Life As an Afterschool Special

So hard for it honey…

Ok. I need to downsize my life. Starting with my work schedule. I seriously seriously need to get rid of a few jobs.

Like right now.

I have a two month contract (fifteen hours a week) writing reviews for an Internet site
I work twenty to twenty-five hours a week for Living Influence
I teach ten hours a week teaching for a swim school
I pick up a few shifts every month at Centerpoint Massage School
I teach a class at Curves one night a week for six week sessions
and I work about fifteen hours a week right now as Managing Editor for Shattered Glam.

On top of all that I also freelance and work on my own book.

Seriously.

I don’t even know how I function sometimes. The problem is all I do is work, but I actually really really really love all my jobs. So much so I have a really hard time saying no.

But I really need to start saying no.

After a post I made on the Rumor Forum, my friend Dawn sent me an IM saying that I handle feeling out of control the same way she does. Surprisingly for those of you who know me, she did not mean that we both say that we are fine until we believe it, then have a few big girl drinks and a piece of dark chocolate and find a man to flirt with until we feel better.

I have grown.

Now, I cook. I clean. I know.

This weekend, after feeling like all things in life we out of control, I cooked. I had my small group over on Sunday and made dinner for all 15 of them. I know! I had to make a ton of phone calls to figure out what I was doing, but I made tacos and burritos with both chicken and meat.

I had to call three people while at the grocery store before someone answered and told me how much meat you use to make tacos and burritos for 15 people. I had five pounds of meat, and a bag of chicken breast.

Then I realized I didn’t even know how to cook chicken without using a George Forman grill. So I made more phone calls. (Apparently you can use a skillet fry pan thing)

And then I made cupcakes! Which turned out really well, although I thought I could make them without a cupcake pan, and when informed by the people I had text and called that I indeed did need a cupcake pan and not just the paper cupcake holders, I had to go to Susie’s to borrow a pan.

But I cooked. And I did a good job. And cooking made me feel better.

Then I cleaned. A lot. I hate cleaning. I hate cleaning so much I have hired someone to clean my house before (although there is more to that story).

It started with feeling like everything was out of control and feeling like if there weren’t Subway wrappers on the floor of my car my life would be better. So I cleaned my car.

Next I cleaned my house. I scrubbed my floors. I dusted. I fluffed pillows. I rehung pictures.

After that I tackled my room. My room was a disaster zone, but I cleaned and dusted. It wasn’t even surface cleaning. I cleaned under my bed. I even cleaned out my makeup drawer.

But the most satisfying thing I did was clean out my closets and make sure all the hangers face the same way again and arrange my clothes by color. I went through clothes and shoes and accessories and then went to Plato’s closet and sold things I hadn’t worn in a while.

I felt better. I felt organized. And I am not saying I am fine and its easy and everything is perfect, but at this exact second, I am feeling a little less overwhelmed.

So, I think Dawn is right. Cleaning and cooking may be my new coping mechanism. Because I am pretty sure if I can control my closet, I can start to control my life.

How do you cope with feeling out of control?

(See how interactive I am trying to be)

He’s going the distance.
He’s going for speed.
She’s all alone, all alone in her time of need.

Because he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course,
He’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse.
He’s going the distance.

Yeah!

~Cake

Can I just say that I have several friends who are training to run marathons, and I don’t get it. I mean I am totally proud of them, and I admire then for their tenacity, but really, I don’t get it.

How far is it? Like 26 miles? I have no desire to run 26 miles ever. I think if men with guns were chasing me and said if I stop running they would shoot me in the eye I would still make it maybe 10 miles before I would just go “To hell with it, just shoot me and put me out of my misery”

My friend Christine was all geared up to run the Chicago Marathon this weekend. I instant messaged her this morning and asked how it went. She said the run got cancelled, so it was pretty disappointing.

Christine said 4 hours into the race they herded everyone back to Grant Park. Yes, after four straight hours of running. I don’t do anything for four straight hours, except maybe sleep. I don’t even like to drive for four hours.

At not point would I ever wake up and say, you know what would be fun today? What if instead of driving 30 minutes to work in Minnetonka, I just ran it instead.

