Monday, February 28, 2005

What can I say-- I'm a nerd!

The Commonly Confused Words Test

My results:

Advanced
You scored 93% Beginner, 93% Intermediate, 81% Advanced, and 72% Expert!
You have an extremly good understanding of beginner, intermediate, and advanced level commonly confused English words, getting at least 75% of each of these three levels's questions correct. This is an exceptional score. Remember, these are commonly confused English words, which means most people don't use them properly. You got an extremely respectable score.

Test statistics:
Compared to users who took the test and are and in your age group:
100% had lower Beginner scores.
100% had lower Intermediate scores.
100% had lower Advanced scores.
100% had lower Expert scores.
With respect to Beginner, users aged 45 to 49 scored highest.
With respect to Intermediate, users aged 45 to 49 scored highest.
With respect to Advanced, users aged 45 to 49 scored highest.
With respect to Expert, users aged 45 to 49 scored highest.

I'm an English Geek, and perhaps this is proof. Once upon a time I fancied myself a good writer...

Don't say I'm crazy or I'll kick you!

I am planning on using hypnosis for a natural childbirth when I deliver this baby. I don't tell an awful lot of people about it, because they look at me like I have 12 heads. And then a lot of people will try to tell me how crazy I am for wanting a natural childbirth, and then they start in with the labor horror stories. It's almost as if they are feeling bad about not being able to do it without drugs with their own experiences, so they try to undermine my efforts. I'm not sure that most women realize they are doing it, but its cruel. I am trying to talk myself into being able to say to people who start in on me, "Look, I am planning a beautiful birth experience for myself and my baby, and I would appreciate your support rather than your negative feedback. If you can't tell me any positive stories, we will need to change the subject." This will be very hard for me to do, as I am a chicken-shit. I'm sure what will happen is that I will grit my teeth through a bunch of people's stories, and finally blow my top from holding it in so long on the last unsuspecting person to bring it up. Poor girl.

I am really excited, because I just got my homestudy course in the mail. I am excited to get started with it. I wish there was someone in Utah who taught this particular technique, but so far I have been unable to find anyone. Maybe it will go so well with me that after the baby is born I will be inspired to get certified to teach it.

Friday, February 25, 2005

Announcing....


Looks like it's gonna be Robin Rae!

Feel the rage

I have put off posting because I wanted people to vote in my last post. I was so proud that I figured out how to stick that poll in there! (Even though it left a monster gap in the post that I couldn't figure out how to fix...) I guess that in order to get some votes would require that people actually visit my site! Thanks to the four of you who did vote, and thanks for your comments (Although it doesn't help the decision any, because now the vote is tied). It probably doesn't matter anyways; after my appointment this afternoon, it may be a moot point. My loyal fans here will be the 2nd to know the outcome! (I got my sister-in-law to take The Boy while we are at the Dr.; she will demand to know first when we go to pick him up. Sorry.)

My kid is sick today. He's been meeping and whining at my feet all morning, so I've done nothing but carry him around. Even Teletubbies didn't distract him for long. I've been alternating between feeling so sad and sorry for him, and wanting to sell him to the gypsies. And of course that makes me feel all guilty, which in turn makes me weepy. Stupid pregnant hormones! I HATE YOUR FREAKIN' GUTS!

I have a lot of rage, too. Can you tell? That reminds me of the first time I was pregnant:

