The Curse of the WhitMonster…

Howdy y’all 2 readers (but mostly myself). I thought I better document the oddities that have followed me the last several weeks… like does this happen to normal people because for serious, I must have some speshal skills. I have been job hunting for months… it’s a full time job in itself and its ability to make one feel like the sludge on the bottom of the apple barrel is mind boggling. Not that I have much mind to be boggled, but you get the picture. It’s basically a constant reminder that you’re not good enough… which is ridiculous because it’s not true, but when you get rejection after rejection for months straight that little demon monster always seems to burrow itself up into the recesses of the doubt portion of your brain and lives there until you flush it out with a whole chocolate cake, only to return 20 minutes later.

Ain’t that a pretty picture? As a side note, last night I dreamt that my room was infested with armadillos which totally freaked me out because armadillos are freaky. I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t check the closet and under the bed tonight before I got into it. Dream analyzers? Armadillos? Back to the topic… so job hunting sucks the life out of a person. I’ve been pretty down in the dumps of late, but I also know that trials and tribulations are supposed to be growing experiences, so I do have to say that I did do things during this time I wouldn’t have been able to have done before, so there’s my positive side of the coin for what it’s worth.

About 5 or so weeks ago, I finally landed a job. It wasn’t my ideal dream job, but at the point I was at after months of rejections, except for a temporary part time gig, I was grateful for anything that wasn’t McDonald’s. So 5 or so weeks ago, I’m all celebrating and praising all that be holy and doing the hippity dippity grateful dance… fast forward a week or so later and I could not get a hold of my new employer. Not by phone, not by email… it was like they disappeared into a black hole somewhere! Before you get to thinking I signed up with a scam company, this company has been around for years… they have their programs and equipment in 86% of US hospitals and thousands of clinics and doctor’s offices, so it’s a large, legit company. In fact the company I worked at before for 13 years uses their programs. I kept trying to get a hold of them and was having no luck, so I googled them… and the news popped up all over that they were hit by a large international malware virus, some hackers hacked in and planted the virus which destroyed all of their files and data, etc. They had thousands of doctors and companies left without the programs they used daily and who knows how many more without work until they could rebuild. So, this company that’s been around for years and years is no match to the curse of the WhitMonster… call me up if you feel like you need a virus… I’m your gal.

I also underestimated how long it would take them to rebuild… I was all… give them 2 weeks and they’ll be up and working. It’s 5 or so weeks later as of today and they’re still not fully up and working, and I’m hanging around waiting for some unknown date of when I can get a paycheck again. About 2 weeks ago, I gave up waiting and started seriously looking for work again… not gonna lie, I was depressed and horribly down in the dumps about it all… to have lived in that high moment of relief for finally getting one to being back at square one was crushing to me.

This past Wednesday, the heavenly lights shown on me again and I finally landed another job. Maybe the virus was a blessing in disguise? For me… not for them. I started my new job on Thursday and it’s different than anything I’ve done before, so learning curve on the way. I analyze high dollar medical records for insurance companies and make sure that there aren’t any wacky charges going on. Let us all knock on all of the wood and hope the curse of the WhitMonster doesn’t rear it’s ugly head for this gig, okay? Great. In the meantime, I’ll try to blend in with the wallpaper.

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Hey guys… I watch a movie with snacks!

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Neighbor Thomas and BoBo with their popsicle tongues!

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Tea parties with wild animals for the win!

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Dragging Through Driggs…

Yello… How’s it going long lost blog space? I’ve been lazy with blogging the last several weeks, and by lazy I really mean I didn’t want to do it, and when I set my mind to something, you best believe it gets done… but only if it requires doing nothing, so scratch the ambitious part of that sentence. Boy, do I ever paint a picture of myself right here… it’s like I’m advertising myself to the sleep disorder center.

Anyhow, this past week I spent with the fam-damly up in their old stomping grounds, Teton Valley, Idaho. Driggs and Victor to be more specific. I guess the family does that every year on the 4th, but this is one of the times I actually went with them, so you can mark that down in the books somewhere. Baby BoBo turned into a bear up there and chased people around in his birthday suit, Ethan and Shayne did death defying stunts off of super high banisters into bean bags, Lindsay threatened lawsuits and divorce when they brought Bourne on one of the jumps, and Whitney mainly checked for germs and doled out Minion Tic Tacs to the masses… and by masses I really mean Baby BoBo the Bear. All in all, it was an eventful trip which included a hike, a rodeo, Grand Targhee wandering, a small-town parade, and lots of Pop-Its!

