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.  :)

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.  :)

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/

The time I lost my s**t...

I've been struggling with topics for the blog lately.  Mostly because I have brought you up to speed on the life O' Megan E. Radke and since we're in present day...where the hell do I take this thing now?  I think I have given everyone enough background on myself that I really shouldn't frighten you with any story I have to say...so I think it's time I 'fess up to one of the darkest, most obnoxious days..that lead into weeks..that turned into a couple months... that I can look back and giggle at now...but man I was angry... Dad, in writing this you know I love you, and you encourage my blog writing, so please don't be mad.. but I apologize in advance.  :)

As you recall, my mother left this sweet earth early.  That first year following her death was a real roller coaster.  It was the typical year of firsts as I've mentioned, and just when the whole year of firsts was done with, and I was getting excited for the holidays to be upon us yet again, and was getting used to my new normal, it was then that my dad dropped a bomb on me.  For whatever reason I think I'll always remember this and where I was, like people remember where they were when Kennedy was shot.   It was the Saturday before Thanksgiving, one of the first real cold days, and there was actually some significant flurries coming down and accumulating.  I was getting excited because my new work posse was getting together for an early Thanksgiving feast.  I had been excited about it all week long, it was going to be an afternoon of laughs, tons of food, and of course multiple adult beverages were going to be consumed.  I was just starting to get ready when I thought I better call dad before I head to the feast.  It started out with normal chit chat, and I don't even know how it was brought up, but here is the conversation, nearly verbatim that followed:

Dad: So I have something to tell you, and I think you're not going to like it...
Me: (On high alert, and immediately pissed) What?
Dad: So...I have a date next Friday night...

*Now this is where the crazy happens, at this point I see red..black...start hyperventilating...and then the word vomit happens....Also note the only child tendencies that reared their ugly head..*

Me: Why?
Dad: (on edge and just as sassy) Well why not?
Me: Wow, guess it doesn't matter that I'm going to be home for Thanksgiving that weekend.....
Dad: Now Megan, I suggested we get together, I didn't expect her to say yes, and when she picked a date I just went with it..
Me: Who is she?  Who's the whore?
Dad: Now Megan! Well...if you must know, it's (please note name change to protect the innocent) Cindy...
Me: Cindy...Cindy who?!  How long have you been talking to this Cindy?!  Sneaking around?!
Dad: You know Cindy, I dated her in high school..
Me: The one you were engaged to?!  That's great dad, going to move as fast as you did when you were young, go out,  rekindle some shit and then get married?  The entire time you were married to mom did you think about her?? God forbid you take some time and grieve for your DEAD wife...I mean it has been a little over a year now, you were just itching to find someone...maybe you need to properly grieve for your wife, go to a grief counselor...but if you want to go out with your Whore Du Jour for an evening of fast sex then knock yourself out!
Dad: Your mom is the one that left me Megan, not the other way around!
Me: She was sick Dad!  Mom was sick, and we didn't know it!

This episode was the start of an hour long conversation of crying, shouting, and tears.  By the time it was over I didn't even want to go to the damn early Turkey Day celebration.  I wanted to drink myself into oblivion and pass out.  I had cried so hard, my eyes were nearly swollen shut.  I hadn't cried like that, or been that emotional since the first few weeks after mom had died.  And for the first time, I got angry at mom.  I was mad that she had left and that dad was doing this and thus making my world, the new world where she's non existent, turn completely upside down all over again.

When I would tell people about this, there were two camps: The one was my favorite: complete shock and disgust that he is moving way too fast after finding his dead wife in the garage.  The other camp was the one that I wanted to join...but just couldn't find it in my heart to do so, this was the: Good for him!  He wants to live his life...the people in this group usually followed up their excitement for him with this statement for me: "Well, don't you WANT him to be happy?!"  No, assholes, I want him to die miserable and alone and not enjoy his life.  Of course I want my dad to be happy!  But I wanted him to take some time and really consider what kind of life change happened to him over the course of a year. And since when does being happy mean you HAVE to have a significant other??  I knew it was hard on him.  I didn't have to LIVE in that house.  I didn't have to walk out to the garage every day where he found her...the man never ran a vacuum until mom died.  (Which mind you was hilarious because I would come home and he would say things like, 'notice anything?  I vacuumed!') He was learning to cook for himself, clean the house, do laundry, seperate his pills...mom did all of that for him.  Not because he couldn't...but because that's what mom did.

And now...another woman was going to be in the picture, which meant one thing to me: I was a product of something that was officially null and void.  At least with mom gone dad and I still had all the memories about mom...but now what were the rules?  Could I mention mom?  Should I mention mom?  Was I going to have to meet this woman?  The thought of this woman in MY mother's house, the house that my mom took care of cleaning, and worked hard to maintain, and fix what she could when she and dad could afford it...some other woman was going to be there?!

I tried, LORD I TRIED...to get used to the idea.  But by Christmas my dad was acting like a total moron.  (Sorry dad, but you were.)  Dad and I had mini blow ups all the time at this point, I would ask questions and usually I was looking to provoke a little bit...but mostly try to figure out what the fuck he was trying to do.  I tried my best to put on a happy holidays face...but it was hard because by Christmas dad had started taking down mom's pictures around the house.  We had been in so many fights (and we never fought before that point) and so many things were said, and he told me more than any child should ever know about a parent's relationship...that I started to resent him. They were married for nearly 35 years, things change in that time, relationship evolve...but dad was only focusing on the negative, and making sure that I knew what hell he had been put through...  I knew my mother wasn't perfect...and he knew he wasn't...but because I was acting bat shit crazy, he had to try to counter act that and justify why he was doing what he was doing.  And what was he doing you ask?

Not only was he taking down mom's pictures, but on the first date with Cindy he took her to mom's favorite restaurant, he was spending Saturday's with Cindy's family baking holiday cookies, (This was the man that would get to a family function and promptly fall asleep on the couch, but please be elated to head to a lefsa session with the new girlfriend...) running back and forth to Rochester 2-3 nights a week to visit her..the man is 60 years old, he scares me behind the wheel of a car on a sunny day...he's not the driver he once was...He was headed to her family Christmas, talking every night on the phone with her and ending it with, 'love you!'  Barf.  Cindy is a nurse and needed to work on Christmas...and I was trying to get drunk on Christmas, make food and try to make this as normal as it could be, considering I could only look at my father and want to throw a heavy object at his head.  Next thing I know, he's on the phone wishing her a Merry Christmas and he was handing the phone to me...I was to thank her for a pair of earrings she picked out for me...I don't know what I said, I tried to sound extra friendly...but it was a blur..and then it was over...In the next breath dad was getting out the camera.  Now, this is the moment I was officially sent over the edge.  Cindy had given him a pair of Christmas PJ's.  Red flannel pants with a Tshirt that said (I still cringe at this) "No Mistletoe Needed" or something stupid like that.  My dad, Mister bi lateral hip replacements, Mister Multiple Sclerosis, is starting to get on his hands and knees..and CRAWL under the Christmas tree!  He holds the camera up to me and says, "Cindy wants a picture of me under the tree in the jammies she gave me, because I'm all she wanted for Christmas this year, so I thought I would take a picture and send it to her at work tonight in email..."  That wasn't the end, we then had to take pictures with the other things she gave dad and some milk bones or something that she gave to Einstein.  I think my voice was about 8 octaves higher than usual that entire holiday because I kept biting the inside of my cheek so I would keep from saying something stupid and fighting on Baby Jesus' birthday.

