Things I imagine go on in the Mauer house

This is for my buddies who share my love of Joe Mauer.  This has been floating around in my head since it was announced last week that Joe and his brother Bill, then just Bill, then Bill and a "partner" had bought Southview Chevy from the despicable Denny Hecker.

...and I pause to watch the end of the Sox vs Twins game. This is awful to watch.  I beg Joe Nathan to stop making this so interesting.  I cannot handle this.  I do not understand how he can have such a good record but lately every game he's nearly blowing it.

Imagine the score is 8-6. Bottom of the 9th.  Sox are up. First guy grounds out. Nathan hits the second guy with a pitch. He strikes out AJ Perznksi (that was hilareous, I was hoping for a bench clearing fight on that one) but not before he throws a wild pitch and lets Beckham get to second. Then he walks the next guy. Now we have the tying runs on base and if this next batter hits a home run, they win.  Thank God the next guy popped out. We stay 2.5 games back from Detroit.

I'm all for interesting pennant races, but I don't like it when I feel sick watching Joe Nathan close up a game and almost let it slip away 18 bazillion times. The FSN guy says, "you can tell he's out of gas. He's just tryin to invent stuff now."

So back to my story.  Well, maybe one other story first.  Last year, I didn't want us to win the Division title. WHAT?  Yeah, I know.  My friend got married last fall and her husband was buddies with Joe Mauer (among others on the team-he used to work with them). The wedding was in October and I knew that if we made the post season Joe would not show up to the wedding (he was invited).  So we didn't win the Division, but Joe (too depressed I assume) did not come to the wedding. His brother Bill (who I will mention later) did rsvp yes but did not show up (I saw his name card on the table. Again, I was bummed. Maybe he was busy trying to cheer up Joe?)  Well whatever. I had fun anyway.  All they missed was us playing "Cotton Eye Joe", making a big circle and taking turns dancing like crazy in the center.  It was probably the most fun I've ever had at a wedding dance.

Back to the real story.

Last week in the Business Journal it was announced that Joe had bought Southview Chevy.  Their source was his grandfather, who's admitted in the past to having issues with "booze and women."  However correct a source grandpa Mauer is, he's freaking hilareous.  I enjoy watching them interview him because he just says whatever he's thinking, just like it is.  Well, except for this time.  I think the original story was that Joe had bought Southview Chevy FOR his brother Bill who used to be the sales manager there.  Then the story changed (by the time I saw it on t.v. that morning) to Joe and Bill had bought it together and were going to run their very own dealership.  THEN the story was quickly retracted when Bill called the media and said Joe had nothing to do with it, it was all him.  He didn't want to discuss where he got the money from so of course we're all assuming it's Joe.  Then he admits he has a partner.  I'm thinking, is it Joe? Hahaha.  Then he admits his partner was the guy who used to run the Southview Chevy dealership with him.  So the story was very interesting, then slowly got less interesting.  And Joe?  He had no comment through the whole ordeal.  Fine with me.  Maybe no one told him what was going on and Bill just handled it. All the better, let's let him focus on doing his job.

