Due to the graphic nature of this post I urge you to proceed with caution. Weak stomachs need not continue.
While I'm on a baby kick I'd like to talk about some things that you should NOT do once you've squeezed that little ray of sunshine out your lady shoot. I give these suggestions out of the well being of your child and the rest of the world who has to be exposed to this.
#1: I will never have the... pleasure?... of having a baby suckle on my breast. Thank God. But for those of you who do have this distinct pleasure I'm very happy for you and fully support it. I also fully respect it; not necessarily agree with it or appreciate it, but respect your right to do this. I also respect your right to do this in pubic. I would however not like to have to see it. Please take the time to put a blanket, an apron, even a paper bag over yourself so others, or at least I don't have to be witness to our bologna sized areola; I told you this was going to get graphic.
Today as I was walking into Coffee Garden to reward myself with some sort of treat for being proclaimed cavity free for my 29th consecutive year, my attention was quickly drawn to a woman sitting at a table outside with her baby lying in her lap. She caught my attention because said woman proceeded to slide her arm out of her t-shirt and through the bottom and slide it up onto her shoulder. Get the picture? On a vomit inducing side note, she had also decided to go braless today. So there she was flapping around in all her stretched out glory as she shoved her baby onto her teet. Ok, I get that, I just happened to come along at the wrong moment, surely she'll cover herself. Wrong. She just sat there reading her magazine, sipping her coffee and bonding with junior. I know you caught the look of horror that graced my face because she scowled at me as if to remind me that it was her beautiful right to pull that out in front of 25 innocent and shocked patrons. Again, I respect your right to do this, and I hope you'll respect my right to do this as well if I so choose. But I promise you this, if I decide to let someone suck on my body parts in public I will throw a towel over their head.
#2: I understand that from time to time your baby is going to need to be changed. And on that note, please do it when it happens and no later, no one wants to have to smell that. It's not cute. However, when you do actually change its butt, maybe you could do it where the rest of us don't have to see it. You might also want to do it where your baby isn't going to catch an STD, for example directly on the sidewalk in front of 7-11?
This week I decided I would again reward myself for not drinking Diet Coke for a week by getting a Diet Coke. I never said my reward system made sense. As I paid for my 32 ounces of liquid gold and walked back out to my car, I couldn't help but notice the woman to the right of the door, you know, where the anti-freeze displays are, changing her baby on the cement. I was shocked. I thought maybe I should run in and get her one of those delicious hot dogs that had been rolling back and forth on the grill all day. She must be homeless I thought, no self-respecting apartment dwelling mother would change her child on the cement in front of 7-11. No, I was wrong. After she was done she went back to her car, a Honda Pilot. She's not homeless, those aren't cheap cars. I know because I drive one. Damn thing sucks my paycheck every month. Do you really think it's a good idea to change your baby on the sidewalk? I know for a fact that I've spit, wiped my shoes and any other number disgusting, unmentionable things on that sidewalk. I dropped a Slurpee in front of that very 7-11 just the week before. I know the idea of changing your baby in the bathroom of 7-11 or on one of those disgusting changing tables in the bathroom is enough to make you want to poop your own pants, but they've got to be better then the sidewalk.
#3: Once Little Precious is old enough to trot around on his own, at perhaps the Coffee Garden, please put shoes on him and bathe him, and don't give give him a mullet. Not sure if anyone told you, but it's 2009, though acceptable at derbies and monster truck rallies, here in mainstream, liberal, downtown Salt Lake City we like our kids clean, clothed and groomed. It's just gross to have to try and eat in a restaurant while your little bastard is skipping through all the tables with no shoes on. Ok, I'll even let this pass from time to time. I get it, sometimes a kid is hard to wrangle into the bathtub and you'd just rather not deal with it and you can't very well leave him home while you go to coffee, then you should stay home too. You chose to have this baby, deal with the consequences. You made your bed, sleep in it. I support your alternative lifestyle, I picket for your rights, I go to your ward functions, but please don't blatantly throw it in my face! Again, once in a while I can let this pass. I understand, you've seen all your stories and want some adult interaction and have to get out of the house but have to take him along. When you do please take some Benadryl along to sedate him. My mom did it, and I turned out moderately ok, right? If you're not going to sedate him then tie him to the table. If in his annoying skipping tangents I have to see him fall into the glass counter and cut his head open and then bleed all over the floor while he screams bloody murder and you try to stop the gushing blood with a small drink napkin and don't rush him to the hospital as is obviously appropriate then... well there is no then... just take care of your kid. Gross.
I know, there are only three suggestions on child rearing here, but these were the worst offenses I encountered this week and wanted to address the issues. Basically it goes like this, when trying to decide what to do with your kid ask yourself once question, WWND. What would Nick do? I know I don't have kids, but I'm 99.9% sure that I could raise them better then some of these dumb ass parents I see everyday.
Obviously none of you reading this. You do a wonderful job and I consider your children to be part of my intimate circle of friends. :)
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
How to Induce Labor, Nick Robbins Style
As of recent I've realized many of my friends have found themselves in a particularly uncomfortable situation: They've gone and gotten themselves knocked up and can't seem to get the damned thing out. This post is for you. I've done a little research and would like to fill you all in on the details. This is a very lengthy post, but I believe worth your time and entertainment. Obviously my social life is jam packed.
Here's your best bet for getting your little bastard out of there by ASAP. Side note, I do understand that not all of my friends are having bastard children, I just think it's such an endearing pet name. It has been rumored that the chicken pizza at Trio will induce labor and let me tell you why. Both basil and oregano are herbs contraindicated (I don't know what the word means, I copied if off the Internet to sound smarter) in pregnancy due to their potential ability to start labor. Italian food anyone? Maybe that is why the pizza works! Holler! You may have also heard that spicy foods will help you squeeze your little one out of there. You actually need to avoid spicy foods like hot peppers. This is due to the fact that certain spicy foods release capsasins, which may be counterproductive in labor. When the baby descends down the birth path (bear with me, this is graphic), the pressure exerted releases endorphins into the woman's body. These endorphins are a natural pain-killer. In effect, the capsasins counteract the endorphins and rob the mother of her ability to have a pain-free birth. AKA, no bueno. It is also rumored that licorice will help induce labor. Licorice, the real licorice candy, the black kind, the nasty kind, is thought to also stimulate the production of prostaglandins. This is due to the chemical, glycyrrhizin. This is because eating lots of licorice might result in mild diarrhea, which causes intestinal contractions that may lead to sympathetic uterine contractions and therefore PUSH him outa there. This type of licorice can also be found in tablet form which may be easier to take if you can't choke down that nasty shit. On a side note, though not effective in childbirth, might I suggest cherry or strawberry licorice for your late night craving. I prefer Red Vines and Nips. Now, here's something to consider if you do decide to go down this route. Even though the diarrhea may induce labor, it probably won't be a pretty sight when you're actually giving birth.
There are also some techniques you can try to get him out of there quicker, too.
Sex. See, your husband WAS right! Sex is the most well known induction technique because it works the best. I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume a man proposed this theory. I am a man a basically we all think about food and sex. Some get into things like sports or cars or some random thing like that; I prefer Martha Stewart and organizing but we all have our hobbies. Semen contains natural prostaglandins (cervical ripening agents... Mmm) that can help your cervix ripen, and who doesn't want a ripe cervix? Who I ask you?! In addition, sex or sexual activities are relaxing and that too can start labor. You may have to use some imagination, as most women are very uncomfortable, AKA can't roll over, in the last stages of pregnancy, but the effort might have you meeting your baby sooner rather than later and your husband happier than ever!
Movement. Movement such as walking, skipping, lunging, swimming or swinging (on a park swing) can help labor to begin. Notice roller blading is not an option. This is due to the fact that it's not safe, or 1992. Skipping is my preferred method, and if you do decide to go for a skip will you let me know so I can get an ice cream and watch? It is believed these activities help the baby rotate into a good position for childbirth. Taking a bumpy car or train ride also has the same advantages. Light Rail anyone?
Relax. The more you stop obsessing over getting it out, the more likely labor will start. Labor will not begin in a stressed body. So forget about it. Go have a drink, go clubbing, just relax girls. Maybe you need to tell your boss that you need the next two weeks off to rest and relax... and go to lunch with me a few more times.
Fruit. I'm not talking about just having a hilarious gay friend around for good times, I mean tropical fruit like pineapple, mango and kiwi which actually contain an enzyme that may help tone your cervix. This fruit will probably not start labor, though with a toned cervix, early labor may go a little faster and again, not only will your cervix be ripe, but it will be toned! Who doesn't want a toned cervix, too?! I know I do! Do men have a cervix?
Talk to Your Baby. Some cultures, I don't think this includes Americans, believe that babies that have not been welcomed will not come into the world. It sounds silly, and quite frankly crazy but talking to your baby and making them feel welcome may bring on labor. May I suggest doing this in a private area where no one can see you?