Dance party with Baby BoBo as the boss and no one allowed to wear shoes… boy, it must be nice to be the boss!

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Hiking… Baby BoBo made it 1 mile walking on his own… then he had to be carried… where do I sign up for that gig y’all!?!?

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Nekked bears chasing “Ma” and “Pa” before bath time.

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Victor Parade with the coolest dude in town…

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Driggs Rodeo… yee-haw!

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Grand Tetons for the win!

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Just Stuff…

I’ve had the same song running through my noggin for the last 3 days… it’s my usual go to, “My Funny Valentine”… the one I have no clue why I constantly get stuck in my head because I actually really dislike the song… but whatever brain space. Whatever…

In other even less interesting news, I’ve determined that wishy washiness and job hunting do not go hand in hand. It’s too bad that wishy washy is my middle name. Also, is there like a vacation from job hunting or is it like a neverending process of self-confidence depressors? I’m a bit frustrated at this point… but carry on I will because my other middle name is also “trudges through the muck and mire”. I best head off and get myself a trade, I guess… like Burger King bathroom cleaner or unsanitary meat packer… maybe grape stomping and cheese packaging since there are cheese factories around town. Oh boy… dream big, Whitmeister!

Until then… enjoy these pictures and video of Baby BoBo who has recently learned how to say Whitney… or it’s more like Whi… but I count it as such!


BoBo is really smart… he could use sign language to tell you all of his colors and animals, etc., at a very early age, but he hasn’t been that interested in talking until recently… so go Baby BoBo! Also, hims poor teefies… one of them is chipped now after he fell face first into the pavement… hey, I didn’t give him those genes!

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BoBo and I decorated Harley with these little puffy balls, I told him to sit by Harley and CHEESE so I could get a picture of them… sadly he sat in front of the puffy balls so we just get crazy cheeses…

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Classiness Is A Verb…

Y’all… it’s been the weirdest… the other week I brushed a dead spider out of my hair… it was all crumpled and brittle… and basically dead… and I almost shaved my entire 3 hairs off my head and started over! The weirdest part about it is I wash my hair thorouhgly EVERY. SINGLE. DAY!!!!! So, like how in the sam hill bean company did a spider burrow into my hair follicles, die, and then brittle up in the space of a couple of hours? Don’t mind me… I’m basically traumatized for life… it’s okay y’all.

In other weirdness, that same week I was sitting in the parking lot of Macey’s, about to get out to go in and get my grocery shopping on, when some brilliant person comes screeching out the Kentucky Fried Chicken drive through and slams into my front bumper like I’m some invisible Beulah the Buick car or something. I was even laying on my horn because I saw that she wasn’t slowing down. She got out of her car looked at my bumper and was like, “I hope I didn’t damage your car too much.
Thanks for honking.” Uh…. sure… except it didn’t work because you still bat in helled right into my car. Because I’m nice and Beulah was an embarrassment of bird doo, I didn’t call the police or get her insurance info. So, the leak I discovered and the physical damage adds to the charm of the Beulah phenomenon!

Now that you are reminded about how classy I really am, Lindsay gifted my mom (for mother’s day) and I (for a graduation present), a reservation to afternoon tea at the Grand America Hotel in Salt Lake City this past weekend. Basically, the Grand America Hotel is for hoity toity people… people who line their garbage cans with 100-dollar bills. I line my garbage cans with recycled grocery store sacks, so you can see my dilemma. I called in advance to see if there was a dress code, because let’s face it, I wasn’t wearing a formal gown. I was told that there was a variety of dress, but most people come in their casual clothes. We showed up in our casual clothes, which was totally fine because at least half of the place was wearing casual clothes, but then the other half was glaring at us like we done spit in the herbal tea carafe. Several tables were wearing fancy floral dresses with old-fashioned hats with netting veil-like things that come down over the eyes. Oh my laws y’all… I forgot my netting at the gold-plated dry cleaners. Then, to top it off after our fancy waiter gave us an entire menu full of fanciful British teas to choose from, Lindsay done asked if they had a jumbo mug of Diet Coke. I’m surprised she didn’t pull her gas station mug out her purse and ask them to fill ‘er up, fellas. The waiter brought her a Diet Coke in a wine glass… so you can see our dilemma.

