Friday, July 27, 2012

Hot. Mess(es).

According to Urban Dictionary, a 'hot mess' is: "Someone or something that is such a mess... the level of it is off of the charts. It's past pathetic, past pitiful. It's to the point you almost have to walk away to keep from bustin' a gut. Hot messes can exist in levels."

Now, I am a well educated woman, so by no means am I endorsing the use of defining things through Urban Dictionary, but lets be serious. Some things are really THAT bad.

I tend to witness, experience, encounter some form of a hot mess at least bi-weekly. During the school year when I'm working, those experiences rise to "daily". Lately I have found myself to be somewhat of a hot mess magnet, if you will. Many people would be annoyed by this... I get great pleasure out of knowing the stories I will have to tell to all of my friends at a later date upon a hot mess sighting.

Two to share that occurred within the last one and a half days.

Hot Mess 1:
-I was laying out at my pool reading up and attempting to expand my Cosmopolitan knowledge when I was rudely distracted by 2 kids entering the pool with their birth mother; they were joining another kid and his mother. Let me set up the scene: 2 kids entering pool were female (roughly age 6) and male (roughly age 9 and appeared to have been taking HGH since birth... his height appeared stunted for his age and I'm almost positive he had a 12 pack of abs, pecks and other defined arm and back muscles) and their birth mother (I call her that because she acted like the only reason she had to have any sort of accountability for these kids was because years ago she physically birthed them- I'm not sure if she has spoken to them since.) Mother spent the next hour gossiping and smack talking, rather loudly, about her kids to the other kid's mom. Other kid was male (roughly age 12, although he could have been younger but due to his rather large and unhealthy size for his age, he looked older) and very inappropriate the entire time I was there. His mother spent the entire hour talking to the other mom about her bathing suit... which I learned her parents bought her from Kohl's. -------------- You get where this story is going with the theme of hot mess and existing in levels, correct?
-HGH 9 year old was banished to sit on the side of the pool numerous times for being too rough with his sister. By rough, I mean he body slammed her under the water, threw her body at the edge of the pool, and was viciously splashing other pool patrons. When his "mother" was busy running her mouth to her friend with her back turned, he power swam inside of a huge inner tube into a very elderly woman who was doing her aquatic exercises. She actually had to yell STOP! STOP DOING THAT! HGH boy looked at her as if he was about to go into a 'roid rage and swam away. His little sister apologized to elderly woman. Mom never even saw what happened... or, if I'm as correct in this as I think, chose not to see it happen.
-Older, bigger boy continued to "pick up" and "cradle" little girl and carry her around the pool. Both moms kept looking at him as if he and it was creepy (which, DUH.) but never said anything. He often lowered her under the water stroking her hair.
-The last ten minutes of this foolishness that I could stand consisted of older boy talking as loudly as he could to both moms about tampons. About the use of the word, about women feeling "older" and the "need" to talk about tampons, and how he kept daring the little girl to say the word tampons and when she finally did he stated "I laughed and laughed so hard until my stomach was moving"... both mothers continued to not only allow him to keep saying and talking about tampons, but encouraged his behavior by telling him how weird he was being.
-Lastly, the older boy's mom was heard by the entire pool telling the little girl that she was the beauty of her family and that her brother, HGH boy, was.... (drum roll, please) the HOT MESS.

My tanning and Cosmo reading ended there.

Hot Mess 2:
-I purchased a Groupon for a mani/pedi to a cosmetology school... it can't be that bad, right? I'll leave the school's name out of this, but lets just say it's a school in Rock Hill located on Cherry Road in the old CATO building.
-Upon entering the building, I walk up to the receptionist's desk and there are two females sitting behind it. I was not greeted for about 5 minutes and when I finally was, it was "What do you need?". Hmm. okay. Hand them my Groupon and was told "Sit down and we'll get someone". There were 2 separate sections of "chairs" so I chose the ones farthest away... after 10 minutes I walk back past those 2 girls and was told "Where did you go? We told you to sit... you were supposed to sit over THERE." 10 minutes after that I'm approached by a girl chewing food with her mouth opened "You here for a mani/pedi? Come on".
-A full hour into what was the oddest, most painful to watch pedi ever... my toes still were not painted. I then look over to my right to see one of this school's "students" lunge at another student while screaming "I AIN'T START NUTTIN' WIT CHU!!"
-Cut to.... one hour later. I am now finally getting the manicure. Curious question.... since when do manicures and pedicures occur without the use of nail clippers? Apparently at "beauty school" they do because my chick did not have a pair and did not ask for a pair. So, my nails were just filed and filed down until they were the "right length".
-2 hours and 10 minutes later, I had decently painted nails and a very full bladder. Thank God the girl who did my nails was as nice as she could be. The place was dirty, the people were very unfriendly and rude, everyone drug their head mannequins around by the hair with frowns and sour looks on their faces, no one spoke to anyone and most students just sat in beauty chairs texting or sleeping. Oh, and there were flies. I never saw instruments get cleaned or washed. And I also learned that you are supposed to bring your "own polish" to get your nails done at a beauty school.