I was working full time still, and at 3 or 4 months pregnant I was more hormonal than the entire jr. high down the street. So maybe I snapped at a few people. Most people understood. Oh, but not my supervisor. She called me into her office, and told me I was being unprofessional. She said that they don't pay me as much as they do (as if!!) for me to be acting like this. She said people were walking on eggshells around me. Of course, I immediately started crying. I apologized, and said that I was just so out of control, and could feel myself saying things and getting so angry, but I just couldn't stop it from coming out. I reminded her that I was pregnant and sick, and having a hard time with the changes going on with me.
Her response? "I had cancer and was dying, and I managed to still be nice to people." For a therapist, she sure doesn't know how to talk to people. If she was really good at her job, she would have realized that I needed sympathy and kindness and understanding, not her bitching at me. She lost not only my trust then, but I have also hated her ever since. Oh, and the real kicker? Not 2 weeks after this incident, she hired someone new. My desk was right outside her office, and she sat and told the new person--with her door wide open and me listening!-- that "this is not an office that tolerates a lot of childishness. We won't let it just slide here. Just recently I had to talk to another employee about her mood swings; but we worked it all out because we communicated about it."
IN HER MOFO DREAMS!! That communication was all ONE WAY, bee-yotch. And NO, it wasn't worked out! If it had actually been "worked out", as you say, then I would still respect you and possibly like you. You really screwed the pooch on that one. I was SO EFFING MAD! Why didn't she just pull me into her office with the new person and tell her, "Becky here was really being an ass, but I fixed that!"
And then she was surprised and sad when I told her I didn't want to work for her anymore after the baby was born. Hmmmm... know what? GO TO HELL! Perhaps if you'd shown the slightest bit of understanding, instead of telling me what a GODDESS you were for surviving cancer whilst being a mofo SAINT, I would still be cleaning up your messes and making you look good. I'm glad you got a 3rd rate secretary to replace me! I hope she's at least nice to you, because that's all that apparently matters!!

Okay, rant over. Know what? So is this post.

Later.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

A rose by any other name (except for Stenchblossom) would smell as sweet

Friday at 1:30 I have to drink a quart of water--an ungodly amount--and then sit around for an hour, with a baby jumping up and down on my bladder, mind you, and then I'll be having an ultrasound. I hope the jerks at the hospital don't make me wait past the time my appointment is, or I'll pee all over the waiting room floor as sweet, sweet revenge.

But anyways. The point is, come Friday, assuming the little alien is in the right position, we will hopefully find out if we're having a boy or a girl. (Oh, and if it's got all its limbs or nine heads or whatnot.) My gut tells me it is a girl. if that's the case, she will be Robin Rae. If it's a boy...well... we're in for some trouble. We just can't agree on any boy names. We took a long time to decide on Aiden for the first lil' critter; and then come to find out Aiden is one of the top 10 names the last couple of years. Had I known then! Dammit, we picked a FAD NAME, and I couldn't be more pissed. I thought I was being so cool!

I came up with a new list of boy names that won't make me puke, just in case. And I ran them through this kick-ass website. Turns out, many of the names that appeal to me are gaining popularity again, and it makes me want to barf. I don't want my kid to grow up with a fad name. I don't want him to have a weirdo name that no one can pronounce either, but I would like it to be sort of different. Because with a last name like Davis-- let's face it, you're always going to be forgettable unless you have a power first name.

Here's your chance to give your imput in the matter:








Help us name the new baby
If its a boy, what should we name him?
Edmund
Jonas
Ellis
Owen
Sam
Eli
Abel
Christian
View Result
Free Web Polls

I know, I know... our list looks like it's straight off the 1880 census. But it's either these names or crap like Hunter or Dakota or Damian. (Sorry if your kid is named one of those... I have a nasty habit of insulting people that way...)

Incidentally, I had a good laugh when I put 'Becky' into the Baby Name Navigator. It was popular in the 60's, but nowadays I might as well be named Bertha for how used it is.

Business of the day

Item 1:
My new haircut DIDN'T take me an hour to figure out this morning, which I'm happy about, and it ACTUALLY looks halfway decent (I still want it fixed, though-- thanks for the suggestions). At least, I THOUGHT it looked halfway decent; but only two people at work have said anything to me about it. You might not think that is a big deal, but in an office of ALL WOMEN, and a social service office at that--where we are trained to be sensitive and crap-- if no one notices (or at least says anything) it is BAD NEWS. This could mean two things: It looks SO BAD that no one wants to say anything at all; or that it looks so natural on me that everyone thinks that it is the same old me. I think I'm really stretching on that one, though.

Item 2:
Let's discuss haircuts in general, while we're on the topic. Specifically, women and haircuts. It is my impression that women cut their hair when they are at a crossroads in their life. New boyfriend, losing an old boyfriend, new job, new baby, graduating, rut they're trying to get out of... Maybe we are hoping to have a teeny bit of control over a life that seems to be spinning out of it. So what do we do? Take control of the one thing that is truly ours, and cut it. This is a very dangerous thing to do. On one hand, a fabulous haircut can make all the difference in your life-- can give you the confidence you need to face the decisions and/or situations that seem overwhelming. On the other hand, though, a bad haircut... well, I know you've all known someone who got a bad haircut and how it makes them act. A bad haircut can make a bad phase in your life even worse.
That's all I'm going to say about haircuts (until mine is fixed!) because I'm boring myself.

