I have been spoiled my entire life, and I am well aware of this fact. Not just spoiled because I'm an only child, and I rarely wanted for anything... Spoiled because I am so very fortunate, that through all of my formative years, I had two parents. Two parents that lived at home, with me, never divorced, never separated (Even after the time dad bought a boat without talking to mom first) always together in a family unit. As my regular readers know, and friends are well aware, I had the most amazing childhood/adolescent years. I was very aware my parents weren't perfect. I was aware there were disagreements and tense moments, that lead to tense days on occasion. But I learned, through them what marriage is. I saw, that through both of my parents faults, you can still love one person and stand by them through all of their questionable decisions. Perhaps my mom's death was most upsetting to my father because he had stood by my mom through situations that were difficult, and she still chose to take her own life, instead of telling him about what was happening, and what she was going through. I remember my mom saying to me one time that she didn't know why dad stayed with her all those years because she was so imperfect. I told her, that's probably the reason he did stay. Perfect is boring, it's the imperfections that make life an adventure.
It was three years in July that my mom has been gone now. Three years sometimes feels like only a few weeks, other times it feels like 30 years. I sometimes struggle to remember what her voice sounded like, what her laugh sounded like... and I dream of her all the time. In the dreams though she is never as she was here on earth. She is unhappy sometimes, or sad, or I am trying to prove myself to her in some way. It's not unusual to wake up at least twice a week with tear stained cheeks in the morning as I didn't want the dream to end and I wanted to see her longer, even if she wasn't her earthly, boisterous self in the dream.
I didn't expect my dad to be a loner for the rest of his life when my mom died. But I certainly, didn't know if I could ever be ready for him to get remarried, let alone, have him remarry in a matter of 90 days of meeting someone. In my mind if he was to get remarried some day, I would have time adjust to this idea and learn about the woman. I was given none of that. While it was not my choice to have him move this quickly, it certainly is my choice to ask for time to adjust, and voice my concerns. To say the last three months have been hard, would be a MAJOR understatement.
After my mom passed, I sought a grief counselor for support. It's America right?! That's what we do, we talk to therapists! I have seen one on and off, generally around the holidays, and the anniversary of her death as that is when I am flooded with the most thoughts of her. When late September hit and dad said he was dating a lady, I didn't think much of it. Two weeks later they were proclaiming their love on facebook, I made an emergency session with my therapist. He has read my blog and said that he is quite sure this is where my mental clarity comes from, it is because of this writing (and really all writing I've done in the past, I've always been a journal keeper) I gain closure, vent, and it is in my writing, where I am most honest and don't hide behind my sense of humor like I can so easily do in daily conversations. I write this post for myself and needing this for me... Not out of lack of respect for my father or his new wife. This is how I see the situation, and in writing not only do I seek clarity, I seek hope that someday I will be able to be able to be around my father and bride without a bottle of wine on board.
The week after dad told me he was seeing someone he asked me to meet her. I said no. While I understood she made dad happy, she was nothing that I needed. This started a few disagreements between dad and I. Usually me in tears because he wasn't hearing that I just needed time. I understood he needed her, couldn't I take time to chew on this?? One conversation in particular ended up with him hanging up on me when I shouted at him I would rather just meet this woman than be anywhere near him because at least she seems to understand I need time to wrap my head around this whirlwind romance. What was most sad to me, is that the man, who just a few years prior had gone through the very same situation of losing mom, the only one on the face of the earth that could understand that kind of loss, was now saying, I don't understand you, I don't think your feelings are justified. This has cut to the very core of me, and I can barely type that sentence without tears welling up in my eyes. As the weeks leading up to the wedding got closer, the farther away I grew from dad. I said very little when we did talk on the phone because I didn't want it to end in a fight. What was also hurtful at this time, were the people contacting me in my fathers life that had concerns about how quickly this romance was moving. They were concerned.. YET, magically somehow, thanks to social media, they were congratulating him and liking all of his soon to be marital bliss status updates. But I get to look like the crazy person when I question him about the speed of this. Or perhaps it was the Christmas letter I received from an aunt who instead of saying: I'm happy for your dad, but I can see this is hard on you, how are you doing? She said: Your uncle and I support this marriage of your father's and you should support him, life is too short... and she proceeded to berate me and my attitude about the upcoming nuptials. Life is short huh? I guess she thought I didn't realize that when three summers ago I was eating an ear of sweet corn at dinner, all is right with the world, 30 seconds later, a phone call telling me my mother is dead. Life is short. No. Fucking. Shit.
The combination of the above mentioned, dad leaving the city and home that I had grown up in to move in with his new wife, thoughts of what the future meant for me and where I stand in this new family unit... well, all of that was irritating me to new levels. I have no siblings, my mother is dead, and now my dad is remarried. The one person in my family I have left in the world, and now he has someone to fill the void of mom. My mother is gone and now my dad is as well. This is how it felt.
Then the anger came, this is also what my counselor and other therapists refer to as, "The break through." After mom died, I had to pull myself up, get back to work, worry about getting dad adjusted. For God's sake the man hadn't run a vaccuum in nearly 40 years, he was on a ton of meds and mom laid them out for him every day, I was constantly worried about him. Then about 8 months after mom died, dad started taking extended breaks from work where he was 'sick'. All of a sudden I get texts and emails from his co workers or their wives saying dad has not been at work for two weeks. I was spending 2-3 weekends a month at his house for nearly 3 years because I was so worried... or there's the morning I get a phone call from dad saying, I know it's not bad and I'm not going to do anything... but I can't get out of the house. I can't go to work, I think I am going to check myself into the stress unit... I had to take care of myself, my job, worry about him, wonder if he was going to work, wonder if he was going to get fired, wonder what would happen if he would get fired, wonder if he was going to some day end it like mom did...and one person in a matter of a few weeks can come in and fix everything??! FUCK THAT.
It was at that very moment I understood why I was so angry at my dad. Yes I was sad that he was remarrying, and that the marriage that created me, was now officially, null and void, but I was angry because the last part of my 20's and early 30's I was focused on him and not me. SELFISH? Absolutely. But this is where the emotions were stemming from.
They got married on December 28. I didn't want to be there, nor did I want to stand up for my father in a wedding I am not sure I believed (believe) in. The only thing that even got me there was the thought of my mom. I remember a man from Hollandale getting remarried after an ugly divorce, and I remember my mom saying that at the wedding, his kids weren't there. The wedding was about to start and he kept looking to the back of the church, straining his neck to see if his kids were coming. They never showed. She said it hurt him deeply, and I remember her saying that some day his kids would realize that whether they agree or not in their father's choices, he is their only father, and they would regret not being there. I hope some day I will be glad I was there.
Do I realize how this is a positive? Sure, I can see in ways it is. It's good because if someone he has known for a few months can give him that kind of happiness that he needs to get up in the morning that's great. I can now focus on myself and my life and not living in this cloud of constant worry about him. I most certainly can see the good. I just wish I could have had time to wrap my arms around this entirely weird situation. But it's not my life, or business, and I need to just do me, for the first time in three years, I get to focus on me... and it feels... lonely at times because I really feel like I am alone, for the first time, like in a way I was dealt a death of another parent... But I was also reminded of what wonderful friends I have. Friends that didn't once say: Yay for your dad he can be happy!! They said: It's good if this gets him thinking positively again, but holy shit, this is fucked up that you have to deal with this.
That's life though right? Messed up situations that people don't necessarily want to deal with, but are forced to. It's how you choose to deal with the bullshit life hands you that determines who you become. I realize I have a long way to go before I can ever fully accept dad's new marriage. I know that I am still in ways dealing with the loss of my mother. But for the time being both dad and his wife understand I am taking time to understand it.. and some day, maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even a year from now.. but some day I will understand why a 90 day marriage was right for them. After all, people don't understand why I have the same tattoo that Johnny Depp has, but it doesn't matter, they dont' have to. It makes sense to me.
Until next time - Bitches.
Friday, January 10, 2014
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Personality profiles: accurate or a bunch of BS?
As you are all aware, I recently took a new job. As part of what seemed like an unending training cycle for the new gig, there was a personality profile that needed to be completed. I could tell where this was going. Find out your personality type in order to find out how you will mesh with your new team. This time it was different. The company I now work for, actually wanted to know our persona's, and give a 4+ hour training to us on different personalities so we could identify the type of person we were speaking with when issues would arise. This way we could best formulate a plan of how to help the customer (Or Learner if you will, since I work for a university) and really hear them out, and keep them happy with the University as a whole.
Now this seemed like something I could really use. Just maybe I would find out for once, something more than I am empathetic and a people person. To say I have been analyzing all of my friends and family ever sense.... is correct. I have always found people's identities interesting, and finding out what makes someone 'tick' is something I have always enjoyed. So, when pondering what my next blog would be about.. and since a blog is ALL about the person writing it... I decided my beloved followers would love nothing more, than to know what makes me tick, how I respond in situations, and how to get the best response from me in any said situation. I don't think any of these findings will surprise those of you that know me well. For your enjoyment I decided to add in stories of times my response was EXACTLY what was mentioned in my assessment of my personality.
There are six distinct individuality types according to the personality survey I completed. Everyone at some point or another has displayed the different six personality types. But everyone has a base and phase personality. My base personality is: Reactions. My phase personality: Emotions. Just hearing the combination of those two made me think I probably need to be in some form of therapy and/or meds for the rest of my life. Sounds like someone who flies off the handle and is a sobbing mess all day! Not accurate... well, not really... Here are six major make ups of my personality combo: Reactions/Emotions
1.) When things are good for Reactions folks, they're VERY GOOD.. but when they're bad, we're DYING.
*I get laid off in August. I cry for a day straight, and start planning what one brings to the homeless shelter. In hindsight, I had a really decent severance AND unemployment, settle down Radke. In other words, I'm a tad on the overly dramatic side on occasion... I say at least 3 times a week: OMG: Worst. Day. Ever. Followed usually an hour or two later with: YESSSSSSSS! You just made my LIFE! Variety is the spice of life.
2.) The combination of my base and phase personalities create an identity that is exciting, lively, and fun to be around. However, the Reactions person lives in a world of likes and dislikes. My world is black and white. Reactions peeps are a good judge of character and usually get it right the first time.
*Whether I'm on a date, meeting new people for the first time, or in any social situations in general, I will have an individual or group sized up in a matter of moments. I will know within that time frame if I will want to make room for them in my life, or simply let them float out again. In other words, if you hang with me, you're good people.
3.) The Reactions/Emotions person does things for others to see other's response and bring happiness to that person's life. They don't ask for anything in return, but we WANT to be acknowledged for the good deed by hugs, being doted on and then having that person talk about how great we are!
*I was crazy about a boy when I was in college. This boy was a real piece of work. I knew that for him a particular concert he wanted to go to would just blow his mind. So I buy tickets, drive to get him, drive to the venue of the concert, drive back to his college, and then drive back to my college the next day in the middle of finals. Not only did he not acknowledge that I was paying for the tickets, gas, parking, driving to and from putting about 600 miles on my car round trip... He barely acted like he even enjoyed the entire day/evening! I just wanted to see him enjoying it and then talk about how he couldn't believe I went out of my way for him in creating this perfect night! I can't remember, but I sure hope I didn't put out that night.
4.) Just because the Reactions group uses profanity, does not mean we're purposely being profane. We use this language to punctuate points and the importance of the story or situation we're explaining. Since those of us with the Reaction base are artistic, visual, and have a love for all words, we see this as a way to make our points colorful and stand out to others.
*If you've spent 10 minutes with me, you know I swear like a sailor and LOVE IT. Nothing feels better when you're upset than just exploding into a rant of colorful curse words. It's like a cleansing for me. I can clean it up when at work, and with children (mostly) and priests... but otherwise..
5.) If it's not joyful, what's the point?? This is the mantra of the Reactions individual. Having contact with people, playfulness, lightness and fun is what we want and strive for daily. In the work place Reactions think: no research has been done that has ever said you can't have fun and NOT be successful, so why not make each day fun?
