Mother's Day, a history lesson... sort of

Hello my darlings,

Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms on my list!  You have an incredibly tough job, one that I was not willing to take on (once again, you are all quite welcome that I didn't perpetuate this genetic mess further) and I laud you.  I've spent enough time with most of you to know there are far too many times the little devil spawn(s) that erupted from your bodies act like free-loading little ingrates that view you as little more than a walking nuisance, or possibly a limitless ATM.  In honor of Mother's Day I want to recognize and personally show my appreciation for the blood, sweat and tears required to raise children.  

I decided to start this tribute with a brief history lesson.  The all powerful, and never wrong wikipedia, indicates that Mother's Day was a celebration to the mother goddess Juno.  Sorry, to say, but it sounds like this bitch was a little whackadoodle,  "She is a daughter of Saturn and sister (but also the wife) of the chief god Jupiter and the mother of Mars and Vulcan."  WHOA!  We created a holiday to honor mom after a goddess that married her brother.  DUDE!  I think maybe we should have dug a little deeper into the annals of history to find someone a little less pervy for a woman that shot a small human out her hoo-haw, but that didn't happen, so congrat Mom, you are being honored by a bit of a sicko.  

OK, that history lesson didn't go quite as I'd planned, but since I referred to your children as "devil spawns" and "free-loading little ingrates" it's probably not too far off the message that I would have delivered anyway, so I'll continue.  Please don't treat this as a comparison in any way.   I definitely am NOT saying that any of you did, or even considered, marrying your brother, I am just reporting the facts that Wikipedia presented.  FWIW, there was also a reference to the goddess Cybele "....her most celebrated Greek rites and processions show her as an essentially foreign, exotic mystery-goddess who arrives in a lion-drawn chariot to the accompaniment of wild music, wine, and a disorderly, ecstatic following"  You GO GIRL!  She sounds way more my style than that brother-marrying sicko.  This kind of goddess makes me want to pop out a kid or two.  Bring on my lion-drawn chariot, I gots my wine and this bitch is ready to party!  Sorry, I got carried away, after all this post is meant to honor of the women who actually chose to procreate and not about my lion-drawn chariot fantasy.   

Seriously, enough about the history lesson gone awry, what I am here to do is honor the fabulous women that brought other humans onto this planet.  That's a pretty damn big deal in my book.  Motherhood, clearly is a very thankless job.  You love and adore your children, you do you best to help them grow into mature, kind, responsible adults.  They repay your generosity by growing up to be resentful jackasses telling their therapist what a horrible, psycho-bitch you were and how they are f*d up adults that can't get a job and move out of your basement because you didn't hug them enough as babies.  

SHIT, once again this seems to be going off track.  OK, I've got this.  Honoring mom....  Deep cleansing breath.......

Moms! You are all amazing and beautiful and you do so much for your kids and for your families, which is likely because that guy you married, who is definitely NOT your brother, is lying on the couch fondling his manbits while you are keeping the household running.  

GAH!  I did it again.... I think maybe I am a little too jaded to compose any flowery prose about the joys of motherhood, so I will wrap this shitshow up.  Moms, I really don't know how, and some days based on the stories you tell, WHY you do it, but you do.  I'm sure as you analyze your performance as a mother there are days you think you are failing miserably, but I assure you that you are not.  Your kids are going to grow up to think and do for themselves, which includes a lot of decisions that you might not understand or appreciate, but rest assured, somewhere deep inside their warped little brains they heard you and they remember the lessons that you taught them.  They are likely going to roll their eyes at you and do whatever they damn well please, but just know that they heard it.  

Happy Mother's Day to my fabulous beautiful moms!  Love you all!!!!!

Until next time...

XOXO

PS - I received a $1 Zillion dollar check for my "Keep Wyoming Out" wall. Trump doesn't have a Zillion dollars for his wall, so clearly I would be a better president.  Now, I know there are some of you trying to toss around the logic that one zillion isn't actually a real number and the the check isn't actually legal tender, but seriously Fuck Facts!  I have a piece of paper that looks like a check for one zillion dollars are you don't! Nee-ner-nee-ner-neeeeeee-ner!  

PPS - If I've learned anything in the 100+ days of the Trump administration I've learned that "fuck facts" and actually saying things, in my out loud voice like "Nee-ner-nee-ner-neeeeeee-ner!" are VERY presidential!