But if he did know, this is how I imagine the conversation going (over the phone):
Bill: Hey, gramps.
Grandpa: Heya Billy, how you doing?
Bill: Fine, grandpa, but did you have to tell the Biz Journal that Joe bought Southview for me?
Joe: Yeah, grandpa, I really didn't have anything to do with it. I just buy cars from Billy, I don't want to sell them.  I already have a job.
Grandpa: Joey?  That you?  I thought I was talkin to Billy...where'd Billy go?
Bill: I'm still here Grandpa, it's a 3-way-call.
Grandpa: I had one of those once, but it involved women...
Joe: No, grandpa, you can talk to two people at the same time on the phone.  It's called a 3-way-call.
Grandpa: Well if that's what they're calling it now...
Bill: No, really it's not like that.  It's kind of like a conference call.
Grandpa: A call girl in a conference room? That's a little unprofessional.
Bill: (sighs) just forget it gramps.  Why'd you tell them it was Joe? You knew it was me.
Grandpa: To be honest Billy, I knew no one would care if it was just you so I threw Joe in there to get ya some press.
Bill: I can hold my own, people care about what I do.
Joe: (laughs hysterically)
Grandpa: Well the way I see it Billy, ya got your brother Jakey down in Florida 'bout to be a manager up here, ya got Joey being the best ball player who ever lived and ya got you...a car salesman?  Think about this now Billy.
Joe: People aren't even buying cars right now Bill, we're in a recession.  You should really invest in real estate, like me.
Bill: Uh, Joe?  Real estate market bottomed out, buddy.
Joe: Crap.
Bill: So you're saying no one is going to buy a car from me, even if my last name is Mauer?
Joe: It's okay Bill really, I'll just buy 12 cars a month from you and donate them to underprivledged youth and you'll be fine.
Bill: What if I get you to make apperances at the dealership?
Joe: Billy let's be honest here. It would start a riot.  Girls would be tearing off their clothes, guys would be tearing off my clothes...
Bill: That's true.  Can I put you in a box?  A high security clear plastic box?
Joe: No.
Grandpa: Joey maybe you should go, you need to find a woman.
Joe: I don't think so grandpa.
Grandpa: Billy you find a pretty girl to put in the box with him.
Bill: Done.  Joe make sure you shower that day.
Joe: Is anyone listening? I am NOT doing this...I already offered you a contingency plan.
Bill: But this is better.  This way the girls could get right up next to you.  They could lick the box instead of you. We know how much you hate to be drooled on.
Grandpa: Better idea: if they agreed to buy a car they get to go IN the box with Joey!
Bill: Ooo, that is a good idea.
Joe: NO! NO! NO! And NO!
Bill: For ever car sold, Joe takes off an article of clothing.
Joe: I'm hanging  up now.  Do you hear me?  HANGING UP!
Grandpa: Billy you ARE a sales genius!
Joe: (click)
Grandpa: Where's Joey?
Bill: Eh, I think he hung up.  I gotta go Grandpa, I got some billboards to design!  I don't have any shirtless picturse of Joe, how do you think we could get one?
Grandpa: I don't know if that's such a good idea Billy.  You'd cause accidents.
Bill: Right.  Thanks.
Grandpa: Any time you need more press, I'll be more than happy to tell the papers Joe's running your dealership.

Robot Chicken is the best show ever

I should really be writing right now.  I just got home from my second job and I was all set to write but it's 11pm and I got lost in the blog zone...and now Robot Chicken is on and I love that show... Everyone should check out the episodes with Snuggle Bear and My Little Apocolypose Ponies.

I don't really even have anything to say.  I just felt bad I hadn't blogged in a week.

I had an interesting weekend.  But in the intrest of keeping the blog PG or at least PG13 I can't really talk about it. We went to Ross's friend's house.

Yeah, I know.  Ross has a friend.  That's not Chris.  (For those of you who don't know me, my husband has a genuine, USDA Certified Bromance.)

I like Chris, but let me repeat a Tweet that I sent on Friday when I was at the Twins game with both of them:

"My husband and his best friend are like two 12 year old girls. On acid. And uppers. With ADHA. Help!"

 It really is that bad.  You can ask people who know.  So I like the other friend because it's not so...well...junior high.


Anyway, an actual Tweet from me on Saturday night:


"Leif is naked and we playin guitar hero. Ross is not winning"


See? I told you I can't talk about it.  But it was a nice (nice as in funny, not as in family friendly) night and it didn't cost us any money which was good.  We don't have spare money to go out right now (sorry to the people we were supposed to go out with on Saturday, but that was why.)


I just want to interject right here that I really like the word "Kraken."  Like from Pirates of the Caribean.  I don't know why.  I just like how it sounds.  Maybe I'll name my first born Kraken.


OMG!!!!  THEY'RE PLAYING THE VIDEO FOR WEASEL STOMPING DAY BY WEIRD AL!!!  I LOVE IT!!!


All right, time for bed.  Or at least something productive.


Until...later....

Missing: Tap Shoes. Reward.

Tonight marked the second night of my new job, if you're wondering why I've been so quiet the last few days.  I haven't been on the Internet AT ALL thanks to that stupid mess at my first job.  There is so much to catch up on when you're not on the Internet.

I was horrified to hear that Jessica Simpson's dog Daisy was snatched by a coyote right in front of her.  That is one of the worst things I can imagine.  I've lost a good number of pets over the years and it's heart breaking.  I can't imagine how she must be feeling right now.  That dog went everywhere with her.  I would have chased down that frickin coyote and beat the snot out of it.  Maybe it's because my mom has a maltese (who I helped raise) and Daisy is half maltese.  I don't know.  The whole thing just makes me want to cry.  I know she's posted rewards for Daisy, however I don't have much hope she'll be found.  At least, not alive.

We have problems with coyotes out where my parents live.  They're awful vermin.  They carry on screetching all night long, and they eat people's pets.