Acupressure and Chiropractics. Some acupressure and chiropractic techniques can start labor. Talk to your care provider, friends or check the Internet to find a practitioner in your area. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say bypass friends and the Internet and talk to your doctor about this one, and I don't mean your herbalist (this reference will be more funny as you continue reading)
Castor Oil. Castor oil is an old technique that is not recommended anymore, even though Kate Gildea and Gwyneth Paltow say it's a good idea. It does the same thing spicy foods do, it irritates the bowels aka diarrhea during birth, and is THAT the first thing you want your child to experience when he enters this world? It can also cause nausea and is pretty disgusting to ingest. In addition, castor oil rarely works. Gwyneth swears by it when she's feeling a little stopped up and needs to lose that last pesky 10 lbs for a role. 10 lbs Gwyneth? Bitch.
Herbal Supplements. Evening primrose oil (EPO), black and blue cohosh, red raspberry (I'm pretty sure a red raspberry, or even a blue raspberry Slurpee counts here), leaf tea and nettle tea are not recommended unless you have the permission of an herbalist or your care provider. Do you have an herbalist? You may need to get on that. Dosages for these supplements have not been determined, and taking too much can cause serious complications, including death, for your baby.
I hope all of these ideas work. It's Monday so if you play your cards right you might be able to get that little guy out and take the rest of the week off. You have 4 days to get to work on getting that little guy out, after that, wait until next Monday, you don't want to ruin your weekend Good luck!
Here's your best bet for getting your little bastard out of there by ASAP. Side note, I do understand that not all of my friends are having bastard children, I just think it's such an endearing pet name. It has been rumored that the chicken pizza at Trio will induce labor and let me tell you why. Both basil and oregano are herbs contraindicated (I don't know what the word means, I copied if off the Internet to sound smarter) in pregnancy due to their potential ability to start labor. Italian food anyone? Maybe that is why the pizza works! Holler! You may have also heard that spicy foods will help you squeeze your little one out of there. You actually need to avoid spicy foods like hot peppers. This is due to the fact that certain spicy foods release capsasins, which may be counterproductive in labor. When the baby descends down the birth path (bear with me, this is graphic), the pressure exerted releases endorphins into the woman's body. These endorphins are a natural pain-killer. In effect, the capsasins counteract the endorphins and rob the mother of her ability to have a pain-free birth. AKA, no bueno. It is also rumored that licorice will help induce labor. Licorice, the real licorice candy, the black kind, the nasty kind, is thought to also stimulate the production of prostaglandins. This is due to the chemical, glycyrrhizin. This is because eating lots of licorice might result in mild diarrhea, which causes intestinal contractions that may lead to sympathetic uterine contractions and therefore PUSH him outa there. This type of licorice can also be found in tablet form which may be easier to take if you can't choke down that nasty shit. On a side note, though not effective in childbirth, might I suggest cherry or strawberry licorice for your late night craving. I prefer Red Vines and Nips. Now, here's something to consider if you do decide to go down this route. Even though the diarrhea may induce labor, it probably won't be a pretty sight when you're actually giving birth.
There are also some techniques you can try to get him out of there quicker, too.
Sex. See, your husband WAS right! Sex is the most well known induction technique because it works the best. I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume a man proposed this theory. I am a man a basically we all think about food and sex. Some get into things like sports or cars or some random thing like that; I prefer Martha Stewart and organizing but we all have our hobbies. Semen contains natural prostaglandins (cervical ripening agents... Mmm) that can help your cervix ripen, and who doesn't want a ripe cervix? Who I ask you?! In addition, sex or sexual activities are relaxing and that too can start labor. You may have to use some imagination, as most women are very uncomfortable, AKA can't roll over, in the last stages of pregnancy, but the effort might have you meeting your baby sooner rather than later and your husband happier than ever!
Movement. Movement such as walking, skipping, lunging, swimming or swinging (on a park swing) can help labor to begin. Notice roller blading is not an option. This is due to the fact that it's not safe, or 1992. Skipping is my preferred method, and if you do decide to go for a skip will you let me know so I can get an ice cream and watch? It is believed these activities help the baby rotate into a good position for childbirth. Taking a bumpy car or train ride also has the same advantages. Light Rail anyone?
Relax. The more you stop obsessing over getting it out, the more likely labor will start. Labor will not begin in a stressed body. So forget about it. Go have a drink, go clubbing, just relax girls. Maybe you need to tell your boss that you need the next two weeks off to rest and relax... and go to lunch with me a few more times.
Fruit. I'm not talking about just having a hilarious gay friend around for good times, I mean tropical fruit like pineapple, mango and kiwi which actually contain an enzyme that may help tone your cervix. This fruit will probably not start labor, though with a toned cervix, early labor may go a little faster and again, not only will your cervix be ripe, but it will be toned! Who doesn't want a toned cervix, too?! I know I do! Do men have a cervix?
Talk to Your Baby. Some cultures, I don't think this includes Americans, believe that babies that have not been welcomed will not come into the world. It sounds silly, and quite frankly crazy but talking to your baby and making them feel welcome may bring on labor. May I suggest doing this in a private area where no one can see you?
Acupressure and Chiropractics. Some acupressure and chiropractic techniques can start labor. Talk to your care provider, friends or check the Internet to find a practitioner in your area. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say bypass friends and the Internet and talk to your doctor about this one, and I don't mean your herbalist (this reference will be more funny as you continue reading)
Castor Oil. Castor oil is an old technique that is not recommended anymore, even though Kate Gildea and Gwyneth Paltow say it's a good idea. It does the same thing spicy foods do, it irritates the bowels aka diarrhea during birth, and is THAT the first thing you want your child to experience when he enters this world? It can also cause nausea and is pretty disgusting to ingest. In addition, castor oil rarely works. Gwyneth swears by it when she's feeling a little stopped up and needs to lose that last pesky 10 lbs for a role. 10 lbs Gwyneth? Bitch.
Herbal Supplements. Evening primrose oil (EPO), black and blue cohosh, red raspberry (I'm pretty sure a red raspberry, or even a blue raspberry Slurpee counts here), leaf tea and nettle tea are not recommended unless you have the permission of an herbalist or your care provider. Do you have an herbalist? You may need to get on that. Dosages for these supplements have not been determined, and taking too much can cause serious complications, including death, for your baby.
I hope all of these ideas work. It's Monday so if you play your cards right you might be able to get that little guy out and take the rest of the week off. You have 4 days to get to work on getting that little guy out, after that, wait until next Monday, you don't want to ruin your weekend Good luck!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Open Mouth, Insert Foot, High School Reunion Edition:
So this last weekend I had the pleasure of attending my 10-year high school reunion. I would like to take this time to help anyone who will be attending a reunion in the future with what NOT to say at a class reunion. Please don’t take this opportunity to learn from your own experiences. Take my mistakes and learn from them.
Scenario #1: Walking around the restaurant talking to people:
Nick: Hi (insert classmate’s name here), wow, you look really great! How have you been?
Classmate: Fine. You saying I was ugly in high school?!
Do not take offense when someone tells you that you look great. And by no means ask if you were ugly in high school. You really want to go down that road? Yes, you were ugly in high school and as a matter of fact I didn’t even recognize who you were until I read your nametag and was shocked as shit to see that your teeth are no longer parallel with the floor. For hell sakes, I know I look better than I did in high school. I mean I don’t have braces or a bowl cut. Score one for Nick. I’ll take any compliments you want to give me and you should graciously do the same. Even if you don’t look better, be happy that someone was kind enough to lie their asses off as to not hurt your feelings.
Scenario #2: Checking in people at the entrance of the restaurant:
Nick: Hi. I’m sorry; you’re going to have to remind me of your name.
Classmate: My name is (insert classmate’s name here), NICK! Thanks for remembering.
Seriously? Seriously?! You’re going to give me that? It’s been 10 damn years and per scenario #1 we have all changed. I can barely remember my names of my family members let alone some jackass that I was only friends with because my whole pathetic high school existence depended on your voting for me. I tried my damnedest to study the yearbook for the last 6 months but obviously it didn’t help. I’m sorry. Please remember to put your maiden name on your nametag.
Scenario #3: Saying goodbye to people at the end of dinner:
Nick: Thanks for coming. It was great to see you. I hope you had fun.
Classmate: I paid $30 for that?
Yes, you did in fact pay $30 for that, you ungrateful son of a bitch. Be happy we didn’t charge you $50. If you happen to not be planning the reunion because you are busy and/or weren’t elected to this God forsaken life-long office, don’t complain. Contrary to popular belief those of us who plan these things do actually have lives outside of high school. I know you imagine that we all get together once a week in our sweaters for bowling and eat fries while making fun of people. We do actually have jobs, and kids, and go to school, and take heavy doses of anti-depressants… just like you! So give us your money, smile pretty and eat your food.
Scenario #4: Talking to someone at the family picnic that I have absolutely no recollection of. I’ve read your nametag, examined your face and still have no clue in hell who you are. Are you homeless and just saw that we had lunch available so you stopped in.