Even if we weren’t the classiest patrons in the place, we still had a good time. Next time I’ll be sure to wear more gold-infused floral!

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The first 3-tiered tray of food. Finger sandwiches, some with goat cheese and arugula (gag me a maggot) and others with more normal things like chicken and turkey.

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The dessert tray… I didn’t really make it to this tray. I was too full from coconut almond hot chocolate and goat cheese sandwiches.

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A trip to SLC is never complete without some cheeser BoBo time! Even if he is wearing one Elmo slipper and one Cars slipper.

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Harley the cat huggles…

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Yep… snow in mid-May. Don’t sign me up!

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Sale-ebrations…

Mother’s day weekend is always jam packed over here at the Mediocre Ranch. You have your annual mother’s day and then my dad’s birthday falls around the same time, so we always try to celebrate both in the same weekend.

This weekend was no exception. There was a visit from Baby BoBo and his big cheeser grins. We squirted some flowers with the water guns I got at the dollar store, got dirty in the neighbor’s sandbox, saw some baby chickies at the Cal-Ranch store, made a steak dinner with funeral potatoes and non-alcoholic Summer In A C Cup drinks, ate overly-priced brunch at the golf course where BoBo shared an ice cream cone with the floor, talked to Elder Bro Christian on his mission via Skype, and unsuccessfully tried to take group selfies… now all I have to do is take the 32 selfies, cut out the individual people, and photoshop them into a group photo where everyone is looking at the camera at the same time. So easy… said no one ever!

In other news, we also celebrated mothers… I am all for celeebrating the hardworking, long-suffering women in my life… y’all deserve all of the accolades and more, especially my momma! I also have a hard time with this day as I am reminded that I was not blessed with children, and it always gives me a tinge of sadness to think of it. Life is an interesting mish mash of twists and turns… and one day I hope to know more about it.

Happy mother’s day to my momma and the few other mother’s who read this blog… and also a big happy birthday to my dad who turned a whopping 39 (coughyeahrightcough) this year! Love you all!

This is my favorite video… turn on the sound!

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Oh cheeser baby… also, ice cream cones with a fork is the new thing.

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Neighbor Thomas is always so sweet to let Bourne play with his toys.

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Perseverance…

I wasn’t going to post anything, but figured I best if I’m using this old fashioned blog (Snapchat what!?) as a sort of a journal. It’s good to make note of milestones… no matter if it may have taken 20 years to reach said milestone… because perseverance counts for something… it just has to said the tortoise to the hare.

I graduated high school in 1997… y’all… put your calendars away… that was 20 damn-fried years ago. By fall of 1997 I enrolled at USU because that’s what all the cool kids were doing… and by cool I really mean non-druggy. High school came easy to me… I’d do a lot of my homework on the bus or 5 minutes before the class started and I’d still get A’s. College, I found was not the same beast. I had to study… and I really didn’t know how to study. I also figured I’d be superwoman my freshman year and on top of having a full-time schedule of classes, to pay for those classes (no scholarships for the Whitmeister despite good grades and ACT score), I also was juggling 3 jobs and had a death wish with a newly-diagnosed diabetes disease. Needless to say, I bombed big time. I got my first D’s and F’s in all my school career. I had too much going on and not enough desire to focus on the betterment part of my life. I faked my way through a few more semesters… got some more poor grades… did less studying… worked 2 jobs (quit 1), and gained approximately 200 pounds in the process. By Spring of 1999 I fizzled out of the USU thing and just worked. A few years later I attended a year+ of Bridgerland Applied Technology College to become a medical transcriptionist, and that’s where I worked for approximately 13 years.