PPPS - The amazing internets also informed me that Mother's Day was commissioned by President Woodrow Wilson in 1914.  Thanks Woody!

Fences and neighbors...

Hello my darlings,

This is a call to action!  The state of Colorado NEEDS your help!!!!  I've spent a significant amount of time on I25 this week and this experience has driven me to launch a Trump-like campaign to build a fence, or a wall, or at least a giant gate.  Now I'm not talking about that Mexico border wall nonsense, I mean seriously if we are going to go to that effort, why don't we at least sweeten the deal and give Mexico the state of Texas.  I'm even willing to throw in Oklahoma, if that helps.  No, the wall that I want is at the Wyoming border.  I know you've all experienced this.  Your are cruising down I25, traffic is moving everyone is behaving then all of the sudden the left lane comes to an abrupt stop.  In my experience, at least 90% of the time, this slow down is a direct result of some jackhole with a Wyoming license plate, putzing along about 60 miles per hour in the left lane.  If we can build a wall and keep those people off of I25 then traffic is going to get much better.  Now I am not proposing that we wall off the whole state.  Wyomingites can still go to Nebraska, I mean seriously, I don't want to go to Nebraska, so I don't care how badly they drive there.  Well, and if I'm being honest there are a lot of Nebraska drivers that seem to have challenges locating the accelerator and the turn indicators, but I digress.  Until we can widen I25, and/or implement rail service to Fort Collins keeping Wyoming drivers off the road is really the best solution.  If building a wall is too extreme, can we at least change the sign at the border to say "Wyoming keep right!"  teehee

You may be asking why I've been spending so much time on I25.  Sadly, this is a story about the oldies.  Ray's 99-year old father was moved to hospice on Sunday.  Yesterday, I talked to the RN caring for him and she said that his body is shutting down, his kidneys are failing and the end is eminent.  My heart aches for Joyce.  Losing her son and her husband within 5 months is a incredibly devastating amount of loss.  I'm not honestly sure how the strongest person would cope with all of that and Joyce most definitely is NOT the strongest woman I've ever met.  I've spent a lot of time with her this week and she seems to be coping with Ray's death finally, but I am very concerned about how the old man's departure will affect her.  This situation also means that Hurricane Grace is blowing back in.   Yiipppeeeee! They should arrive late today.  I can't wait to see (and share) the drama that will unfold as a result of her presence.  F*mylife!

Please direct all contributions to the "Keep Wyoming Out Fund, c/o Ronda Chadwick" and send checks directly to me!  hahahahahahahaha

Until next time....

XOXO

Effing Flamingos

Vegas jails are the BOMB!  I had no clue how posh life in the big house could be.  

Ok, so I didn't actually see the inside or even the outside of a Vegas jail.  We had a great time, but crappy navigation skills coupled with the maddening maze that is EVERY Vegas casino mixed with a few cocktails, meant we spent a significant amount of time in, on or around the Flamingo.  That would have been great if we were staying at the f*ing Flamingo, but we weren't.  We weren't staying anywhere near the Flamingo.  We were staying at a Marriott off the strip, past Planet Hollywood.  

Our first Flamingo adventure was in search of a bar.  Shocking isn't it!  Joie couldn't remember the name of the bar, but thought she knew how to get there.  Our first pass took us past the Flamingo, into the Venetian and through the Palazzo only to realize that the bar she wanted was, yep, you guessed it behind the Flamingo.  Once we found the bar and ate some dinner we decided to take the Monorail back to our hotel.   We got on the Monorail at the Flamingo and rode to the end of the line, the MGM, but then in our state of slight inebriation and extreme exhaustion we decided that we'd gone to far, so we got on the northbound line and rode back to the Paris/Bally's stop.  There we took a wrong turn in the Casino and once again found ourselves at the Flamingo.  We gave up and walked back from there.  The next day we realized that the MGM stop was only four blocks from our hotel.  Damn you cute little pink Flamingos!!!

