The Soccer Mom on Manners

Anything could happen!

     Saturday night, I was sitting in a small theatre excitedly waiting for the show to start. My favorite part of any show is right before it starts, because at that moment you know almost anything could happen. Looking around me I stared at the set and tried to imagine where the play would take me. It was at that time that a most unsavory item found its way into my sight-lines. Well, not so much found its way as shoved itself all up in my business. A woman was sticking her rear end in my face at a distance of less that a foot.Her butt was in my grill because she wanted to talk to the woman sitting in front of me, and the soccer mom in me was infuriated by her lack of manners. I was infuriated for a good 10 minutes, and that was a lot of posterior in my face. 

Spicy Tom's Tiny Transportation

   Honestly, is it so hard to be polite? Manners don't cost you anything and it makes life so much more pleasant for everyone involved. Like when you call a place of business and the person answers by saying, "Hello Spicy Tom's Tiny Taco Shack this is Winston", use their name when they give it to you. The correct response would be, "Hello Winston, I would like to order the teeny tiny taco tray." Then you end the conversation with the correct pleasantries. It costs you nothing and you eliminate the chances of Winston spitting on your teeny tiny taco tray.

Goat cheese man, but not smelly because he looks nice

    Another example of retail manners would be when you're at the checkout, checking out. For the love of all that is holy be nice to the cashier, they have to deal with people like you and with people like that big smelly guy in front of you who keeps asking why they won't use his expired coupon for goat cheese. If they ask you how you're doing respond with an, "I'm good, how are you?". Even if you are not in fact good, don't unload your problems on them because they have enough to deal with already (remember goat cheese man). By asking them how they are doing you are making it seem like you care and these means a lot to the retail folk (trust me, I used to be one of them). When you are polite to them, they are polite to you and your day will be filled with wonderful rays of sunshine, sprays of glitter, and herds of unicorns.

Seriously...Don't do this to people

     If you are aware of the correct politeness to use, and you do not then that makes you the big smelly goat cheese man. These are the people who steal the parking space you were so clearly going after. The individuals who think that it is okay to order a meal costing $50 and leave no tip. Our world is overpopulated with smelly goat cheese men and it is up to you to help decrease this surplus population. Do not stand in front of someone in a theater and stick your butt in their face as you talk to someone. Sit down in the chair next to them and hold your conversation that way. It makes it less awkward for everyone involved, because I'm pretty sure her chest was up in someone else's face. She is a smelly goat cheese man.

    There are so many situations where politeness should be used, and I'm going to go ahead and guess that people are very aware of these situations as they happen. For the love of Tiny Tom's Taco shack use your manners because the Soccer Mom expects it of you, and so does Winston. 

Don't let Winston down

Demon Turtles of my Youth

6th Grade art...Egyptian supposedly

     Today my mom decided it would be a good idea to clean out my closet, and for some reason I agreed...I'm pretty sure that she made my favorite food last night so I couldn't say no to her.With the taste of BBQ still on my mind I sauntered up to help clean my closet. I have a walk in closet so this was no easy feat, I mean, there is just so much crap that can be jammed onto that top shelf! Clutching her handy little step stool like some kind of cleaning Marine my mom marched into enemy territory and began the attack on keepsakes. As she began handing me box after box I was starting to regret my decision, this was a lot of prime nap time going to waste. Opening the first box I found a folder and was immediately transported back in time.

5th Grade:Jasmine and Anastasia

     I was an aspiring artist in fifth grade, and this folder was proof of my attempts at art. The pictures of princesses fell into my lap and I was mildly impressed with what I found. I mean, I could at least identify what princess I had drawn, and had gotten their facial features pretty decently. Setting aside my artwork I found a folder containing my old papers, and it was hilarious. In 8th grade I wrote an epic tale about a hippie named Smelly Stan who was left all by himself to paint the freedom van. It's good to know I was weird back then as well. Oh, and no worries about Smelly Stan he worked out all the problems he had with Flower Fran and Peace Paul, it's cool or as I wrote in my paper "groovy". Smiling a big grin at how ridiculous the story was I plunged further into the box, and was completely mortified at what I found.

DEMON!

