The Average Resolutions

WHOA, the new year got here fast. Amiright? Although I'm actually facing some pretty huge changes in 2014 (i.e. a semi cross country move), I'm not going to make any promises of new beginnings or any of that shit.

Instead, here is my little list resolutions, if you care to know:

I'll be 25 this next year and I feel like it's a good time to start taking care of myself.
Since I already run frequently, I need to focus on what I'm putting into this hot bod.

So....
 

1. No more soda

2. No more red meat

3. More veggies

 

THE end.

Happy New Year, followers :) Do some living this year.

 

Sincerely,

The Average Person

Ketchup

Cute title, right? But, for real, let's catch up.

First, I want to brag on my mad skills. 

This is my hurricane son's bedroom about 30 minutes ago.

This is my son's room NOW.

I even made a redhead materialize.

Who's the boss? I'M the boss. That's a work of art right there.

Back to business, I recently took a couple of kidless road trips and I remembered that they actually aren't torturous trips designed by the devil. I delighted in the fact that I could drive all 5 hours without stopping to pee once and that I could buy snacks and didn't have to share with anyone. 

The first trip I took, I went to see Justin Timberlake in concert. I went with one of my dearest friends and had an absolute blast. We stayed in a HOTEL. I felt like the Queen of the world; my bed had FOUR pillows on it. Heaven, obviously. Aside from the absolutely incredible performance by JT (if you haven't seen him live yet, bucket list that shit NOW), the most notable part of the trip was when my friend's gay intuition took us to dinner in one of the gay strips of Dallas. 

So, we arrived at the hotel room and immediately lounged on our beds and talked about what to eat for dinner. My friend looked at surrounding places to eat on his phone and mentioned an Italian place close by that looked tasty and cheap. Those are my two favorite adjectives when describing food, so of course I jumped on board. We got ready to go and when we arrived in the neighborhood, I immediately sensed something different. For one, the only people I saw on the street were men. Two, one or more of the shops we passed displayed more risqué clothing than I've seen in other neighborhoods. But, what definitely sealed it for me was the framed pictures of drag queens and a poster for The Bridegroom in the Italian restaurant. I looked at my friend and we both realized what had happened. It was awesome. There was even an amazing, two story gay bar across the street that, of course, we went to after eating pizza slices the size of our faces. In short, that trip was awesome.

He sings to my SOUL

My next trip was this past weekend to see an old friend graduate from college. This trip was so nice and so much fun. My friend lives in an insanely small town and I met some great new people. We drove around town, blaring Miley, giving no fucks, held hands at the mall, and danced to Katy Perry's Dark Horse at a local bar like nobody's business. It was a perfect, relaxing trip. 

On the way home, I stopped at Baby Head Cemetary because I'd been dying to ever since I passed it on my way to see Justin Timberlake.

It's exactly as creepy as it sounds. Apparently, a child in the 1850s was killed by Indians and its remains were left on the mountain near here - thus it was known as Baby Head Mountain. Later on, a community formed near the mountain and took the name Baby Head as well. I know, that got morbid fast, right?? I'm really into history and cemeteries always fascinate the fuck out of me. Anyway, the oldest grave in this cemetery was from the 1850s! So, obviously, I spent almost 45 minutes in this tiny graveyard. 

And now, we're caught up. I'm going to go drink a beer in celebration of my mad cleaning skills.

Sincerely,

The Average Person

Me + Christmas Music = No.

I had a great Thanksgiving; but, after the usual amount of family drama, exhausted and overstimulated toddlers, and fierce loathing of my family's city, I'm happy to be curled up in my bed, writing to you all.

Now that Thanksgiving is over, it's socially acceptable to play Christmas music. Although, my sweet mother doesn't quite understand the whole "socially acceptable" thing and forced me to listen to her favorite CDs on the 4 hour ride to see our family the day before Thanksgiving. If there's anything you should learn from reading this blog, it's that I hate Christmas music. Of course, I'm not a total Scrooge, but I literally enjoy about 5 Christmas songs and there are literally 800,000 of them, with more being written each year! Why don't I like Christmas music? I can't really tell you. Maybe it's because there are 500 versions of all 800,000 songs and every public place you enter in December seems to be playing the exact same loop of them. Or maybe it's because songs like Santa, Baby and I Saw Mama Kissing Santa Claus exist. I mean, really. One is about flirting with an old, fat guy to get nice shit and the other depicts a potentially ruined marriage. WTF, Christmas? Obviously, there are a number of reasons why I hate Christmas music.

One of the albums I was lovingly forced to be exposed to was Michael Buble's Christmas.

Even he looks uncomfortable with his rendition of Santa, Baby.

 

This album is at least 2 hours long. It's like Michael Buble decided that he was going to sing every Christmas song ever written, which, as I said earlier, is a lot. Congratulations, Michael Buble. Your Christmas masterpiece is longer than a book on tape. Wait, do they even call them that any more? Whatever.

All that being said, Fate thought it'd be super hilarious to bless me with a child who loves Christmas music. Of course.

