We Touchdown There - draft day

First of all, why the EFF does anyone do this? 

It is hectic, gives you anxiety, and makes you angry and excited all at the fuckin same time. It was an intense 45 minutes for me... Maybe because I am a woman who prefers just rooting for a team and drinking,  or most likely it was because I clearly have NO CLUE about football. All I did know was that auto drafting was so damn tempting, but I was determined to try. I felt like I should have probably drank before, to ease the anxiety... But I mean, our original draft time was 10:30 so I couldn't be that guy.

I kid you not, I was nervous waking up this morning. I woke up two housr before our draft and got all of my notes prepared and organized... and then paced around like a crazy person.  Thanks to league rules, we were not allowed to use significant others for help. So what did I do? What this bitch does best.

Googled it.

I Googled all of my positions, and what order I should draft them in, and had about 12 options for each position, just in case. Did it work for me? Not at all. I think by the 10th round, I was Googling names in hopes that they might look like they were high up on a ranking list for fantasy football. 

What does that even mean?!? 

Thank the lord I was 2nd in the draft order, because, I heard that is good. So I mean I obviously must have done okay my first couple of picks?  Right? Please say yes, lol. I don't know. 

 I should definitely mention that this girl did not pay any attention to who was injured, who was suspended, and who was on bye weeks and when. Clearly the commissioner should have scheduled a Fantasy Football tutoring sesh.  It's okay. This year I am a beginner, next year I might have a clue. I said might.

Thanks commissioner.

Just kidding, i love you... now talk to me about trading...

#yeaiblameyoukinda

#younevermentioneditgotcray

#idontknowwhatimdoing

#pleaseletusdoafundraftorderpicknextyear

#leaguegoals

#wetouchdownthere

Vegas is a cruel evil bitch... And I love her.

I decided to wait on discussing Vegas because that word literally tickled my gag reflex for the last month.

Perhaps it is my age, or perhaps it is the fact that having a baby meant not going that hard for over a year, but seriously, Vegas tried to kill me. Or at least it felt like it. I always know that when I go, there is a chance the drunk can take me down, because hello, it's Vegas. She has no remorse, and only invites you for epic nights.  She tried to get the drank to take me out, slowly and softly, not rough and hard. She literally made it so I went to bed every afternoon after the pool party and every night after the club with a nauseating stomach ache, and an intense headache.

BUT, I didn't throw up. So, in a sense, I survived.

And, although my friends and I had vowed that 3 days was too many because we almost didn't survive 2 years ago, I thought it was perfect this time around. Arrive and relax the first night, followed by 2 days of pool parties, and 2 nights of clubs, and ending with an early flight home on the last day.  I think that it was perfectly spaced out and involved just enough dancing and more than enough drinking.  I also want to mention, that NOT eating probably contributed to my horrific hangovers. It did not help my body to balance out the drunk by avoiding food.... But I needed to make sure that I looked decent in my outfits. So food was not an option.
Priorities bitches. Priorities.

 The hangovers were also probably due to the Jameson I was force fed for breakfast EVERY morning. Followed by half of a bagel..... and then more liquor of course.  By the time we made it back to the room after the pool, we had 3 hours to sleep and shower, before the night festivities would begin. 
It was a pretty intense schedule if I say so myself.

 Through the hot messes, the drunkness, the overly sized souvenir cups, the tight dresses, the ratchet club, Calvin Harris, the shoes that ripped holes in our feet, the room bagels,  the daybeds, the tables and bottle service, and even the dancing on the tables and booths, we survived another year in Vegas.
We stayed classy.
We looked amazing.
AND most importantly, we made it through another year.
Vegas, I love you bitch.

 #wesawcalvinharris
#SEVENTEENFORTYEIGHT
#jamesonandbagels
#boozeandbitches

my twenty somethings ...

I have thirteen more days until my twenty somethings are a year closer to my dirty thirty.