“Classmate”: It’s so good to see you. I always liked you. Wasn’t high school fun? How’s your mom?
Nick: My mom?
“Classmate”: Yeah, your mom: how is she?
Nick: My MOM?
“Classmate”: Yeah, how’s her health?
Nick: Not good. She’s dead.
If you in fact have decided to crash a class reunion and are trying to make small talk to fit in, let’s try and keep it pretty surface level and broad. If you did in fact graduate with that person and you don’t really know anything about them, don’t talk about family members you never met. Try talking about the weather. Try talking about how good, or how shitty for that matter, that food was. Talk about things that you’re not going to get caught in a lie with.
Scenario #5: Walking around talking to people at the family picnic:
Nick: Your kids are sure cute!
Classmate: Oh thanks, they sure are fun.
Nick: How old are they/
Classmate: This one is 7, this one is 5, and this one is 3.
Nick: (leaning down to the kids) Hi there, I’m your dad’s friend Nick, what’s your name?
Kid #1: “Sally”
Kid #2: “Joey”
Kid #3: nothing
Nick: (to classmate) Awe, he’s a quiet little guy isn’t he?
Classmate: (tapping small boy on the shoulder) Tell him your name… (IN AMERICAN SIGN LANGUAGE!!!)
Yes Nick, he IS a quite little guy. He’s quiet because he’s deaf! Holy shit. I don’t have any advice for this. Just make sure you check for hearing aids before you open your mouth and insert your foot like I did. Or maybe as a parent you could hang signs around your kids’ necks informing others of how NOT to embarrass themselves. “I’m blind” “I’m deaf” “I have Turrets”. This would be very helpful, and in order to help you out I will wear a sign that says, “I’m an insensitive ass hole”
Scenario # 6: A large group of people sitting on benches talking and pretending like we care about what the others have to say:
Nick: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
Classmate #1: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
Classmate #2: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
Classmate #3: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
Nick: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah (yes, I talk more than most people)
Classmate #4: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
This entire some little kid is running around and hitting people. All the while his mommy just giggles and calmly tells him to stop. He continues. Randomly people will try and grab him and hold him near them to stop the inflicting of pain and annoyance. Finally I do the same thing and lean over and whisper in his ear
Nick: I’m not as nice as the other people here, hit anyone again and I’ll kick your ass.
I let him go and he promptly ran over to his mom and behaved like a little angel for the rest of the afternoon.
I am not a proponent of disciplining other people’s children, but I AM a proponent of actually disciplining your own kids. I understand that kids are kids and are full of energy and venom. I love a spitfire kid just as much as the next person. I don’t actually think you should medicate your cute little kid who runs around like a wild man. But if it’s obvious that he’s annoying the hell out of everyone and hitting and biting and pinching, and kicking, maybe it’s time to pull out your taser. Do it or I will.
At the end of it all I had a great time and really loved seeing and talking to 99.9% of the people who came, and even enjoyed meeting their little ankle biters. I hope this helps anyone who is in the throws of getting ready to attend a high school reunion. You’re welcome.
Scenario #1: Walking around the restaurant talking to people:
Nick: Hi (insert classmate’s name here), wow, you look really great! How have you been?
Classmate: Fine. You saying I was ugly in high school?!
Do not take offense when someone tells you that you look great. And by no means ask if you were ugly in high school. You really want to go down that road? Yes, you were ugly in high school and as a matter of fact I didn’t even recognize who you were until I read your nametag and was shocked as shit to see that your teeth are no longer parallel with the floor. For hell sakes, I know I look better than I did in high school. I mean I don’t have braces or a bowl cut. Score one for Nick. I’ll take any compliments you want to give me and you should graciously do the same. Even if you don’t look better, be happy that someone was kind enough to lie their asses off as to not hurt your feelings.
Scenario #2: Checking in people at the entrance of the restaurant:
Nick: Hi. I’m sorry; you’re going to have to remind me of your name.
Classmate: My name is (insert classmate’s name here), NICK! Thanks for remembering.
Seriously? Seriously?! You’re going to give me that? It’s been 10 damn years and per scenario #1 we have all changed. I can barely remember my names of my family members let alone some jackass that I was only friends with because my whole pathetic high school existence depended on your voting for me. I tried my damnedest to study the yearbook for the last 6 months but obviously it didn’t help. I’m sorry. Please remember to put your maiden name on your nametag.
Scenario #3: Saying goodbye to people at the end of dinner:
Nick: Thanks for coming. It was great to see you. I hope you had fun.
Classmate: I paid $30 for that?
Yes, you did in fact pay $30 for that, you ungrateful son of a bitch. Be happy we didn’t charge you $50. If you happen to not be planning the reunion because you are busy and/or weren’t elected to this God forsaken life-long office, don’t complain. Contrary to popular belief those of us who plan these things do actually have lives outside of high school. I know you imagine that we all get together once a week in our sweaters for bowling and eat fries while making fun of people. We do actually have jobs, and kids, and go to school, and take heavy doses of anti-depressants… just like you! So give us your money, smile pretty and eat your food.
Scenario #4: Talking to someone at the family picnic that I have absolutely no recollection of. I’ve read your nametag, examined your face and still have no clue in hell who you are. Are you homeless and just saw that we had lunch available so you stopped in.
“Classmate”: It’s so good to see you. I always liked you. Wasn’t high school fun? How’s your mom?
Nick: My mom?
“Classmate”: Yeah, your mom: how is she?
Nick: My MOM?
“Classmate”: Yeah, how’s her health?
Nick: Not good. She’s dead.
If you in fact have decided to crash a class reunion and are trying to make small talk to fit in, let’s try and keep it pretty surface level and broad. If you did in fact graduate with that person and you don’t really know anything about them, don’t talk about family members you never met. Try talking about the weather. Try talking about how good, or how shitty for that matter, that food was. Talk about things that you’re not going to get caught in a lie with.
Scenario #5: Walking around talking to people at the family picnic:
Nick: Your kids are sure cute!
Classmate: Oh thanks, they sure are fun.
Nick: How old are they/
Classmate: This one is 7, this one is 5, and this one is 3.
Nick: (leaning down to the kids) Hi there, I’m your dad’s friend Nick, what’s your name?
Kid #1: “Sally”
Kid #2: “Joey”
Kid #3: nothing
Nick: (to classmate) Awe, he’s a quiet little guy isn’t he?
Classmate: (tapping small boy on the shoulder) Tell him your name… (IN AMERICAN SIGN LANGUAGE!!!)
Yes Nick, he IS a quite little guy. He’s quiet because he’s deaf! Holy shit. I don’t have any advice for this. Just make sure you check for hearing aids before you open your mouth and insert your foot like I did. Or maybe as a parent you could hang signs around your kids’ necks informing others of how NOT to embarrass themselves. “I’m blind” “I’m deaf” “I have Turrets”. This would be very helpful, and in order to help you out I will wear a sign that says, “I’m an insensitive ass hole”
Scenario # 6: A large group of people sitting on benches talking and pretending like we care about what the others have to say:
Nick: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
Classmate #1: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
Classmate #2: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
Classmate #3: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
Nick: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah (yes, I talk more than most people)
Classmate #4: Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
This entire some little kid is running around and hitting people. All the while his mommy just giggles and calmly tells him to stop. He continues. Randomly people will try and grab him and hold him near them to stop the inflicting of pain and annoyance. Finally I do the same thing and lean over and whisper in his ear
Nick: I’m not as nice as the other people here, hit anyone again and I’ll kick your ass.
I let him go and he promptly ran over to his mom and behaved like a little angel for the rest of the afternoon.
I am not a proponent of disciplining other people’s children, but I AM a proponent of actually disciplining your own kids. I understand that kids are kids and are full of energy and venom. I love a spitfire kid just as much as the next person. I don’t actually think you should medicate your cute little kid who runs around like a wild man. But if it’s obvious that he’s annoying the hell out of everyone and hitting and biting and pinching, and kicking, maybe it’s time to pull out your taser. Do it or I will.
At the end of it all I had a great time and really loved seeing and talking to 99.9% of the people who came, and even enjoyed meeting their little ankle biters. I hope this helps anyone who is in the throws of getting ready to attend a high school reunion. You’re welcome.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Going Private
Hi Folks,
I'm applying for some jobs and am making my blog private. If you are still interested in reading please email me. robbins.nick@gmail.com. Happy reading!
-Nick
I'm applying for some jobs and am making my blog private. If you are still interested in reading please email me. robbins.nick@gmail.com. Happy reading!
-Nick
Thursday, June 4, 2009
It's go time!
UPS, I HATE YOU!!!!!
UPS, I HATE YOU!!!!!
I'm VERY angry right now and my rant my not make any sense. Bear with me...