* Pretty self explanatory for me. I have been accused of being too lighthearted, or never taking anything seriously. Which is completely untrue. I love a good serious chat, BUT don't let seriousness ruin my thoughts personally or professionally. It's easy to get into a cycle of 'Oh whoa is me' if I continuously dwell on the serious, so I've learned over the years, it's much easier to focus on something for a bit, be serious, have the conversations that need to happen, and then move on. Laughing at something dumb I've done or said, or poking fun at someone, is what makes my days tolerable. After my mom died, I was devastated. My friends that were coming to the funeral were anxious to get there to support me, but also nervous because they didn't know what to say at this horrible time. I was told afterwards, that as a friend of mine entered the church for the service, she was immediately put at ease because she heard my laugh echo throughout the church. She said she knew at that time, that I was okay, and seeing me would be fine. Yeah, something horrible had happened, BUT I didn't want how my mom died, or her untimely death determine how people would remember her, which was a person who was always light hearted and laughing. Also, being my personality type, I wanted others to feel comfortable at the service, so I told funny stories about her as I saw people, or jokes she had with people, to put them at ease. I may have been "dying" in that moment, but there was no need to put others through that pain that I was feeling. I wanted them to take in the person she was and celebrate that, fun and jokes are what drove my mother every day. Easy to see where I got this part of my personality from.
6.) This next part of my persona is probably my favorite, because it's really kind of weird.. and has never been called out to me until earlier this summer. I didn't think much about it at the time, but after getting my assessment back last week, I had a total giggle fit about it. Reactions people focus on trying hard, we are pleasers. HOWEVER, Reactionary types are usually only children, or youngest in the birth order. So our entire lives we have had people help us. Ultimately... we got a little lazy.. "If I struggle cleaning my room, you'll just do it for me." "But mom, I don't know where the dust rags are, I have SOOOO much homework..." And ultimately we just wait for someone to do this for us. Going off to college is often challenging for these types as we have had things done for us for so long, they now need to be self sufficient and it's a large adjustment.
*After this portion of my make up was explained to me, I could think of about a dozen examples. The morning I was leaving for college I just had a few things left to pack. One of them was my alarm clock. Which, oddly enough, I NEVER used over the course of my childhood into my teenage years. My mom was up, she would wake my ass up, and she was my alarm. I was leaving for college (which if you read my earlier blogs, was traumatic initially, thanks to my personality, as I've discovered) I woke up that morning, unplugged my alarm clock to pack...and then it dawned on me: I have NO idea how to set my alarm clock! I walked downstairs, threw my clock down and said, "Here's my shitty alarm clock! I don't even know how to set it!" To which dad calmly showed me, and then I was fine. That entire exchange was about three portions of my personality rolled into one. Now this past summer, was my college's centennial. They had a massive blow out for it in June. My friends and I got a chance to come back to campus, drink like we were 21 again, and have a weekend of memories. Also, I got a chance to see some of my former student ambassadors that I aided in molding into the young adults they had become. Not realizing it.. I was bossing them around the ENTIRE weekend I saw them. "Hey! Guess what?? Mama's beer is empty...who's gonna go fill it up for her?" Or: "Yeah, yeah, that's just never going to work, here's what I need you to do for me.." And I proceeded to direct them around to have them help me get whatever I needed at that moment. My college roommate's husband Saturday afternoon finally stopped everything at one point and said, "How do you do it?! How do you get people to constantly do things for you?!" Then Mary, my roomie said, "Yeah! How DO you do it?! I've gotten Dorito's for you when you were laying on the couch and yelled for a snack! I never thought anything of it.. I just did it." I shrugged, just assuming I was that awesome. Not thinking for a minute it had to do with my personality or why I am the way I am. Mary went on to say that she thought people did what I asked because in the back of my family and friend's minds they want to please me, to make me happy, "If I don't do this, will Megan still be my friend?!" She went on to explain of course she knew I would still be her friend if she didn't bring me whatever I demanded, but due to my command of the situation saying no, just wasn't an option. Which is exactly what this personality assessment concluded with. My unique, and semi rare personality gets me things from people because I, in some weird way, create an inviting environment for people to wait on me! This oddly enough also sounds like a cult leader... Hmmm. Cult O' Radke. I like it. However this same personality that demands things done like refilling my beer, also does things to please others because they take great joy in that as well, we crave people and building a relationship with someone. While I will be serious and can carry on in a respective manner, more times than not, I'm the girl on a table after a few drinks.
So, after reading this, what do you, the reader take away? What I didn't go into was the 6 personality types because it would have made this even more boring than this rambling is already. BUT, we encounter these 6 types of personalities on a daily basis. Each of those types have different psychological needs. When encountering people, so both parties receive what both need out of the conversation, pick up on cues that are being given out in the conversation. But mostly, think of a spin on The Golden Rule. The ol' "Do onto others as you would have them do onto you." Think of it more like: Do onto others as they would LIKE to be done onto. If you think about that twist, you will start seeing the world just a smidge differently.
Now this seemed like something I could really use. Just maybe I would find out for once, something more than I am empathetic and a people person. To say I have been analyzing all of my friends and family ever sense.... is correct. I have always found people's identities interesting, and finding out what makes someone 'tick' is something I have always enjoyed. So, when pondering what my next blog would be about.. and since a blog is ALL about the person writing it... I decided my beloved followers would love nothing more, than to know what makes me tick, how I respond in situations, and how to get the best response from me in any said situation. I don't think any of these findings will surprise those of you that know me well. For your enjoyment I decided to add in stories of times my response was EXACTLY what was mentioned in my assessment of my personality.
There are six distinct individuality types according to the personality survey I completed. Everyone at some point or another has displayed the different six personality types. But everyone has a base and phase personality. My base personality is: Reactions. My phase personality: Emotions. Just hearing the combination of those two made me think I probably need to be in some form of therapy and/or meds for the rest of my life. Sounds like someone who flies off the handle and is a sobbing mess all day! Not accurate... well, not really... Here are six major make ups of my personality combo: Reactions/Emotions
1.) When things are good for Reactions folks, they're VERY GOOD.. but when they're bad, we're DYING.
*I get laid off in August. I cry for a day straight, and start planning what one brings to the homeless shelter. In hindsight, I had a really decent severance AND unemployment, settle down Radke. In other words, I'm a tad on the overly dramatic side on occasion... I say at least 3 times a week: OMG: Worst. Day. Ever. Followed usually an hour or two later with: YESSSSSSSS! You just made my LIFE! Variety is the spice of life.
2.) The combination of my base and phase personalities create an identity that is exciting, lively, and fun to be around. However, the Reactions person lives in a world of likes and dislikes. My world is black and white. Reactions peeps are a good judge of character and usually get it right the first time.
*Whether I'm on a date, meeting new people for the first time, or in any social situations in general, I will have an individual or group sized up in a matter of moments. I will know within that time frame if I will want to make room for them in my life, or simply let them float out again. In other words, if you hang with me, you're good people.
3.) The Reactions/Emotions person does things for others to see other's response and bring happiness to that person's life. They don't ask for anything in return, but we WANT to be acknowledged for the good deed by hugs, being doted on and then having that person talk about how great we are!
*I was crazy about a boy when I was in college. This boy was a real piece of work. I knew that for him a particular concert he wanted to go to would just blow his mind. So I buy tickets, drive to get him, drive to the venue of the concert, drive back to his college, and then drive back to my college the next day in the middle of finals. Not only did he not acknowledge that I was paying for the tickets, gas, parking, driving to and from putting about 600 miles on my car round trip... He barely acted like he even enjoyed the entire day/evening! I just wanted to see him enjoying it and then talk about how he couldn't believe I went out of my way for him in creating this perfect night! I can't remember, but I sure hope I didn't put out that night.
4.) Just because the Reactions group uses profanity, does not mean we're purposely being profane. We use this language to punctuate points and the importance of the story or situation we're explaining. Since those of us with the Reaction base are artistic, visual, and have a love for all words, we see this as a way to make our points colorful and stand out to others.
*If you've spent 10 minutes with me, you know I swear like a sailor and LOVE IT. Nothing feels better when you're upset than just exploding into a rant of colorful curse words. It's like a cleansing for me. I can clean it up when at work, and with children (mostly) and priests... but otherwise..
5.) If it's not joyful, what's the point?? This is the mantra of the Reactions individual. Having contact with people, playfulness, lightness and fun is what we want and strive for daily. In the work place Reactions think: no research has been done that has ever said you can't have fun and NOT be successful, so why not make each day fun?
* Pretty self explanatory for me. I have been accused of being too lighthearted, or never taking anything seriously. Which is completely untrue. I love a good serious chat, BUT don't let seriousness ruin my thoughts personally or professionally. It's easy to get into a cycle of 'Oh whoa is me' if I continuously dwell on the serious, so I've learned over the years, it's much easier to focus on something for a bit, be serious, have the conversations that need to happen, and then move on. Laughing at something dumb I've done or said, or poking fun at someone, is what makes my days tolerable. After my mom died, I was devastated. My friends that were coming to the funeral were anxious to get there to support me, but also nervous because they didn't know what to say at this horrible time. I was told afterwards, that as a friend of mine entered the church for the service, she was immediately put at ease because she heard my laugh echo throughout the church. She said she knew at that time, that I was okay, and seeing me would be fine. Yeah, something horrible had happened, BUT I didn't want how my mom died, or her untimely death determine how people would remember her, which was a person who was always light hearted and laughing. Also, being my personality type, I wanted others to feel comfortable at the service, so I told funny stories about her as I saw people, or jokes she had with people, to put them at ease. I may have been "dying" in that moment, but there was no need to put others through that pain that I was feeling. I wanted them to take in the person she was and celebrate that, fun and jokes are what drove my mother every day. Easy to see where I got this part of my personality from.
6.) This next part of my persona is probably my favorite, because it's really kind of weird.. and has never been called out to me until earlier this summer. I didn't think much about it at the time, but after getting my assessment back last week, I had a total giggle fit about it. Reactions people focus on trying hard, we are pleasers. HOWEVER, Reactionary types are usually only children, or youngest in the birth order. So our entire lives we have had people help us. Ultimately... we got a little lazy.. "If I struggle cleaning my room, you'll just do it for me." "But mom, I don't know where the dust rags are, I have SOOOO much homework..." And ultimately we just wait for someone to do this for us. Going off to college is often challenging for these types as we have had things done for us for so long, they now need to be self sufficient and it's a large adjustment.
*After this portion of my make up was explained to me, I could think of about a dozen examples. The morning I was leaving for college I just had a few things left to pack. One of them was my alarm clock. Which, oddly enough, I NEVER used over the course of my childhood into my teenage years. My mom was up, she would wake my ass up, and she was my alarm. I was leaving for college (which if you read my earlier blogs, was traumatic initially, thanks to my personality, as I've discovered) I woke up that morning, unplugged my alarm clock to pack...and then it dawned on me: I have NO idea how to set my alarm clock! I walked downstairs, threw my clock down and said, "Here's my shitty alarm clock! I don't even know how to set it!" To which dad calmly showed me, and then I was fine. That entire exchange was about three portions of my personality rolled into one. Now this past summer, was my college's centennial. They had a massive blow out for it in June. My friends and I got a chance to come back to campus, drink like we were 21 again, and have a weekend of memories. Also, I got a chance to see some of my former student ambassadors that I aided in molding into the young adults they had become. Not realizing it.. I was bossing them around the ENTIRE weekend I saw them. "Hey! Guess what?? Mama's beer is empty...who's gonna go fill it up for her?" Or: "Yeah, yeah, that's just never going to work, here's what I need you to do for me.." And I proceeded to direct them around to have them help me get whatever I needed at that moment. My college roommate's husband Saturday afternoon finally stopped everything at one point and said, "How do you do it?! How do you get people to constantly do things for you?!" Then Mary, my roomie said, "Yeah! How DO you do it?! I've gotten Dorito's for you when you were laying on the couch and yelled for a snack! I never thought anything of it.. I just did it." I shrugged, just assuming I was that awesome. Not thinking for a minute it had to do with my personality or why I am the way I am. Mary went on to say that she thought people did what I asked because in the back of my family and friend's minds they want to please me, to make me happy, "If I don't do this, will Megan still be my friend?!" She went on to explain of course she knew I would still be her friend if she didn't bring me whatever I demanded, but due to my command of the situation saying no, just wasn't an option. Which is exactly what this personality assessment concluded with. My unique, and semi rare personality gets me things from people because I, in some weird way, create an inviting environment for people to wait on me! This oddly enough also sounds like a cult leader... Hmmm. Cult O' Radke. I like it. However this same personality that demands things done like refilling my beer, also does things to please others because they take great joy in that as well, we crave people and building a relationship with someone. While I will be serious and can carry on in a respective manner, more times than not, I'm the girl on a table after a few drinks.
