Quote of the week

I stumbled upon this unfinished title to an article that won't actually let me read the article, but the title itself is funny. In case you don't know who Royce Gracie is, he is one of the original heroes of Mixed Martial Arts and UFC. He is basically a master of submissions.


"Royce Gracie fight Obama or Mitt Romney may never set foot..."

What!?!?

More Than Sorry

I was distracting myself on facebook and stumbled upon a name that immediately made my stomach drop. It took me back to middle school and to one of my biggest regrets. I have never been more angry with myself for anything to this day.

It was 8th grade and I was friends with a kid I'll call Scott. Scott came to me one day, upset and angry. Apparently his dad beat him frequently and had hit him for what Scott said was going to be the last time. He told me that his dad has two grand hidden under his bed and that he was going to steal it and take a bus to Chicago.

Being way more rational and intuitive than most of my peers at the time, I immediately tried to brainstorm an alternative with him. I knew that $2,000 wasn't going to get him very far and that he couldn't get a real job, place to stay, or even rent a hotel room at the age of 13. That two grand wouldn't last him two weeks. The prospect of him running off to Chicago scared me almost as much as him staying with his father. I tried to come up with a place that he could go, like moving in with a relative. He vetoed all of my ideas saying that his dad would find him there and that things would just get worse for him. Then I asked him why he didn't just go to the cops or someone who could make the abuse stop. Once again he was convinced that his dad would just find this all the more reason to hit him. Scott was bound and determined to leave the next day for Chicago.

I spent the next three class periods trying to come up with someway to help him. I wanted him out of that house and I didn't want him to attempt to run away. After exhausting every possible idea I had and running out of time before the end of school for the day, I decided that I would go to our Dean. I told him that it was urgent and went into his office. I told him the story and left out Scott's name. I made him promise me that he would be able to help me get Scott out of the house and to a place where he would be safe. He promised and I gave him Scott's name.

When Scott was called to the office over the loudspeaker, I started to cry and was already shaking. I felt like I had betrayed him, but didn't know how else to help him.

The next day, I found out that Scott was staying with his grandmother and his father was being qustioned. Everything was looking like it was headed in the right direction.

A few days later, Scott's best friend and neighbor confronted me. Apparently after all of the questioning, they made Scott move back into his house with his parents. Not only that, but they were going to homeschool him. I immediately went back to the Dean's office. I was furious. I asked him what he was going to do to help Scott. All he said was that he had turned it over to child services and that child services had made their decision. He thought there was nothing else he could do.

The day that I tried to help Scott was the last day that I ever saw him. I never heard an update, or even that he was still in my hometown. Even now, knowing how running away to Chicago wouldn't have been easy, I wish I would have let him go.

I still don't know anything about how his life turned out or whether he continued to be abused. The only thing I now know about him is that he has a facebook pic of two beautiful little girls with pigtails next to his name.

I wish I could have the chance to say sorry, but how do you even apologize for something like that? Sorry is way too insignificant for the deep regret that I have always felt about how things turned out. I'm sure he has just as much regret about telling me his plans in the first place.

Quote of the Week

I thought I would add a new feature to my blog, I hope you find these quotes as humerous or powerful as I do.


"The boy is a U-Haul lesbian!! I didn't even know they came in the male variety."
-Cat

Family Gatherings

I know that everyone seems to have family members that are a little crazy or a little off kilter. Everyone has at least one black sheep. I come from the whole herd of black sheep. I swear to god that my family should really be offered a sitcom deal. My mom is one of six kids, three girls and three boys. They are sort of like the George Carlin meets the Brady Bunch. Even though my mother doesnt' interact with her family anymore, my dad fills the spot just perfectly. Every member has their own ridiculus quirks and the most normal of my relatives all married into the family (my father not included). I'm not really sure what this says about me, but at least I can blame it on genetics.

After listening to my uncles make fun of everyone present at our Easter get together and everyone not there to defend themselves, I commented to my aunt that I would really have to be serious about somebody before I brought them to meet the whole crew. To say they are slightly overwhelming would be an understatment.I really love being around them because they always make me laugh at their innappropriate comments and quick comebacks. I have had a few friends over for various events. I am however very selective in which of my friends I bring along. They need to have a couple of qualities to survive: thick skin, a good sense of humor, and not be easily offended.

A couple of years back, I brought my best friend, Cat, to Easter with the fam because she didn't want to fly home to her home in Texas for just the weekend. At one point she was sitting between me and one of my uncles. We started watching a Charlize Theron movie about working in a mine. My uncle looks at her and says (And I wish this wasn't a direct dialogue):

uncle: I heard Charlize Theron shows her jibs in one of her new movies
Cat: Jibs?
uncle: What you don't know what they are?
Cat: I'm pretty sure I can guess.
uncle: Well, it isn't her clam.

Thank God Cat found my family charming in their own, crude, fun-loving way.