So UPS and I are in a HUGE fight right now. I HATE them. A couple of weeks back I purchased a few t-shirts from the Banana. A few is maybe an understatement. I bought about $200 worth of t-shirts. So last Thursday I found a notice on my door telling me that UPS had been by but couldn't leave the package. They'd be back the next day. Well, therein lays the problem. I work and therefore cannot be home when they drop the package off. So I left a nice note telling them that they had my permission to leave the package at my front door. Well, Friday afternoon I came home to find the same notice with a boxed checked stating that they had come by a second time. So I called UPS to find out why on earth my package wasn't left. They informed me that it was up to the discretion of the driver as to whether or not they wanted to leave the package. They won't deliver on Saturday or Sunday nor could I come by and pick it up. Monday morning rolls around and this time I left another note. It read: "Dear UPS, LEAVE THE PACKAGE!!!! I release you from any responsibility of this package. I am not home until after 8pm. If you want to deliver it after that, that's fine. Otherwise LEAVE THE PACKAGE. Thanks, N. Robbins." You would think this would suffice. Oh no. I come home to find another notice telling me this was their third and final attempt to drop off my package and that it would now be sent back to the shipper. As you can imagine I am now FUMING mad!! I call UPS again and tell them that I want my package delivered NOW!! She tells me that they only attempt delivery once in a day and that if the driver got back to the office before they closed I could come pick it up there. She called later that day to tell me the driver wouldn't be in until late and that my package would be sent back to the Banana. I am SOOO pissed at this point I am yelling at her. Tuesday was a shitty day all together. I woke up with an ear ache and called in sick to work. I decided that I'd go to lunch with Suzie and enjoy what I could of my day off. Not anticipating that UPS was coming back anytime soon; they only make three attempts, I was surprised to find yet another notice on my door. This time telling me that they had decided to try and deliver it one last time. Well a phone call would have been nice. Had I known they were coming, I would have stayed home. This time the phone call was not nice. It went something like this:
UPS: Hello UPS
NKR: Hi, this is Nick Robbins. Apparently your driver attempted to deliver a package to me today and I wasn't home when he came by. I am usually not home and I wasn't' anticipating him coming by today. Had he called I could have stayed home.
UPS: I'm sorry sir. It looks like in the notes that he had decided to give it one last shot.
NKR: I told them to leave the package the last 4 times I called
UPS: Well that's up to the driver as to whether or not they feel comfortable doing that
NKR: I don't care if the driver is comfortable. I want my package left
UPS: You can't authorize that sir
NKR: It's my damn package! LEAVE IT!
UPS: Well sir there's no point now, the package will be shipped back to Banana Republic today
NKR: Then what
UPS: Then Banana Republic will resend it
NKR: Then we go through this all over again? When will I finally get my package!?
UPS: When you are home to accept the package
NKR: I'M NEVER HOME TO ACCEPT A PACKAGE!!!! WHY DON'T YOU PEOPLE UNDERSTAND THIS?!
UPS: Listen sir, I'm willing to do this for you. If the package gets back tonight I will call you and stay late so you can pick it up. Will that work.
NKR: Yes, that's fine. Thank you for helping me
A few hours later I get a calling telling me that if I can pick up my package by 7:30 I can have it. Well that's certainly nice, but it was 7:18!! I hate them. Well I knew I could make it to UPS if I drove fast enough and prayed hard enough. I live near the 9th and 9th neighborhood of Salt Lake City and UPS is in West Valley. It’s at least a 30 minute drive. Of course there’s construction on the 210 so it’s not going to take 40-45 minutes and I have 12 minutes. I should note there that I drive like a grandma; going above the speed limit is a feat for me. I was passing drivers right and left, flipping them off and swearing like a sailor (nothing new there). I finally made it to UPS at 7:42. I was 12 minutes late. I saw the area where customers can pick up packages and it was locked up. I then saw the area where the UPS trucks arrive and depart. I was going in there. I knew that just because they door was locked and they were closed there was still someone in that will-call department. And if all else fails I’m pretty sure there is at least ONE competent person at UPS who can get my package. I was wrong. As I drove through the truck gate I was swarmed by the UPS SWAT Team (old men in brown Dickies), waving me down and yelling for me to stop. The circled my car like a gang and told me I was trespassing into unauthorized territory. You’d think I’d just tried to break into the Pentagon. I relayed my story yet again which only made me more upset. They told me that the only way to get my package was through the will-call office. I decided this was not good enough. I took my foot off the break and my car lurched forward. Did you know that UPS security guards carry guns? I was unaware of this until last night. I agreed to leave the premises but warned them that if I didn’t have my package in my hands (get your mind out of the gutter) by the next day I was not going to be as accommodating. I’m pretty sure they knew I was serious because they then told me they were calling the cops. I decided I had better leave. I am now going to take a break from work and go retrieve my shirts. I hate you UPS!
UPS, I HATE YOU!!!!!
I'm VERY angry right now and my rant my not make any sense. Bear with me...
So UPS and I are in a HUGE fight right now. I HATE them. A couple of weeks back I purchased a few t-shirts from the Banana. A few is maybe an understatement. I bought about $200 worth of t-shirts. So last Thursday I found a notice on my door telling me that UPS had been by but couldn't leave the package. They'd be back the next day. Well, therein lays the problem. I work and therefore cannot be home when they drop the package off. So I left a nice note telling them that they had my permission to leave the package at my front door. Well, Friday afternoon I came home to find the same notice with a boxed checked stating that they had come by a second time. So I called UPS to find out why on earth my package wasn't left. They informed me that it was up to the discretion of the driver as to whether or not they wanted to leave the package. They won't deliver on Saturday or Sunday nor could I come by and pick it up. Monday morning rolls around and this time I left another note. It read: "Dear UPS, LEAVE THE PACKAGE!!!! I release you from any responsibility of this package. I am not home until after 8pm. If you want to deliver it after that, that's fine. Otherwise LEAVE THE PACKAGE. Thanks, N. Robbins." You would think this would suffice. Oh no. I come home to find another notice telling me this was their third and final attempt to drop off my package and that it would now be sent back to the shipper. As you can imagine I am now FUMING mad!! I call UPS again and tell them that I want my package delivered NOW!! She tells me that they only attempt delivery once in a day and that if the driver got back to the office before they closed I could come pick it up there. She called later that day to tell me the driver wouldn't be in until late and that my package would be sent back to the Banana. I am SOOO pissed at this point I am yelling at her. Tuesday was a shitty day all together. I woke up with an ear ache and called in sick to work. I decided that I'd go to lunch with Suzie and enjoy what I could of my day off. Not anticipating that UPS was coming back anytime soon; they only make three attempts, I was surprised to find yet another notice on my door. This time telling me that they had decided to try and deliver it one last time. Well a phone call would have been nice. Had I known they were coming, I would have stayed home. This time the phone call was not nice. It went something like this:
UPS: Hello UPS
NKR: Hi, this is Nick Robbins. Apparently your driver attempted to deliver a package to me today and I wasn't home when he came by. I am usually not home and I wasn't' anticipating him coming by today. Had he called I could have stayed home.
UPS: I'm sorry sir. It looks like in the notes that he had decided to give it one last shot.
NKR: I told them to leave the package the last 4 times I called
UPS: Well that's up to the driver as to whether or not they feel comfortable doing that
NKR: I don't care if the driver is comfortable. I want my package left
UPS: You can't authorize that sir
NKR: It's my damn package! LEAVE IT!
UPS: Well sir there's no point now, the package will be shipped back to Banana Republic today
NKR: Then what
UPS: Then Banana Republic will resend it
NKR: Then we go through this all over again? When will I finally get my package!?
UPS: When you are home to accept the package
NKR: I'M NEVER HOME TO ACCEPT A PACKAGE!!!! WHY DON'T YOU PEOPLE UNDERSTAND THIS?!
UPS: Listen sir, I'm willing to do this for you. If the package gets back tonight I will call you and stay late so you can pick it up. Will that work.
NKR: Yes, that's fine. Thank you for helping me
A few hours later I get a calling telling me that if I can pick up my package by 7:30 I can have it. Well that's certainly nice, but it was 7:18!! I hate them. Well I knew I could make it to UPS if I drove fast enough and prayed hard enough. I live near the 9th and 9th neighborhood of Salt Lake City and UPS is in West Valley. It’s at least a 30 minute drive. Of course there’s construction on the 210 so it’s not going to take 40-45 minutes and I have 12 minutes. I should note there that I drive like a grandma; going above the speed limit is a feat for me. I was passing drivers right and left, flipping them off and swearing like a sailor (nothing new there). I finally made it to UPS at 7:42. I was 12 minutes late. I saw the area where customers can pick up packages and it was locked up. I then saw the area where the UPS trucks arrive and depart. I was going in there. I knew that just because they door was locked and they were closed there was still someone in that will-call department. And if all else fails I’m pretty sure there is at least ONE competent person at UPS who can get my package. I was wrong. As I drove through the truck gate I was swarmed by the UPS SWAT Team (old men in brown Dickies), waving me down and yelling for me to stop. The circled my car like a gang and told me I was trespassing into unauthorized territory. You’d think I’d just tried to break into the Pentagon. I relayed my story yet again which only made me more upset. They told me that the only way to get my package was through the will-call office. I decided this was not good enough. I took my foot off the break and my car lurched forward. Did you know that UPS security guards carry guns? I was unaware of this until last night. I agreed to leave the premises but warned them that if I didn’t have my package in my hands (get your mind out of the gutter) by the next day I was not going to be as accommodating. I’m pretty sure they knew I was serious because they then told me they were calling the cops. I decided I had better leave. I am now going to take a break from work and go retrieve my shirts. I hate you UPS!