So, after reading this, what do you, the reader take away? What I didn't go into was the 6 personality types because it would have made this even more boring than this rambling is already. BUT, we encounter these 6 types of personalities on a daily basis. Each of those types have different psychological needs. When encountering people, so both parties receive what both need out of the conversation, pick up on cues that are being given out in the conversation. But mostly, think of a spin on The Golden Rule. The ol' "Do onto others as you would have them do onto you." Think of it more like: Do onto others as they would LIKE to be done onto. If you think about that twist, you will start seeing the world just a smidge differently.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
The time I almost had to live in a homeless shelter.
Hello friends. Yes, per usual, it's been awhile. But I can explain! I always wonder who a.) is really reading this, and b.) if I really need to have anything of value to write... then I put it off and put it off..and suddenly it's been months. This will be a long one, so sit back and read about the shit show, that has been my life.
August 8, 2013 started out like any other. I found a cute outfit to wear to work, I was having a splendid hair day, was running a smidge late after getting my morning muffin and coffee at Holiday, but into work I went with a smile on my face. The following week would mark my four month anniversary at my new job, as well as switch into Academic Advising. Which I was LOVING. The challenges I saw every day were so different from that in Admissions. Parts of my brain were getting used that hadn't seen the light of day since college. My coworkers were amazing and getting used to my dark sense of humor and twisted personality. I had finally found it: My forever, big girl job.
Earlier that week, an email had been sent out from the campus president. We were going to be having a meeting on August 8th about 'changes' to the university. This sent EVERYONE into pure panic mode. "What's going on?!" "Changes??! What Changes??" "Are we downsizing?! Are people getting laid off??!" Now, for whatever reason, perhaps because for the first time in a long time I was not worried about losing my job, I suddenly became a Positive Pollyanna: "Okay guys, settle down! If there was a lay off coming, we would know about it before a MASSIVE meeting on Thursday... WE ARE FINE. Chill out." I went on about my business for the following two days.
I greet everyone as I walk into the office that morning at 9:32, only two minutes late, not shabby... poke my head into my Assistant Director's office.... Hmmm... lil' lady must be grabbing coffee this morning, not at her desk. I get to my office, put my purse away, flip my computer on, take one bite of my muffin, and my phone rings: It's the Presiden'ts office... Shit... What did I do?? Is a student already threatening a law suit on some bad advice they think they got from me?? One ring, two rings... Effffff... "This is Megan!" (in a more shrill, perky voice than I intended.) It's the director of Student Services on the phone, the person in charge of my entire office, why is she calling me from the president's office? "Morning Megan, could you join us down in President's office please?" Me, being the ever agreeable employee: "Absolutely!" I knew in that very moment, either I really screwed something up with a student, (which after thinking on that short walk to his office, I knew wasn't the case..) or I was getting fired. As I approached his door I saw him, my boss, and the HR lady. Yup, I was getting canned. I walked in with what I can only imagine was a bizaare smile on my face, said good morning, shut the door, and took a seat.
What would happen in the next 8 minutes, would change my life and how I look at the world every day. The president, a man who looks like a tree hugger, and wears suits a size or two too big for him, started what was a clearly rehearsed speech: "Megan, it's a sad day for (insert school name here), as you know numbers have been down, today, nationwide, we are letting go of many, many wonderful employees. This has NOTHING to do with performance, if you should so choose, in the future you will be able to work at this school, or our affiliates again." The entire time since I sat down I couldn't look at anyone. I just felt my skin getting tingly, looking out the massive windows in the president's large corner office... onto what I realized was a gloomy day. It was clouding over, wonder if it was going to rain? I thought to myself... I could hear the president still going on about how loved I was in such a short period of time there, blah blah blah... HOLY FUCK, I'm getting laid off. Wait... I can talk myself out of ANYTHING! I will just use my powers of persuasion, and they will give me another chance... Who am I kidding? They don't have the choice of keeping me, this came from the top, and I can't talk my way out of this. What am I going to do? How will I pay for my car? How will I pay for rent? My school loan? Am I going to have to move back to Hollandale?? I LOVE THIS JOB!! ...... I LOVE living in the Twin Cities!! SHIT!!!!
"Megan?? Megan? Are you alright?" Me: "Huh? Yeah, I'm alright, well as alright as I can be for getting laid off I guess." The HR lady started into her speech now. Going on about my severence package (which was decent, considering I'd only been there 4 months) The HR gal asked if I lived at the address they had on file for me, as they were going to need to know where to send any documents. My response: "Well it's where I live currently, that is until I can't pay my rent in a couple months and I move into a homeless shelter." I feel like she may not have been ready for that response, and I felt bad as soon as I said it. I knew she was just carrying out her job, she didn't need me to be a bitch about it. Surprisingly I didn't cry while I was in the office. The only question I asked was: Did you know this was going to happen when you hired me FOUR months ago? President: Abolutely not! When we had the positions to fill we WANTED to fill them, as we were anticipating growth... I left it at that... Later I would come to realize the lay off was so massive, that there was no way they didn't know of it four months prior. They were wishing and hoping for growth, and if it happened they could keep my position, if it wouldn't they would lay me off. They played Russian Roulette with my professional career... and I lost.
It was while my director walked me back to my office that the tears started...and wouldn't stop for a solid 24 hours. On that short walk back to my office it was like my director had a word quota she needed to hit. "I feel so bad, I'm so sorry, I didn't sleep last night...I feel like I barely got to know you." (Duh, I was here for four months.) I wasn't hearing her. I got to my desk and had to sit down a minute. I felt light headed and thought for sure I was going to pass out. It was also then she told me that my Assistant Director, who had become a good friend in a short time, was let go as well. Then the sobbing really started. She told me they would just ship everything in my office to me... but I didn't want them touching pictures of me, my family, my friends, my friend's kids... my hot priest calendar. I demanded a box. So I could at least take the important stuff. I just threw stuff in a massive box, walked to my director's office, handed her my key, badge, company credit card, and turned to leave. Then to make matters worse, she had to ride down in the elevator with me and walk me out the door. Like I was some kind of damn criminal. Like it was my fault I was being let go. I wasn't allowed to say good bye to anyone, for fear of starting a panic with the people that weren't getting shit canned. As I left the building the rain started. Perfect. I got to my car, unlocked it, sobbing the entire time... started my car, and looked at the clock. It was 10:01. In less than half an hour my world had been turned upside down.
I didn't know what to do, but I knew I didn't want to go home. Who would be around now?? It's a work day, all of my friends have jobs! Lauren! I thought to myself, she works from home... shit, she's in Des Moines for work this week... I called a few others, and left rambling, non coherent messages.. Which I've since apologized for. There was a phone call I hadn't made though... UGH, I needed to call The Mayor. But first I thought I would try to go home... I walked into my apartment, looked around, and cried so hard I thought the veins in my forehead were going to burst. "What do you pack when you live in a homeless shelter??" I somehow made some phone calls to friends that I knew had mentioned at one point or another their company was hiring, left some messages, and then cried some more.. I threw a few things in a bag, and then faced the inevitable. I called dad. Me: (through tears, snot and voice that wasn't my own.) So, my position was eliminated in a company restructuring and I don't have a job. The Mayor: Wait, what? Me: I can't be at my apartment and all of my friends have jobs and I don't.. I'm coming to Hollandale. The Mayor: Umm... okay... see you when you get here.. Poor little guy, he was just as shocked as I was.
At 10:23 that morning, I was on the road yet again, to a place that I can run to when all hell breaks lose. I cried the entire way. Some people started returning my calls with potential job leads. And thankfully enough, Lauren called me back. A gal that can get just as riled up as I do, but also knows when I need tough love. This was a time for that. Me: L! I'm fucked! Fucked! I'm going to have to either live in a homeless shelter or move to dad's house and work at the potato salad factory again!! L: Calm down. Me: I can't believe I'm here! I can't believe it! I don't even know what to do! I have no other income to fall back on but MY OWN! L: You need to take a breath.. Me: Ha! Take a breath! I'm going to have to make potato salad and coleslaw for the rest of my damn life! L: Radke. Radke... (I'm still rambling over her..) RADKE!! SHUT UP A MINUTE! You are going to be just fine. This has happened to people in the past and they have survived. That's what unemployment is for. You're going to get snatched up in no time... She went on her little pep talk for awhile...and even though I was certain she was just saying this because she was my friend, it did make me feel better.
I went to dad's that afternoon. It felt so safe there. As it did when mom had died. Little Einstein was there yet again to try to lift my spirits. He would get so upset when I was crying so hard he would jump off my lap and bark at me to shut my pie hole. The Mayor was a great listener, and good at calming me down a bit.. but I knew this would also stress him out, and made me feel guilty for dumping my issues on him. In never experiencing this before, I did what anyone does in 2013. Got on social media. I had to announce I was jobless (mortifying) and then take any and all job leads I would have maybe not known about otherwise. I've always said it's not what you know, but who you know..sweet Jesus let that be the case again. After posting on facebook, twitter, and linked in... my head hurt so badly I had to lay down. I fell into a restless sleep, but woke up 2 hours later...and my phone had not been resting.
Talk about being overwhelmed by support. I had so many facebook messages, posts, suggestions, that I honestly didn't know where to start. I had no idea my friends knew so many people and had connections to recruiting firms. I am writing this long winded post, to thank you. Thank you to every single person that reached out to me. I followed up on all of the job leads you put out there, and there were alot. I sent my resume to my friends that are recruiters, I got interviews through my friends, friends spouses, friends of friends... I can't begin to tell you what it meant to check those social media realms the first few days and have so much to follow up on. On top of that, if people weren't suggesting job opportunities, they were personally messaging me to meet up for a drink, or dinner, or invited me over for a meal. Or stopping by to just talk and laugh. There were people I hadn't talked to since high school, just writing me a note to say they were praying and thinking about me, and knowing that I was going to find something even better, and work for a company that deserved my time and talent. I hadn't seen some of these people in YEARS. The love I have felt over the last six weeks has been eye opening. You really don't realize how many people's lives you touch in a life time. Believe me when I say, you have all touched mine, and have made me who I am today, and who I am still becoming.
It was hard to get out of bed every morning and look for work every single day. If I hadn't had you, and the support you all gave me, I am quite sure I wouldn't have been able to land a new job in just 5 weeks. :) Thank you doesn't cover it, I know. But I'm sending you all my love. Here's to a new job, that I will hopefully love just as much, and to a school that has no idea about the whilwind of Megan E. Radke that is about to hit it. ;)
August 8, 2013 started out like any other. I found a cute outfit to wear to work, I was having a splendid hair day, was running a smidge late after getting my morning muffin and coffee at Holiday, but into work I went with a smile on my face. The following week would mark my four month anniversary at my new job, as well as switch into Academic Advising. Which I was LOVING. The challenges I saw every day were so different from that in Admissions. Parts of my brain were getting used that hadn't seen the light of day since college. My coworkers were amazing and getting used to my dark sense of humor and twisted personality. I had finally found it: My forever, big girl job.
Earlier that week, an email had been sent out from the campus president. We were going to be having a meeting on August 8th about 'changes' to the university. This sent EVERYONE into pure panic mode. "What's going on?!" "Changes??! What Changes??" "Are we downsizing?! Are people getting laid off??!" Now, for whatever reason, perhaps because for the first time in a long time I was not worried about losing my job, I suddenly became a Positive Pollyanna: "Okay guys, settle down! If there was a lay off coming, we would know about it before a MASSIVE meeting on Thursday... WE ARE FINE. Chill out." I went on about my business for the following two days.
I greet everyone as I walk into the office that morning at 9:32, only two minutes late, not shabby... poke my head into my Assistant Director's office.... Hmmm... lil' lady must be grabbing coffee this morning, not at her desk. I get to my office, put my purse away, flip my computer on, take one bite of my muffin, and my phone rings: It's the Presiden'ts office... Shit... What did I do?? Is a student already threatening a law suit on some bad advice they think they got from me?? One ring, two rings... Effffff... "This is Megan!" (in a more shrill, perky voice than I intended.) It's the director of Student Services on the phone, the person in charge of my entire office, why is she calling me from the president's office? "Morning Megan, could you join us down in President's office please?" Me, being the ever agreeable employee: "Absolutely!" I knew in that very moment, either I really screwed something up with a student, (which after thinking on that short walk to his office, I knew wasn't the case..) or I was getting fired. As I approached his door I saw him, my boss, and the HR lady. Yup, I was getting canned. I walked in with what I can only imagine was a bizaare smile on my face, said good morning, shut the door, and took a seat.