So what happened to Cindy you ask?  Turns out a few weeks later dad thought things were moving a little fast.  While I couldn't help but be elated, I of course felt ridiculously guilty because I had been such a pill...even though I didn't want to be.  I just couldn't help feeling like I no longer had a place in that house.  It was bad enough it didn't feel like home because mom wasn't there and dad was making it his own...but realizing that one day dad could...and more than likely would bring someone else into the picture, into my mom's house...there wouldn't be a place for me any more.  No matter how many times dad told me that wasn't the case, and even I know how ridiculous it sounds, I can't help how I feel.  And that my friends, is how I feel about that.  Sure I'm 30, and love my life...but I'm an only child and I'll pout if I want to.

The Mayor is still flying solo these days, he has a new motorcycle thingy that he is obsessed with right now, but I know the winter will bring on the blues for him again, and soon, as I know he is already, will be back on the dating websites, trying to find someone.  Perhaps not as full blown as 'the Cindy incident' was... but someone to fill the void... If there was one thing I took away from that shit show, was that no matter what age you are: 16 or 60, when you have a crush on someone, you will always act stupid.  Some of us just hide it better than other, huh Mr. No Mistletoe Needed?  Love you dad.  Thanks for putting up with my crazy, especially in that two month period.  :)

The New Work Posse.

How is it nearly the end of May and this will only be my second post this month?  I blame the weather, beers consumed and new found love of Mad Men that has kept me from the masses demanding more Megan E. Radke goodness.  :) 

I believe we left off with me getting ready to tell you about my new work peeps.  As you all are well aware by now.  Friends are my family.  As a single gal, work becomes a major focus in my life, thus the people that I see for 8+ hours a day I better damn well get along with. 

As mentioned previously, I start my brand new life in the metro with high hopes..only to have them smashed in a matter of a few days of starting my job, getting a kidney stone and needing surgery.  I instantly became known around my brand new office as the sick girl.  When I got back from surgery, I knew I was going to have to double my efforts to make sure the new co workers knew that I wasn't the sterotypical sick girl.  But..it looked like some damage had already been done.  I needed to assess the situation and do some major damage control if these people were ever going to fall in love with the essence of Radke.  Now, as those that are closest to me know: FAR be it from me to judge...But these people were clearly, really big ass holes.  I can say that now, because after a couple weeks I loved them...but man, coming down from my Vicodin high, that office seemed like the least friendly place in the world. 

I was once again working in the Admission realm, so everyone is overly outgoing and has a personality to match.  There's no need to change names, as they love this blog..and have been waiting for some time for me to get to them so they could share in the fame of this glorious written word.  AKA: Attention whores.  Since I am TERRIBLE with names (funny I work with the general public) I have always given name associations/nick names to people as to jog my memory and hopefully remember the name later...I think most of them know their associated names:

Chanell My Bell: She literally ignored me the first two weeks.  If we were standing next to each other, she would look anywhere but at me.  She had been there for about a year when I arrived and the only reason she talked to me was because she was forced to.  She was the cutest damn dresser, petite, and I immediately assumed she was a raging bitch.  My manager told me one morning I was to shadow Chanell for a few hours, I smiled and said, 'Sounds great!'  But as soon as she left, I turned around, rolled my eyes, grabbed my notebook, as I couldn't wait to be ignored for a few hours.  I wandered into her cube, said hello and made a joke about her being stuck with me for a bit.  In the next breath she asked me what my Zodiac sign was, and she was online determining if we would be compatible or not.  Huh...well she seems like fun...and she wasn't all work...interesting...more small talk...and about 10 minutes into 'shadowing' Chanell I knew I had a new friend.  She liked to laugh, was good at what she did, and more importantly, found me to be hilarious!  We were inseperable after that.

Terrence/Ter Bear: He is possibly the skinniest black man I have ever seen.  I could tell on day one this mo fo, ran the office.  He could say anything and get away with it...Wait a minute..that sounds like me...I liked him immediately.  You usually heard him before you saw him (wait..maybe he and I are related..) and he was notorious when the song 'Moves Like Jagger' came out to, sneak up behind us, throw a leg up on our desk, start singing the song and gyrate his body in all sorts of questionable HR kind of ways.  He also loved a good prank and was involved in the 2011 'baked potato in Radke's purse incident'. 

Asian Kate: This hooker I had a real hard time getting to know initially.  As you may have guessed: She's Asian.  She and Chanell were close, and even when Chanell gave the all clear as to my 'cool status' I could tell Kate was still not having it.  I'm not entirely sure at what point she decided I was okay, but it was definitely on her terms..and I was okay with that.  Now that little Asian and I hardly take a breath without okaying it with the other.  She is quiet, and takes in a lot of things...then will just drop these random sarcastic bombs on you when you least expect it.  She also has an undiagnosed case of A.D.D.  An example: "Hey Kate!  Come back here a minute!" As she flies by my cube, "Just a mintue I have to do something I'll be right back!"  Without fail 45 minutes later I will call her (Lord knows I'm not going to walk the 35 feet to her desk) and ask her if she forgot something, and then she'll remember she was supposed to swing back by my desk...

Matty Pants: Now, I can tell you, for the first 2-3 weeks I worked at this place, I wanted to punch him in the face.  Let me tell you why: He's the Ace Ventura guy.  You know what I mean...every office has one.  The guy that says, "Alllllrrrriiiggggghhhtyyyy Then..."  And other various quotes from the Ace Ventura movie.  As if that weren't bad enough, I walk into his cube to introduce myself to this joker, and he has about 14 awards sitting up strategically on his book case, as if to announce to anyone that walked in there what a big deal he was.  I was clearly going to despise him.  However, it was after a meeting about a month into the job when I was starting to feel more comfortable and cracked a joke at a morning meeting...and he laughed it..then followed it up with an email joke later that day, that I realized he was really funny.  He is usually the one that gets us back on track if we lolligag a little too long...but over all, a very tainted sense of humor on this one, which was unexpected and fabulous.

Bri Bri/Carp/Brian: Ugh, when I first met this one, I assumed he had a former career in used car sales.  He was a pretty boy, well put together, and then come to find out he's in a band?!  Bwahahahaha, clearly douchey.  It only took one drunken night out a few month into the new job to make me realize he was legit.  He wasn't afraid to give me shit, and could take it when I gave it back to him.  On top of that he's got roots in Southern Minnesota too, he couldn't be all bad.  I will forever be his friend as his mother came to his apartment at Thanksgiving and cooked a MASSIVE meal for all of his friends...anyone that can cook like that, willingly...will be in my life forever.  Oh...I guess I'll keep Brian around too..