But Christine is the type of girl who might say that. She is the type of girl who admitted she almost cried when her race was cancelled. Not tears of joy, which I would be crying if someone suddenly told me I didn’t have to run 26 miles. But tears of sadness. Apparently it was too hot and they ran out of water and people were passing out left and right. One person died, 49 were hospitalized, and thousands irate.

Irate because they couldn’t run 26 miles in hot weather where people were passing out left and right.

So again, I am totally proud of her (and Kathy and Ann and Gretchen) for working so hard… but I don’t get it.

Do you?

(back to the serious)

I am still overwhelmed. I am trying not to be, but I am. This post may go all over the place, but I am just trying to process.

Hello Everyone:

Thank you all for your phone calls and well wishes for Danny’s
Parents. I thought it would be easier to give you all an update at
once instead of making alot of phone calls and repeating myself so
here goes.

Last Saturday Danny’s mom was taken to the hospital with heart
problems. She was released from the hospital on Friday afternoon with
a diagnosis of severe heart problems, kidney problems and will be on
constant medication and oxygen until she passes. They figure she will
have a massive heart attack in the future but can’t tell them how long
that may be. She at this time requires 24 hour care.

Wednesday of the same week, Danny’s father collapsed and was brought
in by ambulance to the same hospital. Dan was there visiting his mom
and met his father in the emergency. He was admitted that day. He is
still in the hospital and is terminal. His prognosis is fatal with
lung disease. They can’t say if it’s going to be days, weeks or
months. The family is trying to get him home because that is what
Dan’s father and mother want but we can’t get him well enough to do
so. He was planning to go home today but had a set back and they
reinserted the IV and it looks like he won’t be able to go home before
Tuesday. He also will be on full oxygen needed 24 hour care when
they get him home.

So to summarize, a week ago everything was well and in a week both
parents went down at the same time and both are not doing well.
Danny’s is trying to keep it together and entire Wade family is
feeling like they just got hit across the head with a ball bat.

I will try to update you as much as possible if things change. It is
very humbling to see how quickly life can turn on a dime and the world
around you changes. Thanks for all your love and support to our
family and please keep Danny’s family in your prayers.

All our Love

Danny, Cathy, Jamie, Sara and Staci

That was an email my mother sent out regarding my grandparents health this week. Today she called and told me that they believe my grandmother may pass today or within days, and my grandfather will soon after. They are adament that they are going to go together. My grandparents are both at home, hospice has been called, and almost all their children (yes, all ten of them) are by their side, with the rest on the way. The children are staying strong because they know this what their parents want.

I am too, but I am so sad. I am so so so sad. I talked to my Dad on the phone, and I cried, and then he cried, which made me cry even more. It is hard when fathers cry. Even as a twenty eight year old woman, part of me still thinks fathers are supposed to be strong and brave all the time, and so it hurts when they are hurting, and its scary when they are scared.

I also got to talk to both my grandmother and my grandfather. They didn’t say much, but they told me they loved me and I said what I needed to.

For those of you who may be confused by my family tree, the Dad I am referring to is actually my step-dad, but he has been married to my mother and therefore been my father for practically my whole life. I don’t remember a time when he wasn’t my dad. I grew up with him. I adore him more than almost anyone else in the world. Between both of my fathers, I am defiantly a daddy’s girl.

The funny thing about my Dad, and in turn my grandparents, is they have never ever ever treated me any different than any of their other children or grandchildren.

(Great I am so sitting at work crying again)

But it is true. I have always just been theirs, and they have been mine.

I have countless memories of growing up and my grandmothers chocolate chip cookies and swimming in the pool with my grandpa and huge family dinners, and playing in the big sandbox with all the ants, (yeah ants, not aunts, there was a tree over the sandbox and ants used to always come down the tree and live in the sand) and family reunions.

Family reunions are my favorite.

Every single year, the first week of August, my whole family (all 10 aunts and uncles with their spouses and cousins etc etc) get together at my grandparents home in Michigan. They have a ton of land, and every year we camp far out in the woods on their property. My mom, being my mom, never brings a tent but rather a pop up trailer, 70’s style, that she decorates with astro turf and hanging baskets and pink flamingos.