Now, do we have a clear understanding of the phrase "HOT MESS"?


Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Frame some Sunshine

My too cute mom recently helped me "re-do" a bathroom in my home. I wanted either a striking black and white print to put on the wall as the focal point, or something bright, different, fun. Of course, I already had what I thought I wanted planted in my mind. I took her to one of my favorite little boutique/gift stores in Charlotte, Paper Skyscraper, mostly to show her why I love the store... but who knew we would find the "print" for the bathroom.

I walked over to show her one of my favorite things in the store- their AMAZING wrapping paper that is thick, smooth, beautifully crafted, unique, fun, etc., etc... We both looked at the same piece of paper and without saying a word knew that the wrapping paper must be placed inside a thick, black frame and put up in the bathroom. Best $3 bathroom renovation EVER.

I recently stumbled upon a designer on Etsy, SparrowNestScript, who creates ecofriendly paper goods that are beautiful, fun, and cute! I love just about every single thing the designer has created, but thought the card below would be adorable framed inside a black frame with white matting in a little girl or boy's room, nursery, bathroom, etc...

That little shopping trip with my mom was of course fabulous, but also a great reminder that wonderful home decor can be cheap and chic at the same time. Sometimes I find myself going places to find something "new" for my house with my mind and eyes "pre-set" to find a certain something. This often causes me to overlook the perfect piece that I never knew I was looking for in the first place.

Thanks, mom for always having such a good eye... and for being my mom : )

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Valued Camaraderie

While in the process of searching for a new job as a school psychologist, I have found myself to reach levels of frustration, despair, worry, hopelessness, stress, hallucinations, irrational thoughts, the list goes on (you get my point) that I did not know were possible for someone who is generally a very happy, sane, and positive individual to actually reach. I mean, I may have looked through the DSM-IV (diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders) to self-diagnose my crazy ass. Don't worry... I don't appear to meet the criteria for any disorders- yet.

Through this "process" I have grown to have a very small understanding of what others go through who are unemployed longer than is a generally safe or reasonable period of time. However, I must say that this whole unemployment thing is not something I could tolerate for more than a couple of months; otherwise, my friends and family would be visiting me in a psychiatric treatment facility. I give a lot of credit (where credit is due) to those who have had to play this unemployment game far too long over the past few years and have managed to "keep it together" for however they choose to define that phrase.

I have also come to realize during this "process" (end of May until this week) that those people in my life who I crave support and faith from is far more valuable than I have ever realized. I am a talker and so naturally, those who are in my life and are important to me are kept abreast (ha ha, funny word) of what has been going on with my unemployment status. I have always valued my close relationships with my girl-friends and not surprisingly, they have been the most uplifting and encouraging throughout this time. I couldn't be more thankful for all of my fabulous girl-friends during this "process"... or for that matter, at any time of the day, month, year, life experience or whatever.

They are terrific.

The Title

In case you are wondering what the title of my blog means...

My parents gave me a unique name when I was born, 26 years ago. I hated my name up until about the 10th grade because every single day I was called "Justin" or some other variation of my actual name... including, but not limited to: Jasmine, Julie, Julia, Jessica, Jastin, Jestin, Jess, Jennifer, etc. As an aside, I in no way resembled a male as "Justin" is the male version of my name. I was wearing woman sized bras in the 4th grade, people.

I began liking my name half-way through high school and have since come to love my name as an adult... also because I only know one other Justine and think it's pretty neat to have a unique name. Anyways, when I introduce myself to people I always get "Did you say Justin?" accompanied by a strange look. Again, I do not resemble a male what-so-ever. Over the many years as an adult where the above has been the reply I get upon introducing myself, I have replied with "No, it's like 'Justin' with an 'E' on the end" and immediately get "OHHHH!! Justine!" This has cut down on introduction time by roughly 2 minutes.

Who knew it'd be that simple...
 Picture taken of me back when my melons were baby strawberries...