Jeremy: He doesn't get a nick name.  He stands out.  He's the blonde Rick Moranis, is in finance, and when you look at him...well...he's exactly what you would expect.  And for once I mean that in a really, really, good way.  He looks like he just got done crunching numbers in the nerdery.  He is easy to get to laughing about something, socially awkward, and all around nice guy.  We really keep him around (And Matty Pants for that matter too) because he's not a big drinker and is fabulous at being a sober cab. 

There have been many great peeps in my short 14 month stint at the school, but this is the core group that started out and has thus remained...even though a couple have moved on...we stay connected as we have endured some crazy management styles together.  But it just creates for all the good stories when we get together again.  At one point or another I may need to tell another story..and at that time I'll tell you about the other crazies I have/do work with.

It didn't take long for me to feel comfortable at the new job because of these lunatics.

Potato Queen heads to the big city

Hello followers.  Hope everyone is enjoying this fabulous weather.  Well...those of you that are in the upper Midwest that is….. So where to begin…After that purging of my mom’s story last time I wrote, I needed to take a bit of a hiatus.  As you can imagine that was a smidge emotional for me and I needed some time to rethink things a bit. 

Where to begin after that massive upheaval in my life…Things continued on that summer as I created a new normal in my life, a life without my mom.  Dad and I started our year of firsts: First holidays, first birthdays without her.  And then I started to get antsy.  Antsy, in that, I felt like I needed to get out of Winona and get out fast.  I had known for some time that Winona is a great town to raise a family in, a rockin’ town to go to college in...but to be in your 20’s and single: it blew.  All of my friends migrated to the cities after college or high school, and had the job in admissions not fallen right in my lap, I probably would have done the same.  So I started looking for work up here. 

It didn’t take long to find a job in admissions at a career training school.  So in a matter of two weeks, I put in my resignation at my alma mater, bought a car (since I didn’t need a car as one was provided for me for work) found a place to live up here, packed up my apartment in Winona, said an emotional good bye to my office/home for 6 years and off I went! 

Now for a gal that doesn’t take change well, I think I did pretty darn good.  I began work in admissions, but it was the POLAR OPPOSITE of working in my old admission office.  I worked with 18-22 year olds in the traditional college setting before, now I was part time social worker as I listened to stories of people putting their education off because they had had children too young or women that turned tricks and stripped for most of their life and wanted something better.   On an average day you can see me trying to burp a child while his or her mom or dad fills out an application, or more recently, a child pooped his pants in my cube and then proceeded to lick the entire surface of my desk while I stepped away for a moment.  It’s only in those few times do I cringe and wonder what the hell I’m doing here..okay maybe a few more times than that..but that’s for another blog entry..

Within the first 36 hours of starting a new job, my body decided to kick out a kidney stone, become lodged and I needed to have surgery.  To say I was a basket case at this time, would be an understatement.  I was afraid my new co workers were going to think I was the annoying sick girl, and worse yet, I was in between insurance.  Frickin’ typical.  I began to think that this was God telling me I had done the wrong thing.  I was high on Vicodin, and an emotional mess.  My first 2 weeks up here was not the fresh start I was hoping for. 

Good news was, after surgery, I was feeling like a million bucks, which was good: I had a whole new audience to impress with my humor, and they were just getting ready to be rocked by Megan E. Radke.  Next time, we meet the new crazies I work with…

A story for a special lady

Below is Mom's homily that was said at her mass.  I love dragon flies because of this.  :)

At the bottom of the pond little grubs were crawling around. They wonder what happens to their members who climb up the stems of the lilies and never come back. "I wonder what its like up there," they'd ask each other. They agreed among themselves that the next one who is called to the surface will come back. The next day, a little grub finds himself drawn to the surface by nature and crawls up the stem and out on the surface on the lily leaf. He found it so bright up there. The light was almost blinding, not dark and murky like it was down below. "They won't believe this," the little grub thought to himself.

Then, something begins to happen. He began to feel his sides start to swell. Painful at first then amazement slowly, two huge beautiful colored wings began to unfold out of his sides, and he becomes a beautiful dragonfly. He never imagines that this could have happened! He thought he'd remain a grub forever. He flew back and forth across the pond. He could see all the other grubs in the pond below but they couldn't see him. Soon, he realized there was no way he could get back to tell them and that they could not recognize such a beautiful creature as ever having been one of them.
Our scripture readings and this story all have to do with new life. Berde is certainly experiencing a new life with our loving God.

In the Gospel of John we hear the words: "Do not let your hearts be troubled." These words are most remarkable.  Jesus knew his disciples had very troubled hearts, because of what he had just told them about his imminent death.  Jesus knows are hearts are troubled.  Our hearts are troubled because a wife, a mother a friend was taken from us too early in this life time.

Yet our hearts should know comfort because Berde will live on because love never ends and Berde's life is more precious because of how fully she lived her life.  Berde lived her life fully:
.       As a wife to Ted and a mother of Megan.  Berde lived the words proclaimed in the Book of Proverbs.  She was an ideal wife and mother.
.       Being a best friend to Megan slipping her treats when she left home.
.       Being a frugal person only buying a four pack of toilet paper versus the 24.
.       Spending time with her closest friends, making rosette's wanting to laugh willing to party
.       Being a friend to others by sending cards, writing poems all to give others a smile on their face.
.       Being a woman of faith. Berde loved being involved in church, sharing her faith with others and made sure the sacristy had freshly laundered communion cloth.
.       Enjoyed spending the summer months watching the Minnesota Twins games and the quiet times on the pontoon at Balsam Lake.
.       Spoiling her dog Einstein

Our hearts are troubled because a wife, a mother a friend was taken from us too early in this life time.  Yet we need to understand the following beliefs:

Berde had a mental illness. Berde was not perfect and had a hard time dealing with her own imperfections. Berde was the only one who knew the depth of the illness.  It was this illness that caused her to take her own life.

We must in the days ahead remember how Berde touched our lives. Let us not judge her, judge her imperfections or judge the end.  We will leave the judgment up to God. Instead, let us talk about the nice cards we received, her laughter her willingness to share her faith. This is what needs to be shared in café and in the streets of Hollandale and surrounding communities.

Our hearts should know comfort that Berde is in the loving hands of God and by her side is her mother who she loved dearly.  She is experiencing new life with no more illness, no more guilt, no more struggle.  As we heard in the book of Revelation Berde is experiencing a new life with God.
Our hearts should know comfort because God recognizes a life fully lived and loved. God recognizes our struggles and certainly understood Berde's struggles in this world. Because God understands and loves the reward is eternal life.

Roberta Ann Radke 1952-2010

I knew at some point I was going to share this, and have been dreading it since I started writing this blog.  My life up until July 26, 2010 had been a good one.  Of course there were the usual ups and downs that happen in everyone's life, but for my first 28 years on this earth, I can say I was no worse for the wear.  Of course I had seen grand parents pass away, and had mini dramas here or there, but ultimately, I had been a very lucky, lucky girl.  With all of the reminders of Mother's Day on TV or the radio lately, she has been on my mind a lot. 