But Sunday is my favorite day. We all get up early and get in our finest to go to Catholic Mass with my grandparents. The men wear ties and the girls wear dresses. We always sit up front and take up almost four pews. It just feels so much like… family. And then we go back to my Aunt Paula’s and make breakfast and sing old songs like 15 tons and dang me and pasty Cline and such…

That afternoon we have the official wade family reunion, and everyone is invited. I have brought friends and boyfriends and even my “other family” Some friends come every year. We all make a dish and there is so much food.

After lunch we have our annual Wade family softball game. My grandpa has a field in his back yard with a fence backstop and dirt infield and we have one of those old fashioned score boards where you hang the numbers…. My Dad and my Uncle Pete are always captains, my grandpa is always the ump. There is a trophy. All ages play. Afterwards we have a home run derby, and if you hit a ball over the pine trees (which now must be like over 50 ft high) you get to autograph the ball and put in in my grandmas china cabinet.

My grandparents started that. They brought us all together from wherever we were in life and even just for that week… we were family.

That is what I talked about with my grandparents today when I said goodbye. I told both my grandfather and my grandmother that every good and fantastic thing I know about commitment and love and life and faith and family I learned by watching them. That I learned and I am who I am in huge part because of who they are. That they raised amazing children and amazing grandchildren and they leave a legacy. And that I love them so so so much.

(Still crying)

My mother, again being my mother, put a positive spin on the whole thing. She talked about how both my grandparents and their children got to make amends for anything they needed to. They said what they needed to. She pointed out that we all got to say goodbye and we love them and they got to tell us back. She said all the children prayed the rosary with my grandma because that is what she wanted, and there is peace.

But the thing she said to me that stood out the most is that they are doing this together. That my grandpa is holding my grandmas hand and whispering to her, and that they still love each other and want to be together in this life and the next. They chose life together, and now, in many ways, they are choosing death together.

And for me, a girl who is on so many levels terrified of commitment and trust and love, that is an amazing testimony. My grandparents in death are teaching me what they did in life… that loyalty and family and love and commitment and faith are all we have.

It’s very notebook of them.

And I am still so sad for me and for my family and the loss we will feel, but I am at peace knowing that my grandparents know God and they know love, and we are all better because of that.

I love you guys.

(tears)

(Back to our regularly shallow scheduled program)

I said a boom chica boom. I said a boom chica rocka chicka rocka chica boom.

I love MMMP. I love the laughs. I love the deep questions and honest answers. I love that we always get to eat dinner together. I love our teeshirt ideas. I love our handshake. I really love the bling. But most of all I love Boomie.

Because our mascot is the shiznit.

MMMP

Pawn Shop

I went to the Pawn Shop for my first time ever today. Like ever ever. I kind of loved it. The manager was this big cute burly white man with lots of tattoos.

I asked him if I could ask a random question. He answered “A pretty girl like you can ask me whatever she wants”

He is my new favorite.

I asked him if he knew anyone who could come to where my broken car was and take the CD player out before I had it towed away. He asked where it was and I said downtown. He asked when I needed it and I said whenever. He offered to come do it himself. I asked how much. He said if it was outside he would have done it for free, but he would do it for the cost of gas. I asked how much. He said 5 or 10 dollars. He is totally my favorite.

He gave me his card and wrote his cell number on the back and said he gets off work at 4. Some days it pays to be a girl.

Pee Dance

I was wondering today, as I did a little dance in the elevator at work, why moving around helps you when you have to pee really bad. What is it about the side to side dance that makes your bladder feel more under control? Shouldn’t it make it worse? These are the things I think as I dance in the elevator at work.

Smells like Cake

I really want new perfume but I am poor. Its from Victoria Secret and its called Slice of Heaven. I think it kind of smells like cake. I love it. My roommate has some and I have coveted it for the longest time. You really should go smell it. And then buy me some. Because its good. And my birthday is coming up. And the people at Victoria Secret in the mall next to my work are getting kind of sick of me going to their store and using the sample every day. And I do mean every day. But I don’t care. It smells that good.

Hubcaps

Is there a point to hubcaps? I mean besides looking cool? See, the problem is that I am, at heart, a girlie girl who was raised in a gated community by upper middle class parents but thinks she is a little bad ass because she has woofers and spinners on her car.

Well only two spinners, because I went to Kmart to buy a fan and someone stole the front two. But that is a different story and different post for a different day.

But now my car only has two spinners, which isn’t very bad ass at all. Where do I get new ones? And can I buy just two. And why would anyone steal just two hubcaps?