Sunday, May 31, 2009
25 Things you Never Knew you Wanted to Know About Me
1: I fantasize on an almost daily basis about winning an Oscar and what I will say in my acceptance speech when I win an Oscar. When I’m lying in bed, brushing my teeth, driving, talking to people, writing this, I’m thinking about who I will thank, what I will say, what funny one-liners I will give, the tear-jerking stories I’ll tell. I don’t want a Grammy, don’t need a Golden Globe, don’t care about the Tony’s. I want and Oscar. I love the Oscars. I’m obsessed with the Oscars. The Oscars are more important to me than Christmas, Mother’s Day and my birthday all combined X 10.
2: I already know the house I want to live in when I “grow up”. I want to live in Katharine Hepburn’s house in Fenwick, Connecticut. There aren’t many pictures of what it looks like in all its restored beauty but here’s an old one:
http://www.ctrivervalley.com/images-pictures-photos-of/Aerial-Photos-Pictures-CT/Connecticut-Attractions/55A-Katharine-Hepburn-House.jpg
Now imagine it cleaned up and slightly sandblasted so more of the natural brick and rock is exposed from under the white paint with additional sections with cedar shake shingles. It’s now been outfitted with a covered porch surrounding the entire thing and has robin’s egg blue shutters, doors and trim and a slate roof. BEAUTIFUL! I want a house with this east coast, New England, nautical look. LOVE IT! Somewhere out there, there’s an issue of Architectural Digest with a major spread covering the whole restoration. If anyone has that I will pay you for it. I’ll pay you in baked goods and hugs.
3: I couldn’t WAIT to graduate from college and now, if I could go back to I would in a heartbeat! I had the BEST time of my life in Logan. I was not an exceptionally applied student but I had a great time! I don’t necessarily want to go back to class, just back to hanging out with friends playing in Cache Valley, planning activities, and having a metabolism and constitution that supports a constant diet of frozen pizzas, microwave burritos, Kool-Aid, ice cream, little to no physical activity and four or less hours of sleep a night… Aw the life! When I started college I wanted to study broadcast journalism and my academic advisor told me I couldn’t because I “didn’t have a face for television”. Of course I believed her until a few years down the road I realized there were a lot of ugly people on the news and I totally could have done it. Crushed my dreams!
4: I usually consider myself to be a pretty articulate, educated, FUNNY, engaging, outgoing and extroverted individual. HOWEVER when I am in a date situation I turn into a bumbling, awkward, tongue-tied, socially backward idiot. I get so nervous and awkward I can barely begin to think about anything remotely worth talking about. I would like to apologize now to anyone I have dated in the past, may date at the present time or might date in the future for being so weird. I really am a fun guy!
5: I HATE, repeat HATE doing the dishes. I’m living for the first time in a house that doesn’t have a dishwasher. I didn’t realize that until I ran out of dishes that I would have to actually wash them, and then I realized that I didn’t know how. To which I had to call my friend Tara and have her walk me through the entire, awful dishwashing process. In fact I do not do my dishes. I will use every dish in my house and then pack them up in a laundry basket and drive them to my dad’s where I can put them in the dishwasher. It’s a legitimate skill. One that I’m humble enough to admit that I do not posses. On that note, I also hate doing laundry. I am incredibly anal about the laundering of my clothes and it just takes so much time and effort to get it right. I’d rather just go buy new ones than even bother… I should probably be medicated for this.
6: I love to write. I write a blog which even cracks me up. Most of the time it’s pretty random and I go on tangents but it’s a good time. www.nick-robbins.blogspot.com. One of the greatest compliments I ever received was when my professor Nancy Williams told me that I had “a very strong and descriptive voice.” I was beaming inside. Speaking of my blog cracking me up, I can also sit alone in a room and make myself legitimately laugh… I should probably also be medicated for that.
7: I am much more sensitive than I let on. I also worry if I ever think I’ve hurt someone’s feelings or offended them. I’m usually pretty open about the way I feel and all too often put myself out there, and all get my feelings hurt, but you will never know because again, I don’t want anyone to potentially feel bad that they’ve made me feel bad. It’s totally healthy. You will NEVER be witness to this, but on occasion I just need to good scream or cry or some other emotional outburst. Totally appropriate. Referring back to #4, I’m now sure I’ve scared off any potential dates I may have had to apologize to for any potential awkwardness. I also enjoy multitasking so that fact that I just killed two birds with one stone is fantastic! Holler!
8: I’m addicted to TV and movies. End of story. I used to wish that I was one of those people that liked to relax by reading a book. But then I realized that when I relaxed I wanted to turn my brain off and reading just didn’t do it for me. But TV… Oh my! Tvo has changed my life; I can watch three shows at the same time and never miss a thing, plus I can basically watch TV all day long. As far as movies go, I’m pretty easy going about what I will watch, and enjoy. I just like to sit and relax and watch an entirely foreign world unfold in front of me. I have not however seen any of the Harry Potter movies or Lord of the Rings. I like being that one person who hasn’t seen them. I wish I could say that about Twilight. AWFUL.
9: My first job in high school was working at the Golden Corral in Layton, Utah. I worked in the meat cutting area; gross, I know. My mom told me not to get a job and so I had to prove her wrong and show her that I could hack it. Oh, she knew me all too well. After working there for about an hour I saw a VERY large woman come to the counter and fill her tray, not her plate, her tray, with mashed potatoes, meat, corn, rolls, you name it, she piled it high and deep on her tray. I got so sick I started dry heaving behind the counter. I went back to the manager and told him that I didn’t feel well. He asked if was sick and needed to go home. I told him, “yes, but it’s working that makes me sick” and I needed to quit. Well we sat there in awkward silence so I grabbed a steak knife off his desk and said, “and I’m taking this with me!” He gave me $20 and told me I had to launder my apron and bring it back. I dropped it in the dumpster in the parking lot but kept the steak knife. I still have it. Best knife ever.
10: I’m a hardcore shower and car singer. I belt out as loud as I possibly can with all the passion and soul that my body will allow. I don’t always know the right words or sing in tune but I think I’ve got mad skills.
11: There are VERY few people in the world who know what I am about to confess. This is a very deep dark secret. I am a closeted, well not so closeted Marie Osmond fan. Yes, I do own her CD’s and yes, I listen to them, and yes I know the lyrics to her songs and yes I sing along with her and no I don’t care what anyone thinks. I don’t care for Donny, I guess I’m just a little country. End of story. In other entertainment news I am also secretly obsessed with Raven Samone. I don’t know what time it comes on but if I’m flipping through the channels and I happen to run across “That’s so Raven” I will full on stop and watch the whole thing. I find myself laughing out loud at it. I think she’s hilarious. I also love to watch “The Barefoot Contessa”, Ina Garten. I Tvo her everyday and before I go to bed I get all ready and grab my blanket and lay on the couch and watch an episode of her show. I think it’s the most calming, relaxing, comforting thing in the world. She reminds me of a chubby version of my mom. :D
12: I am addicted to Diet Coke. More specifically I am addicted to Diet Coke in rabbit poop ice. If you’re unaware of what rabbit poop ice is, it’s the kind of ice they serve at Sonic Drive-In. I love packing a cup FULL of rabbit poop ice and the drizzling Diet Coke over it like a snow cone. Dr. Pepper is good, but Diet Coke is crack to me. I also love Twinkies. I know, gross and ghetto. I don’t care. I love them. When I was younger and my parents would travel I would tell them to “bring me home a prize” which really meant “bring me home a Twinkie”. They could travel around the world and bring me home a piece of the Berlin Wall and I’d toss it aside for my Twinkie. I didn’t really comprehend that I could walk down to the store and get one any time I wanted. I just thought they were available as souvenirs. A Diet Coke a Twinkie and People Magazine and I’m in Heaven.
13: I struggle with stupid people. It drives me crazy when people don’t take a little bit of a proactive approach to figuring out the world around them. Look around and ask yourself that burning question you have or go over in your own mind that brilliant statement you want to make before you ask or articulate it to the world. Can you figure it out on your own? Is the answer staring you in the face? Did I actually just give you the information you are about to ask for again? Really take a moment to figure it out. It will really help my urge to smack you upside the head, pull my hair out, run screaming from a building or stare at you like you just sprouted horns or had a bird crawl out of your mouth.