What would happen in the next 8 minutes, would change my life and how I look at the world every day. The president, a man who looks like a tree hugger, and wears suits a size or two too big for him, started what was a clearly rehearsed speech: "Megan, it's a sad day for (insert school name here), as you know numbers have been down, today, nationwide, we are letting go of many, many wonderful employees. This has NOTHING to do with performance, if you should so choose, in the future you will be able to work at this school, or our affiliates again." The entire time since I sat down I couldn't look at anyone. I just felt my skin getting tingly, looking out the massive windows in the president's large corner office... onto what I realized was a gloomy day. It was clouding over, wonder if it was going to rain? I thought to myself... I could hear the president still going on about how loved I was in such a short period of time there, blah blah blah... HOLY FUCK, I'm getting laid off. Wait... I can talk myself out of ANYTHING! I will just use my powers of persuasion, and they will give me another chance... Who am I kidding? They don't have the choice of keeping me, this came from the top, and I can't talk my way out of this. What am I going to do? How will I pay for my car? How will I pay for rent? My school loan? Am I going to have to move back to Hollandale?? I LOVE THIS JOB!! ...... I LOVE living in the Twin Cities!! SHIT!!!!
"Megan?? Megan? Are you alright?" Me: "Huh? Yeah, I'm alright, well as alright as I can be for getting laid off I guess." The HR lady started into her speech now. Going on about my severence package (which was decent, considering I'd only been there 4 months) The HR gal asked if I lived at the address they had on file for me, as they were going to need to know where to send any documents. My response: "Well it's where I live currently, that is until I can't pay my rent in a couple months and I move into a homeless shelter." I feel like she may not have been ready for that response, and I felt bad as soon as I said it. I knew she was just carrying out her job, she didn't need me to be a bitch about it. Surprisingly I didn't cry while I was in the office. The only question I asked was: Did you know this was going to happen when you hired me FOUR months ago? President: Abolutely not! When we had the positions to fill we WANTED to fill them, as we were anticipating growth... I left it at that... Later I would come to realize the lay off was so massive, that there was no way they didn't know of it four months prior. They were wishing and hoping for growth, and if it happened they could keep my position, if it wouldn't they would lay me off. They played Russian Roulette with my professional career... and I lost.
It was while my director walked me back to my office that the tears started...and wouldn't stop for a solid 24 hours. On that short walk back to my office it was like my director had a word quota she needed to hit. "I feel so bad, I'm so sorry, I didn't sleep last night...I feel like I barely got to know you." (Duh, I was here for four months.) I wasn't hearing her. I got to my desk and had to sit down a minute. I felt light headed and thought for sure I was going to pass out. It was also then she told me that my Assistant Director, who had become a good friend in a short time, was let go as well. Then the sobbing really started. She told me they would just ship everything in my office to me... but I didn't want them touching pictures of me, my family, my friends, my friend's kids... my hot priest calendar. I demanded a box. So I could at least take the important stuff. I just threw stuff in a massive box, walked to my director's office, handed her my key, badge, company credit card, and turned to leave. Then to make matters worse, she had to ride down in the elevator with me and walk me out the door. Like I was some kind of damn criminal. Like it was my fault I was being let go. I wasn't allowed to say good bye to anyone, for fear of starting a panic with the people that weren't getting shit canned. As I left the building the rain started. Perfect. I got to my car, unlocked it, sobbing the entire time... started my car, and looked at the clock. It was 10:01. In less than half an hour my world had been turned upside down.
I didn't know what to do, but I knew I didn't want to go home. Who would be around now?? It's a work day, all of my friends have jobs! Lauren! I thought to myself, she works from home... shit, she's in Des Moines for work this week... I called a few others, and left rambling, non coherent messages.. Which I've since apologized for. There was a phone call I hadn't made though... UGH, I needed to call The Mayor. But first I thought I would try to go home... I walked into my apartment, looked around, and cried so hard I thought the veins in my forehead were going to burst. "What do you pack when you live in a homeless shelter??" I somehow made some phone calls to friends that I knew had mentioned at one point or another their company was hiring, left some messages, and then cried some more.. I threw a few things in a bag, and then faced the inevitable. I called dad. Me: (through tears, snot and voice that wasn't my own.) So, my position was eliminated in a company restructuring and I don't have a job. The Mayor: Wait, what? Me: I can't be at my apartment and all of my friends have jobs and I don't.. I'm coming to Hollandale. The Mayor: Umm... okay... see you when you get here.. Poor little guy, he was just as shocked as I was.
At 10:23 that morning, I was on the road yet again, to a place that I can run to when all hell breaks lose. I cried the entire way. Some people started returning my calls with potential job leads. And thankfully enough, Lauren called me back. A gal that can get just as riled up as I do, but also knows when I need tough love. This was a time for that. Me: L! I'm fucked! Fucked! I'm going to have to either live in a homeless shelter or move to dad's house and work at the potato salad factory again!! L: Calm down. Me: I can't believe I'm here! I can't believe it! I don't even know what to do! I have no other income to fall back on but MY OWN! L: You need to take a breath.. Me: Ha! Take a breath! I'm going to have to make potato salad and coleslaw for the rest of my damn life! L: Radke. Radke... (I'm still rambling over her..) RADKE!! SHUT UP A MINUTE! You are going to be just fine. This has happened to people in the past and they have survived. That's what unemployment is for. You're going to get snatched up in no time... She went on her little pep talk for awhile...and even though I was certain she was just saying this because she was my friend, it did make me feel better.
I went to dad's that afternoon. It felt so safe there. As it did when mom had died. Little Einstein was there yet again to try to lift my spirits. He would get so upset when I was crying so hard he would jump off my lap and bark at me to shut my pie hole. The Mayor was a great listener, and good at calming me down a bit.. but I knew this would also stress him out, and made me feel guilty for dumping my issues on him. In never experiencing this before, I did what anyone does in 2013. Got on social media. I had to announce I was jobless (mortifying) and then take any and all job leads I would have maybe not known about otherwise. I've always said it's not what you know, but who you know..sweet Jesus let that be the case again. After posting on facebook, twitter, and linked in... my head hurt so badly I had to lay down. I fell into a restless sleep, but woke up 2 hours later...and my phone had not been resting.
Talk about being overwhelmed by support. I had so many facebook messages, posts, suggestions, that I honestly didn't know where to start. I had no idea my friends knew so many people and had connections to recruiting firms. I am writing this long winded post, to thank you. Thank you to every single person that reached out to me. I followed up on all of the job leads you put out there, and there were alot. I sent my resume to my friends that are recruiters, I got interviews through my friends, friends spouses, friends of friends... I can't begin to tell you what it meant to check those social media realms the first few days and have so much to follow up on. On top of that, if people weren't suggesting job opportunities, they were personally messaging me to meet up for a drink, or dinner, or invited me over for a meal. Or stopping by to just talk and laugh. There were people I hadn't talked to since high school, just writing me a note to say they were praying and thinking about me, and knowing that I was going to find something even better, and work for a company that deserved my time and talent. I hadn't seen some of these people in YEARS. The love I have felt over the last six weeks has been eye opening. You really don't realize how many people's lives you touch in a life time. Believe me when I say, you have all touched mine, and have made me who I am today, and who I am still becoming.
It was hard to get out of bed every morning and look for work every single day. If I hadn't had you, and the support you all gave me, I am quite sure I wouldn't have been able to land a new job in just 5 weeks. :) Thank you doesn't cover it, I know. But I'm sending you all my love. Here's to a new job, that I will hopefully love just as much, and to a school that has no idea about the whilwind of Megan E. Radke that is about to hit it. ;)
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
The time I went to visit a psychic.
Wow... So, longest hiatus ever from the blogging. I kept saying I need to write again..and kept putting it off. Perhaps it's the new Pope inspiring me... though, I highly doubt, he would be in favor of a blog about the time I went to visit the Psychic. Nonetheless, here we go:
For as long as I can remember, I believed in ghosts, paranormal activities, psychics, poltergeists, UFO's, Area 51... if there was a conspiracy theory I was reading about it as a kid. I believe I even did a report on crop circles one time. (Hard to believe I was a nerd in my younger years huh?)
My Grandmother passed away when I was 16. She was my mom's mom. She, in many ways, was another mother to me in my formative years. There was a family rift, and I was the only grand child she had communication with. To say she spoiled me... UNDERSTATEMENT. This was the first encounter with death I had ever had. I didn't know such sadness could even exist. I couldn't get out of bed, my mother, who I had never seen cry, was crying at the drop of a hat... I didn't think I could live in a world where my Grandmother wasn't going to call every, single, night. (Yes, she called EVERY night...and there were times we would roll our eyes... but for the first 3-5 months after she died every time the phone rang at night I ran to it thinking it would be her, or say out loud without thinking, "Oh man! Must be Grandma!" Even though it wasn't.) When she died I started looking for signs that she had passed on.. like they do in the movies and on paranormal specials. NOTHING. I was devastated. I wanted her to appear to me, or move something, or show me she was there! Nothing. So, I went on, as we all do when someone dies. Time does heal things, and slowly we start the new normal. I went to my high school proms, graduation from high school, college, college graduation, start of my career after college... of course thinking about her occasionally, hoping I had made her proud. Until one night a few years after college I was watching the local southern Minnesota news. A story came on about a local psychic, this cute old woman, who does readings for people. Maybe SHE could tell me that Grandma is okay, and looking after me! At the end they gave out her number to call. I jotted it down and forgot about it for a few months. Discovered it again, and thought, what the heck! Gave her a call, and she couldn't fit me in for like 3 weeks! So she gave me her address and for $25 I would get a 30 minute reading. (Seemed like a steal.) (Oh, and she worked on a cash only basis.)
So the night of the reading, I was so excited, I had to drive from Winona to Rochester, actually it was in the country where she was located. As I pulled up to this old farm house, I realized I had told no one where I was going, and the place suddenly looked like the house from Psycho. Clearly, I was probably going to be murdered in the middle of nowhere. What the hell, as long as the reading happens, and then she kills me, I'll be happy. So up the stairs I went to the door. Knocked on it, and out stepped, the most adorable old woman, with cute white hair, in a floral dress, she escorted me in, and walked me past her husband with his TV tray of a microwave dinner, and took me to a room that kind of seemed like a stage one hoarder may be occupying it... There were two chairs set up facing each other. She explained we had 30 minutes, and we would just see what happens. She said the more open I was to the experience, the more people would 'come through'. I didn't care, I only needed one woman: my grandmother.
She starts the session by slowly shutting her eyes and being quiet for a moment.. then said: "Oh my, my, my... Your energy... Well.. I haven't seen an energy like this in years! You... you actually have a glow, an orange glow to your energy, so much energy and life to you.." No big surprise there I thought, lord knows I'm loud and obnoxious, my energy will probably knock her off her chair. Then she says, "Wow, now this is interesting..."
Me: What?!
Cute old lady: Your soul waited a LONG time to find you.
Me: Huh?
Cute old lady: Your past life... It... It wasn't a pleasant one..
(This is when I nearly started to tune her out because I don't know how I feel about all that past life mumbo jumbo.. but then it got interesting..)
Me: You don't say...
Cute old lady: Yes, I'm seeing, kings and queens, and castles..
Me: (cutting her off) I was a princess?!!!!!
Cute old lady: NO... Oh my, no, the opposite, you were a slave. You had a TERRIBLE life. You would have never been able to speak, only when spoken to, worked hard, and many, many other un-pleasantries.
Me: Well that's a bit of a downer..
Cute old lady: So when you died, your soul never wanted to live that kind of life again. It waited, and waited, for a time when it would need no restriction whatsoever. It wanted to be able to be free, and speak it's mind, and live a life it was denied before. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I assume you love to talk, love to share opinions, and you probably don't care who you offend when you say these things? My guess is you also have a taste for nice things, you want nice clothes, nice cars, nice jewelry, you want to present yourself well...
Me: Holy Shit... .Yes I'm loud, and yes I have champagne taste on a beer budget...