It was a typical Minnesota July day.  Sweltering, humid, and rumor had it some of the first sweet corn of the season was out.  I had worked all day on campus in the office, and as soon as the day was over drove to pick up corn.  It's funny how little things are engraved in one's memory when their world forever changes.  I went home, cleaned the corn on my patio, drank a beer, took a shower, and had just sat down with steaming ears of corn at my table, when I heard my cell phone ring in the distance.  Nothing was going to stop me from enjoying this corn, I buttered it up, put a ton of salt and peppper on it, and let my phone ring.  The corn was as good as my co workers had said, so sweet, each kernel popped in my mouth.  My phone rings again.  I was covered in butter and corn, couldn't stop for the phone, I would check who called when I finished.  The phone rings again.  Now, I'm interested.  3 calls in less than 5 minutes?  I wash my hands, and head over to my cell phone on my coffee table.  3 missed calls: HOME.  Well that's weird, my parents never call me that much, I thought to myself.  I had a voicemail.  I listen to it: Just chaos, Einstein barking.. and something that sounds like someone saying, "She's not answering..." Another voice: "Keep trying her..."   Just as I was about to call my parents, my phone rings again, it's from HOME.  I answer, "Jeeze!  What's going on there?!"  A voice I have never heard says, "Is this Megan Radke?"  Me: "Yes.."  My heart pounding... Voice: "Are you driving?  Are you somewhere you can talk?"  Me: "Yes.... I mean I'm not driving.."  I knew in that moment that this voice was going to tell me one of my parents had died.  Voice: "Megan, something has happened here...I don't want you to panic, or do anything rash, your mother....well your mother was found in the garage..."  The rest is a bit of a blur, but it goes something like this:

Me: Wait, you found her in the garage?  Is she okay? 
Voice: No...No, she passed away....
Me: What???  How??
Voice: The details are a little unclear at this time..
Me: God damn it, what the fuck are you talking about??!  Wait, are you sure, she's dead?  (Because clearly, medical professionals couldn't pronounce my mother dead, I was the only one that could truly know if her life had expired.)
Voice: Do you have someone to be with you?
Me: (Screaming) Where's my dad?!  Put my God damn dad on the mother fucking phone!
Voice: (Muffled..) She's insisting to talk to Ted....
Dad: (Shaken and crying) Megs?
Me: Dad, tell me they're wrong, mom's not dead????
Dad: She is Megan...I found her...I held her...
Me: (Sobbing) Nooooo......Why????
Dad: I don't know honey, we don't really know...Can you find someone to drive you home?
Me: Yeah...I will find someone...I will be there as soon as I can...

I was shaking, crying, my head was spinning, I didn't know what to to do.  It's funny how your mind works when your whole world is turned upside down.  In my next breath I called my VP at work, I didn't know where to start...but I knew I wasn't going to be at work for awhile... and it seemed like I should tell him... I called his house first, left a rambling message about how I wasn't going to be in to work for a few days because my mom had died..then tried his cell..he called me back in minutes, and was at my door 20 minutes later with his wife.  In the time it took for them to get there I called one of my college friends, and good friend of my family, Lauren.  She answered and I spewed out that mom had died..and my boss was coming over..and I didn't know what to do.  She helped me via phone make a list of what I needed to pack for at least the next few days... I don't think I would have been able to pack anything if she hadn't been physically telling me what to put in a bag.  I was still in my pajamas when I opened the door to my boss and his wife, they said nothing, just hugged me.  They sat on my couch and asked me what I knew so far.  Which was pretty much nothing.  I then asked them if they could drive me to Hollandale as I was quite sure I couldn't drive myself.  My boss had called Aubrey for me, and had told her about mom.  Aubrey was the next to call me as I was enroute home with my boss.  He was very funny as we drove, I didn't want to make conversation, I just wanted to look out the window, and make a few calls.  He wanted to make sure that I was content listening to the Minnesota Twins game via WCCO.  Truth was, I couldn't hear anything that night if I wanted too, my thoughts were too loud. 

I had never wanted to see Hollandale so badly in my entire life.  As I drove down Highway 251, that hot summer night, I looked over all of the vast fields of corn, onions, potatoes..silently taking it all in... My boss pulled up in the driveway, and my dad was on the deck with Einstein on his leash, the house all lit up behind him, I could see people inside.  It was slow motion.  I opened my door, got my bag out, dad was coming down the steps of the deck, Einstein pulling his leash tight trying to get to his Sissy as fast as he could.  Dad finally let go of his leash and I knelt down to grab Einstein and love him up.  And the tears started again.  Einstein licking my face, and jumping in my arms as if to say that I was never going to believe the shit that went down there that night.  I stood up and looked at dad, who had been crying, and we just hugged, and said that we loved each other.  My boss drove away...and then I had to go into that house. 

The house that was never again going to feel the same.  My mom was never going to be baking cookies or meatloaf when she knew I was coming home. She was never going to be sitting on the love seat watching the Twins and drinking a Mich Golden Light when I walked through the door. 

I looked around my parents small living room, the living room that mom meticulously cleaned multiple times throughout a week...and there were the people that had helped shape who I was in my formative years in Hollandale.  Kevin and Sheila, my dad's co workers, Ron, our neighbor, Big Don, my dads best friend and co worker, Emily and Barb, part of my mom's coffee clutch...but I was only looking for one woman: Shareen.  She is Big Don's wife, and my mom's best friend.  She was silently doing dishes in my mom's kitchen with her back turned to me as I walked through the mass of people to find her... I stood there, and said, "Shareenie?"  My nickname that I gave to her, as she was always my second mother... She turned slowly to me, didn't say anything, and just walked over, hands still wet with soap and water, and hugged me, we said nothing at first, and then I started sobbing, uncontrollably, a sob that only a mother could calm down..."What am I going to do??"  I sobbed?  She muffled a cry in my shoulder, and said, "I don't know honey, but we'll get through it.." 

That night dad and I couldn't sleep.  We stayed up after everyone had left, and talked about many things.  Ultimately, we knew one fact: Mom had committed suicide.  At that time we were unclear of why, but in the days to follow it would become clear.  There was no note, she had made her bed that morning, took Einstein for a walk, took a Vicodin cocktail out to the garage, locked the garage door, started the car, and fell asleep.  Dad and I discussed what we would do for her service, as this was unexpected and a funeral was not planned.  He tried to sleep in his recliner that night with the tv on...Einstein and I crawled into their bed...it still smelled like her..Her pillow smelled just like her.  If I did sleep it was broken..and by early morning dad and I were both up.

In a town of 300 word had spread that the Mayor's wife killed herself in about 6-8 hours.  Dad and I discussed how we were not going to hide this fact from anyone.  We were taken by surprise, and we didn't want anyone else to have to be blindsided like we were.  When people asked us what happened, we told them.  No one should ever have to lose a loved one in this way.  This is why to this day I will always openly tell people, if they ask me how mom died. 