I never understood what the big deal was with age until three days ago when i rewatched the Friends episode, "The One Where They All Turn Thirty." It finally hit me. I DO NOT WANT TO TURN THIRTY.
How do I avoid it? Can I skip it?  If I don't look thirty does that make it so I am not?

Really Rose? This is real life bitch.

Ugh.  It is just that there is something calming about still knowing I am in my twenties.... like I still have time....

Time for what you ask?!? I have no fucking clue. 

I mean clearly, I have had a baby, I have been in a committed relationship for nine years, I finished school and am about to finish grad school, and I am house hunting. I don't feel like I am behind in where I wanted to be in life... 

Perhaps it is just the thought that I still have time to be young? Lol. Because you know, 30 = old? 
I don't know. I know for sure I am not the only one either. Everyone I know gets their feelings hurt when I remind them that we are damn near 30. I think it is just a common fear when you are in your twenty somethings.  
 It's because at 21, turning 30 is so fucking far away.
No one ever tells you that it is all down hill after your 21st birthday.... I mean someone once told me, but you just figure it's an old person's bitter response to that fact that you are turning 21 and they are old as shit, LOL.
No one ever tells you that you spend so much time hanging with friends, taking trips, running a muck and fucking around between 22 to 25 that you turn 26 in the blink of an eye. And then by then, 30 is only 4 years away -__- .

I am not angry or bitter. I guess I am just scared. 30 is a whole other field of age that I have to get used to.  It's a decade that I am walking into blind after my 20s was so fucking beautiful, fun, relaxed, and full of growth.
What can my 30s possibly teach me?

Better yet, fuck what my 30s can teach me, I just want to be 24 again, lol!

Just kidding. I am sure it will have it's perks. I am just being a crybaby.

Plus, I have 2 more years.... in THIRTEEN more days.
wah.


"We had a deal, let the others grow old, not me!"

 

#ageaintnothinbutanumber 
#dontsayitoutloudthough

April?

March was such a blur... I didn't realize I ran out of days until I realized I was in  viva las Vegas for my mother in law's birthday the second week of April. Then I blinked and now it's June?!? I know that time flies by, but the last few months have gone by so fast that I'm not even sure it all existed.

Having to be back at work like an adult, doing 8 hour days, having this monster of a baby, trying to cook every night for healthy living and bake with my other daughter, and having my Capstone (35 page research paper) this quarter had made my concept of time COMPLETELY warped... I think everything was about a week ago, including giving birth.  Saying I was swamped these last 10 weeks is an understatement.  I could barely find time to do anything besides work and pull a boob out for baby Q. So by April I moved to bottles. Made me feel like less of a mom for a second, but I'll blame that on the hormones. 
Plus baby Q bit me, so and smiled. It was time.

I had a paper, a book club at work, and was supposed to be learning Spanish.  Not only that but mid May I had to make an emergency trip to Seattle because my grandmother got sick. I was out of work for two weeks, stuck in the hospital waiting room working on my Capstone.  It was a struggle. I made my paper happen because I paid for that class. I had to. I had no choice. Finish and pass, or waste $4k in total. And pass for this class was an exact percent. 84% to be specific.

What. The. Fuck. 
Last I heard, as long as it wasn't an F it was passing?!?

My mom made mom things look so damn easy when I was a little girl. She had 2 kids, and a full time job, and maybe not school, but she had a home she cleaned for everyone and cooked every single meal for three other people. That is no where near the small amount of responsibilities I take on in my family. I luckily have a lot of help. I will say that I think living in Seattle helped her though. Gave her the upper hand in comparison to me. This is because I am more than positive that time goes slower up there. They have an unfair advantage. I kid you not, being up there for a day can make you think you have been there for four. The sun doesn't set until like 9:30 pm in the summer time. That is so much daylight time!

All I know is that I am one class away from my Master's with the hardest class out of the way and passed. That has to count for something. I am now trying to focus on the important things. My kids, my sexy, and my me time.

My kids because they are life.

