Hello World! It’s me! Let’s get this “get to know me” shit out of the way!

Since this is my very first maiden voyage into the world of writing. I decided to expand on the “about me” section that I conveniently tried to skip.  To be fair I will give you a 5 minute head start to grab the alcohol and tylenol. Your going to need it.

  The words “about me” always give me flashbacks to elementary school. When I was a new kid. And had to share with the class who I was. Do you really think I knew at the age of 8 who I was. At 43 I’m still trying to figure that out.

  To add to my childhood trauma I noticed you can’t escape this kind of humiliation as an adult. But it’s in the form of “new hire” orientation. Instead of just showing up and having your new employer basically blow smoke up your ass about how great their company is. They had to go and change the whole experience. By making you get up and share something about yourself. At my last place of employment I had to do it two times. And speak into a microphone. WTF? I was there because I like doing what I do. And they happen to pay for that. And seeing that I’m an adult. I discovered that paychecks are pivotal to survival. So, I go to these things so I can start collecting my “bread and butter”. Not to feel like I am a contestant on the dating game. Because if I was to be perfectly honest. I wouldn’t even date myself. So, on a side note. If you are a HR person in charge of these things. Here’s a hint. No one wants to get up and talk about themself(that is a lie there are some people that never shut up about themselves) and no one cares what everyone else is sharing. I’m usually planning what I’m going to make for dinner while my co-workers drown on and on about how much “experience they have.  And did I mention I can’t cook. So, you see how helpful these exercises are.

  WOW! I basically wrote a book to explain how I despise the about me sections. If you haven’t figured out. I’m like the old Comcast commercials where the turtle says, “We have a real talker over here”. Or as my husband likes to tell me…”stop circling the airport and land the plane”. Meaning get to the fucking point already!

  I’m a 43 year old woman who wears many masks. You could ask several people who I am and they would all have a different response. My husband would probably say I am the person that makes him pray he will wake up deaf. Did I mention he’s an atheist? My kids would probably define me as the “prison warden of their youth”. On a good note they are all grown and out on parole. I’m also a Nonnie. I hate the word “Grandma”. That is an old person that wears polyester pants with elastic waist bands. I’m just overweight and trying to fit in my old jeans. My co-workers see me as “Crazy Kari”. A person who should not be allowed access to caffeine. And my patients probably see me as someone that might be really funny. Or maybe thats just the large doses of narcotics they are on right now. See, I am many things.

  As mentioned above I am married. I met my husband in 2005 and we got married a year later. A decision he has probably regretted every day since. But all I have to say is, “Too late buddy. You already signed on the dotted line”. I really don’t know what people mean when they say, “happily married”. Sounds like one of those filtered snapchat pictures if you ask me. Don’t get me wrong. My husband is my best friend. I love that man more than I thought was possible. I know how lucky I am to have him. I was married before. And that might have given me 3 great kids. But it almost made me want to become a nun afterwards. And I’m not even Catholic. So, that shot that idea down. But my husband is the light in my darkest moments and my buoy when the waves of life are trying to drown me. He makes me feel loved everyday.Not just by not words but actions. And at the same time. As much as I want to hug the man to death. There are times where I want to yell at him like a banshee. Jump on him like a spider monkey and squeeze the ever loving shit out of him. And not in the “I love you” way. More in the if I had a frying pan on me I would knock some sense into you. To me this is marriage. The good. The bad. And all the moments in between.

  The nice thing about marriage is you get extra kids without the stretch marks. I have 3 and he has 2. They range from the age of 31 to 19. As you can see we finally crossed the finish line of raising them. The time where you are like we made it! We survived raising kids. And didn’t end up with matching straight jackets. Exotic islands and Pina Coladas here we come!!And then we got a GSD puppy. Then another one. And will you look at that? They had puppies. Let’s just keep one from the litter. So, we can make sure the whole fence and backyard gets successfully destroyed.. Ya, we are those kind of crazy people. So, we have 3 dogs from 3 years old to 1. Which is really like having a room full of hopped up toddlers on a sugar high. Don’t know what the hell we were thinking. Oh, yes I do! We weren’t.

  And with all these kids. We have already have lots of grandkids. Some of our kids obviously fell asleep when they explained how babies were made. We had 10. But my oldest daughter got remarried last year. So,We got 3 more. So, basically we are building a small army. But it’s all good. Because it’s family that makes life more complete. OR is it more crazy? I can’t remember. 

  I work in healthcare. Which is a very rewarding job. But can also make you want to start to drink. But that’s the cool thing about my job. When you clock in . You never know if this will be the day that you decide standing on a street corner with your misspelled cardboard sign would be a better career choice. This job keeps me on my toes while my other body parts fall apart. Can you say I need a new back. Why does only Mr. Potato Head come with spare parts?

  Well, if you haven’t fallen asleep or started drinking after reading this. I have achieved miracle status. I will be blogging about anything and everything. For years people have encouraged me to do this. Maybe, they were just tired of my “long” posts showing up on their social media feeds. Who knows. But here I am. A woman who has worn a blindfold most of her life. I have tripped, fallen, and at times got stuck in what smelled an awful lot like shit. But you know what? I’ve always gotten back up. And maybe my next steps on this journey were a little slower or hesitant. But I took them and I still do. So, join me on my road to sanity. And be those directions I ask for. As I will be those directions for you in return. As long you remember that I am geographically challenged. So, I’ll probably have you wondering in a desert for 40 years. But I’ll be right there with you. Probably complaining about how thirsty I am. And that there’s sand up my ass crack. But the point is that we will be in this together.