Rite of passage...

I was watching "Mental" the other night and the particular episode was about a girl who tried to commit suicide and through some investigation while she was being held at the hospital found out that she was really a boy whom during circumcision there was an accident and some psycho psychologist decided to have the parents bring him up as a her. Weird! But when she found this out they her go through a "rite of passage" and chose objects she had grown up with and burn those that she didn't feel like described her and keep the ones she thought did. This helped her to see more of who she was and get rid of the past and live with the present. This got me thinking about rites of passages and if I had any in my life. And there isn't one really, but there is this hidden rite of passage if you will that frankly bothers me. It's partially a religious one and probably much of a cultural one. The rite of passage is marriage. Now how in the world am I to know about a rite of passage I have yet to participate in by myself? Well I shall tell you.

I am 27 and still living single. I have a house that I and the bank own and I have for two years now. I have a job that I've held down for a full three and a half years that is a career if I chose to keep it as a career. I pay my bills, I have my own services and for most things I have broken free of my parents. However I have apparently missed the moving into adult social activities because of my lack of a significant other.

This is made fully aware to me at all family parties. They usually have some gathering with everyone, all cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents-- which is a lot of people on both sides of my family. Typically there is "adult dinner" or something adult that generally speaking includes food. However, what they really mean is "adult who is been married, has been married or has someone that's close enough to be married to that you are by all means invited as well" and does not include single individuals who live adult lives but are lacking and have always lacked a significant other.

This is where the rite of passage comes to play. Apparently, in order to participate in "adult" social activities I have to be married...or pretty dang close to it...which I'm not. I was quite offended. At first I thought when I was younger that it was just because I was 18-21. But now I'm past 21 and even the law calls me an adult and even gives me the option to drink...but I am not adult enough to be invited to the "adult dinners". My parents both have defended their families for lack of inviting but after I've increased in age and surpassed the age where my sister was married and invited to the "adult" social occasions I came to my own conclusion about their lack of inviting.

I'm sure some of you are defending my parents families but you should stop. There is no reason not to invite me. I can see if it were some couple activity...like lets say dancing or something that really requires two people that I can see why an invite would not be extended. However it's not. It's usually dinner. There is nothing wrong with me joining a dinner with my extended family without some other significant person attached to my side. If I had any qualms with me being single and by myself I could kindly decline the invitation but I don't and the invitation should have been extended.

My parents have tried to explain the lack of inviting me is because they say it's a brother and sister kind of gathering with their husbands and wives. Which also would be a fine reason not to invite me, but then you can't invite my older sister to come and participate with her husband without giving me reason to be offended or think that there is something wrong with me just because I'm not married yet. It's lame. Really it is. The other thing they try to tell me is that it's a couple thing...which is half understandable, but then there is usually someone there who is without spouse but has previously had one, or who is lacking the attendance of their significant other which means it's not really a couples thing and still brings the previous offenses back to the surface.

I apparently had talked about this enough to my sister that my brother-in-law decided they weren't going to go to an adult dinner unless I was invited. I got the invite to go to the adult dinner and I wasn't married, hadn't been married and wasn't even dating someone and therefore not even close to marriage. It was a shocking moment for sure. I was enjoying my time until everyone started to give me a hard time about if I was enjoying talking about "adult" things or if I was bored by the "adult" talk and other such things. This was just as irritating as not being invited. It was as if they took a pity case on inviting me because I haven't had this rite of passage into adulthood by getting married and there was no way that I could find any adult conversation intriguing or follow it. I can't decide what the lower blow is: not being invited or being invited and mocked.

I suppose I'm here to say that people should broaden their horizons...and maybe I'm really just talking to the culture that I live in which is deeply rooted religiously and heavily focuses on marriage and say you should change your views of "adult" to include those who have lives and aren't married and when you do to not mock their way of living or their level of intelligence.
"My first adult dinner"

Things I've learned from living with little kids...

I've been living with some friends for a summer getaway and they have a three year old and a 9 probably 10 month old by now. They are adorable kids. It's been quite awhile since I've been living with little kids. I had enough siblings when I was younger to have an idea of what it's like to live with little ones, but I've been reminded of so many aspects that I'd thought I'd share.

1) Your body is now a jungle gym and/or a toy. The three year old, Caleb, loves to be crawl all over me especially when I'm in the love sac. I've been jumped on, had balls thrown at me, ran into, hugged, and all sorts of other stunts done to me from Caleb. It's been a long time since I've been a jungle gym. Caleb frequently says "I want to come mer" and has pleading hands beckoning me to pick him up and hold him while I do whatever I am doing.

Beckett, the infant is a little different. My hair is a great toy and I'm still amazed at the grasp babies have. His legs kick into my stomach frequently when I'm holding on to him and he even hugged me back once and I've been the recipient of several open mouth kisses--which frankly is so precious even though it's slightly disgusting as slobber gets all over you. I can see why mom's usually go for the short hair...to bad husbands seem to like the long hair.