Since we were celebrating Joie's son's birthday we agreed to go see the show he wanted to see.  He's a boy, so he opted for Chris Angel Mindfreak, at 9:30pm. It's important to note that we had an 8am flight, so we were all up early, me because I don't sleep well in general and the rest of the gang because they drove to the airport from Fort Collins.  I'm not going to go into details other than to encourage all of you to SKIP any and every Chris Angel show you might stumble across.  It was overly theatrical and included a significant number of of scantily clad, gyrating women for no apparent reason other than to distract from the idiocy happening on stage.  At one point in the show Joie actually woke me up because she was afraid he'd involve us in his shenanigans if he saw me sleeping. It sucked!  I hated it!  I was lobbying for Puppetry of the Penis, because that shit sounds sophomoric and hilarious.  I lost!  

The next day Joie and I left the 21-years olds to lounge by the pool while we walked. We took the Monorail, from the newly discovered, incredibly close, MGM stop to the Stratosphere then we walked to Fremont St.  That was an interesting (read terrifying) walk.  We saw bums and hookers and strip clubs and bums and homeless people, and....  I think you get the point.  During this adventure we also saw about 300 wedding chapels, each with a pink Cadillac and a few with actual people at them.  Surprisingly, Joie and I both resisted the urge to drag the women away by their hair screaming "Don't do it - you're going to regret it!"  Our arrival at Fremont St. was pretty innocuous.   We just walked around until we found a brewery to our liking, aka OPEN!  We both set the bar pretty high on that one.  That night we enjoyed an incredible meal at Carnevino.  On Monday we went to the outlet malls, the kids shopped, Joie and I walked.  That night the kids went out partying, they got back to the hotel sometime around 5:00am.  While they were visiting strip clubs and gambling Joie and I spent the evening enjoying a drink at the rooftop bar and were in bed at 9PM.  The flight back was uneventful.  I was worried about Joie sitting with the kids that were still somewhat drunk, but fading quickly into painfully hungover, but no one lost their breakfast and everyone arrived home safe and sound.  

Overall it was a lot of fun.  People watching in Vegas is truly extraordinary and the fashion decisions in Vegas are a sight to be seen, actually many of the fashion decisions in Vegas make you wish you could unsee!  After this trip I won't say that I HATE Vegas, but I still don't like it.  I'm planning to make this my last trip to Vegas for a very long time.

Until next time...

XOXO 

Let's talk passion, shall we.....

Hello my lovelies,

Today I am changing things up a bit.  I'm not going to rant about hipsters or about nonsense from recent travels. I'm not going to complain about my neighbors or the construction workers that hoot and holler at the cute, barely-dressed 20-somethings when they walk by.  I'm not going to bitch about the obscenely short shorts (that inspire the catcalls) or the camisoles, that would be lovely if it was paired with a damn sweater already, but are a little too revealing as a shirt.  I'm not even going to whine about how these asshat children around me won't pick up their damn dog's poop even though it infuriates me that they don't pick up their dog's poop!  NOPE!  I'm not doing that!  Today I am going to rant about an email that was supposed to be motivational, but with my broken brain, sent me into a downward spiral.  I am doing this because I bet many of you can relate and if you can't, then just consider this proof positive that I am one seriously crazy bitch!  

I should warn you that I've had A LOT of time in my own head recently.  Seriously A L O T of time!  Me, in my head, is a very dangerous thing.    My estate checklists are all nearly complete.  (SIDEBAR: The final hurdle is Fidelity getting the "blessing" from Agilent to pay out the 401K and pension.  If Agilent Legal says that we were married, then it's mine, if not, well, then I'm not sure, but it probably means lawyers.  GAH!)  Without my to do lists, I am running out of ways to distract myself, which means I spend a lot of time thinking.  I think about the past, I think about all of the stupid, terrible, embarrassing things I've done and said over the years.  I think about "the good times" and about the not-so-good times.  Hell, I even think about the completely mediocre days when nothing good or bad happened.  I think about when I was that poor, little, white-trash girl from Northeastern Colorado and how I've spent countless hours/weeks/years trying to prove to myself and everyone around me that I am not that girl anymore.  I'm not that girl anymore!  I'm not ...or maybe I actually am.   I really don't have a clue!  Then today I get an email that challenged me to answer the following questions: 

Full disclosure - There were other questions on the list, but they were all equally as ridiculous, so I abbreviated it.