Grief is an interesting thing.  The house was a revolving door of people and food.  Some people that knew us well just came and stayed, which we liked the best.  Other people that didn't know us that well, but wanted to share their condolences would stop by...and then ask every detail about how dad found mom.  Then there were people that we thought we were good friends with, or knew mom really well, and didn't say a damn thing.  But without fail, every person that came: brought food.  Which is funny because the last thing I wanted to do those days was eat.  I had no appetite for days, but the food was piling up.  I think we may still have buns frozen in some neighbors freezers if I were to go looking for them...

We had a beautiful service for mom.  The church was nearly full, we figure around 300 people came to the service, and we were so, so blessed by the beautiful flowers, memorials and over all, outpouring of love for this woman.  People from her high school years, nursing school days, various nursing jobs, the list goes on and on...came or sent cards to her.  Her patients that she saw on a regular basis with her doctor were devastated by her death.  We always knew she was the life of the party, but to hear how she would go above and beyond for not only us, but for others in her life, was really heart warming. 

My mom died because she was so busy helping us, she couldn't help herself.  She took on one of my student loans while I worked at my alma matter for peanuts, she helped pay for my dad's hip replacements, and various other health ailments...We found a stack of bills that were unpaid under the seat of her car.  She had began gambling to try to get money to help us with these things, and didn't want to ask us for help because she was the strong one.  We could have figured this out together, but she didn't want to let on to us that anything was wrong.  She was the best mom anyone could ask for, and I got her all to myself, for 28 glorious years.  She (and my dad, for that matter) were the parents that all of your friends love.  I miss her, every, single day.  I would give anything if I could just have one more day with her, to hear her voice, to listen to her laugh, to drink beers and talk about the Twins.  To tell her, that I love her more than she will ever know, and that I thank her for everything she and dad gave up to give to me.  But then I realize, that one day isn't enough.  I am selfish and I would want more than that. 

I work hard to be the woman that my mom raised me to be.  Smart, funny, not afraid to speak my mind, but over all, caring about every relationship that is in my life.  My mom was the best at remembering birthday's, anniversaries, etc.  She knew that relationships is what makes life worth living.  I am the person I am today, because of her. 

Mom pre-gaming before the last Twins game at the Metrodome :)

Only mom would find a wine tasting outside the Dome..not enjoying the Merlot..

First and last Mother's day at Target Field.

My brother.

On March 17, 2007 my life forever changed as my parents had another child at the ripe ages of 55 and 56.  No, they aren't some weird television special you would watch on The Learning Channel about old people getting pregnant...It was worse.  They got a dog.

Now mind you, I had only asked for a dog every single day of my existence from the age of 6 to about 16...did I get a dog??  Nooooooooo.  I suggested they get one when I left for college, did they get a dog?  Nooooooo.  My parents began dog sitting for a Bichon Frise, and had slowly warmed up to the idea of a dog.  The dog would come and stay for a few nights, was well behaved, potty trained, and that started the wheels turning that maybe a little furry companion wouldn't be such a bad idea.  Of course, they said that and then didn't do anything about it for like 4 years.  Mom was throwing her lunch tray away in the cafeteria one January day, when she saw the pictures of the litter of Bichon Frise puppies on the bulletin board at work.  She came home and mentioned it to dad, as the puppies would be ready for pick up around Valentines day.  Dad didn't think much about the idea, but when I called home one night to talk with them, mom was going on and on about how cute they were.  I encouraged them to just go look.  She made a call to the nurse at the clinic that was selling them, and got some details.  Again, mentioned it to dad, and again, he didn't say too much.  I pushed a little more, and when there were only 2 puppies left in the litter my parents decided they would just 'go look' at them.

On the weekend I knew they were going to go look at the puppies, I decided I needed to go to their house and go with them to look the dogs because clearly this was going to be entertainment.  We rolled onto a sprawling farm, and as we walked to the door I could hear the excited puppies pawing at the door.  Mom's friend that was selling the puppies opened the door and out came two white balls of fur.  We got them back inside and sat down to scope the pups out.   There was a boy pup and girl pup left.  My parents knew they wanted the boy IF they were to get one at all.  I sat on the floor living my childhood dream of getting to pick out a puppy.  Even if I was 25... The puppies chased each other around, climbed up in my lap, played on the floor.  I was sold.  I was too scared to look at my parents though, fearing they would not be.  Now, it was Mom's idea to come and look at the dogs, and suddenly, it's like the reality of it sank in, and she wasn't as in love as I thought she was going to be.  Then the boy pup wandered over to dad, circled around his legs and dad picked him up.  There this big man was, holding this little 6lb ball of white fur with apricot ears, and little pink tongue poking out, he cuddled right into dad...In the next breath I heard dad say, "How much for the male pup?"  And reached for his check book.  They waited a week to pick him back up as they wanted to prepare the house for the puppy.

The dog was given a distinguished name: Einstein Patrick Radke.  Einstein, as clearly he was the smartest puppy in the world.  Patrick, because they picked him up on St. Patrick's Day.  He is a pure bred Bichon Frise, and from that day forward my parents lives changed, just like when they brought me home from the hospital.

Those of you that knew my mother, know that she was ANAL about how she kept her house.  Einstein was in the house about 20 minutes the first time he peed on the carpet, about an hour before he pooped, and about 3 days before he barfed everywhere.  The first 2 weeks they had little sleep, lots of potty training, lots of discussions on not chewing on things around the house, and at one point I think my mom was crying thinking that her house was going down the shitter.  He took to potty training quickly though, and soon the fun began.  Which is also when I started getting daily email updates from mom that went like this: "Morning Meg!  Einstein was such a big boy last night, he slept the whole night through in his kennel, woke up and went out side and did a pee and BIG poo!  He's such a little cuddle bug."  The majority of my emails and phone calls from that point forward was an Einstein story.  A conversation that actually happened while on the phone, now mind you, mom would talk to the dog, like he was a real person that understood what she was saying...

Einstein can't leave laundry alone...he got a pair of my undies when I was doing laundry at my parents...

Me: Hey, thought I would call and see how you guys are.
Mom: Oh, we're just sitting here watching the game.
Me: You got dad to watch the Twins game?
Mom: No!  Me and Einstein!
Me: Oh..Einstein likes baseball?
Mom: LOVES IT!  He likes Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau the best.
Me: Sure he does...So I was going to ask you about.........
Mom: (Cutting in, talking to the dog) EINSTEIN!  What did Mommy say?!  Einie?!  Mommy said do not chew on cord to the lamp.  Remember what I said?  I said that you can electrocute yourself, remember?!  (She then proceeds to make a fake electrocuting noise.) Now, that's right, come back here to the love seat and sit by me...Good boy.  Now what were you saying Meg?

Around this time I also got a new name.  I was no longer Megan in the eyes of my parents, I was 'Sissy.'  They said that Einstein was my brother, and that I was his sister...Rarely did they call me Megs, Meg, or Megan from that point on.  My brother, born from a K-9 mother, was now in my parents world, my biological brother.  There was no use fighting it.  I just smiled and nodded, and knew that, that little fluff butt was making them happy and keeping them on their toes.  He is the only brother I will ever have...and he was pretty damn cute.

You can probably see the resemblance if you look closely..

The time Aubrey and I had to be role models.

