My Little Monster Sister: Brooke May

"I’m just an immature little kid. 
I’m a 5 year old trapped in a 14-year-old girls body. 
I still drink chocolate milk with a straw and get yelled at for making bubbles. 
I sing when I walk down the street. 
I’m always the first one to run out to the ice cream man in the summer time. 
I still pee with the door open and dance to the sound of the shower. 
My favorite holiday is Christmas & I stay up extra late to see if I can catch a glimpse of Santa.
I sleep with my blankie at night when i can find it.
When it rains I run outside in the mud.
Electricity plugs still fascinate me.
I still run around the house with underwear on my head.
Socks and flip-flops are still a major "fashion yes"!
Skimpy shorts and tank tops don’t interest me, I’d rather be wearing my sponge-bob square pants t-shirt.
Growing up is for nerds. ♥"


-I want to remember this forever-

Dress Code...

I start my new job at Starbucks Coffee tomorrow! I have never worked as a barista and I am kind of nervous about learning the equipment and dealing with high stress situations- which I haven't really encountered anything like a drive-through in a long time in my job history. In fact when I worked at Taco Bell for a month I SUCKED.  Props to you fast food workers, you are awesome. Memorizing weird abbreviations for foods and making them in under two minutes. Bravo! Listening to some snatch cuss you out over a two dollar quesadilla mishap without losing your cool? Congrats! But I did not cut the mustard.

But I'm really not that nervous about anything as much as the dress code!

1.) I hate collared shirts. I think they look too masculine on me and coupled with my beak of a nose I look like a "butch lesbian"...at least what I imagine that stereotype to look like. No offence to "manly" lesbians. Go Love! But not my style AT ALL. I can't pull one off- I asked and they do permit turtle necks...too bad not a single store I've been to thus far sells a turtle neck for under fifty bucks that isn't awful/my size. 

2.) Khaki pants...when I think of khaki pants I think of a 40 yr old male going on vacation to Hawaii, or at least dressing like he is. Usually accompanied by a flower/surfing/post cards printed COLLARED shirt.That or a golfing man. Both examples of men. Ugh. I have seen a few gals pulling off khaki pants but NOT ME. I feel like I look bloated and they are too close/ too far from skin color- it's an odd color. EW!

3.) Black pants. I'm partially ok with that. I really don't understand why hardly any workplaces allow blue jeans anymore. The baby boomers are in retirement-NO ONE CARES. Plus, EVERYONE looks better in blue jeans. They don't even specify a type-it can be skinny or whatever so I know it's not about offending anyone. They just don't want blue jeans because of a ridiculous notion set decades ago. Maybe I should wear high heels while I vacuum too!

4.)Brown OR Black close-toed shoes. Excuse me when did brown get thrown in? So now I am left with man shirt, black pants and black shoes. :C Funeral much?

5.) NO Tattoos. Hmm. So now I have to put a band-aid on my hand. IT'S A PEACE SIGN FOR GOD'S SAKE!!! Who does that offend and do we really want to give that Nazi coffee anyhow? NO. 

6.) Hair pulled into a pony tail. Ok...my hair is in that awkward stage right now where it's too long to leave down-too short to pull up high enough to look good. UGLY. So now little hairs will be slipping out of my pony tail all day making me look like a dork.

7.)Green apron. LOVE IT! Something to hide behind. 

WISH ME LUCK I NEED IT!

Ew! Ew! EW! GeT iT oFf!!!

If you've had the pleasure of reading my blogs for awhile-which let's be honest, this blog isn't popular enough to have many followers. For example, my mother (also known as "your biggest fan" and "delusional woman with four year olds the size of twenty year olds"), doesn't read my blog. BUT if you have you know Molly, my elderly cat, has accidents around my apartment from time to time.
Every once in awhile, like a minute ago, I will be on the go doing some house hold task like picking up dirty dishes from the living room or other various areas that Kyle and I end up studying and bringing them to the sink where they can be further neglected for another week- When suddenly I will step on something unusually squishy.
At this point my body freezes and my mind screams, "Ew, Ew, EW! GeT iT oFf!!!" Automatically assuming of course that I have a giant pile of poo on my foot. Thankfully this usually turns out to be a bundled up sock that escaped the laundry bin; other times it turns out to be the edge of a slipper or a plushy toy mouse.
But sometimes...like now, it's a genuine turd.