• Do you know what you are passionate about?
• Can you envision a job or career that would light your fire?
• Are you too old?
• Are you successfully managing your priorities - kids, family, work, etc.?

Here are my answers:

• I don't have a F*ing clue what I am "passionate about" and frankly I'm not even sure I actually know what that means, so please STOP ASKING!
• Light my fire?  Short of launching a career as an arsonist I am not really sure what "fire" you want me to light, but I am a big fan of paychecks, so I think I will work on getting me a few of those bad boys again soon!
• Too old for what?  I'm too old (and too fat and too lazy and with absolutely zero skills) to be a world-class gymnast, but I'm not old enough to qualify to get into one of those posh 55+ retirement communities, so what exactly am I supposed to be concerned about being too old for?
• YES!  I have no kids (you are all quite welcome that I chose to not procreate!) I have NO relationship with my family and I am unemployed!  Pretty much sounds to me like I am rockin the shit out of this question.  BOOM!

OK, sooooo maybe, I missed the point on the last question.  Perhaps the fact that I am thinking about, pondering, dwelling upon, obsessing over and ruminating around these questions and the fact that this stupid email got me so riled up means that I am failing miserably at all of this.  I know this makes me sound like a complete failure right now, but I have no idea what my goals are.  For most of the last five months I've been focusing on getting items crossed off my list.  Recently, there have been a few days that pretty much all I have the energy to focus on is getting my ass out of bed and brushing my teeth.  Now as I am seriously looking for a job and thinking about interview questions I am going to have to answer, I feel like I probably need to come up with something for the ridiculous, completely meaningless, interview question "where do you see yourself in five years?"  Somehow I don't think "Bitch please! Five months ago I didn't envision being where I am now, how in the hell am I supposed to see five YEARS into the future....." is actually going to score me any points or help me acquire paychecks.  

GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I need to get out of my broken head!

On a less happy note, I got an oldies update this week.  Sadly, but for the best, Joyce has now realized she cannot take care of the old man at home.  Yesterday, Al and Grace came back to Colorado and helped move them into an assisted living facility.  I got a text from Joyce this morning that as of 7:30 last night they were transported to the hospital because the old man, now officially 99-years old, has pneumonia.  I offered to drive up there to see them today, but she asked me to wait until next week after they get settled.   I hope that's not too late...  I really don't think I can handle anything more right now! 

Until next time...

XOXO

PS - Tomorrow I am off to Vegas to chaperon Joie, while she chaperons her son and he chaperons his girlfriend.  Rest assured that what happens in Vegas will most likely end up in coffee and possibly on Instagram.  

PPS - I'm serious about the Instagram nonsense.  Joie convinced me to sign-up.  My profile is completely private, so you have to request to connect with me and if I deem you worthy you are in my cool-kid club!  My new handle (FWIW that is a trucker reference paying homage to my jackass brother-in-law that wanted the family members to call them by their trucker handles (Phantom 309 and Mama Teddy Bear) rather than their names.  I refused!)  is "Chadderbox13"  I don't promise anything spectacular, or even frequent, but I have it is now, so we will see where it goes from here.

PPPS - not kidding about the trucker handles.  He seriously asked at a Thanksgiving dinner, probably 20-years or so ago, that we all call them by their handles instead of their names.  Phantom309 is Floyd and Mama Teddy Bear is Susan.  GOD I wish that was a joke, but if you were doubting any part of the white-trash reference above, that should remove all doubt.  F*MYLIFE!

XOXO

R

Oh Spain, you had me at Sangria....

The trip to Barcelona was fabulous, but I am delighted that I am officially en route home.  I'm ready to take a hot shower (with good water pressure) and generally appreciate that the majority of people around me will once again be speaking my native tongue.  I will admit I was feeling a bit  forlorn the first day or so, but once I got moving I was back to feeling and acting like myself.  The highlights of the trip included a 31,000 step day walking, exploring and hiking, my first ever soccer match and a Spanish cooking class.  

I have loads of stories to share, but most are better told than written.  I also have lots of pictures, but those too are happening another day.  Here are a few of the highs and a few lows from the trip.

