Friday, March 30, 2012

The Downside of Winning $640 Million Dollars in the Lottery

With a possible $640 million dollar (and counting) lottery win on the line, the nation is all abuzz with thoughts of what would I do with all that money?

But as we all know (because it's the mantra of poor kids heard around the world - or at least in the house I grew up in) money can't buy happiness. Sure, some parents can buy their kid a new pair of boots but then they wouldn't grow up with those fond memories of sticking their feet into generic bread wrapper bags in an attempt to keep the water out. How on earth could you even possibly begin to think you could be happy with a brand new pair of sparkling white boots with glints of pink and lined with real fur? You would have missed out on all that fun when Chris Hoover spied your plastic bag slipping out of your boot after recess and called you Bread Bag for the entire rest of the school year!

With massive amounts of money comes great struggle. For instance, you might imagine yourself diving into and swimming around your piles of gold à la Disney Duck Tales style, but let's be honest - gold is a solid. You dive into that and you're bound to get a concussion.

Because of Disney I dreamed of being a duck. True story.

Then there's that pesky task of sitting down to make a list of all the people you're never going to give a freaking dime to. Like the micromanaging fun-sucking team leader with buggity eyeballs that you were forced to be nice to for an entire year and probably thinks you two are friends because she happens to be incapable of maintaining an actual friendship for longer than twenty-seven minutes so is completely oblivious to the fact that every person who spends more than twenty-eight minutes with her wants to stab themselves with a mellon baller. She'll have no problem asking - no, expecting some sort of incredibly large and generous monetary gift, and you'll need to be ready. Oh, gosh, I really wish I could pay off your mortgage, you effing hag, but see --? You're on the list. Sorry... but, well, couldn't you tell I didn't actually like you? I thought the bleeding from my ears when we were forced into the same room together would have provided at least a hint.  

And that leads me to I Don't Really Care If You're Related to Big V Or Not - Particularly If You've Ever Come Up To Us And Taken Our Coats When We Walked In And Proceeded To Say In Front Of Everyone, "You Should Really Date (So and So) - I Really Wish You Would At Least Consider It" - And Not Only Could I Hear You Because I Was Standing Right There But Also I Was Pregnant With His Child, then no, you don't get any of my money. You're already on the list.

Which reminds me, if you happen to be one of my family members that thinks you automatically gets hoardes of my winnings just because we swim in the same pool of DNA, think again. If I think you're lazy you won't get a penny. Dude, get up off your rump and get a job. That's what I've been doing since I was 14. And don't tell me there are no jobs, because there are. They're suckity-suck jobs that suck the soul out of you and have sucky pay - but they're jobs. That's what grown-ups do. They get jobs to support themselves and their families. They don't sponge of the government or redunkulously rich relatives. Don't bother trying to convince me otherwise - I once worked as a telemarketer. It doesn't get any suckier than that.

(Free advice: if you think your job sucks, try working the entire day pretending that you're British. Everything is so much grander with an accent, don't you agree? Perhaps you ought to pull your chin up and channel your inner Mary Crawley and make the best of it.) (You read those last two sentences with an accent, didn't you? I knew you would.)

Besides, if you didn't have a relationship with me prior to me winning my millions, what makes you think we'd suddenly have one now?  That means Kim, Jocelyn and Ginger: your mortgages are PAID. And all your children are going to college. And we'll be going on vacation. A lot.

So, actually, now that I think about it, really the only downside to me winning $640 million in the lottery would be to those who won't benefit from my newfound wealth. The way I see it, as long as I steer clear from diving head first into bars of precious metal, I'm golden.

six hundred thirty-nine million, nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine....

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

I'd like 14 hours of sleep and 4 cups of coffee, please.

I'm tired. Like, really tired. And I have nothing accomplished and no time to accomplish anything and I have four rows left to knit to finish this really cute dishcloth and my books are overdue from the library and - hello?! This is ME. The girl who can read two books in a weekend and I'm not even halfway done? And the dishes are piled up and the laundry is so bad we can't even get down the basement steps (because no one can take the clothes all the way down the stairs to the washing machine, golly no - just chuck them down the stairwell and sooner or later it magically clears) and I keep thinking of these great blog post topics except by the time I sit down in front of a computer my mind is blank and all I can hear is Mom! You forgot about my ortho appointment! We need to be there in ten minutes! Of course you do, kid. Of course you do.