Yeah, they eat them.  That's why I don't think that Daisy will be found.  I hope there was some miracle and I'm wrong.  But I know what coyotes do.

We're so paranoid about coyotes out by my parents.  The dogs never go outside alone after dark, and they are on a leash EVERY TIME.  It can be hard for a coyote to take a small dog when it's tethered to the ground. Of course they can still do a lot of damage to a small dog even if they can't carry it off.  It ever I'm watching the dogs outside when it's dark out and they start acting strange, they come inside IMMEDIATELY.  I don't care if they went to the bathroom or not. You cannot take a chance on a strange animal lurking in the shadows that you can't see--then suddenly running out and snatching your pet.  Your best bet is to start shouting loudly (even if it's midnight) and clap your hands, that ought to scare the predator away.  And get the pets in the house.  Go get a flashlight and shine it into the shadows and woods.  If something is out there, its eyes will glow back at you.  And by the time you've got a flashlight it should take off.  Wild animals do not like flashlights shined in their eyes.

You have to trust me on this.  I have ALOT of experince.

I know lots of people (most everyone who lives in the country) thinks that their pets should be allowed to run free and it's mean to tie up the dog.  This is not the case.  Tie up your dogs, people.  Trust me, it will probably save their life some day.  I will not even begin to list the evidence I have because it's long...

People should tie up their kids too....kidding!  Although I would totally tie up my kid with a leash if I took him to the State Fair or the mall.  Anyway, I've had two nights of hanging around with the children at my new job.  They are so funny!  And a lot smarter than I gave them credit for.  I guess I assumed that kids under 12 didn't really understand much as far as adult concepts, etc.  Boy was I wrong.  The four and five year olds maybe not so much, but after that they're sharp as tacks.  The nine year olds tonight were so mature I thought they were much, much older.

But the five year olds were so cute.  They were so excited to learn their dance steps-first position, plie and jump.  They were so happy when they could do it by themselves.  But then they put on their tap shoes.

It was the first week of class.  Lots of people don't have their shoes yet, or know what they should wear to dance, etc.  It's not a big deal.  A few of the little girls in that class didn't have their shoes yet because they were on order/hadn't been ordered.  Whatever.  They weren't alone.  In ballet they were fine because ballet shoes are soft and no one misses it if you're barefoot.

But when you have tap shoes on, and you're five and everyone else is making joyful loud noise and you're barefoot...so not okay.  One of the little girls who didn't have tap shoes was just devistated.  She stood in the corner and cried.  My boss even took off her tap shoes and offered to tap barefoot with her, but it still wasn't okay.  She was so sad she couldn't tap.

Now here's the really sad part--I completely understood how she felt.  I've been in that situation many times, and when I was that age I cried hysterically too.  In fact, last year I'd ordered my tap shoes before the first class, and they didn't come in time.  I was the only one in the class without tap shoes.

And I wanted to stand in the corner and cry just like that little girl.  Now I was 26 years old and had a bit of a handle on my emotions, but I still wasn't happy (then my boss realized she had a pair of taps I could fit into so I got to wear some anyway).

I left wondering why I still feel like that when everyone else has something that I want.  I wanted to sit down and cry with her tonight, which is silly.  All I can figure out is that since I was an only child, I was used to getting my way and not sharing with everyone else. I wonder if she is too?

Oh the joys of growing up without siblings...

Jail bait

(In reference to my last blog "the sixth grader in the 11th grader's body")

When I was younger, I looked much older than I really was.  Without getting into too much gorey detail, we'll just say I hit puberty in about 5th grade and "developed" rapidly from there.

Now here's the flip-side: when I graduated high school, I started aging backwards.  Or stopped aging.  Whatever you want to say.  When I was young: "(to the 13 year old) are you going to be a junior this year?" Me: No.... "(to a 15 year old) so did you pick a college?  You graduate this year, right?" Me: Noo....

But suddenly: "(to a college freshman) so which high school did you transfer to? You're still in high school, right?" Me: Noo....  "(after of college) So you're still in college, right?  Are you a sophomore?" Me: Noo....

Yeah, it got bad.  Once, when I was 24, I went to the Mall of America and actually got carded because it was after curfew...FOR SIXTEEN YEAR OLDS!!  Geez....  that mall cop was embarassed.

But, I think the most hysterical case of mistaken age happened 2 days after my sixteenth birthday.