Item 3:
I just spent over an hour reading other people's blogs. I've come to some conclusions:
a. Swearing is funny.
b. I don't swear enough. But I'm not funny to begin with, and swearing more will probably only make me sound more like the west-side hick I'm trying hard to break free from
c. Bathroom stories are hi-larious.
d. Nudity is funny, especially genitals.
e. Other people have WAY more interesting lives than I do
f. Other people are also smarter than me, and that hurts.
g. There seems to be a small clique of bloggers who read and link to each other's blogs. I am the uncool kid who stands next to the cool kids in the hopes of being mistaken as part of the crowd. If I were to actually be admitted in, I would probably wet myself with excitement, and then poo myself with nerves for having to keep up with being "as cool" as the others.

Item 4:
Stories for other posts. I am taking requests:
a. Garbled Boy
b. Calling Sean fat
c. Calling Ken-Doll Rob Stupid
d. Telling the bishop's assistant that his kids have gay names
e. Telling someone my parents beat me
f. My dad's a retard (Dad, I am not referring to you-- calm down.)

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Ya gets what ya pays for!

The gods of hair are laughing at me for thinking I could pay 12 bucks for a haircut and walk away satisfied.

It's not that I think my haircut is bad per se, but it's not exactly what I wanted. When I bring you a picture and say "I want this", I don't mean your version of it. I want THAT EXACT HAIRCUT. I think it might be too long still. Or something. All I know is, I hacked off 4 inches of hair becasue I'm going to have two kids under the age of 2 soon, and I can't be messing with long hair when they are both crying at my feet. But when my new "quick" short hair takes me a freakin' hour to make it look sort of like I want it to, there's something wrong.

Okay, so maybe it's because I'm retarded and just don't know how I'm supposed to style it. Maybe it's because I'm not using the right styling product. Maybe I'm just not used to it yet. But I ain't happy. Did I think that because it was my cousin who cut it, that it would turn out perfect? As if she said to herself, "Oh, I'd better give Beck a good haircut, instead of the crappy job I do on everyone else just for kicks, because I have to see her at family functions and she'll be mad."

Most people would tell me to go back and have her fix it, but I have two problems with that: 1) I don't want to offend my cousin by saying she did a crappy job (and besides, she's that pushy sort of personality that would argue with me that it looked fine instead of fixing it) and 2) She didn't do it right the first time, why would it be any better a second?

So, if any Salt Lakers out there know where I can get an AWESOME fix for under $30, I'd appreciate a heads-up.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Frosted Lucky Charms, they're magically delicious!

After a bowl and a half of cornflakes this morning, I made my breakfast complete with some Lucky Charms. (I told you, I really like cold cereal!) I haven't had Lucky Charms for quite some time because they make my teeth hurt, so I thought I was in for a real treat as I poured myself a bowl of those beloved pink hearts, orange stars, yellow moons, green clovers, and blue diamonds (okay, okay, AND the freakin' purple horseshoes. Although Lucky Charms were never the same after they added those). You can imagine my shock, then, when instead of finding all my old marshmallow friends, I find myself with a headache from all the psychedelic colors of all the unrecognizeable marshmallows. Now they've got the red balloons, orange and white shooting stars, yellow and dark yellow pots of gold, rainbows, hats, BLUE moons!?, kitchen sinks, and the neighbor's dog. What the hell??! The only thing left of the originals are the pink hearts and those damn purple horseshoes. Oh no, wait, they DO have the green clovers... but they are advertising them as "NEW Green Clovers!", so I assume they had been taken out. I almost couldn't eat it. It was like eating those fake "Marshmallow Maties" when what you really wanted was Lucky Charms-- because let's face it, they AREN'T the same.

In other news, I got my hair cut this morning. Hacked off about 4 inches. Now it's all short and shaggy, and will hopefully be sexy. I'm a bit worried, though. I didn't get it styled, so I came home with it all wet and limp, and it doesn't look a THING like what I was aiming for. Lets hope that when I wake up from my (much needed) nap and get a chance to do something with it, I will look like the hot and spunky anime girl I am in my imagination. Minus the blue, of course.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Could I be Catherine the Great?