Things I loved about Barcelona:

1. The weather was amazing! It was warm and sunny but not overly hot
2. The architecture is fascinating.  The city has evolved over centuries and the dichotomy of old and new is stunning.
3. Soccer at Camp Nou, the massive 100,000 seat FC Barcelona stadium.  Truly the most amazing, vibrant display of sportsmanship I've ever witnessed.   Fans were cheering and singing the whole time.  In fact, the singing started at the Metro station on the way to the stadium.  It was a very cool experience!
4. Walking and hiking less popular tourist sites outside of the city center.  I walked nearly 14 miles on Friday visiting parks and gardens and museums.  I ended the day with a hike up mount Tibidabo to glimpse a spectacular view of the city.
5. Witnessing the Good Friday parade of sorts.  I can't even describe this with words. I'll try to post the video later
6. Spanish cooking class.  We made Paella and Sangria.  Oh Spain, you had me at Sangria...
7. The impromptu walking tour of El Born by the bouncer at a bar who happened to very much resemble a hobbit.  He went to the soccer game with me as my translator and navigator.  Seriously, the dude looked like a hobbit.  I don't know why I didn't take a picture of/with him.  Drat!!!!
8. Travelling alone!  There were a lot of times in Barcelona where I would have loved to have a traveling companion to experience everything with, but the actual travel part, getting to and through airports, is awesome alone.  I get to do everything my way on my schedule.  Turns out I'm pretty great at being a spoiled brat!  
9. The fun, friendly bar staff at Stoke and Travel Bar!  I met amazing people, some that were working and many that were fellow travelers.  Top of the list is Wendy, the bartender/owner of Stoke, Gucci, my hobbit tour leader/translator/soccer pal, Mickel, the gay German parade witness, Peter, the recent divorcee from the cooking class, Erin, the hilarious, self-proclaimed Asshole from Charlotte, NC
10. Watching the street performers.  

Things I didn't love so much...

1.  My crappy Spanish skills.  Most people speak at least some English, but knowing Spanish would have been very advantageous.  I do know that Catalan is the official dialect of Barcelona and the Colonia region, but everyone also speaks Spanish.
2. My even crappier navigation skills.  I got lost trying to find my hotel every day.  The city center is a maze of narrow alleyways and just when I thought I had it figured out I'd make a wrong turn and end up in a square.  It was maddening.
3. The crowds of tourists.  The 100,000 people on the way to and from the soccer stadium was nothing, the hordes of tourists gawking at trinkets and shouting in every language under the sun were making me crazy.
4. Dogs on retractable leashes.  Many of the asshat tourists from #3 also had dogs on this damn retractable leashes.  I hate those f*ing things.
5. The food.  Sadly, much of the food was disappointing.  A few exceptions were the Iberian ham, the olives and the lamb tapas dishes

Looky there, more good than bad.  It truly was a great trip, but I can't wait to sleep in my own bed tonight  

until next time...

XOXO

International Delight - Part 2

I did the tourist thing today and rode a sightseeing tour around the entire city.  The architecture is extraordinary, the landscape is breathtaking and the tourists are a-holes. In other words pretty much same shit different city.  The bus helped me hon in on a few things I want to see more thoroughly. With this being holy week and my trip a short one, I won't be able to visit many of the churches.  Then again, I don't make it a habit of visiting churches during less holy weeks, so I probably don't need to start that here, or now. 

I have to admit that traveling solo is lonely.  Few restaurants have actual bars that you can sit at to eat, so I'm forced to ask for a table for one and they inevitably seat me in a busy section. Last night I got to eat my paella amongst large tables of families and two tables of soccer players. Fortunately, the Real Madrid vs Bayern Munich game was on and in soccer crazy Spain everyone was focused on that. 

In lieu of being able to be a barfly at dinner I found one great little bar, with a small tapas menu and a fantastic bartender that speaks fluent Catlan, Spanish and English.  After a day of touristing around, it was great to sit down with a cold beer and have a conversation. I've barely spoken today, other than to say excuse me, as I was attempting to battle my way down an incredibly crowded Las Ramblas today.

Tomorrow I'm checking out attractions, Saturday I'm planning to rent a bike and ride to as many of the five beaches as I can and Sunday is still up in the air.  A lot of things are closed on Sundays normally and this Sunday is Easter, so I've been told that there will be a limited set of options. My only hope is that it keeps many of the people in too. I could really do with smaller crowds. 

Until next time...

XOXO