the path of righteousness in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.  "Only the penitent will pass."  I swear, I am Indiana Jones, and I have to go through all these little tests to get to the cup, which might be Jimmy.  It's just a comparison, don't get nuts now.  I happen to reference 80's movies, so get on board.  Miss Hollywood gets it, so you should too.  

Just remember all the great things he is getting.  Here, I will help you with a list:
1) NOT crazy
2) Has a job (if you can call it that)
3) Blonde with no split ends, and TALL
4) Hilarious, thoughtful and friendly
5) Financially responsible
6) Brilliant

I mean, it's a wonder it took this long.  

The End.

The Great Divide

I just recently had a conversation with my co-workers in regards to manners and respect.   We know that manners differ around the world, but we forget that they also differ from region to region within the United States, too.

I was thrown into the North verses South debate of whether or not to say “Yes, ma’am,” and “No, Sir.” Southerners are adamant and I mean that to the fullest extend of the word, that this shows good manners and respect when both adults and kids use it. While Northerners use please and thank you a lot as well as other polite expressions including “Sure” or “No problem”—we can’t bring ourselves to add the “Ma’am” or the “Sir.”  I consider myself a person with good manners.  I do say thank you A LOT, and I am quite sure I am the 'Princess' of written thank you notes. 

I have also read that northerners have said not to say “Yes, Ma’am,’ or “No Sir” as “it sounded subservient.”  I tend to agree.  However, I am in the South and I accept that it is a sign of respect. 
Good manners or subservient? Is this what it boils down to? After listening to lots of “Yes, ma’ams” throughout my life, it has became both familiar and pleasant. None the less, truth be told, it is difficult for me in turn to say “Yes, ma’am” and “No, Sir.” It would take longer than twenty years for me to adopt. 

So who’s right? Well no one. Just as it’s good manners to slurp your noodles in Japan or to belch after a meal in Taiwan, no one is right and no one is wrong. Different people with different histories, traditions and culture develop different rules.

So what’s the answer? Please don’t judge us too harshly when we don’t say “Yes, ma’am” or “No, Sir”! 
As for respect, and titles, I might see things a little different.  Now my close friends who have kids, have their children call me 'Your highness'.  Actually that would be awesome.  However, they call me Miss Diana.  My God-kids call my Diana, which makes no difference to me.  However, in my work environment, I call people by their first name.  They are people that I work with.  I mean no disrespect, but I see it as we are even.  We work in the same environment.  I will call you by your first name whether you are 22 or 62.  I really don't see any issue with that. 

HOWEVER, the ladies I work with insist that you put a Ms. or Mr. in front of people that are your elder.  For me, it depends on the situation.  It also depends on how I am introduced.  If I only know you as Mr. Johnson, then I will tend to just call you that, unless corrected.  Now my man (yep- do you see how I stuck that in, like it was totally natural?) has a mother that happens to be 92. (long story) I recently got her a birthday card.  I was torn as to whether I should call her Ms. Williams or Helen of Troy (but she isn't from Troy, but some po-dunk town you haven't heard of ...I digress).  So I went with Ms. Helen.  I am an adult.  I respect her so that is why I added the Ms, well that and she is 92.  Now this man of mine (see - there is a little ownership there but not too much like he is my property), he calls my parents Mike and Carol, (yep - like the Brady Bunch).  I don't care, and I am sure they don't care.  I mean, this smart ass guy would tell you they are just happy there is a man around.  (SIDEBAR - Yes, I am grateful because I dated a lot of frogs, but I know I am the best thing he has EVER found, and I know this because he once told me he was waiting for 'crazy'...I might be the first one that isn't!!!)

The End.