Breath In-Breath Out

Back from "vacationing" in Washington and Oregon. I told Kyle how morbid it is to be that we have only spent twenty eight days total the past two years HOME. Can you believe how many students leave out of state for college every year? Brave is all they are! How many human beings spend the majority of their year away from family, friends, and their favorite things, all left behind for education?
This had all better be worth it someday! (OK I know it will be)
The oddest feeling overwhelms me whenever I go home, it's like I've been holding my breath all year and suddenly..no matter what plans I've made for the holiday turn sour-everything is going to be alright for once.
No one is going to say my clothes are weird.-they've seen better and worse!
No one is going to make a face at me when I remind them I am a vegetarian.-they take me grocery shopping to make sure I feel at home and am well fed!
No one is going to miss my party-because everyone in the room LOVES me.
Yes once a year everyone in the room loves me. They would give me a kidney, they would let me cry on their shoulder, they would pick me up from the mall if my car died.
I am so grateful for my family and friends! I miss them so much already-I miss fitting in already.
School starts tomorrow and maybe I will meet another Erin Paulson or another Nickala Squire.
But if I don't I will know deep down that I do fit in somewhere, and that I am loved, and that in the grand scheme of things I am ok.

The Intruding Angel

Rewarding and yet disgusting at the same time: my job description.

I leave feeling dirty and self-repulsed some days, 

Proud and honored the next.

Many people tell me they couldn't do what I do regularly..

If they found themselves spraying off a urine soaked wheelchair pad or listening to Edna inquire about the date, for the third time in an hour...to put it delicately... they would be either puking or pulling their hair out.

But I do this daily. 

I am the one left to wipe your mother's ass- because you are grossed out by her incontinence.

I am also the one who explains to her over and over why she can't call you when she is scared and lonely.

When tucking her into bed at night, saying a soft prayer for her slumber, she recognizes not my face, but yours. She smiles holding my hand and tells me how much she has missed me and how very proud she is of me.

Missed you-proud of you. Well I'm not. 

Might it surprise you to know that this is the part of my job I take pride in? The parts I honor and am honored  for. 

On the other hand they don't want me- they want you, mom, sister, husband, child...

Their Alzheimer's, car crashes, epilepsy, cancer, paralysis, and handicaps took away the things they could handle. And the one thing they needed was you. Where are you?

Don't make excuses like, "They don't even recognize me anymore." They do, it's in their eyes.

"She is too hard to look at." So are you.

"He was a horrible father...why should I give him the time of day?" We are all human, he did the best he could with what he was given!

Other days I feel repulsed and awful-a true intruder, a violator.

After a straight week of refusing his shower he is dripping with sweat, dried urine, and old food fragments.

He is going to take a shower tonight...he is 'ok' until it's time to wash his intimate areas.

You offer him the wash rag and he says he can't...he needs you to do it.

Like you have done one hundred times before, with him and tons of others over the years.

He still doesn't want you to do it, but it has to be done. He can't afford another yeast infection...another rash.

You wash him and all the time he is looking at you like you raped him. Like you want to hurt him...

A few tears streak down his face and you are as gentle as possible, but it doesn't help you know how violated he must feel.

I don't blame them, I would react the same if not worse. 

I walk to my car and bawl on my lunch break. Disgusting.
He has seen me everyday for two years and I am still a stranger every hour.

Dear God, please let them forgive me- forgive the world.

Word-....Vomit?-Puke?-Ralph?-Upchuck?-Throw-Up?-Regurgitation?-Abomination?...

I think
I have a duplicate somewhere, sharing things I never would share and caring for people who never did care.

Or maybe they cared once, but forgot in over time, like a wound drenched with lime..like a charred unsolved crime. And I pray everyday that my clone, just a drone of a clone, goes away.
                                   That she looses herself, like a book on a shelf- in a house without help.
But I know very well she won't settle, won't swell, she won't leave I believe, she is here to receive- love that's owed by the toad of a man that she loathes. So unknown by the ones long ago.
For once he too was a child- just a boy, no direction, no ploy.
No means to be coy, no dreams to deploy, no hurt to instill, and no woman to thrill. And once he used to pray-to pray not to be gay, for the bible that lay on his table at bay- just screamed at the gay to end sin and delay their unsavory gay!
...So the boy-now a man, came up with his plan to marry my drone of a clone. Once an original clone, a human girl clone...a girl named "Me".
And now I am here trying to decipher this awfulness-this nasty awfulness, sitting in my white dress wishing Me would hear my call of distress, and agree with no rest, that for sure he had blessed us with treacherous zest- of woman married at best, to a gay-without say, without knowledge or pay.
I'm a conundrum today wouldn't you say?
Touche.

Lazy Eye

Took my second nutrition exam today...after the fact I realized I got answers wrong because I neglected to recheck or reread a question/answer and got questions I knew the right answer to...wrong. It's only October and my motivation is dwindling to nothing for biology...I am studying again tonight for it but the more I study it the more confused and lazy I become. blahhhhh