No words to describe the horror

     "Eww!!!What the hell is this?!?!?!?" I screamed to my mother. "Throw it away!!!!!!!" This green blob was in my hands and I had no clue what it was. All I knew was that it looked suspiciously like something you find in a horror film, one of those possessed objects that comes to cut you in the night. A faint memory came forward as I looked closely at the item. Oh dear lord, I had made this monstrosity. My mom just looked at me and started chuckling as I slowly figured out what it was, the verdict? It was a turtle. His little deformed head went through the back of the hat just like it was his shell. I looked at my mom and told her it was a turtle, she just kept laughing at me as I looked at my creation in disgust. The funny thing about this was, my mom probably had to pretend at one point that she loved that turtle, my poor mother.

Oh!It's a turtle.Gross

     Thankfully, I didn't find anything else quite that scary in my boxes of mementos. It was a lot of fun to be able to look through those boxes and find old school work, toys, and pictures. My mom made sure I kept things that were important to me at one time, and they still hold that importance for me today. I was able to hold every item and remember just what it meant, and the fun I had playing with it. It took me a little over two hours to go through three boxes of keepsakes, and that didn't seem like enough time. Going through your childhood can be fun, but it sucks the energy right out of you and it made me feel old. The good news is that my closet is now completely cleaned and organized, and the scary demon turtle is in the trash. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up tomorrow morning to find him waiting for me on my floor.

Sweaty and Hungry

Me in the cold

     Just so you know, I live in Moorhead Minnesota and it's ridiculously cold here. Let me paint you a little picture of how insanely cold it is. You look out your window and see a bright blue sky and magnificently glowing sun, and so you rejoice. Walking outside with a big dumb grin on your face you find you can't move your lips, your face has been frozen. In an attempt to warm up your face you try to move your hands, which have been frozen inside your coat pockets. The only part of yourself that you can move is your legs, but you can't really move your feet. So you begin your epic journey with a very creepy minion-esc limp. I think that's the best comparison, it's so dang cold outside that you end up looking like Dr. Frankenstein's assistant. That was my month of January.

Putting on my warm clothes

      One of my New Year's resolutions was to walk more, and so I decided it would be a good idea to walk to my organ lessons. I have a lesson once a week at a church that is a couple blocks away from Concordia (my college) and I thought it would be a good idea to start walking there instead of driving. Preparing myself for the cold temperatures I wore a thick sweater, a heavy jacket, warm socks, grippy boots, earmuffs, and jeans. When I was done bundling I looked like a deranged woolly mammoth about to cross the Arctic Tundra, which was not far from the truth. I set out on my journey with determination, that was immediately swept away by the -40 degree wind that slapped my face. It felt like I was standing outside in a swimsuit instead of 80 layers of clothing. Despite the cold I pressed on toward my destination, my organ lesson was waiting.

My face with frostbite

    Trudging up 8th street I bent my head into the wind and discovered I couldn't feel my legs, this wouldn't have been a problem except I was going to need them to play the organ. Concentrating heavily on my appendages I willed my blood to circulate faster. My heart must have heard me because all of the sudden I realized how sweaty I was, and it was freaking me out. Girls are not supposed to sweat and be all gross, but I broke a stereotype that day by becoming excessively sweaty. The combination of walking and 6 shirts had taken its toll on my upper half and I wanted nothing more that to remove my coat. Keep in mind that while my upper half was boiling my lower half was reaching the early stages of frost bite and would probably need to be amputated. The wind stung my face and caused my eyes to water profusely. Now I was sweaty, tearing up, and also becoming slightly disoriented as I could swear the church was getting further away instead of closer. Fighting against all the odds I reached the church safely, if not with a slight freezer burn on my face and legs.  

Look out rabbits, I'm hungry

    Once my lesson was over I prepared myself for the journey home, which was with the wind instead of against it. Even though it wasn't as face-numbingly cold, I still became rather sweaty. It was at this point that I realized my epic hunger. It seems that battling against the Arctic winds can cause you to work up an appetite. If there had been small prey in my sights, I'm pretty sure some basic animal instinct would have kicked in and I would become conscious of my actions only after I had a big bite of raw dead rabbit in my mouth. Barreling my way through the snow and ice I finally reached my destination, the theatre lobby. My face was red, my makeup was streaking, and my hair looked like it had become caught in a wood chipper. Opening my bleary snowblind eyes in the dark lobby I spotted two of my friends. They asked how I was doing. My reply? "If I were to write an autobiography right now it would be titled Sweaty and Hungry."