Good Sunday friends.  It's a wee bit of a sauna here this afternoon, as the weather can't decide if it wants to storm, or just wait 24 hours, cool down, and have snow flurries tomorrow.  Only in Minnesota right?  What better to do when sweltering through humidity in April, then to write a blog entry that I know my followers have been thirsting for. 

I got to thinking about funny things that happened over the course of my 6 years as an Admission Counselor at my alma mater.  There were many funny stories, and I would love to tell all of them, but for obvious reasons I can't because A.) people are sensitive and probably not ready for my observations on their stupidity.  B.) I would like to always be welcomed back to that campus and not banned because I decided to tell the world (or my 14 followers) about how on occasion they would do things ass backwards.  It's funny how when you are no longer a student on that campus, but employed by them that you really see how decisions are made...and one of the BEST decisions our Vice President for Admission ever made was to put Aubrey and I in charge of the student ambassador program. 

Now just a refresher on who Aubs (or Aubz, as she prefers, because she thinks it's more urban) is: She is the Visit Coordinator in the campus Admission Office.  She set up all visits individually for each student and his or her family that would be planning a trip to campus.  If it was just a tour and meeting with an Admission Counselor (like yours truly) she would set that up...or for the anal retentive student that wanted: a tour, lunch on campus, meet with a student in his or her future major, (which was probably pre-med because everyone thinks they're going to be a doctor when they're 18, until the realize they're really not that smart.  Easy, don't hate on me because I saw it a million times over the course of my time there: "I can't wait to be a doctor!...Hey, wait...these labs are really hard and this major is based in science??") sit in on a class, meet a coach, and then stay over night with a current student...she would set up all of that.  Her multi tasking skills are beyond amazing.  Slowly more and more got added to her plate and they were going to add the ambassador program to her growing list of things to do.  As a former student ambassador, I remembered how amazing the program was when I was a freshman/sophomore in college, and then what a disaster it turned into when someone new took it over.  So in passing to our VP one day I suggested that I could co-direct the ambassador program with Aubrey.  He had no problems with that...and that's when that program got a face lift, like none other. 

So, you've got me: Loud, politically incorrect, bossy, and a bit of a perfectionist..mixed with Aubs: Hottie with body, no filter, politically incorrect, go with the flow...You can see how this is both a perfect and crazy combination.  Or how we ended up playing out the dynamic duo: good cop/bad cop.  Aubs was the good cop, and I played the bad cop because I had no problem telling our ambassadors when they screwed up and needed to start acting like decent human beings.  The first thing on the agenda was to completely revamp the hiring/training process.  We built this from the ground up, interviewing students (which was a shit show in itself, and I'm pretty sure is like no interview that student will never have again.)  before the school year was out for returning students, and at freshman orientation for new students.  They would walk into the room all serious and nervous about wanting to get a job with the Admission office, and there Aubrey and I would be.  Initially it started out semi serious, but by interiew #40, Aubrey was introducing herself as...Herself... and me as "Megan, but she goes by Banana Hammock."  So if the students could show they had a sense of humor, and that they had a work ethic..or at least attempted to have a work ethic, we were going to hire them.  We needed numbers in the program for tours, over night hosts, and tons of other little events our office would put on.  That first fall we had about 70 student ambassadors we were in charge of.   The program grew over the years and by the time I left we had about 85 students in the program that we were in charge of.  This also meant, these 18-22 year olds were looking to Aubrey and I for advice not only in the program, but would come to us when break ups would happen, fights with roomies would transpire, and overall college gossip that we needed to be in the know about. 

*Every year Aubs and I would put our face on something and give it to the kids as a gift.  This particular year - A can koozie, which I 'm sure ONLY non alcoholic beverages were kept cold in.*

Now, looking back on this, I wonder if we were the right people for this job.  The 2 of us were, trying to keep the training/program as interactive as possible, and have some kind of control.  Because young adults, can smell fear.  Let me tell you, that first day of training every August, Aubrey and I were scared shitless.  There were many more of them, and only 2 of us, and without fail, trying to get a room of nearly 80, out going students to listen to you, is like trying to silence a mosh pit at a Marilyn Manson concert.  So we did what any leader would do, we wrote a rap about the ambassador program, and found ways to make fun of ourselves before the students could do it.  This helped for a number of reasons: 1.) Aubrey and I were able to relax a bit with laughter first thing on day 1.  2.) It made the students see that we were approachable.  3.)  It started training off with a bang and showed the kids it was going to be fun...and 4.) Show them that these 2 are lunatics, may be older than they were, but still had the mental capacity of 18-22 year olds.  By day 3 I was usually tired of trying to silence everyone and they were all wearing on my nerves.  Aubrey always totally held it together, but in trying to hold it together my sarcasm/angers evils cousin, was bound to come out.  The following are directions I was trying to give while shouting over students on the last day, verbatim, while shadowing tours and trying to learn the tour routes:

Me: "If you're with Sarah's group, go over there, if you're following Sami, meet up here, if you have a gun, bring it to me...Meet back here when you're all done!"  If they didn't know what sarcasm was when they entered the program, by God, they were fluent in it by the time they were Seniors. 

Aubrey and I loved those damn kids.  They made us crazy as hell, but they were the favorite part of both of our jobs.  When I got ready to take a new job last year, it was the ambassadors and Aubrey that I dreaded telling that I was leaving.  Aubrey because we had been through so much together professionally and personally over the years, and the students because, while I'm not a mother, they are the closest things I will ever have to my own children. When they hurt, we hurt, and when they had success, we felt we were part of that success as well.  I like to think that when they look back at their time in college they will remember Aubrey and I, and hopefully just a little part of our craziness, and sincere love for them will be remembered.

*We loved when our students would finally be of age to have an adult beverage with.  They knew the deal was that once they turned 21 we would take them for a drinkie poo.  A right of passage if you will.*

The program ran so well, that we actually presented 2 summers in a row at a conference on the program, and now colleges throughout the country are shadowing the program that Aubrey and I created.  Presenting at a conference of course meant, she and I were able to leave the office for a few days and cause some trouble in Chicago...Not that we weren't causing trouble together in south eastern Minnesota. 

*Aubs and I presenting in Chicago at the ACT Conference.  In case you can't tell, we're kind of a big deal. *

Looking back at those 6 years, I don't think I would have made it some days if Aubrey hadn't been there to tell me to cool down, or be a shoulder to cry on, or listen to her stories about the latest man that was chasing after her.  I looked forward to going to work to seeing those kids, and having Aubrey aka Aubz there as my voice of reason.  We were an unlikely pair, but once the powers of Radke and Aubz were joined, there was no seperating us.  My wish for you dear readers, is that you have someone as fabulous as the Divine Ms. Aubz to help your days go smoothly at work, and laugh at how your co-workers make YOU seem normal.  :)

Consultants: People who know nothing about what you do, but want to tell you how to change it...

Hello faithful followers.  I apologize for my lack of blogging lately.  I've been lazy...and by lazy I mean, I get sucked into my couch and mindless tv when I get home from work.  Please forgive me.