My sexy because I am determined to kill the game in Vegas.

And me time because I need it.

I don't wan't summer to disappear on me like Spring did. 

Are you ..... serious?!?

It is not uncommon to get weird vibes and awkward run ins after a break up. Running into your ex's crowd almost always leads to you walking away saying "how fucking annoying and awkward."

Everyone has experienced those unwelcome "hi"s, "hello"s, "how are you"s. But really, let's not be childish and make it worse than that initial salutation and perhaps a good bye if it is deserved.
Breakups happen.  They are common. They are more than difficult. They make all sorts of situations awkward. But most importantly, they are usually heartbreaking AND they change up your entire routine. ALSO remember, heartbreaking can include anger and hate, so don’t assume by heartbreaking I am referring to someone sad and moping around. 

I just generally mean that they can change a person’s life schedule from a 9am-5pm to a 10pm - 7am from one day to the next. They change who you hang out with, where you hang out, and sometimes even how much you go out.  

Regardless of how close you are to the two involved in a break up, as a grown ass person with any sort of sympathy to another person’s personal problems, you should be decent enough to let the break up run-ins be THE LEAST bit awkward as you can.  

Come on, be fucking adults. 

The domino affect of a break ups WILL include a run-in sometime or another, so please do not act surprised that your friend’s ex girlfriend/boyfriend showed up to a mutual friend’s birthday party. 
Do not act like you didn't know they might be there. 
Do not act like you don’t know a break up has happened. 
Do not avoid that break up, and yet do not confront it because it sure as hell isn’t your place. 
But most importantly, do not ask stupid questions that MAKE things more awkward than necessary. 
Why don't "adults" know this type of common sense?

I get it, it was probably awkward seeing them.... but asking questions like
"Are you still.... hiking?" or "Are you still.... living in LA?"
is an embarrassing conversation. Not for her. For you. You guys are lucky they were decent enough to bite their tongue and not say what any other rational human being would have said.

"Hiking? I mean I guess when someone invites me to go? I didn't know telling you I went once labled me as a 'hiker'."  I am pretty sure you were meaning to ask if they were still together. No, they are not together, yet I am positive you already knew that, but are insisting on knowing since it's mutual territory. It's called real life. This happens often in real people world.

"Living in Los Angeles? I don't remember ever having conversations about my living situation with you, nor do I ever remember mentioning a move. A break up does not imply I considered a move..."  LOL. Thanks for being concerned. I think you actually wanted to ask if they still spoke.  No, probably not considering there is not much reason to after a break up. Hello Captain Obvious.

SERIOUSLY? You didn't know that was going to be a failed and awkward question? You actually thought that was a regular people question?!? You couldn't ask a normal question? "Hey, how about them Lakers?" "This LA weather is amazing isn't it?" "What are you drinking tonight?" "Do you like this song?"

If you couldn't be that nonchalant about the awkward run in, then DON'T SAY ANYTHING ELSE. It was a bar. Not a fucking dinner party. You were not required to make small talk if you obviously couldn't handle being an adult about it. 

 #ByeFelicia
#beanadult
#growuporshutup

Me time, you time, work time, who time...

First day back to work, and surprisingly, I was more anxious than I was just thinking about it.  You know, usually you are anxious and then once you get there, everything falls in to place and you are no longer worried?

No. Not for me. Not at all. 

To be fair though, I was all on that triple grande this morning. I haven't had that much expresso in one sitting since before I was pregnant. That had to add to the anxiety. That and it probably does not help that leaving my 5 month old at home is just the first thing on my list of eight hundred and one things Rosie should be thinking about. 

As my foot tapped and my eyes flashed back and forth to my phone screen, the girl training me is basically telling me the position requires me to run the entire school. I will be in charge of all children, enrolling them in classes, making their schedules, ordering their books, their accounting, and communication with their parents. I will be in charge of all teachers, cataloging all classes they can teach, setting their schedules, monitoring their absent students, monitoring their paper work, and ordering their materials.  I will also be the assistant for the director so I will maintain her schedule, set her appointments,  and basically handle all her administration work. NO BIG DEAL.