This year was just as humerous. Although at least not as embarrassing for me. My grandma asked my uncle where Grandpa had disappeared to and my uncle's response was "He went upstairs to look at porn on the internet." I'm not really sure why my grandma actually believed him, but the look on her face was priceless. It can only be described as utter disgust. My uncle and I were the only ones who saw her reaction and we both laughed so hard our faces hurt. To get the full effect you have to understand that my grandma is a tiny 5'1," 96 pound, 78 year-old woman with the remnants of a Polish accent and a wardrobe like Audrey Hepburn. When she realized that he made it up to get a rise out of her, she walked over and slugged him in the arm which just made the rest of the family join in on conversation.

Foolishness

You want me to trust you
You want me to care
You want me to believe that no body's there?

You tell me you've changed
You've moved on from your past
1700 miles, you still think it will last?

I'm not jealous, or the kind to keep tabs
I'd like to say your flattery sinks in
Most of the time, I think you're bull-shitting again

You can call me a cynic,
It'd probably be true
I just don't know I ready to take that chance on you

You think were building from the ground up
I think were starting from a hole
Why are you so persistant? I don't even know.

It may not be fair to still hold it over your head
Your adolescent mistakes were years ago
Wishing you could change a few things now, Joe?

You've yet to hurt me
or be anything but kind
Yet I want to know exactly what is it you have in mind

You've always gotten what you wanted from girls in the past
Intrigued by the one not pursuaded by your charms?
All these months trying to convince me that I have you disarmed

I want to believe you, but I don't blindly trust
Honesty is hard to prove
Especially when back to Tuscon you'll move

For me to even contemplate the risk, there are a few things you ought to know
not in time, money, or gifts, but I'll expect a lot
I'll need to see every ounce of integrety you've got

You don't even realize that you are asking for everything
You say all you want is me to know I can rely on you
A whole series of events make that the hardest thing to do

Are you going to convince me? Am I convincing myself?
Is there a resolution? I'm not sure
I think I need to analyze this some more

It is too bad no one has invented the internet scratch and sniff

Maybe I am just abnormally sensitive to them or something, but certain smells take me back to different places, different times, or just remind me of different people. Molasses reminds me of the feed room in our barn, Barbosol reminds me of my grandpa, and Victoria's Secret Heavenly reminds me of my best friend.

My worst association is anything Sweet Pea from Bath and Body Works. My first middle-school 'boyfriend' bought me a set of that for x-mas. To this day, even a faint whiff will test my gag reflexes. I guess we are all able to make poor decisions about people we date when we are in 7th grade. I know I definitely gave myself some room for improvement.

Another bone of contention that I have with scents is bad cologne. Bad cologne or excess quantities are a serious turnoff. Faint=good I don't want to feel like I have the sprayer shoved up my nostril. If it gives me a headache or I can smell you before I see you, you are wearing too much.

My little brother, Brett, has recently become obsessed with cologne. I'm pretty sure it is in an attempt to attract the attention of Samantha, the minx of the fourth grade. He used to just wear one of his many bottles of Axe or Tag or whatever the hell all the kids are wearing these days, until my cousin let him borrow his Armani. My cousin, Matthew, tried explaining how women were attracted to good cologne. Now Brett's taste in cologne has become vastly more expensive. When Brett's birthday rolled around he wanted two things: a Honda CR85R dirt bike and Armani cologne. He didn't get the dirt bike, but he did get the cologne.

When I found out that my dad was actually going to buy him the cologne (sort of ridiculous for a 10 year old), I asked that it just not be Aqua di Gio. What does my dad buy? ...Aqua di Gio. Ryan, a guy I used to date wore Aqua di Gio. I'm not all that fond of it in the first place, but I really resent that they smell the same. Ryan and I still get along and hang out occasionally. It isn't that the cologne is reminiscent of sad or angry memories, it is simply screwing with my associations.

Not only does my brother smell like Ryan, I am also having a little trouble teaching him the art of being subtle. When he walks into a room, he'll say, "Nikki, can you smell me?" If I say no, he scurries off to apply another squirt. I tried to explain that it isn't a good thing if I can smell him from 15 feet away, but he is adamant that everyone be able to tell that he is wearing cologne. I think he might need a male influence to make this concept stick. My dad makes fun of him when he smells like he just sat in a bathtub full of Aqua di Gio, but I'm not sure that he thinks dad is really an expert in the area of attracting the ladies with cologne.

If anyone has any ideas on how to convey this point to him, please let me know. The sooner, the better. If he rides in an elevator with someone, we are going to get sued because he is going to make someone pass out!

Worry, Worry

So my roommate and best friend went to NYC this last weekend. She was visiting one of our friends who has an internship with the Daily Show. My other roommate scared the crap out of my by sending me a link to an article about the bombing in Time Square. I didn't read nearly far enough to realize that there were no injuries, I was immediately on the phone making sure she was alright. As it turns out, she was at her hotel which was right across the street from where the bomb went off. She didn't even wake up. I was so glad to hear her voice. It was definitely a good way to end those few minutes of dread.

New Foal

There was one upside of this weekend....We had a new addition at the farm. This foal was born about two minutes before I took the pictures. She is out of two world champions and the mare in the picture is Chime (not her biological mother--she was an embryo transfer baby.)