Sincerely,

The Average Person

Average Christmas shopping

Yes, I know. It's not even Thanksgiving, yet. Why are you posting about Christmas shopping? Because Christmas shopping in December is panicked, stressful, and crowded. That's why.

Anyway, last weekend I finished my Christmas shopping. That's right; I'm that good. Even though I was shopping for Christmas gifts early, there were still tons of people in the stores. It was like everyone had my idea, but almost everyone had their kids with them. I thought this was strange, then I realized, they didn't have my idea - they were pre-Christmas shopping.

This is literally the stupidest idea any parent has ever had. These parents were leisurely walking through the toy department with their kids (while I, cool, determined, and, of course, prepared, knew exactly what I was looking for and had to struggle getting around their leisurely asses) asking them to point out things that they wanted. Now, try to imagine that you are one of these kids:

My parents are letting me explore the toy section. They never let me do this. They're telling me to pick stuff out?! I'm getting a new toy today!? AWESOME!

Oh, you poor, unfortunate soul (cue Little Mermaid music). They're only trying to get an idea of what to get you for Christmas; no treats for you today. This obviously (and rightly so) did not compute with the kids. One in particular threw himself on the floor and wailed that he wanted the toy "right nooooow" while his parents frantically hushed him and told him that they just wanted to make sure that they told Santa the right toy to get him. I sat there, thinking, he's not going to buy that. HE BOUGHT IT. He got up, wiped the snot off his face and walked out of the store with his liars for parents.

This brings me to another point: kids are stupid. We take them to stores where you can obviously buy the toys that you want, but then tell them that every Christmas, a big, fat guy brings them the exact presents that they wanted. Hell, in this case, this kid's parents showed him the toy that he is going to be getting for Christmas and then convinced him that they were Santa's personal shoppers when he tried to catch on. Any person in their right mind would see right through this bullshit, but not kids. Kids will believe anything. I once made my kid believe that our asshole tortoise was really a Ninja Turtle on vacation.

I made the decision to not create the Santa Claus illusion for my son mostly because I want the credit for the hours, people shoving, and sitting in traffic it took to get him all these badass toys.

Which goes to say, my Christmas shopping adventure was successful. My kid's going to love me in a month. Me, not some fat guy.


Sincerely,


The Average Person

Alive!

I'm ashamed of how long it's been since I posted, but in my defense, I was sick. Like, really sick. Like, my liver started failing sick.

You know those symptoms of minor illnesses that "one in 192121998789 people" get? Yeah, I'm that person. Always.

Anyway, I'm better now! So, I'll post more.

Things currently on my mind:

I want a dog. SO BAD, IT'S RIDICULOUS. I'm on Petfinder every day just pining for that perfect pup. I want a shelter dog, but really, I want a pound puppy. Not actually a puppy because I don't have the time for another baby, but I'd love to rescue an awesome dog that deserves another chance.

Candles. I don't know what it is about cold weather, but I must have at least three candles lit at all times or I will die. Not really, but you get the idea. I'm obsessed. Right now, I have 6 going. Too much? Nahhhhhh.

I'm really tired of people here in Texas complaining about how "cold" it is. It's 50 degrees! That's really not that cold. Stop it.



Now, wasn't that an exciting read?? I promise I'll post something more interesting once I get back into my groove.


Sincerely,

The Average Person

The Average Dental Appointment

I'm not huge on going to the dentist. I've never had a cavity and I take good-ish care of my teeth. Well, beginning two years ago, I began going to the dentist regularly. I have many reasons for disliking the dentist's office, one of which is that there is no way that I can engage in small talk with someone's hands in my mouth. I just can't do it. But, really, I hate going to the dentist because my dentist is obsessed with me getting this toothbrush:


The Philips Fucking Sonicare Toothbrush



This is a $90 toothbrush! Ain't no way I'm paying that much for oral care. If you've gathered anything from reading my blog, it should be that I am a giant cheap-ass. Now, the dentist's reasoning is this: I have a permanent retainer behind my bottom front teeth that I've had since I had braces when I was a kid. His argument is that I am not able to clean in between my bottom teeth properly without this $100 toothbrush. And you know what? Maybe he's right. It's a pain in the ass to floss those teeth, so I don't. If the toothbrush wasn't $120, I would probably be all for it. BUT I'M NOT.

So, I hate going to the dentist. Every time I go, he gives me a lecture about how I really need this toothbrush and every time I smile and say, "You're right. Let me sell everything I own so that I can clean in between my teeth a little better." One time, he even gave me an expired coupon. He says, "This won't actually save you any money, but if you stick it somewhere so you'll see it often, maybe you'll remember to go pick one up!" So, I stuck it in my trash can.