Finally after that, she gets into the reading itself. She paused after that and said, there is a woman here that is very close to you. I suggested it was my grandmother. She then tries to confirm that. She said she never knows what will be shown to her so she just starts saying what she is seeing, and she was seeing sweets. Like candies and chocolates. Which made sense, my grandmother had a very big sweet tooth. She said there was a man with grandma, and while he doesn't say anything, she knows he's there with her, like it was her husband. I explained I never knew my grandfather, as he had passed away... so perhaps that's why he has nothing to say... She said, Grandma liked that I went to a Catholic college and now work for one. That made her very proud. (my grandmother was a devout Catholic) The Psychic/Medium didn't know where I worked or what I did.. so pretty much she had me from that point on. Then she said...Your grandmother says, she's glad you 're wearing shoes. Well now what the hell?? Of course I'm wearing shoes. I couldn't put that together for the life of me. She mentioned a few other things, and I knew without a doubt it was my grandmother. She said she visits me at night, and sits by my bed, and that whenever I smell lilacs, I'm supposed to know it's her. I got a little emotional, but thought it was great. The night was successful, I know my grandma is well, and she is proud of the woman I had become!... Then grandpa showed up. My dad's dad.
"Oh my, there's another presence that wants to make himself known." Well now who could that be?? I was confused for a moment. She pointed behind her shoulder, indicating he was with us in the crowded room of the psychics personal belongings, my big energy, Grandma, and now Grandpa?! WTF. I was baffled, I was never overly close with my dad's parents. They were very big followers of the rule: Children should be seen and not heard. I was big follower of my rule: If I can talk, I will and EVERYONE should listen. So you can see we definitely didn't have much in common, and my outgoing personality always sent them for a loop. When your young you don't understand where your grandparents come from or what they experienced, and instead of trying to understand why they were the way they were, I just kind of shut them out. And when my family moved away from them, I didn't do anything to go too much out of my way in trying to stay close. So in my early 20's while visiting a psychic, I was annoyed that ol' Roland Radke showed up.
Me: Well I don't know who would really want to say... Oh... Is it my grandfather?
COL: He is showing me horses..
Me: Yeah, I don't know what that means...
COL: Did you just book a trip?
Me: Uhhh.. yeah two days ago I booked a cruise with a coworker...
COL: He thinks you're too frivolous with your money.
Me: Ha! I'm sure he does, considering he never spent a dime on anything fun.
COL: Whoa, wow... okay, slow down.. (she's talking to my grandfather when she said that.) He says you have a smart mouth, and would do good to save money, and listen more.
Me: Yeah, yeah...
COL: He is quite short with you...
Me: I'm sure he is. It's not like he knows me.
COL: Wow, okay... He says, of course he doesn't know you, you didn't give him the time to get to know him or... he's showing me a woman... but she has not passed on?
Me: Probably showing you my dad's mom... she's still alive... I'm sorry, grandpa, you're right.. I didn't know you...or Grandma.
Then he must have gone somewhere. But man, I sure didn't need a dead grandfather pissed at me! I did a quick prayer on the way home and apologized for not knowing him more...and the following Christmas made sure to stop by my Grandmother's apartment with some cookies...
In the days following, I thought about what had been discussed, I know there's more than the above mentioned, but it all started to flow together, and that was the big jist of the 30 minutes. But I finally 'fessed up to my parents that I went. I told them about it. First I told mom about Grandma and how she was totally okay, and everything she had said that made me believe it was Grandma...and then I added, "But the cute old lady psychic, said something that I never understood... she said that Grandma said, she was glad I was wearing shoes now..." My mom stopped for a minute, looked at me, eyes teared up a little and she said, "When you were little you would never keep shoes on your feet, so I just stopped trying to make you wear shoes, every time Grandma would visit she would say, 'Why doesn't she have shoes on?! Her feet are going to be formed weird if she never wears shoes!'" Too weird. I tell dad about how Grandpa was pissed at me from beyond the grave, and then that she said something about how Grandpa kept showing her horses... And dad said he totally understood why, apparently from the time my Grandfather was a child until around the time I was born, he always had horses, kept them, treated them exceptionally well, he just loved to ride.
Between what I had heard and understood in the session, to what my parents filled in for me later, I was sold. This cute old woman... was legit.
I thought for awhile about going back to her after my mom died. I of course looked for my mom in every day life. I thought I would see glimmers of her here or there. But again, nothing really. I was destroyed. Until a day in a used book store in Winona. It was three months after my mom's death, and I was really missing her. I was bringing in some of my mom's old Elvis collectible books for money towards other used books I would purchase later. As I waited to find out what the book lady would give me I looked around the store. I ended up in the self help section (fitting) which somehow lead me to the books on the paranormal and psychics... a pretty little blue book caught my eye. I plucked it from the shelf, and looked at it, the title: A Bridge To the Afterlife. I look, at the back cover, an author from Minnesota, that does some psychic readings... Flip over the book, a sticker that says it's a signed copy from the author. Why would someone sell a book to a used bookstore that is signed by the author? Even if it's not a well known author... I flip through to see the autograph and it says: Megan, your loved ones are always with you. Then the authors name and signature
I think I may have shit my pants in the store. I went up to the counter, book in hand, and said I'll be taking that book. Apparently, that day, mom knew I really needed to know she was okay and with me.
For as long as I can remember, I believed in ghosts, paranormal activities, psychics, poltergeists, UFO's, Area 51... if there was a conspiracy theory I was reading about it as a kid. I believe I even did a report on crop circles one time. (Hard to believe I was a nerd in my younger years huh?)
My Grandmother passed away when I was 16. She was my mom's mom. She, in many ways, was another mother to me in my formative years. There was a family rift, and I was the only grand child she had communication with. To say she spoiled me... UNDERSTATEMENT. This was the first encounter with death I had ever had. I didn't know such sadness could even exist. I couldn't get out of bed, my mother, who I had never seen cry, was crying at the drop of a hat... I didn't think I could live in a world where my Grandmother wasn't going to call every, single, night. (Yes, she called EVERY night...and there were times we would roll our eyes... but for the first 3-5 months after she died every time the phone rang at night I ran to it thinking it would be her, or say out loud without thinking, "Oh man! Must be Grandma!" Even though it wasn't.) When she died I started looking for signs that she had passed on.. like they do in the movies and on paranormal specials. NOTHING. I was devastated. I wanted her to appear to me, or move something, or show me she was there! Nothing. So, I went on, as we all do when someone dies. Time does heal things, and slowly we start the new normal. I went to my high school proms, graduation from high school, college, college graduation, start of my career after college... of course thinking about her occasionally, hoping I had made her proud. Until one night a few years after college I was watching the local southern Minnesota news. A story came on about a local psychic, this cute old woman, who does readings for people. Maybe SHE could tell me that Grandma is okay, and looking after me! At the end they gave out her number to call. I jotted it down and forgot about it for a few months. Discovered it again, and thought, what the heck! Gave her a call, and she couldn't fit me in for like 3 weeks! So she gave me her address and for $25 I would get a 30 minute reading. (Seemed like a steal.) (Oh, and she worked on a cash only basis.)
So the night of the reading, I was so excited, I had to drive from Winona to Rochester, actually it was in the country where she was located. As I pulled up to this old farm house, I realized I had told no one where I was going, and the place suddenly looked like the house from Psycho. Clearly, I was probably going to be murdered in the middle of nowhere. What the hell, as long as the reading happens, and then she kills me, I'll be happy. So up the stairs I went to the door. Knocked on it, and out stepped, the most adorable old woman, with cute white hair, in a floral dress, she escorted me in, and walked me past her husband with his TV tray of a microwave dinner, and took me to a room that kind of seemed like a stage one hoarder may be occupying it... There were two chairs set up facing each other. She explained we had 30 minutes, and we would just see what happens. She said the more open I was to the experience, the more people would 'come through'. I didn't care, I only needed one woman: my grandmother.
She starts the session by slowly shutting her eyes and being quiet for a moment.. then said: "Oh my, my, my... Your energy... Well.. I haven't seen an energy like this in years! You... you actually have a glow, an orange glow to your energy, so much energy and life to you.." No big surprise there I thought, lord knows I'm loud and obnoxious, my energy will probably knock her off her chair. Then she says, "Wow, now this is interesting..."
Me: What?!
Cute old lady: Your soul waited a LONG time to find you.
Me: Huh?
Cute old lady: Your past life... It... It wasn't a pleasant one..
(This is when I nearly started to tune her out because I don't know how I feel about all that past life mumbo jumbo.. but then it got interesting..)
Me: You don't say...
Cute old lady: Yes, I'm seeing, kings and queens, and castles..
Me: (cutting her off) I was a princess?!!!!!
Cute old lady: NO... Oh my, no, the opposite, you were a slave. You had a TERRIBLE life. You would have never been able to speak, only when spoken to, worked hard, and many, many other un-pleasantries.
Me: Well that's a bit of a downer..
Cute old lady: So when you died, your soul never wanted to live that kind of life again. It waited, and waited, for a time when it would need no restriction whatsoever. It wanted to be able to be free, and speak it's mind, and live a life it was denied before. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I assume you love to talk, love to share opinions, and you probably don't care who you offend when you say these things? My guess is you also have a taste for nice things, you want nice clothes, nice cars, nice jewelry, you want to present yourself well...
Me: Holy Shit... .Yes I'm loud, and yes I have champagne taste on a beer budget...
Finally after that, she gets into the reading itself. She paused after that and said, there is a woman here that is very close to you. I suggested it was my grandmother. She then tries to confirm that. She said she never knows what will be shown to her so she just starts saying what she is seeing, and she was seeing sweets. Like candies and chocolates. Which made sense, my grandmother had a very big sweet tooth. She said there was a man with grandma, and while he doesn't say anything, she knows he's there with her, like it was her husband. I explained I never knew my grandfather, as he had passed away... so perhaps that's why he has nothing to say... She said, Grandma liked that I went to a Catholic college and now work for one. That made her very proud. (my grandmother was a devout Catholic) The Psychic/Medium didn't know where I worked or what I did.. so pretty much she had me from that point on. Then she said...Your grandmother says, she's glad you 're wearing shoes. Well now what the hell?? Of course I'm wearing shoes. I couldn't put that together for the life of me. She mentioned a few other things, and I knew without a doubt it was my grandmother. She said she visits me at night, and sits by my bed, and that whenever I smell lilacs, I'm supposed to know it's her. I got a little emotional, but thought it was great. The night was successful, I know my grandma is well, and she is proud of the woman I had become!... Then grandpa showed up. My dad's dad.
"Oh my, there's another presence that wants to make himself known." Well now who could that be?? I was confused for a moment. She pointed behind her shoulder, indicating he was with us in the crowded room of the psychics personal belongings, my big energy, Grandma, and now Grandpa?! WTF. I was baffled, I was never overly close with my dad's parents. They were very big followers of the rule: Children should be seen and not heard. I was big follower of my rule: If I can talk, I will and EVERYONE should listen. So you can see we definitely didn't have much in common, and my outgoing personality always sent them for a loop. When your young you don't understand where your grandparents come from or what they experienced, and instead of trying to understand why they were the way they were, I just kind of shut them out. And when my family moved away from them, I didn't do anything to go too much out of my way in trying to stay close. So in my early 20's while visiting a psychic, I was annoyed that ol' Roland Radke showed up.
Me: Well I don't know who would really want to say... Oh... Is it my grandfather?
COL: He is showing me horses..
Me: Yeah, I don't know what that means...
COL: Did you just book a trip?
Me: Uhhh.. yeah two days ago I booked a cruise with a coworker...
COL: He thinks you're too frivolous with your money.
Me: Ha! I'm sure he does, considering he never spent a dime on anything fun.
COL: Whoa, wow... okay, slow down.. (she's talking to my grandfather when she said that.) He says you have a smart mouth, and would do good to save money, and listen more.
Me: Yeah, yeah...
COL: He is quite short with you...
Me: I'm sure he is. It's not like he knows me.
COL: Wow, okay... He says, of course he doesn't know you, you didn't give him the time to get to know him or... he's showing me a woman... but she has not passed on?
Me: Probably showing you my dad's mom... she's still alive... I'm sorry, grandpa, you're right.. I didn't know you...or Grandma.
Then he must have gone somewhere. But man, I sure didn't need a dead grandfather pissed at me! I did a quick prayer on the way home and apologized for not knowing him more...and the following Christmas made sure to stop by my Grandmother's apartment with some cookies...
