I have taken to my blog (something I rarely do) to join the conversation that is blowing up my Facebook newsfeed. (No, I’m not talking about the “So how much to you love TSwift right now?” conversation.) I’m talking about all the Thanksgiving Day shopper shaming that is happening. While I won’t be joining the masses of shoppers until Friday morning because it’s my personal tradition to finish one bottle of Cab while the turkey cooks. (I WILL, however, be venturing out Friday to get my yearly supply of hand soap for dirt cheap at Bath and Body and to get a family set of Christmas jammies at Old Navy.) MANY people will leave their families sleeping at home this Thanksgiving to have some fun and shopping fellowship all while stimulating the economy but, it seems like many Americans are judging their decision to abandon their turkey coma for mall cardio. Close those judging eyes America.

Most likely the same people (likely women) who cooked over a hot stove long enough to prepare turkey, stuffing, potatoes, yams, cranberry sauce, gravy, bread, appetizers, desserts, drinks, aaaannnnddd set a pretty table (whew) are also going to be the people who would like to indulge in some Thanksgiving Day Deals. Why put MORE restrictions on the people who prepare the meal? They’ve worked their ass off all day and now everyone is napping, unbuttoning their jeans, and watching football. Speaking of football….why doesn’t somebody bitch about a male dominated sport that takes place on the “sacred holiday” of Thanksgiving each year. Never. Gonna. Happen. Critics would rather take aim at the Thanksgiving Day sport that is closely associated by our society with women. Shopping.

So if all you bargain hunters out there want to make merry with your families then get jacked up on Starbucks and fight the crowds…..bless your hearts and may you get all the door buster deals my friends! 

*This is how I feel on all my Target trips.*

PS- This is mostly for jokes. So if you can't read between the lines and see that please.....BE GONE!

People are nice.....right?

Thoughts on humans who are not nice in social situations
By Melissa Ann Rickman Simmons, self proclaimed queen bee of nice

**the following is thoroughly researched, grammatically correct, and very intelligent


NOT

Read on......

I don't know if it's because I grew up in the south or if I am just very naive but, I always carry the assumption that most people are nice. When I have an encounter with someone who is not friendly towards me, it is shocking. Shocking. I'm a people person, a people lover even. So it's not only shocking but also a little heartbreaking actually when humans are not friendly.

Bare with me on these next thoughts.

I'm 24 years old and I still might shed a tear (in private) if I see another girl blatantly talking about me, if someone is rude to me, or just plain makes me feel about 2 inches tall. These tears are usually paired with the words, "I just can't understand why (insert human name) was so mean to me." Some might say I need to "toughen up" or "grow a pair." Well, I'm tough enough and I certainly don't want to "grow a pair" because that is a sick, dumb phrase anyway. I just want people to be nicer or save their unfriendliness for more appropriate times.

When I grew up my parents, teachers, grandparents, etc told us that if you don't have anything nice to say about someone, don't say anything at all. Translation to what that meant WHERE I grew up-- You really should try to refrain from talking about people HOWEVER.... if you have something not nice to say about someone (because let's face it, it is necessary) say it when they leave they room, when you know for damn sure they won't hear or see, and when you aren't in "mixed company."

In fact, I enjoy a little "what is she thinking with that outfit" or "isn't that (insert human name)'s ex" banter. The difference is I know damn well when, where, and with who to engage in such conversations. Okay so maybe that is not very nice too and I will work on it. Geez. Lord help me be nicer than nice.

I was also taught THE golden rule. Treat others how you want to be treated. Translation to what that means when you don't WANT to be nice-- kill (insert human name) with kindness. By killing them with kindness everyone gets along when they have to and killing with kindness is pretty fun. If you're killing someone with kindness who also knows "the rules," he or she will get the idea and just stay away.

I am not sure that the south central Kentucky translation of these ever so golden rules reached some parts of the world. If you're one of those less fortunate who didn't get these adaptations, start practicing. In the meantime I'm done getting upset when people are meanies. My new thought will be, "Bless her heart. She doesn't know the rules."

Then I'll ask the good lord to zip your mean ugly lips because in case you missed that memo too, mean is ugly.

I just creep yeaaah

Since my freshman year of college, I can think of about 5 people who have consistently been on my social media radar. These are the people whose Facebook posts I will always look for and the pictures that I am always interested to see. You're probably thinking these people are ex-boyfriends (or pretend boyfriends in my case,) arch enemies, or even best friends. Absolutely not. Now I do may fair share of stalking these people, HOWEVER the people I am most interested in for "creeping" purposes are these characters.