It was the summer of 1998, and we had fairly new neighbors my parents had befriended.  At this point, they'd been friends for about 5 months.  I'd been at their house for dinner several times, they'd been over to our house, etc.

Well, that night they asked us over for dinner (he was an amazing cook) and told my parents to make sure that I came along because her youngest brother was in town and they wanted to hook us up, so to speak (of course they said something like date).

If you read my previous post even a bit carefully, you understand that I was very excited at the possibility of fresh meat.

So we went to their house.  And I met the brother.  He was cute.  Very cute.  But right away I knew something was off.

He had a beard.

And I thought, "I don't think this guy is very close to my age..."  But I waited to see.  We sat on their patio overlooking the Lowes Creek bluffs and chatted about life.  My dad asked him where he went to school and what he was up to this summer.

Well, you know he had quite a busy schedule since he had been interning in South America after graduating FROM COLLEGE!!!

That was enough for me.  I headed into the house where Jim was preparing dinner and sat across from him at the counter.

"Hey, so what do you think of Julie's brother?" he asked with a grin.

"He seems nice," I replied.  "How old is he?"

"24," Jim said casually, pushing peices of beef, garlic, onion and rosemary, all soaked in red wine onto skewers (I told you he was a good cook!! It makes my mouth water just thinking of it...)

"Oh," I said finally.  "How old do you think I am?"

"21," he shrugged.

"My birthday was on Thursday, you know,"

"Yeah, happy birthday by the way,"

"Thanks.  I turned sixteen,"

The poor man's jaw dropped and he nearly dropped the food.  He looked one inch away from cardiac arrest.

"Yeah," I shook my head, once again in disbelief that someone could so grossly mis-judge my age.  "That's just not going to happen."

Pretty sure that's illegal :)

One time I tried to join the football team

One time I joined the football team.

Okay, you got me.  I tried.  Did not succeed.

It was the end of 7th grade, and we were having our fall sports meetings for the next year.  Since this was middle school, basically each coach just picked a spot in the gym and if you wanted to join that sport, you went and stood by them and they told you what would be involved.

I'd gone through this process a year ago, at the end of 6th grade.  I picked cheerleading.  I'm sorry, I like cheering for boys and I like skirts.  Sue me.  And some of my classmates would have liked to.  I still remember I was standing at my yellow locker downstairs right after the sign-ups, and my friend Kelly called out to me.

"Hey, you're not seriously going to be a cheerleader, are you?" she asked, horrified.

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes at her.  "Why not?"

"Because it's degrading to women!  You're running around in a tiny skirt like a piece of meat for men!  You are promoting the image of women that the women's movement has worked to erase for a hundred years!" she screeched. (Yes, we were only 12.)

"So?" I grinned.  "I like skirts and I like boys and I like it when they stare at me like a piece of meat," (Says the 6th grader with the body of an 11th grader--no really, and that's a funny story too!).

Kelly took off in a huff.  She didn't know how she would ever get through to me (she never did, I still like to do it and am planning to audition for a pro-sports dance team next month).

Well anyway, I did do cheerleading and discovered that middle school cheerleading wasn't quite the glamorous world I'd imagined it to be.  Mostly because my squad captian hated my guts. (She scarred me for life-literally-she dropped me porposely in a sunt and gave me whiplash which plauged me for years).  Also, our coach was a tiny bit phsycotic.  She was supposed to be the coach the next year too, but she went insane about two weeks into the season and quit.  After that the program fell apart.

So the next year I wanted to do something different.  Actually, I had an entire sports plan written up for myself so I could play every single sport once. (However it's hard to play sports when you're on academic probation!)  I'd been planning to play volleyball the fall of my 8th grade year since 6th grade.  In fact, this was the plan of most of the girls in my class.

But not my then-best friend Olivia. She HAD to be different.

A little background: In sixth grade I had a group of 4-myself, my (still to this day) best friend Laura, Olivia, and Jenny.  We were all in the same class.  A lot of times (for partner work and such) it was me and Jenny, and Laura and Olivia.  However after the first quarter, Jenny moved in with her mom which required her to change schools.

Know how they say "three's a crowd?"  Oh hell yes.  Especially with me and Olivia, two volitale, strong willed, opinionated personalities battling for one very meek, sweet girl.  Laura would never hurt a fly.  And Olivia and I were each determined that she was going to be MY best friend-not yours!!!!  I laugh now when I think of the things we used to say and do to each other.  And Laura would be stuck in the middle, begging us to just please get along-she could be best friends with both of us!  But Olivia and I would not have it.  It had to be our way or the highway.  Every other week Olivia and I were officially NOT FRIENDS and then we were great friends the next week.