Now, where was I...Ahhh, yes, my first job and the crazies that I worked with.  I was minding my own business, loving being a woman of road.  My territory I recruited from were some major metro areas, not in the state of Minnesota.  I assume they gave me this territory because I was single, young and eager to please the powers that be, and I was very open about, how, as an only child I love my time to myself.  Which is why I imagine they had no problem sending me on the road that first fall for 6 weeks.  I left in late August and didn't return until October.  I took in most of the state of Iowa, getting a chance to see the world's largest cheeto in Algona, Iowa.  Clipped down, to Omaha, Kansas City, St. Louis, and then back home again.  Along the way getting a chance to meet other admission reps from other schools as we did college fairs together.  I would always try to do different things in my off time from attending college fairs, going on high school visits, going to bad high school plays and acting like it was Broadway to woo a student to the school...I would tour different places in the cities I was visiting, like Boys Town (The actual Boys Town in Omaha, not the one in Chicago...) or took in the Budweiser brewery tour when in St. Louis, and of course, plenty of shopping.  Many adventures happened while on the road, from car trouble, to being stranded in all kinds of weather, to being offered drugs by a nice homeless man in St. Louis.  It was all part of the experience. 

When I got back that second year in the fall, a quiet, uneasiness had fallen over the office.  In an attempt to bring more students to the school, there was a decision made to bring in a consulting firm to analyze numbers, processes, and the over all admission experience for incoming students.  While, I'm sure there are many, many wonderful consultants out there, we were given a man who was still under the impression in was 1986 and he was hip to how the Gen Y generation needed to be recruited.  Fact was, he had a questionable hair piece, was as tall as Sasquatch, and did this weird thing where he would constantly clear his throat.  That man had more phlegm than I ever thought was humanly possible.  I usually heard his mucus before I saw him.  It was decided there needed to be a new hierarchy in the office, and he appointed himself our interim director until a new one was found.  That's when the trouble began..and I also believe at that exact point is the time I started drinking heavily. 

We were all forced to have these awkward one on one sessions with him where he would act like he was listening to you..but then wasn't at all, and just say what he wanted you to do about 7 different ways until you just gave in, and agreed to do it.  He was the king of stereotyping.  He wanted someone pretty at the front desk as the visit coordinator, that's why he wanted Aubrey as the first person to be seen as families came in...He never directly told me this, but it got back to me that he had implied because I'm pleasantly plump, I'm clearly lazy.  (Which as stated above I am...but not when I'm rocking my job, just when I come home and take my bra off, he was such a dick.)  This brings me to one of my favorite stories.

It was February, and a major alumni/prospective student event was to be taking place in Chicago.  They bussed down half the faculty and staff for this thing, and after the all day event, the admission staff was going to stay over night, and do a retreat the next day before we headed back.  So after everyone had left it was decided the staff, consultant, college president, and a few members of the board of trustees were going to go out for a nice meal.  So here we are, all exhausted from a day of talking with prospective students and their families, just wanting a glass of wine, and good food.  Well some idiot, picked out a fabulous place for us to eat dinner, but got us reservations on the bar side, not in the restaurant...so here we are, 15 of us, scrunched around a long table in the bar section, I'm practically on the lap of the VP for Admission on my right, and on my left, here are my favorite coworkers/members of the circle of trust from the staff.  Since we didn't really want to be there with the consultant, or the other people that make us crazy, we did what anyone would do in that situation.  We drank.  Now here's what I'm working with: the consultant saying off handed comments to me, one of my coworkers proceeds to order the lobster in front of the president of the university, doesn't know how to eat it, and he actually pries it from her hand and cracks it open himself, a cute little priest who can't hear anything, my drunk friends, and the rest of the bat shit crazy staff.  When the food finally came out, I looked over at Dave, and he had no space to eat his food, and was actually eating his food like a T-Rex because there is no space at the bar table we were at.  I proceeded to spill half of my pasta down the front of my shirt, and I think announce at one point, "It's so hot in here, I wish I had worn my tube top!"  Clearly, my VP was glad he had sat in between me and the President.  With the painful dinner finally done, we go back to the hotel...and I'm getting ready to take my bra off, and put my jammies on because the next day will be a mind numbing day with the consultant before we drive back to Minnesota.  My co workers had other plans for me.  I was summoned to another room, where there was a massive jug of Bacardi and a 2 liter of Coke.  I sit down for A drink.  But little did I know I was getting about 3 parts rum to 1 part Coke..and that night was going to escalate quickly.  Next thing I know I was on drink # 4, the annoying co workers had come to hang with the circle of trust, and I was being fed cheetos by the staff member I couldn't tolerate for the life of me..but that night, she was my best friend.  Pretty soon, I found Dave's shaving cream in the bathroom, made a mess, and about 20 minutes after that Dave had thrown up on himself and the party was over. 

We got about 4 hours of sleep that night, and woke up, feeling surprisingly alert for the 'staff retreat'.  Walked down the hall to the suite where we were to meet at, and there was phlegmy sasquatch waiting for us.  He then proceeded to hand us the stupidest personality test I have ever done.  Now, it could be because my head was a little hazy from the night before, but the questions were worded so poorly, I actually just copied Mary's answers because I couldn't comprehend what they were asking..and when I asked for clarification the consultant would just tell me to circle a letter, because, "That's just what you are Megan.."  What a douche.  Like he knew me and what I would answer...We were about 2 hours into him analyzing our personalities and telling us that he had us all pegged, and that we have too much of whatever personality in our office...when it hit the 3 of us at once...we weren't alert at all that morning...we were still drunk.  When we finally broke for lunch the hangover had set in. Mary and Dave passed out on the couches in the suite, I tried to get something to eat, but think I may have thrown it back up...and then the blizzard started... We wrapped up early, got in our cars to drive back to Minnesota in a blizzard....and it was the most miserable ride of my life.  Not only did Sasquatch think he knew me, but I couldn't stop thinking about all the rum that was consumed the night before, giving me a raging headache...not to mention the crappy weather that turned a 5 hour drive into 8.

It was at that point that I realized, the only way we were going to deal with the consultant was if we all stuck together...I believe it was around that time that I knew the importance of my co workers for my sanity.  It was the start of a beautiful, liquor consuming, relationship. 

A cast of characters...

So here I am, out of college, thinking I'm big shit because I have an expense account, company car...and a real job.  Now, in the first job out of college, one expects certain things.  An etiquette if you will.  I experienced possibly the least professional work environment in my first year(s) of being out college...which probably has ruined me for life...but regardless, I wouldn't have it any other way.

In the world of college admissions, there tends to be a bit of a revolving door.  In the traditional undergraduate realm, a lot of recent college grads, get jobs in admissions because they can't seem to break the tie from their college years.  Where I worked, we all had Catholic guilt, and couldn't leave the job even if they insisted on paying us in peanuts and continuing to add to the work load.  I believe nearly our entire staff had graduated from the college....some all way back in the 1960's!!  No lie. 

