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. :)
Monday, December 17, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Online Dating: Is Mr. Right out there?? On the internet??
Many of you have been asking for this particular blog entry for some time. I have been debating if I really want to get into it here. I am not Carrie Bradshaw, with her Sex & The City column, I am not a man hater, who wants to dish on what horrors men have put me through. I am 31, dead sexy, and as single as they get. As you may recall from an earlier blog this year, I had tried online dating for 4 whole days around Valentine's Day. After some sexually explicit messages, and pictures of men's junk, I was off the sight at the end of that week... With some prodding, a lot of liquor, and boredom... I decided to sign back up for the ol' dating website. This was in late March...and this time...I lasted 3 months!! Crazy huh? Now, I nearly lost it again, when all of the men still living with their mothers kept messaging me, but held on this time, just one penis picture, and slowly..some pretty major hotties started coming out of the wood work. Besides...I'm way too social to meet someone online, am I some kind of a social leper that I can't find a man offline?! Meh, what the hell, it will make for some good drinking stories at happy hour.
What is Megan Radke's type of gentleman caller you may ask. Well, up until this point I had been on single dates with all kinds of men. Different back grounds, different jobs, different heights... but I really didn't think I had a type. Until, my type slowly started to emerge. Turns out, I am hit with African American males. Or in some cases, African males... I'm equal opportunity, who am I to deny the masses that started practically beating down my pseudo door?! Here's why I discovered they are truly my type: They're not scared of a strong, independent, HILARIOUS woman, they find my voluptuousness sexy as hell, and when I'm out on the town, they never lack anything to say, their confidence is ridiculously attractive, and they look at me like I'm the only girl that matters. Now are their white men that do that, absolutely. Have I been out with them? Absolutely not. So... from March until late May, as I mentioned I had a MAJOR feeding frenzy on my hands. I was averaging 3 dates a week... and I was starting to get some of the names mixed up...and my poor friends, they coudn't keep it straight... So I had to just start calling them by their professions or something unique about them so my peeps (and me on occasion) could keep it straight. Here are some of the major players that have stood out in my online dating:
*The Metro Transit Bus Driver
*The Parole Officer
*The Mechanic (Who lived with his aunt, but looked like Taye Diggs, so I was willing to look past that)
*The IT guy
*The Accountant
*The Trainer for the Vikings (who happened to be a MAJOR douche)
*Hamline (Don't judge he's legal and got a late start in college, so it's totally okay that he's still working on his undergrad!)
*Manager of a call center
*High School Football Coach
*The Future Dentist
*The Nigerian
Now, there were a few more in between, but those were some of the major ones.
For you gentleman reading this, you may be wondering to yourself, how do you get yourself a sexy lady such as Megan E. Radke? Here are some do's and don'ts:
DON'T:
1.) Come to the date nearly 2 hours late. That will immediately make me irritated, and you will probably not get any Megan Radke behind that night...if you know what I mean ;)
2.) Lick my face. (This actually happened)
3.) Tell me to wait in my car in a Mexican Restuarant's parking lot, only to attempt to feel me up BEFORE a meal. I like to eat. Buy me a burrito, maybe an enchilada, and then you can feel up my sweater puppies. (This is an enjoyable story, ask me for details sometime over drinks, it's a doozie.)
4.) Tell me that you really like getting to know me, and you want to continue seeing me...but would prefer if I could pay a few of your bills every month. (I will laugh at you, and then immediately kick you out of my apartment.)
5.)Tell me your grandma died, and that you're having a break down in the parking lot..only to have me come out to the parking lot and you not be there...liar, liar, pants on fire. I will not reschedule a date with you when you stand me up.
6.) Act interested in me, meet my friends, get to know my life story, and then fall off the face of the earth and make me feel bad for caring about you.
DO:
1.) Be on time, or at least let me know if you're running late.
2.) Wear cologne. Men that smell good are a major bonus.
3.) Offer to get the bill. I never expect it...but when you just let the bill sit there, it makes me feel weird. I am more than okay with going halfsies.
4.) Be honest. I'll never be mad at anyone who tells me the truth.