The ironic part is I was wanting to do this bible study at our church about simplifying your life. Not taking on so much so that you can live in the present.

Except then I agreed to do this show. And the rehearsals are Monday through Thursdays from 7:00-10:00pm. And I still have my full time job until 5:00pm. Which means in order to get to rehearsal on time I have to leave my house by 6:00pm, which means I have exactly one hour to gather kids, feed kids, maybe go to the bathroom and try to eat something before I leave. And I'm perfectly okay with eating while I'm going to the bathroom, my standards have dropped that low.

And Big V is is incredibly annoying because life is always sunshiney and cheery and lovely and don't you feel great doing something that you love and don't worry about the house - who cares what it looks like and also he's a rockstar because he's been working like a mad man monring, noon and night which means maybe we'll be able to pay his stupid truck loan off and that would be awesome. And that whole bit just reminds me how much of a simplified, living in the moment type of person he is and ----

holy buckets! He totally does not need to take that class. But I do.

I do.

Because for some reason I'm beating myself up because my house is atrocious. And in all honesty it's not that bad. Things are picked up and floors are vacuumed and as long as you didn't open the door to the basement you'd never know how behind I am on the laundry.

And, yes. I am able to do something that I love. Because people who love me support me. They make sure my kids are watched and fed and tucked into bed. They don't gripe about what the house looks like. They don't make me feel bad about not scrubbing the shower walls.

Except I'm still tired.

Very tired.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Okey Dokey, Dang Nabbit!

As a condition of my employment I'm required to attend meetings. Evening meetings. You know, meetings held during that time when you'd rather be at home picking your toenails while criticizing American Idol candidates and plotting how you're going to successfully convince your husband to run to the store to get a tube of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls just because you have a craving.

Anyway, some meetings offer a change of scenery - ooh! We're in the big conference room tonight! Some offer baked goodies. Oh, wait. Actually none of them do. In any case, all of them evoke the passing thought of I'd rather be doing anything other than sitting here doing this. But we have to look all professional and be aware that there are reporters in the room ready to pounce at any given second and the last thing you want to have happen is be featured on the front page sleeping.

Well, not anymore, pilgrims! I've just stumbled upon how to make even the most mind-numbing meeting so fun and exciting y'all will be clamoring to be a part of it! And, contrary to your initial thought, it does not involve nudity.


TOP-SECRET TERMINOLOGY
So this is what happens: at the start of every public meeting, the players (audience members and office staff) will receive two secret words or phrases - the words will not be disclosed to the voting officials of that meeting's quorum. Players will then earn points for proper use of the secret words or phrases throughout the meeting. The secret words or phrases must be used in a complete sentence when addressing official members and cannot be randomly yelled out or counted if being directed towards a non-voting person. A running score is kept for all players throughout the year. The player who uses the secret words or phrases most often, thus earning the most points, wins.

However, if a voting official believes they know the secret word or phrase for a particular meeting they must, stand up and yell their guess at the top of their lungs. Much like an excited kid playing Uno. If correct, all players totals earned for that meeting with the correctly guessed word or phrase are then wiped to zero and there is no more chance to earn points on that word or phrase.

Tonight's top secret words are:

Okey Dokey!

and

Dang nabbit!


It is important that the top secret words chosen are both interesting yet not too unusal. They must encourage unusual and creative use by the players while not appearing too obvious to the Voting Officials. (Remember, if correctly guessed, totals earned on the phrase for that meeting are reduced to zero.)

However, an unusual term also challenges the players. For instance, let's say the secret term was snollygoster (a person who can't be trusted, especially a politician, who is guided by personal advantage rather than by consistent, respectable principles). Obviously, if a person in the audience stands up under Visitors to be Heard and says I think you're a snollygoster a Voting Official is going to guess that word right away. However, if approached delicately, for example, hidden within a compliment - as in I just wanted to say Thank You for all your hard work. I know that many people complain about politicians; they're untrustworthy, they're only thinking about themselves, they're just a bunch of snollygosters - but I think you all do wonderful work. I, for one, am very excited about the increase in taxes, so, again, thank you! it just might work.