In the days following, I thought about what had been discussed, I know there's more than the above mentioned, but it all started to flow together, and that was the big jist of the 30 minutes. But I finally 'fessed up to my parents that I went. I told them about it. First I told mom about Grandma and how she was totally okay, and everything she had said that made me believe it was Grandma...and then I added, "But the cute old lady psychic, said something that I never understood... she said that Grandma said, she was glad I was wearing shoes now..." My mom stopped for a minute, looked at me, eyes teared up a little and she said, "When you were little you would never keep shoes on your feet, so I just stopped trying to make you wear shoes, every time Grandma would visit she would say, 'Why doesn't she have shoes on?! Her feet are going to be formed weird if she never wears shoes!'" Too weird. I tell dad about how Grandpa was pissed at me from beyond the grave, and then that she said something about how Grandpa kept showing her horses... And dad said he totally understood why, apparently from the time my Grandfather was a child until around the time I was born, he always had horses, kept them, treated them exceptionally well, he just loved to ride.
Between what I had heard and understood in the session, to what my parents filled in for me later, I was sold. This cute old woman... was legit.
I thought for awhile about going back to her after my mom died. I of course looked for my mom in every day life. I thought I would see glimmers of her here or there. But again, nothing really. I was destroyed. Until a day in a used book store in Winona. It was three months after my mom's death, and I was really missing her. I was bringing in some of my mom's old Elvis collectible books for money towards other used books I would purchase later. As I waited to find out what the book lady would give me I looked around the store. I ended up in the self help section (fitting) which somehow lead me to the books on the paranormal and psychics... a pretty little blue book caught my eye. I plucked it from the shelf, and looked at it, the title: A Bridge To the Afterlife. I look, at the back cover, an author from Minnesota, that does some psychic readings... Flip over the book, a sticker that says it's a signed copy from the author. Why would someone sell a book to a used bookstore that is signed by the author? Even if it's not a well known author... I flip through to see the autograph and it says: Megan, your loved ones are always with you. Then the authors name and signature
I think I may have shit my pants in the store. I went up to the counter, book in hand, and said I'll be taking that book. Apparently, that day, mom knew I really needed to know she was okay and with me.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Merry Christmas!! The shitter is full!
As it is the holiday season, like all of us, I have been reflecting back to Radke family Christmas past and having some very fond memories. The last few years, with the loss of mom, the holiday (or holidays in general) kind of suck. But dad and I try to make the most of it. Mostly by eating food, and spoiling each other with gifts. It's kind of like if we buy each other gifts, then with all the shimmer of wrapping paper and bows we'll get back a little glimpse of when the three of us had the holiday together. Which is totally stupid. But I think it helps both of us during the holiday season to be out shopping with the general public and see smiles on everyone's faces... and even I, dislik-er of children, can't help but smile when I see their faces light up when looking and pointing at Santa... Until one of them craps their pants and starts crying...Anyway, I digress. This year while I know I'll miss mom like I always do, I am going to really focus on being present in the NOW. It's hard in general when you grow up to still hold onto the magic of Christmas. The thought of catching the fat man in the red suit on Christmas Eve, or being in the Christmas play at Church, (where every year you want to be the Virgin Mary, and without fail you always end up being one of the wise men because they are low on men and you have short hair...Sorry, again with the ramblings..) Or holiday parties at school, no longer hold the interest they once did. But to be present in the NOW, I need to reflect on Christmases past, and mostly, share with you a few stories of why my little family growing up, was much more like the Griswold's than any picturesque Hallmark card.
My parents made the decision that the three of us would stay put on all major holidays after one Thanksgiving gone terribly wrong. My parents living on the small farm by Rochester had turkey feasts to eat there, and also one to enjoy in the Twin Cities. That particular Turkey Day, was a raging blizzard. But they had a one year old that everyone wanted to see (Moi!) and they had to make sure to get to all the stops. After a day of two shortened meals, a drive that should have lasted an hour and a half or two hours max, turned into an 8+ hour adventure on unplowed roads, with a crying baby in the back seat., well they were nearly ready for the asylum. Once they were in the drive way, they looked at each other and vowed they would never spend another holiday on the road, no matter what the weather is, ever again. So began the Radke family tradition of just the three of us for every holiday.
Memory #1: My dad, for whatever reason, is the LOVER of all things Christmas. To my mother's dismay, I also took on his excitement for the holiday. So now, her low key holiday usually turned into some kind of a circus because the two of us would want to over decorate, gift, give, eat, sing, play family games, etc. She always acted like she was put out by it, but I knew it gave her great pleasure to see dad so excited. My dad isn't a man who is overly excited about anything. But for whatever reason, the lil' guy LOVES Christmas. One dreaded task (it wasn't for me because I just got to do the fun part) was the choosing of the family Christmas tree. I of course, wanted the tree immediately following Thanksgiving, not my mother. She was frugal, and wanted to usually wait until the week before Christmas to get the tree as they were 75% off. This also usually meant, the pick of trees was questionable, at best. One particular Christmas, we go pick out a tree, practically missing all needles on one side, tie it to the roof of car, dad comes home, cuts the tree to put it in the stand, and it's crooked. Severely. Curse words and expletives are exchanged between my parents, dad hauls the tree back out, cuts the trunk again, gets it back in, it's a little better..and mom is sick of it and says she'll just prop some magazines under it to even it out. Now, this is when it gets ugly. Dad, trying to be helpful says he'll get the water for the tree, and put some sugar in it, because the sugar is good for the real tree and will aid in the tree taking more water... (Imagine innocent little me, sorting through lights and ornaments, minding my own business) So he makes a real nice water/sugar mixture...more of a simple syrup than anything. Pours it in the stand, he and mom leave the room, I'm still rooting around in the bags trying to find the best ornaments...when I notice a small river slowly flowing out of the tree stand onto the carpet. Oh shit.. This is going to mean another blow up and it's not going to be very Christmasy!! I think for a minute if there's anything I can do without telling them...oh boy..a puddle is forming... "Mom? Dad?? Ummm... I think the tree stand is leaking!" Mom: "Are you shitting me?!" Dad: "Huh? Well now, how did that happen?" Me: "So should I just assume we're not decorating tonight?" Both: "Shut up Megan!" Me: "Alrighty, Merry Christmas...grumble grumble.."
Memory #2: We all have our most favorite gift we ever got. I remember mine very well: The original Nintendo. I wanted to play Mario Brothers and Duck Hunt, and I couldn't wait for it to be mine!! I didn't know if I would get it, but I wanted it more than anything in the entire world. I was in 2nd grade. There was one box that didn't fit under the tree that year... Now mind you, all presents from Santa were wrapped in special paper that no other gifts were wrapped in. So it was totally legit that it came from the North Pole. It was a HUGE box and it was propped up on the couch. I could barely sit still while going through my stocking. (Which mind you, is Radke Christmas etiquette. We get up, I get to open my stocking, then my parents dragged their feet and drank coffee and had caramel rolls, while I was peeing my pants planning my best plan of attack with the presents under the tree and which ones I was going to delve into first. This year, hands down it was the big box with Santa's paper. Finally the time came!! I got to open a present..and I went for it. The biggest box ever! And in it?! My Nintendo!! It was nearly a perfect Christmas until I noticed the Shopko price tag on it... "Mom, Dad?? Why is their a price tag from Shopko on here?" My parents panicked, but ever the geniuses, say: "Oh well, uhhh, you see, Santa was running a little behind, so we had to pick this up for him, and he just wrapped it when he got here!" Me: (In the glow of my new Nintendo and glow of Christmas morning) "Oh okay!" Got a few more Christmases with Santa thanks to that ol' cover up. Good work parentals :).
Memory #3: It is the first Christmas I am in college. I had just finished finals and all I want to do is sleep. I am having, what I think is probably some of the most sound sleep of my entire life, when in my dream I hear a man singing OBNOXIOUS Christmas carols. Slowly I start to realize...I'm not dreaming...wait..No! I'm waking up! No, the sleep is so good! I open one crusty eye to see my father standing at the edge of my bed singing: "Joy to the World!! The Savior Reigns!!..." Me: "What in the hell dad?! I am sleeping, I'm exhausted from finals!" (Because when you're 19, finals are the end of the world.) Dad: "Nope Star Shine time to get up! I need help getting gifts for your mother and you're the only one that can help me! Be ready for breakfast up town in 20 minutes and then we're headed to the mall!" He walked back down the stairs as I muttered, "What an annoying little Christmas Elf." Truth was, I loved it, and we had a really fun day together.
Memory #4: The early morning wake up. When you're little, it's hell to have to wait to wake your parents up on Christmas morning. I would do about 3 trips downstairs on Christmas Eve to pee, in the hopes of catching Santa or one of his elves dropping off the loot. No such luck. Finally, I saw my digital clock hit 5:54 and I couldn't wait any longer... I would fly down the stairs to my parents bedroom and stand there like a freaky child just seeing if they would wake up on their own accord. After giving it a solid 14 seconds... I would poke mom. (Why I went for her, I have no idea because she would always say to go back to sleep...) Me: "Hi Mom!" Mom: "Hi daughter." Me: "Guess what?! It's Christmas morning..and I think Santa came!" Mom: "Oh you think? Good news Meg, those presents aren't going any where, why don't you crawl in bed with us for a minute..." Me: (Sensing I could be losing my ground, head over to dad's side of the bed.) "Dad! Guess what?! It's Christmas!" Dad: Just gurgles and says something I can't quite understand...so I just poke him a little.. Seeing neither of them have my excitement I do what makes the most sense, I will not be ignored! I flipped on the light switch in their bedroom and shouted: "GET UP IT'S CHRISTMAS!!" I then scurried out to the living room, switched on every light, and started shouting about all the presents I would see. I would then here two pairs of feet hit the floor and mom say, "Well the day is young, we'll be able to nap later...I'll put the coffee on.."
Memory #5: My last favorite memory of holiday's past came a few years ago. I would say Einstein had been with us for about two years at that point. I woke up, stumbled downstairs around 10am (a smidge different from the early Megan Radke Christmases...) to the smell of coffee and something yummy in the oven...and then I hear a high pitched discussion happening with my dad and Einstein. I turn the corner to the living room, and wipe the sleep from my eyes to see my dad holding Einie and looking into his eyes, and Einie just looking back with his little three dot face of his. Dad is saying: "How's my buddy on this Christmas morning?! You know you're my buddy?! I love you! We love you so much! I don't know what we EVER did before you came to our house buddy. You make the holidays so special!"... I coughed loudly and said, "Ahh, dad? What about the last 26 years with me? Thought those holidays were kind of special.." Dad: "Yeah, Yeah, well now that you're up, get Einie's stocking for him and help him open it, he doesn't have thumbs you know! You have to help the little guy!" I just shook my head, and smiled. That little fur ball ran that house then, and does to this day.
Enjoy every, twisted minute you have with your family this holiday season. Dad, Einstein and I will be drinking coffee, eating good food, opening gifts, and being thankful that we have one another. Merry Christmas to all of my faithful readers. :)
My parents made the decision that the three of us would stay put on all major holidays after one Thanksgiving gone terribly wrong. My parents living on the small farm by Rochester had turkey feasts to eat there, and also one to enjoy in the Twin Cities. That particular Turkey Day, was a raging blizzard. But they had a one year old that everyone wanted to see (Moi!) and they had to make sure to get to all the stops. After a day of two shortened meals, a drive that should have lasted an hour and a half or two hours max, turned into an 8+ hour adventure on unplowed roads, with a crying baby in the back seat., well they were nearly ready for the asylum. Once they were in the drive way, they looked at each other and vowed they would never spend another holiday on the road, no matter what the weather is, ever again. So began the Radke family tradition of just the three of us for every holiday.