2) Expect interrogation. This only comes from Caleb as Beckett is really only saying a few words and attempting to communicate at this point. I am frequently asked by Caleb "What are you doing doing doing?" which is honor of the goose from Charlotte's Web and still makes me chuckle every time. There is now a barrage of questions "where are you going?" "is that your car?", "what's that?", "is that yours" and many others. It's humorous what he asks and he cracks me up when he responds to my answer with an emphatic "COOL!" or "Oh" as if he really cared that much about what I said.

3) Watch your mouth cause it'll be repeated. There have been multiple occasions of this where one of the adults will say something and Caleb will so willingly repeat everything we have said. There was one occasion where I had said something at dinner and had said "awkward" which Caleb mimicked to a t and then when I had finished a story about a late night at Denny's with a guy friend and a discussion of liking crunchy bacon and what that meant and the waitress staring at the two of us in disbelief Caleb piped in "Awkward" at just the right moment it sent the entire table in hysterics.

4) Sometime eating in secret is necessary. This is especially true of Caleb as he is allergic to beef, dairy and eggs and thus we eat things he can't. Chocolate is one of those things you have to eat in secret so he doesn't get jealous and if he happens to see you have to explain how he will get sick from it. Popcorn is another. I patiently waited one night when I was craving kettle corn popcorn for him to be put to bed. He can't have butter and thus they have to pop their own popcorn. But it was so close to bedtime I respectfully waited for him to be in bed and then pulled out the popcorn...to which my friends laughed at me for.

Then there are things that you should hid because he's a kid and doesn't know how to monitor his eating yet. Fruit snacks is one of those. I've found that if you can surreptitiously make it over to the pantry and grab the fruit snacks, cross the kitchen to the other side, open the pack and throw away the evidence of a blue fruit snack bag and sneakily put the fruit snacks in your mouth one at a time. But you must be careful that he doesn't catch you putting something in your mouth because then you will be interrogated.

5) Watch out for sneezing. I was feeding Beckett green beans and put a spoonful in his mouth and watched his face turn to a weird face and then suddenly the green beans came flying back out of his mouth as he sneezed. Not a great thing to experience.

6) Laundry is more frequent. I can manage to wear a shirt a few times before it's truly dirty. However I have found that now that I'm a jungle gym and that I'm holding babies that inevitably that I end up getting spit up, or some kind of baby food on my shirts much more frequently thus creating much more laundry than I am used to doing.

7) Crying and excitement. I have been here long enough that both the kids get excited when they see me. Beckett kicks his legs in pure excitement any time I go to get him and Caleb is always excited when I wake up in the morning. It's endearing how excited they get to see me. It makes me feel so loved. I had the flip side of excitement happen the other day. When I went to go somewhere and Caleb wasn't coming with me, he suddenly started crying and was really upset that he couldn't come with me. I felt bad as I walked out the door making sure he didn't somehow follow me, but there was it was nonetheless really touching when a little child cries that you are leaving them and they are not going to come.

Opening IHOP mayhem

It's a Thursday late morning and I'm shocked as I get shown to my seat just how busy IHOP actually is. I realize that it just opened on Saturday and my friends I'm living with were overly stoked about the grand opening and often drove by to check the status of the switch from village inn to IHOP, but still it's IHOP. I had a relatively sleepless night the night before and at 4:00 am was craving hash browns and bacon. I almost got out of bed and went to IHOP then, but I told myself to turn over and try one last time to sleep and if 4:30 came that I would then go to IHOP and miraculously sleep came.

Hours later I was now at IHOP still craving hash browns and bacon being seated at a table of four. It seemed a little hectic so I chose the inside seat to avoid people brushing past and started my observations as I sat looking at the menu. Conveniently, I was seated by the kitchen and was at a prime location for watching the inner workings day 6 of IHOP being open.

The lady nearby is who I only can assume is the manager or the owner of the new IHOP. She stood there overlooking what was going on and appeared to be doing nothing at all. After several minutes of watching workers go in and out and trying to remember what table matched which number, she noticed that I was sitting there unattended and asked me if someone had come over yet at all. I replied no and told her I was in no rush. She got me a drink--apple juice of course for me--and apologized and said someone would be right over.

My waitress came by and looked slightly frazzled but managed to get the order taken down and I resumed my people watching. After a min I noticed that those in black shirts were from some other IHOP and were training those in the normal IHOP attire. Same with those in red but I'm not sure what distinguished the reds from the blacks, except that the trainers in red stood and watched and the trainers in black walked around and fixed things.