My first year was awesome.  My college roomie was an admission counselor with me.  Mary is my sista from another mista.  We know what the other is thinking before it's even said...and when we were both in town, and stuck in the office, rarely did the clock hit 11:00am without one of us saying: "So...Happy Hour at Tequila's after work?"  We were at Happy Hour, if we were in town for the full week...I would venture to say 4 of the 5 work days.  There was much to be discussed over Mexican beer and margaritas. 

When Mary and I first started it was like watching a circus.  Our colleagues had worked with each other for so long, that their idiosyncrasies, had become like second nature, and as a newcomer to the office, we thought these people were bat shit crazy.  Let me explain the dynamics:  (for this particular segment I will be using fake names, as I'm not totally sure about how many people there read this, nor would I want to use their name and have them try to sue me.  Unlike others that just are attention whores, and love having their name mentioned in my blog.)  If I am leaving you out and you're reading this, you probably mean nothing to me.  Hahaha, just kidding...I just worked with some longer than others, that's all.  Love you long time.  Mind you, not all of these people were always there together, or at the same time, I was there for 6 years, so I saw some come and go, these are just the ones that stick out in my mind. 

*Candice: A woman set in her ways, sounds like she has smoked 3 packs a day, and has coughing fits like she has smoked that many since the age of 12.  At first she would go into this coughing fits and I would look around like, "Why is no one helping this woman?!"  But turns out, some of her potentially blackened lung would cough out, she'd slurp some water, and be back to good in no time. She has worked in every facet of the college, and was now going to spend her last years until retirement in the Admission Office...while she could scare the crap out of any freshman student worker, she was a teddy bear at heart. 
*Nicki: She was pregnant with her first child when I started, and wanted to tell us every single day about how the pregnancy was progressing.  I was 23, and could care less...but what was confusing at first about this gal, was that she would read the local paper OUT LOUD to us nearly every morning. Initially I would look around, and comment back to her, "No way!  Crazy townies!"  Until one day *Candice told me, she doesn't expect an answer, she's just reading willy nilly.  She was pregnant again not long after, and by the time I left that place a few years later,  I was hearing daily updates about her children's poop, vomit and other bodily functions/fluids.  While I was always on information overload, there's something I miss about those daily updates. 
*Keith: He had been in the office since I believe the mid 70's...I could be wrong about that..my memory is fading every day...He was raised in Joilet, Illinois is a unique mix of Italian and Polish..however, while raised in the midwest, you would think it was the east coast, and that Don Vito Corleone was his father.  He could quote anything from any of the Godfather movies, loved The Soprano's and here's my favorite part: His car was like Mary Poppin's carpet bag.  He was a regional rep for us, and would be back and forth to the Twin Cities on a weekly basis.  If you needed something and didn't want to run to the store, it was probably in his car.  Here is a small sampling: duct tape, hangers, towels, iron/ironing board, coffee maker, extension cords, various promotional materials from the school, so many suit coats, and dress shirts hooked to one hook in the car, that you were just sure it was going to break...and this was never proven, but he claimed he had it: A sawed off shot gun. 
*Jasmine: Now she was a real treat.  Every office has one.  The one that tells everyone she is just fine, and doesn't need help, but has her fingers in so many pies she can't see straight.  Delegation was not her strong suit.  She was notorious for stomping around, and not saying anything just sighing heavily wherever she went when she was busy.  Making copies?  (Big annoying sigh) Using the paper cutter?  (clearly I'm a big deal, I'm going to sigh and let people know I'm over extended!)  Initially I tried to help when I could because I noticed people were ignoring her...but then come to find out, that's just her M.O.  So by year 2, I had stopped noticing the sighs all together, and just knew that in no way, shape, or form did she want help, she just wanted us to know how busy she was.  And we all accepted that. 
*Shelly: Was notorious for pop culture.  If there was a new show, or movie, she was going to see it.  If I needed to know about what celeb was sleeping with who, she was just one short walk away to find out the details.  Generally speaking, I didn't even have to watch television shows, she was going to give me the entire summary the next day while getting my morning coffee and creamer.  Matter of fact, I've never even watched an episode of Glee, and I know who every character is, what their back ground story is, and who they're banging on the show.  Pretty useful gal to have around.  If I'm ever in an episode of Cash Cab, I hope I would be with her, she would dominate.
*Dave: Not changing his name because he's my brotha from another motha, and attention whore like myself.  Didn't graduate from our college, but a similar one in Iowa (don't judge him on that fact alone) so he was a natural fit at the school.  Which is probably why he was hired on 3 seperate occasions.  Yup, once while I was in school as a student, he quit...hired again while I was in my first year or two as an admission counselor, quit, and then helped a bit when a counselor left mid year.  You know the phrase, "he could sell a ketchup popsicle to a woman wearing white gloves"?  That was Dave.  You met him, loved him, and he could recruit any one to the school.  AND...he loved to give people shit.  If there's a hornet's nest, he would find it, poke it, and probably knock it down...and somehow in all the chaos, manage to not get stung. 
*Russ: This guy was classic.  He was Vietnam Vet, passionate about higher ed...and the most politically incorrect man there was.  He notoriously didn't know how to email or use any kind of modern day technology.  He shouted most of the time because his hearing was shot, and walked with a purpose like he was still hot on Charlie's tail.  He also had a stellar pair of Blue Blocker sun glasses, and before driving anywhere, would apply chapstick from his lips to his skin on his upper lip, just below his nose.  He took the job very seriously, and in the end, only wanted what was best for his students.
*Neil: (Again, no name change here, he's my brotha) For someone who was fresh out of college when he took the job, he had a beard like a 47 year old.  Full. On. Beard.  I offered to shave it many times when I was drunk...and sober, but he never took me up on it.  He was a newbie to the world of admissions, and I worked with him my last 2 years in the office.  At first I pegged him as a douche.  But turns out, he was just socially awkward, and waiting to find others in the office that were equally as tainted as he was.  Instead of taking notes during meetings, he would write down notes in haiku's. Which was impressive, because staff meetings tended to go on for hours and never get to a point, so I was surprised when he could condense so much of it into only 17 syllables. 
*Aubrey: (No name change, just my crazy girl, who after Mary left me to marry her college sweet heart, Aubrey became my voice of reason in a world of complete chaos) I've saved the best for last.  Aubrey is a teenage boys wet dream.  She is stick thin, blonde hair, big blue eyes, and totally gorgeous.  Has danced since the age of...some really young age...and still finds ways to dance.  I think she may be the oldest cheerleader/dancer in the La Crosse Wisconsin area!  Matter of fact, I picture her being 90, doing high kicks, and teasing boys.  This girl has spunk.  She got the job as visit coordinator to the office right out of college, and I immediately recruited her into our 'circle of trust' so we could have another alliance in the office.  She eats Taco Bell and McDonald's like it's her job, and over the years she and I would become close forming and shaping the student ambassador program.  She is completely inappropriate for the work place and without fail you can hear her burp half way across the office, and then she'll just look at you, like you're the crazy one.  We had many good times together...

As you can see, there were many characters in my work life those first few years after college...and there's some great stories that go along with them...marinate on all of these personalities being in one office together...and that is where we will begin next time..