14: Now, after that last statement, I’ve had my own shining moments. One time I took my moms Jag through the car wash. It was one of those washes that you put your car in neutral and let the rollers move your car along. Well halfway through the wash I felt the car take a little raise and then drop down and stop where it was in the car wash. I then saw the rollers pass in front of the car and leave me stranded as the soap and water sprayed all around me. Well, I couldn’t just let the car sit there so I got out and started pushing the car out, getting soaked and sopped by the soap and water and brushes. It was awful, but obviously I didn’t have an option, I was stuck. Well when I got home I told everyone what had happened and what I had to do. After my heroic account my mom looks at me and says “why wouldn’t you just put the car in drive and drive out of the car wash?” That was a shining moment in my life.
15: I have been to several concerts, but there are a few that I have seen multiple times:
Reba: 5
Celine: 4
Cher: 2
These aren’t necessarily proud admissions, but they are what they are.
16: I want to have plastic surgery on my jaw. It’s crooked. I hate it. No one really notices it, and some people actually say it’s endearing, but I hate it. I know if it were fixed I would be 28.375% more attractive. I’ve done the math, and I’ve actually done all the preliminary work and know it will cost about $25,000 and will require me to have braces for about a year and have my jaw wired shut for about 6 weeks. HEAVEN! So if anyone would like to sponsor me to get my dream surgery done I’m always taking donations to the fund.
17: I remember the first day I shaved as vivid as it was yesterday afternoon. It was December 20th, 1993. I had just delivered my annual birthday gift of grape Fruit Roll-Ups and an ice cream roll cake to my lifelong crush Kara. We were sitting in her family room and she reached over rubbed my upper lip and said, “look who’s getting a little peach fuzz!” I was mortified. I quickly wrapped up what I was doing and ran home to my dad to notify him that I needed to learn to shave ASAP! Little did he know that lesson would lead to an obsession with shaving; shaving my legs, my arms, my chest… TMI…pretty much everything but my face. I think I only had to shave about once every other month until I hit my 20’s, now I only have to shave twice a week. I couldn’t grow a beard if my life depended on it. But honestly, how could my parents have let it go that far?
18: Ok, here it is, I love musical theater. I love live plays and musicals in general. Yes, I am that person. It has been a dark spot in relationships, as no one I’ve dated, and most of my friends pretty much think musicals are lame. My first trip to NYC was a dream come true. We went from show to show to show. I’d love to be in a Broadway musical, but referring back to item #1, I don’t care to ever win an award for it. I have my musical playlist on my iTunes and listen to it every morning while I shower. I put it on random but start every morning with “Memory” from Cats. Turn you judging eyes elsewhere.
19: I’m very proud to say that I have incorporated the term “douche bag” and the phrase “suck it” into professional meetings at work. Scenario #1: In a planning meeting for a high school leadership conference we were trying to decide what breakout sessions to have. The two topics being addressed were “campus inclusiveness” and “diversity”. Someone felt they could be incorporated into one session because they were so similar. I vehemently disagreed and said “I see diversity as a social justice issue, whereas campus inclusiveness is more of learning how not to be a douche bag to other students at your school.” At that point the intern taking notes stopped and starred at me to which the vice president leaned over to her and said “he said douche bag, that’s d-o-u-c-h-e b-a-g, douche bag”. Scenario #2: At another meeting discussion the organizations constitution, no one in the group could agree on what the document should say and kept finding problems with how everyone else’s suggestions could be misinterpreted. We were going nowhere so I raised my hand and said “why don’t we just keep it the way it is and just add at the bottom of the constitution “this document is subject to change at any time without warning or discussion so suck it!” We’re still working on it.
20: I drive like a grandma. I don’t understand people who rush around the roads like crazy people. If you plan accordingly there is no need to be in such a rush. And if you’re already late then you’re late, don’t worry about it, own it. Drive like a normal person. Most of time I’m driving along and realize I’m going 5-10 MPH slower than the speed limit. I’m a friendly, courteous, cautious, leisurely driver. I also love having a clean car. But I hate getting gas. It’s not because I don’t want to spend the money; though I do hate that, I just HATE the act of getting gas. I will drive my car until I am 10 feet of fumes from running out of gas. I have actually run out of gas no less than 12 times. The last time I ran out? Two weeks ago… on the freeway. I’m not even ashamed of this. Sorry Adam, I know it drove you crazy…
21: Last week I watched “The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants #2” without having seen the first one, and I got misty eyed. Ok, I cried. That’s all I’m going to say about this. I will also admit that more often then not Oprah makes me cry and I have yet to get through an entire episode of “The Biggest Loser” without shedding a few tears. I also can’t watch “Shallow Hal” without crying. I think it’s very sweet that he still loves her even though she’s fat. Tender!
22: I’ve been subscribing to Martha Stewart Living since I was in the 7th grade. I used to own every issue, then, when my dad sold my parent’s house, under pressure to downsize, I threw them away. I regret it every day. I’m trying to rebuild the collection.
23: I know everyone says it but I really do think I have the best family and friends in the world. My friends and I have been through some good times and bad times and am the person I am because of them. They keep me real, they keep me honest, they keep me fun. I am lucky to have stayed so close to them and see them regularly several times a week. My family is also the best. We are dysfunctionally close. And not just my immediate family. I am as close to my siblings and first cousins as I am to 4th and 5th cousins twice removed. My best friend is my aunt Barb who is actually my second cousin, but more like a sister to my mom. I never said we were normal. We spend all summer together at the lake and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We have huge family reunions, crazy knock down drag out fights, and we all know everything about each other and we still love each other. If you are ever invited to the lake; which only a VERY few people actually have been.. it’s that sacred to me… you too will be family, immediately. They are the most generous, giving, accepting, HILARIOUS, kind people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Someone once asked me what kind of life I expected to have if every time I had a problem I relied on my family for support. I told them I didn’t want to have a life that didn’t’ allow me to rely on when I needed support.
24: I HATE the snow and cold weather. I don’t ski, I don’t play in the snow. Sorry for anyone who thinks I’m a waste of a Utahan for this, but I don’t care. I fall into a deep dark depression every time it snows or drops below 50 degrees. I also refuse to scrape windows in my car. I will go out 20 minutes early if I have to and just crank up the heater and turn on the windshield wipers until it warms up enough to just wipe it away. I have self-diagnosed S.A.D. (Seasonal Affectedness Disorder). My doctor told me last week finally that I should consider light therapy. I just function better when I have on shorts and sandals and a kick-ass tan! My grandma, in her later, senile years, thought I was a Mexican every time I visited her because I get so tan in the summer. I’m not one of those people that wishes it was cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter. I want summer all year long. I love the heat and I love the sun and I love the summer.
25: Because I apparently have adult onset ADD, and I run off on tangents, and this has taken me about 2 weeks to accomplish I’m calling it quits. I’m making an executive decision to make this statement the 25th thing you didn’t know about me.
2: I already know the house I want to live in when I “grow up”. I want to live in Katharine Hepburn’s house in Fenwick, Connecticut. There aren’t many pictures of what it looks like in all its restored beauty but here’s an old one:
http://www.ctrivervalley.com/images-pictures-photos-of/Aerial-Photos-Pictures-CT/Connecticut-Attractions/55A-Katharine-Hepburn-House.jpg
Now imagine it cleaned up and slightly sandblasted so more of the natural brick and rock is exposed from under the white paint with additional sections with cedar shake shingles. It’s now been outfitted with a covered porch surrounding the entire thing and has robin’s egg blue shutters, doors and trim and a slate roof. BEAUTIFUL! I want a house with this east coast, New England, nautical look. LOVE IT! Somewhere out there, there’s an issue of Architectural Digest with a major spread covering the whole restoration. If anyone has that I will pay you for it. I’ll pay you in baked goods and hugs.
3: I couldn’t WAIT to graduate from college and now, if I could go back to I would in a heartbeat! I had the BEST time of my life in Logan. I was not an exceptionally applied student but I had a great time! I don’t necessarily want to go back to class, just back to hanging out with friends playing in Cache Valley, planning activities, and having a metabolism and constitution that supports a constant diet of frozen pizzas, microwave burritos, Kool-Aid, ice cream, little to no physical activity and four or less hours of sleep a night… Aw the life! When I started college I wanted to study broadcast journalism and my academic advisor told me I couldn’t because I “didn’t have a face for television”. Of course I believed her until a few years down the road I realized there were a lot of ugly people on the news and I totally could have done it. Crushed my dreams!
4: I usually consider myself to be a pretty articulate, educated, FUNNY, engaging, outgoing and extroverted individual. HOWEVER when I am in a date situation I turn into a bumbling, awkward, tongue-tied, socially backward idiot. I get so nervous and awkward I can barely begin to think about anything remotely worth talking about. I would like to apologize now to anyone I have dated in the past, may date at the present time or might date in the future for being so weird. I really am a fun guy!
5: I HATE, repeat HATE doing the dishes. I’m living for the first time in a house that doesn’t have a dishwasher. I didn’t realize that until I ran out of dishes that I would have to actually wash them, and then I realized that I didn’t know how. To which I had to call my friend Tara and have her walk me through the entire, awful dishwashing process. In fact I do not do my dishes. I will use every dish in my house and then pack them up in a laundry basket and drive them to my dad’s where I can put them in the dishwasher. It’s a legitimate skill. One that I’m humble enough to admit that I do not posses. On that note, I also hate doing laundry. I am incredibly anal about the laundering of my clothes and it just takes so much time and effort to get it right. I’d rather just go buy new ones than even bother… I should probably be medicated for this.