We made some other friends after sixth grade and none of us were in the same classes in seventh grade so that really helped our friendship stay intact.  So Olivia and I were on good terms when we marched down to the gym that sunny May afternoon, with several other of our girl friends. (Laura didn't go, she never had an interest in playing sports, she was a musician, thru and thru.)

And as we're walking down to the gym, Olivia announces her big plan.

She's going to join the football team.  And we're going with her.

Of course I objected immediately, I already had my 2 year sports plan set up and I was going to be cool and play volleyball.  You would think given our history this would have caused a huge blow-out.

Actually, I was the first one whose mind Olivia changed.  She knew just how to get to me.  Boys.  All she had to do was tell me that I could not only spend extra time after school with my crushes on the football team, BUT have an excuse to stare at them AND throw myself on top of them! (And possibly even go in their locker room).

That was all she had to say.  I was ready to be suited up right then and there.  A little boy crazy was I?  Just a little... (Yeah right, I had a sixth sense for testosterone and went running towards it screaming like those Axe commericals any time it was detected.)

Our other friends weren't convinced so easily.  I think Olivia gave them some kind of speech about women's rights (you are probably wondering what kind of liberal school I went to!) and progress and how if we were all equal then we should forage the way for other women to play any kind of sport regardless of sex... (At which point Lara went, "Sex?  Did you say Sex? Where?? When??!!!)

She got them convinced enough to go to the meeting.  So it was a parade of 3 hesitant girls, 1 very confident and stubbron girl and 1 very excited, rabid, boy-crazy nut case that seated themselves in the front row of the football meeting.

The boys, naturally, did not like this at all.  They booed.  The 3 wafflers waffled.  Lara drooled.  The football coach said, "what are you doing here?  You can't join the football team!"  To which Olivia snapped my jaw closed, marched up to the coach, and gave him a firey speech about how women had equal rights and if we wanted to play football then he damned well couldn't stop us.  He shrugged and said okay.

The 200+ boys behind us booed louder and shouted insults. Lara fought the urge to dive into the middle of them.  Our 3 wafflers nearly got up and ran to the volleyball meeting.

But we stayed for the whole meeting.  And afterwards I grabbed volleyball permission slips for us all in addition to the football ones, in case our parents didn't go for this whole idea.

I was right.  They didn't.  My mother nearly chopped her hand off when I asked her if I could join the football team.  So then I handed her the volleyball permission slip and asked if I could do that instead.  She signed immediately.  "Anything but football," she muttered.  "My Lord what is wrong with you?" 

I figure Olivia helped me out a lot, because if I would have just asked to play volleyball right off I would have had a long battle about my terrible grades and if I should play or not.  But our other friends parents, for fear of their daughters being killed, had also said no.

Except for Olivia's.  They said yes.

Now most girls would have said, if my friends aren't doing it with me, then I won't do it.  Especially girls in middle school.  But I think by now you know, Olivia is not most girls.

So while the rest of us marched onto the volleyball courts in the fall of 8th grade, Olivia suited up in the boys locker room (after the boys were gone of course) and played football with the boys.

How was it, you ask?  Did she win a huge battle for women-kind everywhere?

Um...no.  The coach rarely played her, and when he did, the boys refused to tackle her or give her the ball.  Even the boys from the other middle schools.  Wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole.  Personally I think this was because they were afraid she'd kick their ass.

And they were right-she would have.  :)

Sometimes the Internet is Not my Friend

Sometimes the internet is too hard for me. I've been messing with this blog for hours, trying to figure out how to get my twitter on here because my good friend Emily's twitter is on her blog and I was jealous.

And so I asked her how to do and she told me--but I didn't read clearly what she wrote, thinking I knew what she was talking about, and I missed a key word that made the whole process work.

Blog doesn't give you the option to just add twitter. You have to SEARCH add twitter.

Oh Lordy.  I was so frusterated finally I went back and read what she told me to do AGAIN, then caught the phrase "type in search bar."  

Sometimes I think I should go back to school for web design.  It's days like today that make me think I shouldn't bother.

I took web design in college.  God, yes, college.  That was almost five years ago.  I took it either my freshman or sophomore year, I don't remember.  Either way we're talking 2001 or 2002.  That was a long freaking time ago.  And I wasn't very good at it.  Now if it was my sophomore year (I think it was) then I really didn't have any mental energy or time to devote to it.  If I could do any year over, it would be my sophomore year.  It was horrible.  And it was completely my fault.