As you may recall, I mentioned in that Valentine's post, that I was worried I may never be able to have feelings for someone because I had given so much love to that one person so many years ago. While I was far from in love with this particular indivdual, I did see glimmers of being able to care for someone on an intimate level again. I'm hoping to see this person again as he was the best date(s) I went on. He was funny, brilliant, gave me shit, and from what I could tell, not afraid to put me in my place. And let's face it...If I'm going to have any hopes at a successful relationship, they will need to be just a smidge tainted...and be able to tell me off. :) Currently, I'm not sure where I stand with this gentleman caller, for all I know he had his fill of me and is onto other women (Which I'm sure would pale in comparison to me!) but in my heart of hearts, I have to believe he'll call me again. So kids, moral of the story is: Internet dating is not for those lacking intestinal fortitude. BUT if you play your cards right, you'll meet some nice guys, and have plenty of stories for happy hour. :)
What is Megan Radke's type of gentleman caller you may ask. Well, up until this point I had been on single dates with all kinds of men. Different back grounds, different jobs, different heights... but I really didn't think I had a type. Until, my type slowly started to emerge. Turns out, I am hit with African American males. Or in some cases, African males... I'm equal opportunity, who am I to deny the masses that started practically beating down my pseudo door?! Here's why I discovered they are truly my type: They're not scared of a strong, independent, HILARIOUS woman, they find my voluptuousness sexy as hell, and when I'm out on the town, they never lack anything to say, their confidence is ridiculously attractive, and they look at me like I'm the only girl that matters. Now are their white men that do that, absolutely. Have I been out with them? Absolutely not. So... from March until late May, as I mentioned I had a MAJOR feeding frenzy on my hands. I was averaging 3 dates a week... and I was starting to get some of the names mixed up...and my poor friends, they coudn't keep it straight... So I had to just start calling them by their professions or something unique about them so my peeps (and me on occasion) could keep it straight. Here are some of the major players that have stood out in my online dating:
*The Metro Transit Bus Driver
*The Parole Officer
*The Mechanic (Who lived with his aunt, but looked like Taye Diggs, so I was willing to look past that)
*The IT guy
*The Accountant
*The Trainer for the Vikings (who happened to be a MAJOR douche)
*Hamline (Don't judge he's legal and got a late start in college, so it's totally okay that he's still working on his undergrad!)
*Manager of a call center
*High School Football Coach
*The Future Dentist
*The Nigerian
Now, there were a few more in between, but those were some of the major ones.
For you gentleman reading this, you may be wondering to yourself, how do you get yourself a sexy lady such as Megan E. Radke? Here are some do's and don'ts:
DON'T:
1.) Come to the date nearly 2 hours late. That will immediately make me irritated, and you will probably not get any Megan Radke behind that night...if you know what I mean ;)
2.) Lick my face. (This actually happened)
3.) Tell me to wait in my car in a Mexican Restuarant's parking lot, only to attempt to feel me up BEFORE a meal. I like to eat. Buy me a burrito, maybe an enchilada, and then you can feel up my sweater puppies. (This is an enjoyable story, ask me for details sometime over drinks, it's a doozie.)
4.) Tell me that you really like getting to know me, and you want to continue seeing me...but would prefer if I could pay a few of your bills every month. (I will laugh at you, and then immediately kick you out of my apartment.)
5.)Tell me your grandma died, and that you're having a break down in the parking lot..only to have me come out to the parking lot and you not be there...liar, liar, pants on fire. I will not reschedule a date with you when you stand me up.
6.) Act interested in me, meet my friends, get to know my life story, and then fall off the face of the earth and make me feel bad for caring about you.
DO:
1.) Be on time, or at least let me know if you're running late.
2.) Wear cologne. Men that smell good are a major bonus.
3.) Offer to get the bill. I never expect it...but when you just let the bill sit there, it makes me feel weird. I am more than okay with going halfsies.
4.) Be honest. I'll never be mad at anyone who tells me the truth.
As you may recall, I mentioned in that Valentine's post, that I was worried I may never be able to have feelings for someone because I had given so much love to that one person so many years ago. While I was far from in love with this particular indivdual, I did see glimmers of being able to care for someone on an intimate level again. I'm hoping to see this person again as he was the best date(s) I went on. He was funny, brilliant, gave me shit, and from what I could tell, not afraid to put me in my place. And let's face it...If I'm going to have any hopes at a successful relationship, they will need to be just a smidge tainted...and be able to tell me off. :) Currently, I'm not sure where I stand with this gentleman caller, for all I know he had his fill of me and is onto other women (Which I'm sure would pale in comparison to me!) but in my heart of hearts, I have to believe he'll call me again. So kids, moral of the story is: Internet dating is not for those lacking intestinal fortitude. BUT if you play your cards right, you'll meet some nice guys, and have plenty of stories for happy hour. :)
Monday, August 13, 2012
Mormons. Friend or Foe?
Okay, okay, I know... I have been a little lazy in writing lately. For that I apologize. The summer has just been whizzing by...and with summer get togethers, BBQ's, and general life chaos, this lil' blog got swept under the rug. BUT, as I mentioned before. Where do I take it from here? So, I figured from here on out, since you're up to date on the life of me... I'll just start writing about different stories, and thoughts I have...and per usual, you will just need to deal with it.
Up until the spring of 2011 I never, really, knew any Mormons. I feel like in high school, I maybe knew one... but that is even questionable. Here is what I 'knew' in my mind.
1. Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses are the same thing.