6: I love to write. I write a blog which even cracks me up. Most of the time it’s pretty random and I go on tangents but it’s a good time. www.nick-robbins.blogspot.com. One of the greatest compliments I ever received was when my professor Nancy Williams told me that I had “a very strong and descriptive voice.” I was beaming inside. Speaking of my blog cracking me up, I can also sit alone in a room and make myself legitimately laugh… I should probably also be medicated for that.
7: I am much more sensitive than I let on. I also worry if I ever think I’ve hurt someone’s feelings or offended them. I’m usually pretty open about the way I feel and all too often put myself out there, and all get my feelings hurt, but you will never know because again, I don’t want anyone to potentially feel bad that they’ve made me feel bad. It’s totally healthy. You will NEVER be witness to this, but on occasion I just need to good scream or cry or some other emotional outburst. Totally appropriate. Referring back to #4, I’m now sure I’ve scared off any potential dates I may have had to apologize to for any potential awkwardness. I also enjoy multitasking so that fact that I just killed two birds with one stone is fantastic! Holler!
8: I’m addicted to TV and movies. End of story. I used to wish that I was one of those people that liked to relax by reading a book. But then I realized that when I relaxed I wanted to turn my brain off and reading just didn’t do it for me. But TV… Oh my! Tvo has changed my life; I can watch three shows at the same time and never miss a thing, plus I can basically watch TV all day long. As far as movies go, I’m pretty easy going about what I will watch, and enjoy. I just like to sit and relax and watch an entirely foreign world unfold in front of me. I have not however seen any of the Harry Potter movies or Lord of the Rings. I like being that one person who hasn’t seen them. I wish I could say that about Twilight. AWFUL.
9: My first job in high school was working at the Golden Corral in Layton, Utah. I worked in the meat cutting area; gross, I know. My mom told me not to get a job and so I had to prove her wrong and show her that I could hack it. Oh, she knew me all too well. After working there for about an hour I saw a VERY large woman come to the counter and fill her tray, not her plate, her tray, with mashed potatoes, meat, corn, rolls, you name it, she piled it high and deep on her tray. I got so sick I started dry heaving behind the counter. I went back to the manager and told him that I didn’t feel well. He asked if was sick and needed to go home. I told him, “yes, but it’s working that makes me sick” and I needed to quit. Well we sat there in awkward silence so I grabbed a steak knife off his desk and said, “and I’m taking this with me!” He gave me $20 and told me I had to launder my apron and bring it back. I dropped it in the dumpster in the parking lot but kept the steak knife. I still have it. Best knife ever.
10: I’m a hardcore shower and car singer. I belt out as loud as I possibly can with all the passion and soul that my body will allow. I don’t always know the right words or sing in tune but I think I’ve got mad skills.
11: There are VERY few people in the world who know what I am about to confess. This is a very deep dark secret. I am a closeted, well not so closeted Marie Osmond fan. Yes, I do own her CD’s and yes, I listen to them, and yes I know the lyrics to her songs and yes I sing along with her and no I don’t care what anyone thinks. I don’t care for Donny, I guess I’m just a little country. End of story. In other entertainment news I am also secretly obsessed with Raven Samone. I don’t know what time it comes on but if I’m flipping through the channels and I happen to run across “That’s so Raven” I will full on stop and watch the whole thing. I find myself laughing out loud at it. I think she’s hilarious. I also love to watch “The Barefoot Contessa”, Ina Garten. I Tvo her everyday and before I go to bed I get all ready and grab my blanket and lay on the couch and watch an episode of her show. I think it’s the most calming, relaxing, comforting thing in the world. She reminds me of a chubby version of my mom. :D
12: I am addicted to Diet Coke. More specifically I am addicted to Diet Coke in rabbit poop ice. If you’re unaware of what rabbit poop ice is, it’s the kind of ice they serve at Sonic Drive-In. I love packing a cup FULL of rabbit poop ice and the drizzling Diet Coke over it like a snow cone. Dr. Pepper is good, but Diet Coke is crack to me. I also love Twinkies. I know, gross and ghetto. I don’t care. I love them. When I was younger and my parents would travel I would tell them to “bring me home a prize” which really meant “bring me home a Twinkie”. They could travel around the world and bring me home a piece of the Berlin Wall and I’d toss it aside for my Twinkie. I didn’t really comprehend that I could walk down to the store and get one any time I wanted. I just thought they were available as souvenirs. A Diet Coke a Twinkie and People Magazine and I’m in Heaven.
13: I struggle with stupid people. It drives me crazy when people don’t take a little bit of a proactive approach to figuring out the world around them. Look around and ask yourself that burning question you have or go over in your own mind that brilliant statement you want to make before you ask or articulate it to the world. Can you figure it out on your own? Is the answer staring you in the face? Did I actually just give you the information you are about to ask for again? Really take a moment to figure it out. It will really help my urge to smack you upside the head, pull my hair out, run screaming from a building or stare at you like you just sprouted horns or had a bird crawl out of your mouth.
14: Now, after that last statement, I’ve had my own shining moments. One time I took my moms Jag through the car wash. It was one of those washes that you put your car in neutral and let the rollers move your car along. Well halfway through the wash I felt the car take a little raise and then drop down and stop where it was in the car wash. I then saw the rollers pass in front of the car and leave me stranded as the soap and water sprayed all around me. Well, I couldn’t just let the car sit there so I got out and started pushing the car out, getting soaked and sopped by the soap and water and brushes. It was awful, but obviously I didn’t have an option, I was stuck. Well when I got home I told everyone what had happened and what I had to do. After my heroic account my mom looks at me and says “why wouldn’t you just put the car in drive and drive out of the car wash?” That was a shining moment in my life.
15: I have been to several concerts, but there are a few that I have seen multiple times:
Reba: 5
Celine: 4
Cher: 2
These aren’t necessarily proud admissions, but they are what they are.
16: I want to have plastic surgery on my jaw. It’s crooked. I hate it. No one really notices it, and some people actually say it’s endearing, but I hate it. I know if it were fixed I would be 28.375% more attractive. I’ve done the math, and I’ve actually done all the preliminary work and know it will cost about $25,000 and will require me to have braces for about a year and have my jaw wired shut for about 6 weeks. HEAVEN! So if anyone would like to sponsor me to get my dream surgery done I’m always taking donations to the fund.
17: I remember the first day I shaved as vivid as it was yesterday afternoon. It was December 20th, 1993. I had just delivered my annual birthday gift of grape Fruit Roll-Ups and an ice cream roll cake to my lifelong crush Kara. We were sitting in her family room and she reached over rubbed my upper lip and said, “look who’s getting a little peach fuzz!” I was mortified. I quickly wrapped up what I was doing and ran home to my dad to notify him that I needed to learn to shave ASAP! Little did he know that lesson would lead to an obsession with shaving; shaving my legs, my arms, my chest… TMI…pretty much everything but my face. I think I only had to shave about once every other month until I hit my 20’s, now I only have to shave twice a week. I couldn’t grow a beard if my life depended on it. But honestly, how could my parents have let it go that far?
18: Ok, here it is, I love musical theater. I love live plays and musicals in general. Yes, I am that person. It has been a dark spot in relationships, as no one I’ve dated, and most of my friends pretty much think musicals are lame. My first trip to NYC was a dream come true. We went from show to show to show. I’d love to be in a Broadway musical, but referring back to item #1, I don’t care to ever win an award for it. I have my musical playlist on my iTunes and listen to it every morning while I shower. I put it on random but start every morning with “Memory” from Cats. Turn you judging eyes elsewhere.
19: I’m very proud to say that I have incorporated the term “douche bag” and the phrase “suck it” into professional meetings at work. Scenario #1: In a planning meeting for a high school leadership conference we were trying to decide what breakout sessions to have. The two topics being addressed were “campus inclusiveness” and “diversity”. Someone felt they could be incorporated into one session because they were so similar. I vehemently disagreed and said “I see diversity as a social justice issue, whereas campus inclusiveness is more of learning how not to be a douche bag to other students at your school.” At that point the intern taking notes stopped and starred at me to which the vice president leaned over to her and said “he said douche bag, that’s d-o-u-c-h-e b-a-g, douche bag”. Scenario #2: At another meeting discussion the organizations constitution, no one in the group could agree on what the document should say and kept finding problems with how everyone else’s suggestions could be misinterpreted. We were going nowhere so I raised my hand and said “why don’t we just keep it the way it is and just add at the bottom of the constitution “this document is subject to change at any time without warning or discussion so suck it!” We’re still working on it.