Foot taps faster. Eyes flash from phone screen to computer screen. Shuffle through Excel documents. Shuffle through paperwork. Here comes that mid day headache.

And all through the training I'm paying attention, but I catch myself drifiting to my real life personal agenda.....

Did he mix the breastmilk with formula? 

Does the baby miss me or am I just trippin?

Are all of my 10 year old's birthday party invites out?

... goodie bags, lumpia, outfits, guests, invites, hula skirts, cake....

Should I cut my hair? Baby Q just pulls it and it's all falling out anyway...

Crap, did I check back in with the Hula Dancers?

What the shit am I going to wear?

I forgot that at work, all the other real life shit has to be put on hold for at least 8 hours. That's a long time to put off all of the things you have to deal with after a long day of work. 

I don't know how my mom did it. Honestly. She owned her own business so I guess she got to mix business with personal life. That was conveinient.

  All I wanted to do was hug my baby, take a hot shower and eat a bowl of cereal when I got home. Not because I'm stressed or terrified of my position. Just because I wanted some fuckin cereal and some baby hugs. Cocoa Puffs and baby Q.  I guess with the last 5 months of prioritizing between what the baby's schedule will be to how much tummy time she gets, I got to neglect the me time, and work time. And now I need to add a very large amount of baby Q time. 

 Like I said, NO BIG DEAL.

Time to get back in the groove.

Don't worry new job, I'll own your ass. Let me just get my rythem back. And add that triple grande every morning just in case. Thanks.

.....the MAIN dish vs the SIDES......

"If your girl only could only see, how you be callin me, getting fresh with me..."

Lord knows I love my group chat with the girls. We talk about it all.  I mean ALL things are up for discussion... random, current, past, mean, funny, dirty, sexy, secrets, eyebrows, shoes, gym time, significant others, kids (because now they are relevant) and so on.  So easily, the topic of main mains and the other woman came up. Who wins in this main chick, side chick situation? 

First things first... is it extremely hilarious to anyone else that this is not an uncommon battle?!? There are all these cray women out there who are actually battling their positions of being the MAIN or being the SIDE chick.  Obviously (dear lord I am hoping) that none of them comprehend that neither position is a respectable one?!? If you have any self respect as a woman, you should only be ACCEPTING positions as the ONLY WOMAN in his life. That's it. No ands, ifs, buts, maybes, or any other stupid excuse of downgrading yourself to a double team for some dude milking all these cows for free. Wake up heffers.

I mean I know there are certain circumstances that might make you a side chick at first, maybe make it so you are on the path to becoming the only?  Maybe you get trapped in sexual tensions and that defeats any other rational thought in your mind so you become the side for a second .... so perhaps you guys are so in love that you are the side chick, but he is leaving a main for you to become an only woman ..... or maybe you are the fuckin president and you have to stay with your main so that you can stay in office (yea Olivia Pope, I love you but you are a side chick)....or perhaps he is YOUR side dude so who fuckin cares what position you hold or if you "win"? Okay, that shit I can understand at one point or another.  It's the fighting to be winner in this situation that leaves me without words.  

Who would have the audacity to fight to be either of these positions?

How do you get to be a winner if you had to compete for someones love, and not by choice?

    Society and social norms have seriously effed up the image of a healthy relationship.  We are so liberal in our beliefs of what is normal and okay, that we fail to realize that no matter which chick you were going for, neither of them are a winner. You can't compete when it comes to love. It's either there or it's not. And let's not forget, sex is not love.

Winning is defined as accomplishing something. You aren't accomplishing anything by keeping a guy who could not pick you and happily stick with you and only you. Being declared as a winner in the competition of main chick vs. side chick only leaves room for other competitors.  There is no winner. There are just two really dumb girls and a dude that gets to bone them both.

Embarrassing.