Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Dead Horse

I posted this in a note on facebook (or was it myspace? gasp!) back in August of 2008 and I feel it bears repeating:

You can't beat a dead horse
-So go ahead and pick up the shovel
I wish I had realized this a long time ago. You can't fix people, you can't change people. The only person that you can work on is yourself.

Life gets crappy, but it stays crappy only if you let it. If it's people who are making your life crappy, don't wait around wasting your time and energy trying to make them stop. Just go do your own thing.

People lie, some lie big, some lie small. If you find yourself around those who lie big, just let them lie to themselves - they aren't worth your time.
When it comes to fixing people, if at first you don't succeed, just give up.
Why am I writing this? Because people like to beat dead horses, I have done it, you probably know someone who has done it too.
Fair weather friends, shitty relationships, weird family situations, every once in a while we are faced with a "dead horse" and by thinking that we are helping out, we beat them, we try to talk them into going a different way, try talking them into being nicer, or my favorite - hoping they will be smarter. We try to give advice, we try to give money, or other material things. We just know that if they change everyone will be better off.
And that is correct, in most cases we would be better off if we could fix them. But some people don't want to be fixed.

And if they act like they want to be rescued, it is only a matter of time before they are broken once again.
So quit beating your dead horses, just pick up the shovel, and bury their asses, and then start living your life for you, because at the end of the day the battle is with yourself. And if your dead horses give a shit about you, or themselves, they will dig right out of that hole on their own.

Thursday, March 10, 2011


I think I have talked about this somewhere... Ah yes somewhere in here. You can see that my dad has a lot of people that work for him, and he tries his best to keep us all busy. This makes my day to day work agenda pretty interesting. For instance, this morning after I finished the proposals for the day I was assigned two tasks 1-paint an old bread sign like this one
and 2- go online to Dish Network and set up an installation for him, since he tried twice this week via phone and just cussed them out apparently.

The bread sign was a breeze. I free handed that bad boy and it looks awesome.

Dish Network? Oh dear. Oh d-d-d-dear. I go online and fly through the prompted questions. But when it is time to finalize and pay the fee I get a red I mean RED message saying I can't complete the transaction online, I must call customer service. Oy. I call the 1-800-ah-shit line and try this again. After 45 minutes with a lady who probably lives HERE, we figure out the problem. Dad (and Mom) have been "locked out" for security purposes and can't try to get Dish Network again for at least 30 days.
30 days?
locked out?
Security purposes?
Yes, my parents, in their early 60's - and mostly retired are a security issue. Please RED FLAG them. I mean, they might be a threat towards each other, but a Dish Network Installer could probably be in and out of there within an hour and come out unscathed. I would recommend the installer be from HERE vs. THERE unlike customer support, but you know whatever.

--My question is...what in the hell did dad say to them that they felt the need to RED FLAG him in the Dish system?Oh what I wouldn't give to see the sidenote that pops up under their names for the customer support staff! Probably something like "-note- Customer is a super cranky old man, do NOT send installers to this location. Customer is probably armed and dangerous. Even if he offers to pay $5,000 in set up fees do NOT send installers.Ever."

Bless my dad's Irish/German heart.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

photographic Wednesday

no this isn't a "wordless wednesday" post...you see words right now don't you? I am trying my best to steer clear of the stereotypical mommy blog. Heels digging into the ground. But, in case you were wondering where the flow of humorously constructed posts are. They got lost for a bit, but this may be the reason why:

Maybe when you get done saying "Awwwwww", "oh my god", and "how cute", you can forgive me?

Monday, March 7, 2011

Dear Ireland, I miss you terribly.

For starters, I checked the forecast this morning and it was 20 degrees warmer in Kenmare than it was here at home.

Aside from the coldness this morning, I realized that just this time last year I was sitting in PF McCarthy's with Mr. Jones drinking a big ol pint of Guinness. We instantly fell in love with Kenmare - the town was cute, awesome, old school, and well I could totally call it home.

I always wonder what it would be like to live in Ireland, you know, if money weren't an issue (or the pesky citizenship process) Lord knows we are having a hard enough time with immigration here in the states, and we let damn near everyone in.!

Anyways, I am getting side tracked yet again. Thinking about our big trip to the emerald isle also reminded me that we stood on the "wishing steps" at the gardens of Blarney castle and it hit me.

me to myself: "Holy shit, do you remember what you wished for on those steps?! A baby, you wished that you would have a baby soon and that baby would be healthy and happy."

And guess what kids? Wasn't a month or more from being home that we had barely started to think of being pregnant and bam we were. I asked Brett last night what he had wished for on the wishing steps, and he had wished the very same thing. (it's like a freakin story book isn't it? haha).

So, I am going to get my ass back to those wishing steps and wish to win the lottery so that we can come back to Kenmare and make it our home (or our second home - that would work too). In the meantime I should find an author or illustrator of children's books so I can hammer out some deets and make a book for Adeline about her mommy and daddy and this Ireland adventure - since she did come from a simple wish after all.