20: I drive like a grandma. I don’t understand people who rush around the roads like crazy people. If you plan accordingly there is no need to be in such a rush. And if you’re already late then you’re late, don’t worry about it, own it. Drive like a normal person. Most of time I’m driving along and realize I’m going 5-10 MPH slower than the speed limit. I’m a friendly, courteous, cautious, leisurely driver. I also love having a clean car. But I hate getting gas. It’s not because I don’t want to spend the money; though I do hate that, I just HATE the act of getting gas. I will drive my car until I am 10 feet of fumes from running out of gas. I have actually run out of gas no less than 12 times. The last time I ran out? Two weeks ago… on the freeway. I’m not even ashamed of this. Sorry Adam, I know it drove you crazy…
21: Last week I watched “The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants #2” without having seen the first one, and I got misty eyed. Ok, I cried. That’s all I’m going to say about this. I will also admit that more often then not Oprah makes me cry and I have yet to get through an entire episode of “The Biggest Loser” without shedding a few tears. I also can’t watch “Shallow Hal” without crying. I think it’s very sweet that he still loves her even though she’s fat. Tender!
22: I’ve been subscribing to Martha Stewart Living since I was in the 7th grade. I used to own every issue, then, when my dad sold my parent’s house, under pressure to downsize, I threw them away. I regret it every day. I’m trying to rebuild the collection.
23: I know everyone says it but I really do think I have the best family and friends in the world. My friends and I have been through some good times and bad times and am the person I am because of them. They keep me real, they keep me honest, they keep me fun. I am lucky to have stayed so close to them and see them regularly several times a week. My family is also the best. We are dysfunctionally close. And not just my immediate family. I am as close to my siblings and first cousins as I am to 4th and 5th cousins twice removed. My best friend is my aunt Barb who is actually my second cousin, but more like a sister to my mom. I never said we were normal. We spend all summer together at the lake and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We have huge family reunions, crazy knock down drag out fights, and we all know everything about each other and we still love each other. If you are ever invited to the lake; which only a VERY few people actually have been.. it’s that sacred to me… you too will be family, immediately. They are the most generous, giving, accepting, HILARIOUS, kind people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Someone once asked me what kind of life I expected to have if every time I had a problem I relied on my family for support. I told them I didn’t want to have a life that didn’t’ allow me to rely on when I needed support.
24: I HATE the snow and cold weather. I don’t ski, I don’t play in the snow. Sorry for anyone who thinks I’m a waste of a Utahan for this, but I don’t care. I fall into a deep dark depression every time it snows or drops below 50 degrees. I also refuse to scrape windows in my car. I will go out 20 minutes early if I have to and just crank up the heater and turn on the windshield wipers until it warms up enough to just wipe it away. I have self-diagnosed S.A.D. (Seasonal Affectedness Disorder). My doctor told me last week finally that I should consider light therapy. I just function better when I have on shorts and sandals and a kick-ass tan! My grandma, in her later, senile years, thought I was a Mexican every time I visited her because I get so tan in the summer. I’m not one of those people that wishes it was cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter. I want summer all year long. I love the heat and I love the sun and I love the summer.
25: Because I apparently have adult onset ADD, and I run off on tangents, and this has taken me about 2 weeks to accomplish I’m calling it quits. I’m making an executive decision to make this statement the 25th thing you didn’t know about me.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Jr. High Sucks
On Friday, Nicole that I work with asked me if I would go to a junior high with her to staff a table. Of course I jumped at the opportunity to get out of my office into the fresh air of the free world. Now, it's been several years since I was in junior high and apparently A LOT has changed since 1994.
When we first walked into the school they had proudly displayed in the entrance a board labeled "I commit to...". Students were encouraged to write things that they would commit to do to make the world a better place... Or something like that I assume. Now most kids had written things like "say hi to everyone in the hall" or "sit by someone new everyday at lunch" or "tutor a dumb kid", you know things that normal 12-14-year-olds would put. Well, right in the middle of the board in big blue marker someone had written... junior high mind you... "Use alcohol less". I see a few things wrong with this statement. First of all the fact that in junior high someone is using and has admitted to using alcohol and what seems to be a pretty regular basis. Second, I love that this student has only committed to using alcohol "less". Let's not try and give it up. Should someone call DCFS?
As soon as we got to our table in the gym I realized what the worst part of my early teen years was. Junior high gym class. As if your body and self worth can't be any more awkward and underdeveloped you are now forced to put that in a pair of light grey sweat shorts and play dodge ball with people who hate you more than you already hate yourself. You're then forced to shower with these same people. And of course you don't quite understand the concept of hygiene or deodorant so you now stink for the rest of the day thus alienating yourself from anyone else who may have taken pity on your weird little ass in the first place.
When the first group of students came into the gym to get information from us a girl who couldn't have been any older than 12 ran up to our table and began to hiss. She started yelling at us saying that our school was evil and full of sinners. I should mention here that this said junior high WAS in Utah County, thus explaining the intense hatred towards the University of Utah. From that point on she took it upon herself to tell every other student not to talk to us because we were the devil's school. Tolerance is a beautiful thing.
Now these things are fine. I deal with weirdo’s all the time. I deal with awkward situations all the time. I can handle this. I'm a professional. I was not however prepared for the worst part of it all. As I mentioned before, it has become very apparent to me that kids in junior high have no idea that their little bodies are more adult than they might imagine and therefore have very adult smells associated with them. Sadly however is that this un-realization leads to childlike hygiene practices. I have never smelled such an awful smelling group of people in my life. By the end of the day we had deducted that they smelled like a combination of sweat, BO, pickles, cheese, dirty feet and sour laundry. I was literally dry heaving. I had to excuse myself several times from the table because I was beginning to make a scene. Luckily I had brought along a magazine with some cologne samples in them that I cold rub under my nose as a shield. That only lasted so long. This went on for 4 hours. It was the worst day of my life.
On our way out, Nicole had to use the restroom. As she was washing her hands a girl walked in crying, saying to herself "this is awful, this is the worst day ever, I hate this." She was carrying a plastic grocery sack. She walked to the sink and proceeded to pull out a box of tampons and a pregnancy test. Um... again, this is a JUNIOR HIGH, 12 to 14 years old. This is not ok. Now in here defense this could have been her first monthly visitor and she could have just been very confused, or she was in fact worried that she might be pregnant. Either way, that is one shitty day for that girl.
When we first walked into the school they had proudly displayed in the entrance a board labeled "I commit to...". Students were encouraged to write things that they would commit to do to make the world a better place... Or something like that I assume. Now most kids had written things like "say hi to everyone in the hall" or "sit by someone new everyday at lunch" or "tutor a dumb kid", you know things that normal 12-14-year-olds would put. Well, right in the middle of the board in big blue marker someone had written... junior high mind you... "Use alcohol less". I see a few things wrong with this statement. First of all the fact that in junior high someone is using and has admitted to using alcohol and what seems to be a pretty regular basis. Second, I love that this student has only committed to using alcohol "less". Let's not try and give it up. Should someone call DCFS?
As soon as we got to our table in the gym I realized what the worst part of my early teen years was. Junior high gym class. As if your body and self worth can't be any more awkward and underdeveloped you are now forced to put that in a pair of light grey sweat shorts and play dodge ball with people who hate you more than you already hate yourself. You're then forced to shower with these same people. And of course you don't quite understand the concept of hygiene or deodorant so you now stink for the rest of the day thus alienating yourself from anyone else who may have taken pity on your weird little ass in the first place.
When the first group of students came into the gym to get information from us a girl who couldn't have been any older than 12 ran up to our table and began to hiss. She started yelling at us saying that our school was evil and full of sinners. I should mention here that this said junior high WAS in Utah County, thus explaining the intense hatred towards the University of Utah. From that point on she took it upon herself to tell every other student not to talk to us because we were the devil's school. Tolerance is a beautiful thing.
Now these things are fine. I deal with weirdo’s all the time. I deal with awkward situations all the time. I can handle this. I'm a professional. I was not however prepared for the worst part of it all. As I mentioned before, it has become very apparent to me that kids in junior high have no idea that their little bodies are more adult than they might imagine and therefore have very adult smells associated with them. Sadly however is that this un-realization leads to childlike hygiene practices. I have never smelled such an awful smelling group of people in my life. By the end of the day we had deducted that they smelled like a combination of sweat, BO, pickles, cheese, dirty feet and sour laundry. I was literally dry heaving. I had to excuse myself several times from the table because I was beginning to make a scene. Luckily I had brought along a magazine with some cologne samples in them that I cold rub under my nose as a shield. That only lasted so long. This went on for 4 hours. It was the worst day of my life.
On our way out, Nicole had to use the restroom. As she was washing her hands a girl walked in crying, saying to herself "this is awful, this is the worst day ever, I hate this." She was carrying a plastic grocery sack. She walked to the sink and proceeded to pull out a box of tampons and a pregnancy test. Um... again, this is a JUNIOR HIGH, 12 to 14 years old. This is not ok. Now in here defense this could have been her first monthly visitor and she could have just been very confused, or she was in fact worried that she might be pregnant. Either way, that is one shitty day for that girl.
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