Anyway web design wasn't great for me.  I could write simple html code and I can still read it, but I remember none of it.  I know how to erase it.  I know its rules.  But I don't remember the commands.  I don't remember the grade I got but I don't think it was very good.  Maybe a C.  Of course, I'm the student who does the absolute bare minimum and still gets As and Bs. Don't you hate me?  Sometimes I think, "oh if only I'd applied myself in school!"

Thing is about school, I resent it.  I love school, but mostly for the social aspect (odd, considering I was a total outcast when I lived in Wisconsin).  I resented teachers telling me that I had to pay attention to them in class, and I resented them telling me how I should spend my time outside of their class. (I should do HOMEWORK when I get home?  Hell no!)  Eventually I did start doing homework, but just to get it done, not to really learn anything.

Yeah, that's right.  I didn't do homework until my freshman year in high school.  Really.  Not unless my parents sat down with me and forced me to do it and that was only after they'd gotten threatening phone calls from my teachers saying I was failing.

I had a lot of issues as a child.  If I'd been in school a few years later, I'm sure they would have diagnosed me with ADD and put me on drugs.  My Sunday School teacher used to call me the Devil Child (I was the pastor's daughter!).  And my personal issues...I don't know if this website has enough MB to let me list all my personal issues from growing up...

So now you're realizing that maybe the reason I'm so random is not just because I'm a random person but because it's the ADD.... (LOOK! SHINY OBJECTS!!!!! OMG A CAT!! I NEED TO PAINT THE HOUSE!!!)

That's a taste of my inner monolouge...  and I have to do things with my hands or I go insane.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, 9th grade.  I started doing homework in 9th grade.  After I almost had to repeat 8th grade (or at least summer school) I decided that NOT doing homeowork might be harder than actually doing homework.

So the first day of school, I sat in class, tried real hard to pay attention, wrote down my assignments and took them home and did them (actually I did most of it in homeroom, cleverly evading HOMEwork).  And it was EASY.  A lot easier than NOT doing homework.

By now, my parents had given up on me.  They probably didn't think I was going to make it through high school.  Probably though I'd get a job at McDonalds asking "do you want fries with that?"

So after the first week of school, I made my mom a deal.

We were sitting in the kitchen, and I said, "Mom, if I get straight A's this quarter, can I do cheerleading again?" (I'd been banned from sports because of my grades)

She laughed hysterically.  I think she said something like I could play football if I got straight A's (that's not far fetched, I asked her if I could play football once. My best friend did, she was the only girl on the team because the rest of us girls had parents who said no. more on that later.)

I'll never forget the look on her face when I handed her my first quarter report card.  It was all A's and one B+.  She almost fell over on the floor.  And I went to cheerleading tryouts!

Okay I should go eat dinner right now. Maybe I'll write again later, at least about the time we all tried to join the boys football team.

Until....later....

When it rains, it pours

My title is ironic. Because it was supposed to rain all day here and we haven't seen a drop.

It's my life that is too much right now. This is what happens when I come out from behind my computer and come out of my writer's bubble.

It seems like everything is happening lately. Ross has been doing good at his job, which is great because mine sucks. If you don't know when then read a few blogs ago. I found another email today between the bad boys. One said to the other "slap the girls for me." WTF??!!! Slap the girls? That is so wrong on so many levels. I cannot even tell you what I'd like to do to them. There are more emails that I found today, but I can't even think about them. My head hurts too much. It's like as soon as I think I'm done with all this, more drama comes to the surface.

I just had a vacation and I already need another one. At least from this job. I have another job. I love my new job, it's just a little hard with this stupid other one.

So I have 2 jobs now. My kitty wants attention. Ross wants attention. My first job is horrible. We got a new camera I want to play with. I would love to write... My sister has lots of issues (job, child, boy, college) and needs help. My car is a disaster area. My house needs me to finish touch-up painting it. It also needs to be cleaned. The litter box stinks, I can smell it from here. Thanks a lot Ross, that was your job. My best friend is getting married and that comes with all kinds of events and parties. I have lots of things I need the internet to take care of and can no longer go on the internet at work because of dumb asses. Now I have to do it all at home and I'm not getting home until 9-10pm. Everyone needs something.

I swear, I do not understand how I just had 3 days off and feel like they never even happened. My stress level is just as bad as it was before I left. How is that possible?