Before this last visit, I was really dreading my appointment. I hadn't picked up the $150 toothbrush and he was bound to say something about it. I was about to cancel my appointment and vow to never see him again, when I had the best idea: I was going to trick my dentist. Starting a week before my appointment, I took the time to floss my bottom teeth every day (such a pain in the ass) and I brushed three times a day instead of my usual two. By the time my appointment arrived, my teeth fucking sparkled. Of course, the dentist asked me about my entire life while his hands were in my mouth, but he never said anything about the toothbrush. Then, as I'm walking out the door, he says:

"I'm glad you finally picked up that toothbrush. Your teeth look great."


BOOM, BITCHES.

I tricked a dentist.

If you think about it, I guess it could be said that he tricked me into cleaning my teeth better. But only for two weeks before every dental appointment. So, I still win.

Sincerely,

The Average Person

The Average Vacation, Part 2

So, I left off with my son pooping his pants in Chickfila, then passing out as soon as he was put in his car seat. The adventure didn't stop there. It never does.

Once I'd recovered from my hysterics, I pulled out of the parking lot and my GPS immediately led me the wrong direction. And so begins our 3 hour journey.

Hour 1: RHM was still asleep this hour, so it was a fairly uneventful one. I was able to listen to some new CDs and "relax" some.

Hour 2: RHM woke up, so we stopped at a gas station for a potty break. This gas station was literally the most disgusting station I'd ever been to. Now, let me back up and say that I originally exited at this location because I saw a big Exxon sign that looked new and shiny. Once I and several other cars exited, we all realized that it looked so new and shiny because it was new. Brand new. So new, the building wasn't even completed yet. So, we were forced to pull into the reject gas station across the street that will obviously go out of business once the Exxon opens. Now, RHM doesn't like going to the restroom unless it is HIS idea, so each bathroom break on this trip took tons of coaxing, bribing, and, in some cases, threatening. In this particular instance, the offer of Iron Man fruit snacks did the trick. We get into the bathroom and it literally looks like the scene from a horror movie. Especially if that horror movie had the title, Germs: The Takeover. I reluctantly took RHM into one of the stalls and after several cries of "Don't touch that!" "Definitely don't touch that!" "WHY are you on the floor??" and "Don't even think about licking that door!" we made it out alive. We both practically bathed in hand sanitizer, got in the car, and continued on our way.

Hour 3: RHM was content listening to music and the world was at peace. There's a section of this journey that doesn't have any gas stations for about 60 miles. I have almost run out of gas there in the past. So, once we reached the "This is the last gas station for a really long time" sign, we stopped to fill up on gas and take a potty break. When we got back into the car, things went well for a few miles. Then, this big, black SUV zoomed in out of nowhere and pretty much attached itself to my bumper. Now, I was going about 5 over the speed limit, so obviously, this was super annoying. There was a car in the left lane that wasn't going fast enough for this SUV, either, so he rode my ass for the next 10 miles. Finally, I started getting cheeky. I pumped my brakes, reduced my speed, and made cranky comments under my breath. You know, typical passive aggressive road rage techniques. Finally, the car in the left lane got tired of Black SUV's shit and sped up and changed lanes so that he could pass us. As he's passing, I planned to give him a dirty look, maybe flip him the bird...whatever. But I noticed that the SUV was an Escalade. With huge spinning rims. And plates from Mexico. HOLY SHIT, I JUST PASSIVELY AGGRESSIVELY ROAD RAGED ON THE MEXICAN CARTEL. So, naturally, I played clueless as they passed and pretended to be rocking out to my music. Whew.

Finally, we arrived at our destination. But not before almost wrecking because of my shock of seeing this:

WHY would they still leave this up? To give people heart attacks?

 This gas station has obviously been closed for years.

The rest of the vacation went pretty well. We visited my dear friend and RHM only intentionally pissed on her floor once. She took us to the beach where our umbrella WOULD NOT stay in the ground, I chased RHM for 10 minutes trying to get a family picture and failed, and I left looking like a half albino lobster. I seriously need to start asking for help when applying sunscreen. There were literally hand prints on my back.

One of my favorite parts of this vacation was the night before we left, my friend wanted to make us dinner, but we needed to get the ingredients at the store first. RHM was watching Bubble Guppies (gag) and when I told him that we were leaving, he flat out refused. Being the clever mother of a two year old that I am, I told him that it could be pirate mission and we could go look for treasure. He's obsessed with pirates, so he obviously bought it. When we got to the store, he didn't want to sit in the basket, so I convinced him that the basket was really a pirate ship and that was a huge hit. He told me that his pirate name was Captain Sea-Dog and tried to slip candy into the basket several different times. I was totally into it. Probably more than Captain Sea-Dog.

Tia's dinner was AWESOME, by the way

The next day, we made the trip back home. The drive was fairly uneventful, just more potty stops and bribes of Iron Man fruit snacks. We stopped at SeaWorld before we went home and RHM spent at least an hour running through the shark aquarium. I was totally down with that.

All in all, a good vacation. I'm ready for another one. Here are some pictures from the trip! Follow my shenanigans on Instagram for real time scoop on my next adventure: @theavgperson

The view from the Port Isabel Lighthouse

Awkward family photo

I ran around the beach for 10 minutes for THIS?

Sincerely,

The Average Person