I am hoping this new baby (due date: July 18) will be a girl for a few reasons, not the least of which is that I have a freakin' enormous My Little Pony collection from when I was small. Seriously, I have over 50 My Little Ponies. If I have a girl, I can pass on my glorious collection to her. (Of course, knowing my luck, she'll be totally into tow trucks and backhoes and crap...)

I thought it fitting--my collection in mind--that this is the result of the lastest "What Are You" test I took:
my little pony
You're My Little Pony!! Sweet and innocent and
happy, you make people want to spew burrito
chunks. Even a Care Bear could kick your ass.

What childhood toy from the 80's are you?

Sunday, Sunday, NO good to me...

Day of rest my arse!

My kid hates church so much that I am starting to hate church just because I have to drag him there. What's the problem, you might ask, with a little boy who's only one? Well, gentle reader, THE NEXT PERSON TO ASK ME THAT CAN DAMN WELL TAKE HIM NEXT WEEK AND SEE FOR THEMSELVES!!

We joke that our Boy must be the spawn of the devil because he seems to hate God so much. The minute someone starts praying, the minute we head into the church, he suddenly sprouts four more arms and legs. And his voice amplifies by at least a thousand decibals. We're trying to wean him from the binky, but church is one place we're in a hurry to stuff it in his mouth. I half expect his head to start spinning.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

My life as a Sim


Here is what my family would look like if we were Sims.
Except Baby Aiden would be WAY cuter. I love love LOVE Sims 2 and all the new features, but the babies are really creepy looking. I think it's the hair... they all either look like Dorothy Hamil or like they have an old man comb-over. But I digress.

Sims actually got the personalities in this picture pretty close, too. Me, trying to look all hot, and Kitt pulling a retard face. Maybe that's why I don't "Scrapbook." (Tell me honestly, is scrapbooking a Utah thing, or has this obsession reached world-wide proportions yet?) I don't scrapbook because Kitt is always trying to be cheeky in all our photos, and pulls these faces that look like he's either poo-ing a snapping turtle or has just got off the "special" bus. If someone were to look through a scrapbook of our vacation photos, they'd say, "oh, how nice of you to take that handicapped boy with you to Disneyland!"

I really love the Sims. But I can't play it anymore. I get too involved, and end up spending 7 hours at the computer watching my Sims go to the bathroom and nap on the couch-- all the little things they do. It's so adorable almost! It's like watching your kids grow up. "Look honey, they cut themselves when they make dinner!" "Look honey, they sleep in their UNDERWEAR! Isn't it cute?" Kitt always tries to get me to play, but he forgets that I won't go to bed once I get involved. And then HE has to get up in the middle of the night with The Boy because I am in a coma from staying up till 2:00 a.m. watching my Sims make out. And speaking of watching Sims making out, am I the only one who gets a little hot and bothered by this? Is that wrong of me? It's like a tiny little cable movie on my computer screen when they start going at it. Makes me all randy. Maybe THAT'S the real reason Kitt is always trying to get me to play...

My that's a tasty foot

I did it again the other night. Insulted someone before I could even think about it. A whole group of someones, in fact. My hubby and I were asked to sit on a "Dating Panel" for a youth activity at our church. The kids asked all sorts of questions about dating in general and about our experiences. One kid asked, "How cool did you think you were when you were teenagers?"

Stupid question, really. My response was stupider. But according to me, THE KIDS were the stupidest of all.

I started spouting off on how I thought I was SO COOL. All the cool things we used to do. No one else was cooler. And then I say, "Now I look at kids today and think, 'Man, I hope I wasn't that stupid!'" My husband laughed out loud and asked if I had just called all these kids stupid. Well I guess I had. They all just stared at me. Apparently I'm still as stupid as I was back then.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

It's me!


Aren't you supposed to be at work?

One of my friends has a blog. Until I stumbled acrossed it, it never occured to me that normal people can have blogs. What a novel idea! So here I am, totally on the clock at work, creating myself a blog. I'm not quite sure how this will go. I hope that I will be able to come up with things to share with the world that won't bore everyone to puddles of poo. I was just lamenting today that I wish I was funny. There is nothing funny about me. Except for my tendency to put my foot in my mouth. (I will probably share some of those stories later...) My desire to be funny all came about from reading this blogger's insights.