I'm watching the Real World "Sh*t they should have shown" right now. It is sooo funny. I'd rather watch this than the whole stupid season.

Seriously though, when I think about it, it's been a ridiculous end to this summer. All kinds of crazy stuff has been happening. Work, incidents with former coworkers, life in general.

Maybe I'll go into this later. Right now I'm having trouble stringing thoughts together.

I'm going to see Joe Mauer on Tuesday! I'm excited. 3 Twins games left at the dome that I will be attending. And I am dissapointed about my seats but I'll get into that later.

Until tomorrow....

My Fan Friday Debut...

So tonight I thought I'd post my Twins blog for Fan Friday here. Just because. It was my first attempt at sports blogging. I hope it's okay. I'm more of a creative writer. I had Ross read it, but I had to wake him up to do it (Yeah it was only 8pm and he was sleeping, he's sleeping again now and it's only 8:50) anyway he said it was good and since my cat can't read I'll have to take his word for it. It's too late now, it's been emailed.
Enjoy! Until tomorrow...maybe. Depends on what time I get off work. It's Labor Day weekend and of course we're headed to Three Lakes. Duh.

One More Month…
Today marks one month left of baseball in the Dome. I feel like this season has flown by, and I can’t believe we’re almost out of the Dome forever (okay except for Vikings games…)

Like our hero #7, who is my age, I’ve never known baseball without the Dome. I’ve never known sports without the Dome - silly me, a few years ago I thought that most baseball and football teams shared stadiums. That’s normal, right?

My first Twins game was May 18, 1995. Not our best stuff. It was a tough year for baseball in general. I was disappointed, because not only we lost to the Angels (I think it ended up being something like 0-12), but because everyone who knew I was going (I was living in Wisconsin at this time so driving to the Cities was a big deal) told me I was so lucky because I was going to get to watch Kirby Puckett, and he was really fun to watch.

Now they’re talking to a 12-year-old girl who knows nothing about baseball. I guess I expected him to do magic tricks out there or something (of course now I know about the World Series and all that). He came to he plate, swung the bat a few times, and I thought, “this is what everyone was raving about?”

Sadly I was turned off to baseball for quite awhile after that very long and hideous game. A few years ago I picked it up again, realizing the man who cost my high school football team our State Championship title in the 1999 season was playing front and center. (Yes, I did get out of Wisconsin and move to the good state!)

Okay, I was a little bitter, but he was cute. And good. Really good. The more I learned about the Twins the more I realized how different they were from the other teams. How special. The more I learned about baseball I realized what an anomaly Joe is. And what it truly means for someone to be “fun to watch.” I had a lot of help with learning about baseball. I read “Clearing the Bases” by Mike Schmidt, “Odd Man Out” by Matt McCarthy (I realize not the most popular book to a lot of people) and right now I’m getting through “The Yankee Years” by Joe Torre and Tom Verducci.

But “The Yankee Years” has made me think about the Twins a lot this season. Yeah, we hate the Yankees but we can learn from them. In 1998 when they had the best season and won the World Series, they are described as having “a desperation to win.” Granted, they had one of the most perfect parings of teams. But they were desperate to win. Which makes me wonder, are we desperate to win? We could have the most perfect team in the world, but if we don’t really want it and every single person isn’t willing to pull their weight, we won’t get it.

A few weeks ago, I would have said, “I know for sure that Joe Mauer, Justin Morneau, Joe Nathan, Michael Cuddyer and Jason Kubel want to win a World Series. They’re desperate.” But they also seemed to be carrying the team by themselves. Now things have shifted and suddenly the bottom of the lineup is engaged, too. And things really turned around. (We will forget about Wednesday and White Sox).

But what does it take for us to get to that point where suddenly everyone is contributing? Was it seeing the Sox and the Tigers suddenly slip, and realizing that it wasn’t over for us? Did someone give a really moving speech in the clubhouse? Was is the acquisition of all our new players?

We might never know. I hope that we can keep it up. I hope our guys can stay hungry and desperate for a victory. We’re not as bad as the Cubs by any stretch of the imagination, but we’re certainly due. We have too many talented players to not take it into the post season. And of course I’ve been told the AL Central is the worst division in baseball and even if we won it, someone else would immediately knock us out. But why can’t we be the underdogs? The Yankees did it in ’96. No one thought they would either.

So stay desperate boys! Keep playing small ball, and remember that every single person plays an important role. Joe Mauer has some really big shoulders, but not big enough to carry you all into the post-season.