Memory #1: My dad, for whatever reason, is the LOVER of all things Christmas. To my mother's dismay, I also took on his excitement for the holiday. So now, her low key holiday usually turned into some kind of a circus because the two of us would want to over decorate, gift, give, eat, sing, play family games, etc. She always acted like she was put out by it, but I knew it gave her great pleasure to see dad so excited. My dad isn't a man who is overly excited about anything. But for whatever reason, the lil' guy LOVES Christmas. One dreaded task (it wasn't for me because I just got to do the fun part) was the choosing of the family Christmas tree. I of course, wanted the tree immediately following Thanksgiving, not my mother. She was frugal, and wanted to usually wait until the week before Christmas to get the tree as they were 75% off. This also usually meant, the pick of trees was questionable, at best. One particular Christmas, we go pick out a tree, practically missing all needles on one side, tie it to the roof of car, dad comes home, cuts the tree to put it in the stand, and it's crooked. Severely. Curse words and expletives are exchanged between my parents, dad hauls the tree back out, cuts the trunk again, gets it back in, it's a little better..and mom is sick of it and says she'll just prop some magazines under it to even it out. Now, this is when it gets ugly. Dad, trying to be helpful says he'll get the water for the tree, and put some sugar in it, because the sugar is good for the real tree and will aid in the tree taking more water... (Imagine innocent little me, sorting through lights and ornaments, minding my own business) So he makes a real nice water/sugar mixture...more of a simple syrup than anything. Pours it in the stand, he and mom leave the room, I'm still rooting around in the bags trying to find the best ornaments...when I notice a small river slowly flowing out of the tree stand onto the carpet. Oh shit.. This is going to mean another blow up and it's not going to be very Christmasy!! I think for a minute if there's anything I can do without telling them...oh boy..a puddle is forming... "Mom? Dad?? Ummm... I think the tree stand is leaking!" Mom: "Are you shitting me?!" Dad: "Huh? Well now, how did that happen?" Me: "So should I just assume we're not decorating tonight?" Both: "Shut up Megan!" Me: "Alrighty, Merry Christmas...grumble grumble.."
Memory #2: We all have our most favorite gift we ever got. I remember mine very well: The original Nintendo. I wanted to play Mario Brothers and Duck Hunt, and I couldn't wait for it to be mine!! I didn't know if I would get it, but I wanted it more than anything in the entire world. I was in 2nd grade. There was one box that didn't fit under the tree that year... Now mind you, all presents from Santa were wrapped in special paper that no other gifts were wrapped in. So it was totally legit that it came from the North Pole. It was a HUGE box and it was propped up on the couch. I could barely sit still while going through my stocking. (Which mind you, is Radke Christmas etiquette. We get up, I get to open my stocking, then my parents dragged their feet and drank coffee and had caramel rolls, while I was peeing my pants planning my best plan of attack with the presents under the tree and which ones I was going to delve into first. This year, hands down it was the big box with Santa's paper. Finally the time came!! I got to open a present..and I went for it. The biggest box ever! And in it?! My Nintendo!! It was nearly a perfect Christmas until I noticed the Shopko price tag on it... "Mom, Dad?? Why is their a price tag from Shopko on here?" My parents panicked, but ever the geniuses, say: "Oh well, uhhh, you see, Santa was running a little behind, so we had to pick this up for him, and he just wrapped it when he got here!" Me: (In the glow of my new Nintendo and glow of Christmas morning) "Oh okay!" Got a few more Christmases with Santa thanks to that ol' cover up. Good work parentals :).
Memory #3: It is the first Christmas I am in college. I had just finished finals and all I want to do is sleep. I am having, what I think is probably some of the most sound sleep of my entire life, when in my dream I hear a man singing OBNOXIOUS Christmas carols. Slowly I start to realize...I'm not dreaming...wait..No! I'm waking up! No, the sleep is so good! I open one crusty eye to see my father standing at the edge of my bed singing: "Joy to the World!! The Savior Reigns!!..." Me: "What in the hell dad?! I am sleeping, I'm exhausted from finals!" (Because when you're 19, finals are the end of the world.) Dad: "Nope Star Shine time to get up! I need help getting gifts for your mother and you're the only one that can help me! Be ready for breakfast up town in 20 minutes and then we're headed to the mall!" He walked back down the stairs as I muttered, "What an annoying little Christmas Elf." Truth was, I loved it, and we had a really fun day together.
Memory #4: The early morning wake up. When you're little, it's hell to have to wait to wake your parents up on Christmas morning. I would do about 3 trips downstairs on Christmas Eve to pee, in the hopes of catching Santa or one of his elves dropping off the loot. No such luck. Finally, I saw my digital clock hit 5:54 and I couldn't wait any longer... I would fly down the stairs to my parents bedroom and stand there like a freaky child just seeing if they would wake up on their own accord. After giving it a solid 14 seconds... I would poke mom. (Why I went for her, I have no idea because she would always say to go back to sleep...) Me: "Hi Mom!" Mom: "Hi daughter." Me: "Guess what?! It's Christmas morning..and I think Santa came!" Mom: "Oh you think? Good news Meg, those presents aren't going any where, why don't you crawl in bed with us for a minute..." Me: (Sensing I could be losing my ground, head over to dad's side of the bed.) "Dad! Guess what?! It's Christmas!" Dad: Just gurgles and says something I can't quite understand...so I just poke him a little.. Seeing neither of them have my excitement I do what makes the most sense, I will not be ignored! I flipped on the light switch in their bedroom and shouted: "GET UP IT'S CHRISTMAS!!" I then scurried out to the living room, switched on every light, and started shouting about all the presents I would see. I would then here two pairs of feet hit the floor and mom say, "Well the day is young, we'll be able to nap later...I'll put the coffee on.."
Memory #5: My last favorite memory of holiday's past came a few years ago. I would say Einstein had been with us for about two years at that point. I woke up, stumbled downstairs around 10am (a smidge different from the early Megan Radke Christmases...) to the smell of coffee and something yummy in the oven...and then I hear a high pitched discussion happening with my dad and Einstein. I turn the corner to the living room, and wipe the sleep from my eyes to see my dad holding Einie and looking into his eyes, and Einie just looking back with his little three dot face of his. Dad is saying: "How's my buddy on this Christmas morning?! You know you're my buddy?! I love you! We love you so much! I don't know what we EVER did before you came to our house buddy. You make the holidays so special!"... I coughed loudly and said, "Ahh, dad? What about the last 26 years with me? Thought those holidays were kind of special.." Dad: "Yeah, Yeah, well now that you're up, get Einie's stocking for him and help him open it, he doesn't have thumbs you know! You have to help the little guy!" I just shook my head, and smiled. That little fur ball ran that house then, and does to this day.
Enjoy every, twisted minute you have with your family this holiday season. Dad, Einstein and I will be drinking coffee, eating good food, opening gifts, and being thankful that we have one another. Merry Christmas to all of my faithful readers. :)
Monday, September 17, 2012
Online Dating: Is Mr. Right out there?? On the internet??
Many of you have been asking for this particular blog entry for some time. I have been debating if I really want to get into it here. I am not Carrie Bradshaw, with her Sex & The City column, I am not a man hater, who wants to dish on what horrors men have put me through. I am 31, dead sexy, and as single as they get. As you may recall from an earlier blog this year, I had tried online dating for 4 whole days around Valentine's Day. After some sexually explicit messages, and pictures of men's junk, I was off the sight at the end of that week... With some prodding, a lot of liquor, and boredom... I decided to sign back up for the ol' dating website. This was in late March...and this time...I lasted 3 months!! Crazy huh? Now, I nearly lost it again, when all of the men still living with their mothers kept messaging me, but held on this time, just one penis picture, and slowly..some pretty major hotties started coming out of the wood work. Besides...I'm way too social to meet someone online, am I some kind of a social leper that I can't find a man offline?! Meh, what the hell, it will make for some good drinking stories at happy hour.
What is Megan Radke's type of gentleman caller you may ask. Well, up until this point I had been on single dates with all kinds of men. Different back grounds, different jobs, different heights... but I really didn't think I had a type. Until, my type slowly started to emerge. Turns out, I am hit with African American males. Or in some cases, African males... I'm equal opportunity, who am I to deny the masses that started practically beating down my pseudo door?! Here's why I discovered they are truly my type: They're not scared of a strong, independent, HILARIOUS woman, they find my voluptuousness sexy as hell, and when I'm out on the town, they never lack anything to say, their confidence is ridiculously attractive, and they look at me like I'm the only girl that matters. Now are their white men that do that, absolutely. Have I been out with them? Absolutely not. So... from March until late May, as I mentioned I had a MAJOR feeding frenzy on my hands. I was averaging 3 dates a week... and I was starting to get some of the names mixed up...and my poor friends, they coudn't keep it straight... So I had to just start calling them by their professions or something unique about them so my peeps (and me on occasion) could keep it straight. Here are some of the major players that have stood out in my online dating:
*The Metro Transit Bus Driver
*The Parole Officer
*The Mechanic (Who lived with his aunt, but looked like Taye Diggs, so I was willing to look past that)
*The IT guy
*The Accountant
*The Trainer for the Vikings (who happened to be a MAJOR douche)
*Hamline (Don't judge he's legal and got a late start in college, so it's totally okay that he's still working on his undergrad!)
*Manager of a call center
*High School Football Coach
*The Future Dentist
*The Nigerian
Now, there were a few more in between, but those were some of the major ones.
For you gentleman reading this, you may be wondering to yourself, how do you get yourself a sexy lady such as Megan E. Radke? Here are some do's and don'ts:
DON'T:
1.) Come to the date nearly 2 hours late. That will immediately make me irritated, and you will probably not get any Megan Radke behind that night...if you know what I mean ;)
2.) Lick my face. (This actually happened)
3.) Tell me to wait in my car in a Mexican Restuarant's parking lot, only to attempt to feel me up BEFORE a meal. I like to eat. Buy me a burrito, maybe an enchilada, and then you can feel up my sweater puppies. (This is an enjoyable story, ask me for details sometime over drinks, it's a doozie.)
4.) Tell me that you really like getting to know me, and you want to continue seeing me...but would prefer if I could pay a few of your bills every month. (I will laugh at you, and then immediately kick you out of my apartment.)
5.)Tell me your grandma died, and that you're having a break down in the parking lot..only to have me come out to the parking lot and you not be there...liar, liar, pants on fire. I will not reschedule a date with you when you stand me up.
6.) Act interested in me, meet my friends, get to know my life story, and then fall off the face of the earth and make me feel bad for caring about you.
DO:
1.) Be on time, or at least let me know if you're running late.
2.) Wear cologne. Men that smell good are a major bonus.
3.) Offer to get the bill. I never expect it...but when you just let the bill sit there, it makes me feel weird. I am more than okay with going halfsies.
4.) Be honest. I'll never be mad at anyone who tells me the truth.
As you may recall, I mentioned in that Valentine's post, that I was worried I may never be able to have feelings for someone because I had given so much love to that one person so many years ago. While I was far from in love with this particular indivdual, I did see glimmers of being able to care for someone on an intimate level again. I'm hoping to see this person again as he was the best date(s) I went on. He was funny, brilliant, gave me shit, and from what I could tell, not afraid to put me in my place. And let's face it...If I'm going to have any hopes at a successful relationship, they will need to be just a smidge tainted...and be able to tell me off. :) Currently, I'm not sure where I stand with this gentleman caller, for all I know he had his fill of me and is onto other women (Which I'm sure would pale in comparison to me!) but in my heart of hearts, I have to believe he'll call me again. So kids, moral of the story is: Internet dating is not for those lacking intestinal fortitude. BUT if you play your cards right, you'll meet some nice guys, and have plenty of stories for happy hour. :)
What is Megan Radke's type of gentleman caller you may ask. Well, up until this point I had been on single dates with all kinds of men. Different back grounds, different jobs, different heights... but I really didn't think I had a type. Until, my type slowly started to emerge. Turns out, I am hit with African American males. Or in some cases, African males... I'm equal opportunity, who am I to deny the masses that started practically beating down my pseudo door?! Here's why I discovered they are truly my type: They're not scared of a strong, independent, HILARIOUS woman, they find my voluptuousness sexy as hell, and when I'm out on the town, they never lack anything to say, their confidence is ridiculously attractive, and they look at me like I'm the only girl that matters. Now are their white men that do that, absolutely. Have I been out with them? Absolutely not. So... from March until late May, as I mentioned I had a MAJOR feeding frenzy on my hands. I was averaging 3 dates a week... and I was starting to get some of the names mixed up...and my poor friends, they coudn't keep it straight... So I had to just start calling them by their professions or something unique about them so my peeps (and me on occasion) could keep it straight. Here are some of the major players that have stood out in my online dating:
*The Metro Transit Bus Driver
*The Parole Officer
*The Mechanic (Who lived with his aunt, but looked like Taye Diggs, so I was willing to look past that)
*The IT guy
*The Accountant
*The Trainer for the Vikings (who happened to be a MAJOR douche)
*Hamline (Don't judge he's legal and got a late start in college, so it's totally okay that he's still working on his undergrad!)