And again, what is the point of a hubcap. I should ask my pawn store friend. He would know.

Nose piercing

I think I want to pierce my nose for my birthday. Well not pierce it by myself, because I am not nearly brave enough to stick a needle in my flesh. Luckily, this is why I could never do Heroin. But I would like someone else to poke a needle in my flesh and give me a tiny stud.

Do you think i could rock a pierced nose?

Mark Your Calenders

Its offical, Seth and Ann, Mike J, Adam and I are having an old school birthday blowout out on October 28th at Seth and Ann’s. Costumes, music, and if the weather is nice a bonfire… Good times will be had by all. Start getting your costume ready now.

Kathy Grunditz

Speaking of birthdays, Kathy Grunditz is one of my very best friends. In the world. I love her almost more than I love anyone, and I am not even saying that in a “Jamie is fun and pretends she likes everyone” sort of way. I really do think she is fantastic, and I am so glad we have fought it out and laughed it out and talked it out and remained friends for so long. She is sassy and beautiful and strong and wise and fun and I completly love, respect, and trust her. And that is saying a lot. And yesterday was her birthday. So I thought I would give a shout out to her awesomeness. YAY KATHY!

Geof Morris

Its also my friend Geof’sbirthday today. I love that every year he gets older faster than I do. We dated. I am not sure he will love that I put that here, but he has access to my wordpress so I guess he can change it if he wants… but my point is, we dated, and it was terrible and messy for a while, and I really didn’t think we could be friends. I have trust issues. And it is hard for me to trust especially when I have been hurt. So I didn’t think we could be friends. He didn’t think we could be friends. But we are. He is one of the few men who really really knows me and kind of gets me. And he is fun and kind and smart and has amazing taste in music and I really really appreciate his friendship. And if you can’t say that on someones birthday when can you say that?

That’s all I got kids…

MMMP.

At what point do you become so brilliant and good at what you do that nothing else, including your fans, matters? I have been thinking that a lot today as I try to process the Ryan Adams concert from last night. I saw Ryan Adams play at the State Theater in Minneapolis.

To start with, let me say Ryan Adams really is brilliant. His music is amazing. His lyrics are beautiful. His voice is stirring and soothing all at the same time. I admit I was not at all disappointed with what he sounded like live, if anything, he was more amazing live than on cd. He really is that good.

Last night I fell in love with his music all over again. I wanted to wrap it around me and cocoon myself in it. I called my friend Scott, who had introduced me to Ryan Adams, during the show and said that Ryan Adams music made me want to make out. And truthfully, it did. His music is sensual and sexy and passionate and brought out passion in me.

With all that said, I am not sure I would pay to see him again. His music speaks for itself, I think it would be hard for anyone to say something awful about the music last night. Dear John was amazing. Two was amazing. Everything he did was amazing.

What wasn’t amazing was his attitude. He complained about the sound system. He never interacted with the crowd except to yell at people who were yelling and clapping. He said we sounded like Cavemen and he couldnt hear us anyways. Then he played one more song and walked off the stage after just a hour of playtime. I was crushed. I waited for him to return and the lights came on.

The concert was over just an hour after it began.

I didnt understand. I called my friend Scott to tell him about it and he said Ryan is somewhat known for his temperamental behavior. He has a hard time on tour. Today I checked out the Ryan Adams forum to see what others were saying. Basically everyone said the same thing. Music is great, concert was short, Ryan Adams does what he wants.

I guess the age old question would be why a musician creates music in the first place. I gather that Ryan Adams is one of those musicians who creates music because he has to, because its in his heart and soul and it eats away at him if he doesn’t. His music is for him, and we are lucky enough that he lets us in to listen at all. But at the same time, in researching today I have read and heard his reactions to negative reviews from his shows. He clearly is passionate about what he does. And he wants people to appreciate it.

So where is the line? How volatile can you be and still keep your fans? How can you except people to appreciate you when you clearly dont appreciate them?

I am not sure. Because while I do appreciate Ryan Adams music, and I fully admit everything he played last night was amazing, I am not sure I would pay to see another show. In theory, Ryan Adams makes thousands of dollars to play music. But I am girl on budget. I am all for a good show and a night out… but I do not have the money to spend on a show where the musician may or may not decide he feels like playing.