Sometimes I wish the Internet had never been invinted...

The last few days have been awful. I've had bad times at my job before, but this was the worst of the worst. I don't think there have ever been more times I've almost walked out. I went so far as to take all my personal stuff on my computer and burn it onto a dvd so I could just delete it and walk away.

The trouble started on Monday. I've had some really hideous Mondays, but this I think will go down in history.

There was a special project we did for a county here in Minnesota, and there was an error when it printed and parts of words were missing. I mean, it was really obvious that it was a printing error, not them being idiots, but they were furious.

I think furious is even an understatement. We're supposed to be meeting with their lawyer.

Yeah, a lawyer. Of course my boss is terrified, she was certain she was going to be fired. Our company has fired people for a lot less. She thought they were going to demand she be fired (they still might, haven't had the meeting yet). Anyway, yesterday our head bosses told her she would not be fired so that was a relief.

So in the midst of all that, we've been having problems with our other co-workers. They've simply stopped working, yet we fear that they think we're the ones who aren't working because we have the ability to multi-task (balancing internet use with work).

We were right.

Monday afternoon one of the other managers handed my boss a sheet of paper and said "I don't even know what to tell you to do with this. I'm sorry."

It was an email from one of our problem coworkers to one of his employees. This employee basically called us out, complained that we never did anything, that none of the other employees liked us, said our skills were terrible...attacked us on every level. I read the e-mail. I wanted to kill this person. He attacked me personally, as well as her. And now I have to work with him and pretend like nothing is wrong.

I was furious. I used every four letter word in the book. I usually avoid confrontation like the plague, but I wanted to go right up to him that second and scream, "if you have a problem with me you better f*cking say it RIGHT NOW!" Really I would have done it.

But we couldn't let him know that we knew about the email.

So I had to go home and sit on my anger (with a few glasses of wine) and try to figure out why this person would turn on us like this (he's never acted as if he was hostile, not once.) I was a zombie. I was so angry. I'm still a bit angry, but I feel more justified now so I'm okay. I have no use for this person anymore, however. Unless it's work related, I'll never speak to him again. Unless he apologizes, and that won't happen because I'm not supposed to know about the email. I don't even think he apologized to my boss and he knows that she knows about the email. Someone else not in our department was involved in this email also, I won't be speaking to that person either for a long, long time. (they're not as guilty as he is, but still guilty.)

And I'd have to think he knows that I know about the email. He'd have to be an idiot not to. I've been freezing him out for two days. I think our head boss knows that I know because he barely said anything to me in our meeting, seeming like he figured I knew what was going on. And the owner of our company is furious. He was screaming about this issue to another department, complaining about "insubordination" and "respect." Of course they were totally confused because they had no idea what was going on. I was glad to hear that the owner of the company is on the side of me and my boss. And our other head boss? He called the problem people "a bunch of idiots." I laughed.

I feel better because now they know that they can't get away with crap like this. My boss and I have years at that company, we've paid our dues. We're at the top of that department and we worked our fingers to the bone getting there. We put blood sweat and tears into that job and I'm sorry, we earned some internet time some days! We shouldn't have to work our asses off like we did 4 years ago when we were just out of college. Apparently, some people have a problem also working their way up. They think some angry emails can get them our jobs.

Guess again ass holes.

I just love how it backfired on them. Because they thought that they could get rid of us by complaining about stupid things and everything came back in their face. "Let him who is without spot or blemish cast the first stone..." Well believe me, they weren't without spot. At all. And now it's all come out into the open and I've loved watching them fall off their high horses and realize they're one step away from being fired, because my boss and I have both been there in the last three days and I love seeing the bad guys in that position.

The guilty email writer wrote at one point: "no, I don't want to stay anonymous, use my name! Tell them it was me! I want it put up on a billboard on {the highway}."

So to him I say, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? Because everyone knows what you did, we hate you, and it almost got you fired. So honestly, WAS IT WORTH IT???

Honestly, I wanted to print the email again, stick it on the bulliten board, highlight that sentance and write under it "Well you got your wish. Now it's here for everyone to see. And guess what? You're fired."

My one regret is that this got so out of hand, we all got our internet taken away. We're not allowed to do anything that's not work related anymore. We (my boss and I that is,) had a good balance going. And now it's all shot to hell because of these ass holes. I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I was a fast worker and had plenty of time for internet use. Now I have plenty of time to stare blankly at my computer. Wonderful.

Until tomorrow....(I'll let you know if they show up to work or not!)