*Manager of a call center
*High School Football Coach
*The Future Dentist
*The Nigerian
Now, there were a few more in between, but those were some of the major ones.
For you gentleman reading this, you may be wondering to yourself, how do you get yourself a sexy lady such as Megan E. Radke? Here are some do's and don'ts:
DON'T:
1.) Come to the date nearly 2 hours late. That will immediately make me irritated, and you will probably not get any Megan Radke behind that night...if you know what I mean ;)
2.) Lick my face. (This actually happened)
3.) Tell me to wait in my car in a Mexican Restuarant's parking lot, only to attempt to feel me up BEFORE a meal. I like to eat. Buy me a burrito, maybe an enchilada, and then you can feel up my sweater puppies. (This is an enjoyable story, ask me for details sometime over drinks, it's a doozie.)
4.) Tell me that you really like getting to know me, and you want to continue seeing me...but would prefer if I could pay a few of your bills every month. (I will laugh at you, and then immediately kick you out of my apartment.)
5.)Tell me your grandma died, and that you're having a break down in the parking lot..only to have me come out to the parking lot and you not be there...liar, liar, pants on fire. I will not reschedule a date with you when you stand me up.
6.) Act interested in me, meet my friends, get to know my life story, and then fall off the face of the earth and make me feel bad for caring about you.
DO:
1.) Be on time, or at least let me know if you're running late.
2.) Wear cologne. Men that smell good are a major bonus.
3.) Offer to get the bill. I never expect it...but when you just let the bill sit there, it makes me feel weird. I am more than okay with going halfsies.
4.) Be honest. I'll never be mad at anyone who tells me the truth.
As you may recall, I mentioned in that Valentine's post, that I was worried I may never be able to have feelings for someone because I had given so much love to that one person so many years ago. While I was far from in love with this particular indivdual, I did see glimmers of being able to care for someone on an intimate level again. I'm hoping to see this person again as he was the best date(s) I went on. He was funny, brilliant, gave me shit, and from what I could tell, not afraid to put me in my place. And let's face it...If I'm going to have any hopes at a successful relationship, they will need to be just a smidge tainted...and be able to tell me off. :) Currently, I'm not sure where I stand with this gentleman caller, for all I know he had his fill of me and is onto other women (Which I'm sure would pale in comparison to me!) but in my heart of hearts, I have to believe he'll call me again. So kids, moral of the story is: Internet dating is not for those lacking intestinal fortitude. BUT if you play your cards right, you'll meet some nice guys, and have plenty of stories for happy hour. :)
Monday, August 13, 2012
Mormons. Friend or Foe?
Okay, okay, I know... I have been a little lazy in writing lately. For that I apologize. The summer has just been whizzing by...and with summer get togethers, BBQ's, and general life chaos, this lil' blog got swept under the rug. BUT, as I mentioned before. Where do I take it from here? So, I figured from here on out, since you're up to date on the life of me... I'll just start writing about different stories, and thoughts I have...and per usual, you will just need to deal with it.
Up until the spring of 2011 I never, really, knew any Mormons. I feel like in high school, I maybe knew one... but that is even questionable. Here is what I 'knew' in my mind.
1. Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses are the same thing.
2. When you see them coming down the street to your home, shut all doors, windows, turn off the tv, lay on the ground. My dear, sweet Mother taught me this maneuver.
3. No matter how persistent they are on the doorbell or with knocking, DO NOT, under and circumstances, open the door. Stay still, like you're dead, and remain on the floor. (You can imagine this was challenging after Einstein came to the Radke house.)
4. They're crazy and just want to convert you, at any cost to their religion.
5. Bill Paxton, in Big Love, kind of made me want to be Mormon.
6. These are the people that dress weird and have their kids married off by the time their 15 right? Like the Amish, only they have electricity, and they don't make quilts and candy??
As you may have guessed, those things that I 'knew' about Mormons... were completely wrong.
On week two of my new job in the cities, I was chatting with one of my co workers, trying to figure out everyone at the new place. I was not prepared for what my co worker would say next, 'Then there's Matt, he's Mormon'. Whoa, wait a minute, you back the fun train up a few notches. Did you just say he's MORMON?! I was just getting ready to say, I'm obsessed with Big Love on HBO!! When in her next breath my co worker said, 'And no matter what you do, don't say you like Big Love...' Crap. There went any common ground we had.
Upon closer inspection of 'The Mormon' he seemed so normal... Aside from the fact that he wanted to talk like Ace Venture on a daily basis, and had way too many awards in his cube... I thought I could actually like him.... But, one had to be careful, at any point he was going to try to convert me! I walked on egg shells, until one day in a staff meeting I made a wise crack about mediocrity. I didn't realize it at the time, but he thought it was hilarious, and sent me a link to witty medicrity 'non inspirational' posters. He has a sense of humor?? Interesting...
I started noticing little things, like he NEVER swore. 'Gosh darn it', was about as crazy as he got. I also started noticing he didn't know when we were quoting movies that had anything over a PG-13 rating... HOWEVER, what was so refreshing, is that he never once looked at me strange, or disapprovingly as I would let loose a string of curse words that would make a sailor blush. That's when I started getting curious about the ol' Mormon religion. I had never really seen one close up before, it was like seeing a zebra outside of the zoo walls. I had questions about a few things, and by God...Or Joseph Smith, if you will, I was going to find out about it!
We started occasionally having lunch together. Or as I liked to call it: Breaking Bread with Mormon. He was always more than happy to answer my questions, and never once, insisted I become a Mormon. Before I knew it, I was invited over to his home for dinner one night...and the best surprise of all came. I was having dinner with Mormon missionaries! You know, the cute lil' guys and gals that come around to the doors that I used to hide from?! I was actually going to meet them! What did they do all day?! How long do they have to ride their little bikes around for? What was a 21 year old, extremely good looking young man , from the South Pacific doing in St. Paul? And more importantly, if I converted to Mormonism...could we be married immediately?
To say I was a bit much for the sweet, innocent, pure, missionaries... may be an understatement. But they patiently answered all of my questions: When do you get up? Where do you eat? Do you have to ride your bike even if it rains? Are you guys BFF's after you do this whole missionary thing? What did you do today? Do your parents miss you terribly since you're gone for over a year? Will you marry me? ...You guys have a prophet... Could Matt be the prophet someday?
So after talking with REAL Mormons, let's see if the things I originally knew are accurate.
1. Negative. Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses... VERY different. Both send their peeps out to share in their beliefs...but that's where it ends.
2. Mormons just want to share their faith with you. Now, occasinally, you'll get an overzealous one that may be a smidge pushy. But keep in mind, they get the door slammed in their face a lot. They are just excited to talk with someone. Offer them some lemonade and have a chat, they will not be doing any animal sacrifices to get you to convert...at least not on the first meeting. :)
3. See above.
4. Again see above, they just get excited when you ask questions, it shows you are interested in their faith... of course they do get a signing bonus when they convert someone. Just kidding Matt! Just kidding. (He's reading this now and is probably cursing me...as much as he can anyway.)
5. Big Love, while entertaining for the obnoxious story line, and hot sex, probably not where I should have gotten most of my Mormon knowledge from.
6. Matt and his wife are some of the hippest dressers I know! Again, something HBO, may have put in my head..
So, after months of deliberation, many meals at Matt's home, enjoying his wife's food, I came to this conclusion. Mormons are no crazier than the rest of us. On some topics, they may even be onto something. And more importantly, when I see the cute lil' missionaries come to the door, I don't hide any more. I spew out everything I know about Mormon's...the way I have it figured..I should have a new Mormon boyfriend in the next year or so. ;)
Want to really learn more about Mormon goodness, check out their legit website...Probably a little more accurate than my ramblings: http://mormon.org/
Up until the spring of 2011 I never, really, knew any Mormons. I feel like in high school, I maybe knew one... but that is even questionable. Here is what I 'knew' in my mind.
1. Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses are the same thing.
2. When you see them coming down the street to your home, shut all doors, windows, turn off the tv, lay on the ground. My dear, sweet Mother taught me this maneuver.
3. No matter how persistent they are on the doorbell or with knocking, DO NOT, under and circumstances, open the door. Stay still, like you're dead, and remain on the floor. (You can imagine this was challenging after Einstein came to the Radke house.)
4. They're crazy and just want to convert you, at any cost to their religion.
5. Bill Paxton, in Big Love, kind of made me want to be Mormon.
6. These are the people that dress weird and have their kids married off by the time their 15 right? Like the Amish, only they have electricity, and they don't make quilts and candy??
As you may have guessed, those things that I 'knew' about Mormons... were completely wrong.
On week two of my new job in the cities, I was chatting with one of my co workers, trying to figure out everyone at the new place. I was not prepared for what my co worker would say next, 'Then there's Matt, he's Mormon'. Whoa, wait a minute, you back the fun train up a few notches. Did you just say he's MORMON?! I was just getting ready to say, I'm obsessed with Big Love on HBO!! When in her next breath my co worker said, 'And no matter what you do, don't say you like Big Love...' Crap. There went any common ground we had.
Upon closer inspection of 'The Mormon' he seemed so normal... Aside from the fact that he wanted to talk like Ace Venture on a daily basis, and had way too many awards in his cube... I thought I could actually like him.... But, one had to be careful, at any point he was going to try to convert me! I walked on egg shells, until one day in a staff meeting I made a wise crack about mediocrity. I didn't realize it at the time, but he thought it was hilarious, and sent me a link to witty medicrity 'non inspirational' posters. He has a sense of humor?? Interesting...
I started noticing little things, like he NEVER swore. 'Gosh darn it', was about as crazy as he got. I also started noticing he didn't know when we were quoting movies that had anything over a PG-13 rating... HOWEVER, what was so refreshing, is that he never once looked at me strange, or disapprovingly as I would let loose a string of curse words that would make a sailor blush. That's when I started getting curious about the ol' Mormon religion. I had never really seen one close up before, it was like seeing a zebra outside of the zoo walls. I had questions about a few things, and by God...Or Joseph Smith, if you will, I was going to find out about it!
We started occasionally having lunch together. Or as I liked to call it: Breaking Bread with Mormon. He was always more than happy to answer my questions, and never once, insisted I become a Mormon. Before I knew it, I was invited over to his home for dinner one night...and the best surprise of all came. I was having dinner with Mormon missionaries! You know, the cute lil' guys and gals that come around to the doors that I used to hide from?! I was actually going to meet them! What did they do all day?! How long do they have to ride their little bikes around for? What was a 21 year old, extremely good looking young man , from the South Pacific doing in St. Paul? And more importantly, if I converted to Mormonism...could we be married immediately?
To say I was a bit much for the sweet, innocent, pure, missionaries... may be an understatement. But they patiently answered all of my questions: When do you get up? Where do you eat? Do you have to ride your bike even if it rains? Are you guys BFF's after you do this whole missionary thing? What did you do today? Do your parents miss you terribly since you're gone for over a year? Will you marry me? ...You guys have a prophet... Could Matt be the prophet someday?
So after talking with REAL Mormons, let's see if the things I originally knew are accurate.
1. Negative. Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses... VERY different. Both send their peeps out to share in their beliefs...but that's where it ends.
2. Mormons just want to share their faith with you. Now, occasinally, you'll get an overzealous one that may be a smidge pushy. But keep in mind, they get the door slammed in their face a lot. They are just excited to talk with someone. Offer them some lemonade and have a chat, they will not be doing any animal sacrifices to get you to convert...at least not on the first meeting. :)
3. See above.
4. Again see above, they just get excited when you ask questions, it shows you are interested in their faith... of course they do get a signing bonus when they convert someone. Just kidding Matt! Just kidding. (He's reading this now and is probably cursing me...as much as he can anyway.)
5. Big Love, while entertaining for the obnoxious story line, and hot sex, probably not where I should have gotten most of my Mormon knowledge from.
6. Matt and his wife are some of the hippest dressers I know! Again, something HBO, may have put in my head..
So, after months of deliberation, many meals at Matt's home, enjoying his wife's food, I came to this conclusion. Mormons are no crazier than the rest of us. On some topics, they may even be onto something. And more importantly, when I see the cute lil' missionaries come to the door, I don't hide any more. I spew out everything I know about Mormon's...the way I have it figured..I should have a new Mormon boyfriend in the next year or so. ;)
Want to really learn more about Mormon goodness, check out their legit website...Probably a little more accurate than my ramblings: http://mormon.org/
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