The thing is a good show takes two. It takes fans who are willing to spend money, give up time, deal with traffic and people, understand that the sound might not be perfect, and want to stay anyways. Because the music matters. It also takes a musician who is willing to put himself out there, even if everything is not perfect.

It takes two.

What kind of girl am I?

I am the kind of girl who spends all day yesterday totally stoked about seeing Ryan Adams, leaves work early, drives downtown, pays to park her car in the garage, and then walks by the marquee of the State Theater only to read “RYAN ADAMS. THURSDAY. 8:00″ What?! I called my roommate, who I was meeting, and left a message asking her to look at tickets.

Yeah, you read that right. Yesterday, Wednesday, I went to see the Thursday Ryan Adams show. I am retarded. That’s the kind of girl I am.

What kind of girl am I?

I am the kind of girl who, in realizing that the concert I so want to see is still a day away and I have already paid for parking downtown, decides with my roommate to stay and hit happy hours. Have I mentioned how much I love my roommate Krista, because I do. She is one of my favorites. So we stayed. We were both starving anyways. Surely someplace had to have a happy hour deal on appetizers. Sadly we missed all happy hours… well almost all of them

What kind of girl am I?

I am the kind of girl who then convinces her roommate to go to Hooters for buy 1 get 1 and half price appetizers. We had deep fried pickles and drinks. And we were the only girls who were fully clothed in the whole joint. And actually for the record, there are lots of friendly men at Hooters who seem to appreciate a well dressed woman. Or maybe they thought we were lesbians and they appreciate lesbians. Either way, men at Hooters= friendly men. Also on a side note… why in the world would you ever want to waitress at Hooters. I am the least feminist girl I know, and even I think it is kind of wrong wrong wrong.

What kind of girl am I?

I am the kind of girl who maybe got a little tispy at Hooters (I hadnt drank in a while.. .I am lightweight) and decided to wait for Shout Piano Bar to open because they had even better drink specials. And Wednesday is 80’s night. And I am the kind of girl who is always down for a little Guns and Roses and Billy Joel and Soft Cell.

What kind of girl am I?

Apparently I am the kind of girl the waitress at Shout hated. HATED. And maybe it was because we already went to the bar and got a beer before she got to our table, but we were not her favorite. She totally ignored us and didnt even get us a menu. When we asked for a menu she walked by and threw one down on the table and left without asking us if we needed anything. Later, we had to flag her down because I spilled some of my drink, and she said we were being messy and then threw down a stack of 100 napkins, took our menu, and walked away again without asking if we needed anything. She was so rude that I actually thought it was funny but Krista was getting feisty. Tipsy and feisty Krista is a sight to behold. In order to make peace, I went to the bar to get more drinks and order Chips and Salsa. Even the girls at the table next to us thought our waitress hated us.

What kind of girl am I?

The kind of a girl who loves her roommate Krista, had a great time with her and even got digits after a night of singing along at Shout. Oh yeah I got digits. Ironically, not from a man. And surprisingly not in a lesbian on an airplane kind of way (although I am the kind of girl who accidentally makes dates with women on airplanes). One of the girls who had been sitting next to us all night and commented on our waitress hating us came over and sat in the chair next to me. She leaned over and whispered that she and her friend were not trying to pick us up, they were married and engaged, but they thought Krista and I seemed super fun and amazing and wanted to know if we ever wanted to have a girls night out. Then she gave me her card. HA! take that mean waitress, I am the kind of girl men at gas stations want to date and women want to be BFF with. Justification!

So… the night didnt go the way I thought it would. There was no Ryan Adams concert (although there will be in seven hours. YAY! ) but I am the kind of girl who rolls with punches, and had an amazing night anyways.

That’s the kind of girl I am.

(But I am still retarded. Seriously. How can I have the day wrong)

P: How’s that piece coming along?

M:Typing it up now… can I use the word asshole? Its a quote from the owner.

P: LOL, write it how you see it. We’ll take it up with the editorial board ;).

Apparently posting about how I am amazing and want a job writing was all that was standing between me and a gig.

I got a second job.

Actually I got quite a few jobs, including a two month contract, WRITING!

Oh yes, I am getting PAID TO WRITE! I am writer again!

Just thought I would share the news!

I am stoked!

Happy Dance!