To make a long story even boringer, I realized that if I wanted to see my dream of owning my own place and perhaps a small country in Europe, I’d either have to adopt a rich grandfather, become a mail order bride for rich blind people, or I’d have to finish that dagnabbed degree at USU and give myself a fighting chance. Transcription was also going the way of the dinosaur with technology advancing, so there was double reason to pick option C. By fall of 2012, I’d re-enrolled at USU and started my college career again. I still worked full time, but only 1 job and decided to keep things sane I better just do part-time school with a full-time job. I was determined to not make the same mistakes I had years earlier. To be honest, I was pretty sure I’d fizzle out again after a few semesters and register for that rich grandfather program, but something in me kept going… semester after semester, 6 or 7 credits per semester and a realization that I’d be near geezer status by the time I finally graduated.

I graduated this weekend… pulled my pitiful 2.4 GPA when I fizzled out in early 1999 up to near a 3.8 (that’s including my F’s and D’s as those don’t get erased from your transcript). Life is funny… could this be the time I was meant to finish my long sought after bachelor’s degree… in my late 30s with greying foliage? If you believe that lives are mapped out before we arrive here on Earth, then absolutely. I’m just doing things out of order.

Call me a late bloomer… I’m wayyyy behind all of you cool kids, but finishing something big like this, for this chic who has a closet full of unfinished crafting disasters, is something to pat myself on the back for. Now, if I could only figure out what I want to be when I grow up!? 😛 I’m open to suggestions!

PS – If anyone knows of a really cool job who is looking for a hardworking, responsible to a fault, newly graduated girl named Whitney, I’m at the top of that list.

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The Hair Saga: Dusty Rose or Passion Pink?

Y’all… I just watched a tribute to the music of the Bee Gees last night, so I currently have the songs Night Fever and Staying Alive on a constant loop of annoyance in my brain space. Slap a disco ball on me and call me Travolta! I’m really mostly sorry you had to miss the dancing because woo boy… if the Village People were present they’d have arrested me on the spot… for serious!

In other news, I got a “tip” on how to better color stubborn grey hairs… I usually just buy a box of dye at the Wally World and slap that sucker on like it’s 1952. It’s worked fine, except for the fact that I still see errant greys sticking out in my bangs and temple regions… I’ve pretty much pulled way too many grey hairs out my head as that was my method of covering grey for many years, so I have like 12 hairs left. When I was getting my hair cut the other week, I asked the stylist for some tips… and tips she gave. Go to Sally Beauty, pick a color (lighter than the color you want because it always colors darker) and then 2 different developers, a stronger one and a not so stronger one. Okay… well, how easy is that said the grey hair puller chic!

When I was at Sally Beauty Supply looking through the hair colors, I ran into a lady in her 50s or 60s? I can never guess with ages… she turned to me and was all like, which color do you think would look best on me… this dusty rose color or passion pink? Seeing as I have a conservative stick up my butt and the last thing I did that made me stand out in a crowd (well, besides weighing 530 pounds at one point) was split my pants open (and that wasn’t on purpose), I was about to point her to the mousy brown section, when she threw in the hot pink color to the choices. Okay, Jem and the Holograms… but where’s Rainbow Brite!?

I settled on a brown color with a reddish tint to it since that’s my natural hair color… even picked the lighter shade since that was part of the tip. To make a long story less long, Saturday night’s mixture made me look like Anne of Green Gables on steroids… wayyyyy too reddish pinkish… not the pretty color of red either. The next day I used a brown color from Wally World, that I already had in my closet, over top of it hoping it would temper the brightness… it sure did Gertrude… if you enjoy your hair being purple. Whatever… I will give that lady one thing… my greys were sure as heck all covered up after that ordeal. It’s been a few weeks of hair washing and the color has tamed down quite a bit, so I don’t mind it now even if it’s not the color I wanted. Moral of the story, go with dusty rose… always!

How is everyone else doing this rainy April!? Anything new and groovy?

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The purplish hair (after the 2nd dye job)… you can’t tell how purpley it was because of the lighting… but let’s just say if the Hot Pink chick was looking for someone to play in her Jem Band, I was her girl!

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Lookit! It’s Piggy Baby BoBo!

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BoBo wants a sandbox, Lindsay! Hello!

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