The manager asked who had just given her money and one server pointed to another girl who came over and said that she had given her the money and it was from table....uh....that one over there with the two ladies...table 48. To which the other server said "no that's table...40, 41, 42, 43." It took them a good minute and half to resolve whose money that was and what bill it came with.

Moments later a male server walked up to the manager and asked if she had change for $100--which she did not. He walked around in the small area trying to locate the "cash register" man and came back moments later and asked one of the trainers in a red shirt who was just standing if she had change for a $100--which she did not. He mumbled under his breathe that he couldn't find so and so and didn't know what to do. He disappeared momentarily and came back asking yet another person if they had change for $100. The result was the same and once again he expressed his frustration to no one in particular that so and so who is supposed to have the money wasn't where he was supposed to be and what was he supposed to do.

At this time I see my plate of food walk right past me and the deliverer trying to locate where in the world is this plate of food is supposed to go. He turns around and rushes back towards the kitchen and I am about to say something, but he starts talking to the manager and in angst says he doesn't know where this food goes. The manager tells him to find out who put the order in and then they can find out where it went. He disappears with my food and I see my waitress half walk out of the kitchen and then back in and saying to the man holding my food...the one right there and half pointing in my direction. He comes out and seems slightly embarrassed that I witnessed the entire event of him not knowing where the food went when it was right in front of him and stammers a small apology of "sorry ma'am" and presents my food to me.

The bacon looks amazing and I dive in for my bacon and devour it in a matter of probably a minute...which should astound no one as I have a habit of eating rapidly that according to my brother-in-law could prevent second dates for me. My waitress comes walking by and stops on her way to her next spot to see how my food is. I tell her it's great and she just stares at my food trying to figure out if that is what I got. After a moment of her staring and tallying what's on my plate I reassure her that the order is correct and she questions if they forgot the bacon. To which I have to reply that I already consumed it all.

I'm eating my hash browns...which taste particularly good today and a man who is a trainer in red--who decided that the best spot for him to stand would be right behind my seat to observe whatever he was supposed to be observing--asks me how my food is. "Good" I respond. "You've probably had about ten people ask you I'm sure you just want to be left alone to enjoy your food," he apologized. Which is true, I had been asked by multiple people if I enjoyed my food or if I needed anything else as there were at least five people who were standing right near my table "over-seeing" what was going on.

Amoung all of this I was not irritated in the least. I could have been. On many days I would have been. They took forever to get my syrup, missed getting my drink rapidly and managed to forget I was there until the manager found me observing the mayhem. I could have been disgusted that they almost lost a customers payment, that they didn't have the slightest idea what table was which number, that no one had change for $100 for the poor server who was trying so desparately to get the change needed, or that it was entirely obvious that no one knew how to use the computer to make payments, including the manager and it would have been easy to decide never to come back to IHOP. I was, however, in absolutely no rush that day and had been in a house sick all by myself for multiple days and was enjoying being around people again and it was a great break from watching people on t.v. So instead of being annoyed and irritated with the circumstances all I found was pure humor and was delighted that I had craved hash browns and bacon at 4:00 that morning and decided that visiting IHOP on the 6th opening day was a good plan.

So thank you IHOP for allowing me to be an outsider with an insiders view on a day when I really needed some good humor.

I hate blogs, but I'm giving it a second go...

I hate blogging for a simple reason: I hate the mouse. I'm a keyboard girl. I don't like to have to use the mouse if at all possible. I love keyboard shortcuts. It makes everything so much faster. Now what in the world does this have to do with hating blogs you may ask. I will answer: everything. Most blogs I read (which frankly haven't been many due to this annoyance) you have to scroll down for an eternity to read a small portion of anything that is said on it. And this I find highly annoying. And annoying enough I set one up and didn't touch it for a really, really long time.

I've worked with websites...not really by choice and I'm fully aware of the capacity I have to edit the html. The problems comes in I don't speak html and if I was going to be fiddling with html it wasn't going to be for some blog for myself but to make certain annoying individuals stop calling my business and complaining something wasn't right on the website (as a side note that was only my job cause someone found out I was good at technology...it is not my main job by any stretch). Alas, my extra fiddling with html or php (and to be truthful I'm not sure which one it was) was spent on a far bigger project that got thrown out when I stuck it to my boss--who frankly has no idea that I stuck it to her.

Thus, I avoided at all costs the blogging. The incessant scrolling was frustrating and it made me angry to think about trying to adjust it while staring at a language I knew nothing about except that it includes a lot of < > and a br and p's for breaks. But it turns out today I had enough gumption to fiddle long enough that I got this template fixed. I did this by the great brilliance of looking at the page source of several bloggers who have successfully made their so that you can expand the text area and not just expand the pretty background that is all fluff and forces my hand to go to my mouse. The template I really wanted didn't like the code I stole...so now I have dots. It's much better than I expected it to turn out but it's still dots.

So here it try two to blogging!