2. When you see them coming down the street to your home, shut all doors, windows, turn off the tv, lay on the ground. My dear, sweet Mother taught me this maneuver.
3. No matter how persistent they are on the doorbell or with knocking, DO NOT, under and circumstances, open the door. Stay still, like you're dead, and remain on the floor. (You can imagine this was challenging after Einstein came to the Radke house.)
4. They're crazy and just want to convert you, at any cost to their religion.
5. Bill Paxton, in Big Love, kind of made me want to be Mormon.
6. These are the people that dress weird and have their kids married off by the time their 15 right? Like the Amish, only they have electricity, and they don't make quilts and candy??
As you may have guessed, those things that I 'knew' about Mormons... were completely wrong.
On week two of my new job in the cities, I was chatting with one of my co workers, trying to figure out everyone at the new place. I was not prepared for what my co worker would say next, 'Then there's Matt, he's Mormon'. Whoa, wait a minute, you back the fun train up a few notches. Did you just say he's MORMON?! I was just getting ready to say, I'm obsessed with Big Love on HBO!! When in her next breath my co worker said, 'And no matter what you do, don't say you like Big Love...' Crap. There went any common ground we had.
Upon closer inspection of 'The Mormon' he seemed so normal... Aside from the fact that he wanted to talk like Ace Venture on a daily basis, and had way too many awards in his cube... I thought I could actually like him.... But, one had to be careful, at any point he was going to try to convert me! I walked on egg shells, until one day in a staff meeting I made a wise crack about mediocrity. I didn't realize it at the time, but he thought it was hilarious, and sent me a link to witty medicrity 'non inspirational' posters. He has a sense of humor?? Interesting...
I started noticing little things, like he NEVER swore. 'Gosh darn it', was about as crazy as he got. I also started noticing he didn't know when we were quoting movies that had anything over a PG-13 rating... HOWEVER, what was so refreshing, is that he never once looked at me strange, or disapprovingly as I would let loose a string of curse words that would make a sailor blush. That's when I started getting curious about the ol' Mormon religion. I had never really seen one close up before, it was like seeing a zebra outside of the zoo walls. I had questions about a few things, and by God...Or Joseph Smith, if you will, I was going to find out about it!
We started occasionally having lunch together. Or as I liked to call it: Breaking Bread with Mormon. He was always more than happy to answer my questions, and never once, insisted I become a Mormon. Before I knew it, I was invited over to his home for dinner one night...and the best surprise of all came. I was having dinner with Mormon missionaries! You know, the cute lil' guys and gals that come around to the doors that I used to hide from?! I was actually going to meet them! What did they do all day?! How long do they have to ride their little bikes around for? What was a 21 year old, extremely good looking young man , from the South Pacific doing in St. Paul? And more importantly, if I converted to Mormonism...could we be married immediately?
To say I was a bit much for the sweet, innocent, pure, missionaries... may be an understatement. But they patiently answered all of my questions: When do you get up? Where do you eat? Do you have to ride your bike even if it rains? Are you guys BFF's after you do this whole missionary thing? What did you do today? Do your parents miss you terribly since you're gone for over a year? Will you marry me? ...You guys have a prophet... Could Matt be the prophet someday?
So after talking with REAL Mormons, let's see if the things I originally knew are accurate.
1. Negative. Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses... VERY different. Both send their peeps out to share in their beliefs...but that's where it ends.
2. Mormons just want to share their faith with you. Now, occasinally, you'll get an overzealous one that may be a smidge pushy. But keep in mind, they get the door slammed in their face a lot. They are just excited to talk with someone. Offer them some lemonade and have a chat, they will not be doing any animal sacrifices to get you to convert...at least not on the first meeting. :)
3. See above.
4. Again see above, they just get excited when you ask questions, it shows you are interested in their faith... of course they do get a signing bonus when they convert someone. Just kidding Matt! Just kidding. (He's reading this now and is probably cursing me...as much as he can anyway.)
5. Big Love, while entertaining for the obnoxious story line, and hot sex, probably not where I should have gotten most of my Mormon knowledge from.
6. Matt and his wife are some of the hippest dressers I know! Again, something HBO, may have put in my head..
So, after months of deliberation, many meals at Matt's home, enjoying his wife's food, I came to this conclusion. Mormons are no crazier than the rest of us. On some topics, they may even be onto something. And more importantly, when I see the cute lil' missionaries come to the door, I don't hide any more. I spew out everything I know about Mormon's...the way I have it figured..I should have a new Mormon boyfriend in the next year or so. ;)
Want to really learn more about Mormon goodness, check out their legit website...Probably a little more accurate than my ramblings: http://mormon.org/
Up until the spring of 2011 I never, really, knew any Mormons. I feel like in high school, I maybe knew one... but that is even questionable. Here is what I 'knew' in my mind.
1. Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses are the same thing.
2. When you see them coming down the street to your home, shut all doors, windows, turn off the tv, lay on the ground. My dear, sweet Mother taught me this maneuver.
3. No matter how persistent they are on the doorbell or with knocking, DO NOT, under and circumstances, open the door. Stay still, like you're dead, and remain on the floor. (You can imagine this was challenging after Einstein came to the Radke house.)
4. They're crazy and just want to convert you, at any cost to their religion.
5. Bill Paxton, in Big Love, kind of made me want to be Mormon.
6. These are the people that dress weird and have their kids married off by the time their 15 right? Like the Amish, only they have electricity, and they don't make quilts and candy??
As you may have guessed, those things that I 'knew' about Mormons... were completely wrong.
On week two of my new job in the cities, I was chatting with one of my co workers, trying to figure out everyone at the new place. I was not prepared for what my co worker would say next, 'Then there's Matt, he's Mormon'. Whoa, wait a minute, you back the fun train up a few notches. Did you just say he's MORMON?! I was just getting ready to say, I'm obsessed with Big Love on HBO!! When in her next breath my co worker said, 'And no matter what you do, don't say you like Big Love...' Crap. There went any common ground we had.
Upon closer inspection of 'The Mormon' he seemed so normal... Aside from the fact that he wanted to talk like Ace Venture on a daily basis, and had way too many awards in his cube... I thought I could actually like him.... But, one had to be careful, at any point he was going to try to convert me! I walked on egg shells, until one day in a staff meeting I made a wise crack about mediocrity. I didn't realize it at the time, but he thought it was hilarious, and sent me a link to witty medicrity 'non inspirational' posters. He has a sense of humor?? Interesting...
I started noticing little things, like he NEVER swore. 'Gosh darn it', was about as crazy as he got. I also started noticing he didn't know when we were quoting movies that had anything over a PG-13 rating... HOWEVER, what was so refreshing, is that he never once looked at me strange, or disapprovingly as I would let loose a string of curse words that would make a sailor blush. That's when I started getting curious about the ol' Mormon religion. I had never really seen one close up before, it was like seeing a zebra outside of the zoo walls. I had questions about a few things, and by God...Or Joseph Smith, if you will, I was going to find out about it!
We started occasionally having lunch together. Or as I liked to call it: Breaking Bread with Mormon. He was always more than happy to answer my questions, and never once, insisted I become a Mormon. Before I knew it, I was invited over to his home for dinner one night...and the best surprise of all came. I was having dinner with Mormon missionaries! You know, the cute lil' guys and gals that come around to the doors that I used to hide from?! I was actually going to meet them! What did they do all day?! How long do they have to ride their little bikes around for? What was a 21 year old, extremely good looking young man , from the South Pacific doing in St. Paul? And more importantly, if I converted to Mormonism...could we be married immediately?
To say I was a bit much for the sweet, innocent, pure, missionaries... may be an understatement. But they patiently answered all of my questions: When do you get up? Where do you eat? Do you have to ride your bike even if it rains? Are you guys BFF's after you do this whole missionary thing? What did you do today? Do your parents miss you terribly since you're gone for over a year? Will you marry me? ...You guys have a prophet... Could Matt be the prophet someday?
So after talking with REAL Mormons, let's see if the things I originally knew are accurate.
1. Negative. Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses... VERY different. Both send their peeps out to share in their beliefs...but that's where it ends.
2. Mormons just want to share their faith with you. Now, occasinally, you'll get an overzealous one that may be a smidge pushy. But keep in mind, they get the door slammed in their face a lot. They are just excited to talk with someone. Offer them some lemonade and have a chat, they will not be doing any animal sacrifices to get you to convert...at least not on the first meeting. :)
3. See above.
4. Again see above, they just get excited when you ask questions, it shows you are interested in their faith... of course they do get a signing bonus when they convert someone. Just kidding Matt! Just kidding. (He's reading this now and is probably cursing me...as much as he can anyway.)
5. Big Love, while entertaining for the obnoxious story line, and hot sex, probably not where I should have gotten most of my Mormon knowledge from.
6. Matt and his wife are some of the hippest dressers I know! Again, something HBO, may have put in my head..
So, after months of deliberation, many meals at Matt's home, enjoying his wife's food, I came to this conclusion. Mormons are no crazier than the rest of us. On some topics, they may even be onto something. And more importantly, when I see the cute lil' missionaries come to the door, I don't hide any more. I spew out everything I know about Mormon's...the way I have it figured..I should have a new Mormon boyfriend in the next year or so. ;)
Want to really learn more about Mormon goodness, check out their legit website...Probably a little more accurate than my ramblings: http://mormon.org/
Monday, June 11, 2012
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. :)
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. :)
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, May 14, 2012
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…
Sunday, April 29, 2012
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.
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.
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