You know who they are. In fact, I'm sure you have a few of your own. I'm talking the girl who lived in your dorm freshman year who has maxed out her allotted visits to the tanning bed for a lifetime, got a boob job, and oops! now she's having a baby. It's been over 5 years since you first saw her at a frat party lathering on love spell spell spray in the bathroom and you were all like, "Hey girl, I think you live in my dorm." Many years later and you still cringe when you see one of those little bottles of purple liquid. Also, the fascination with this person hasn't ceased. She's moved on and is using the skills of her communications degree to work at a job that doesn't compromise her first loves of tanning and boozing. You're hopped up on mimosas on a Saturday morning and just before that early afternoon power nap, you feel the need to check the twitters or the facebook to see what Love Spell girl is doing this weekend.

What about that girl you kind of knew in high school who has made your Facebook defriending rampage a few times because her baby is so damn cute?? She's on the radar too! Do you really care if little Tommy is taking a nap on the couch with daddy? No, but that instagrammed pic of them is pretty cute and you need some distraction from your annoying co-workers.

Clearly, I'm speaking based on personal experience. Social media is WONDERFUL. It is allowing our society to communicate in ways that we never have before but, there are a lot of social media haters out there. They say, "Why should I care about Facebook? I don't need to know every move people make." Of course you don't but doesn't the post-grad working world feel like ground hog day sometimes? To me it does and people like Love Spell and Baby's Momma make my days a little more entertaining. So all you Facebook haters, keep on hating BUT the next time you're bored at a random time of the day, try creeping on someone who went to your high school who has always been a little odd. Chances are they've got a cute baby, "cray drama in their lyfe holla!" or they might even be traveling the world! Now, tell me how much more entertaining that is than playing words with friends.

You always wanted to know what they were saying

Dear Readers,

I write to you today to confirm one of your worst fears. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but, it must be told.

It's early spring and if you have crusty crust winter feet like me, you've recently ventured out to a nail salon to get a much needed pedicure.

It was a warm sunny afternoon as I ventured into Nail Trix in Towson, a lovely suburb of Baltimore. I chose my polish (Cajun Shrimp by OPI bc it's my fav) and was quickly seated in a pedicure chair with a nice warm tub of water waiting for me to soak my toesies in. As I chatted with two friends and flipped through a magazine, the man giving me a pedicure and his co-worker giving my friend a pedicure were also chatting away.

As you probably know (because you've been to salons with names like Nail Trix or Super Nails) they were not chatting in English. Occasionally they would exchange a few words then look at us and smile. This is par for the course at many establishments like this one. I have wondered time and again, "Are these people talking about me? Are they talking about how nasty my feet are?" You would be lying if you say you've never wondered this. You have.

I of course do not voice this concern EVER. I don't want people to think I'm judgmental, so I attempt to mind my own business, make small talk with the workers, and read my magazine.

Well my dear friends on this sunny spring day in April, I have confirmed our long time suspicions of the chatty, non-English speaking nail salon workers. They are, in fact, talking about you.

Here's how it went down:
Mel: (in my head) With a name like Nail Trix, I thought this place was going to be a dump. But it's really nice. I think I'll inquire about waxing services.

Mel: (Spoken aloud to the man giving pedicure.) This place is great! Do you all do eyebrow waxing?

Pedicure giving man: Yes we do. And we (points to woman giving pedicure to my friend) were just talking about how badly you need a wax.

Pedicure man then says something (not in English) to his friend and she begins to point and frown at my eyebrows.

So in a split second my suspicions of these people judging and discussing me in their language were confirmed. At this point I am so mortified that I immediately throw my friend under the bus by saying, "Well what about HER?! Were you talking about her eyebrows too?" Both workers agreed that she too needed a wax.

What did I do? Tell them I was offended? NO. Maybe next time on the wax? Of course not. (It was honestly unibrow status.)

I walked my freshly pedicured self into the back room for an eyebrow wax. Laid down on the table and didn't flinch once while the lady did work on my eyebrows. (brow) She was so surprised that I didn't scream out in agony after she pulled the first strip that she patted me on the shoulder and said good job.

I propped myself up on my elbows, looked her in the eye and said, "I know it probably looks like I've never had an eyebrow wax in my life but, I've actually been doing this for about the last 12 years. Don't worry I can take the pain." She smiled and proceeded to give me an amazing brow shape.


Moral of the story? 1. Yes, they are talking about you. 2. I highly recommend the waxing services at Nail Trix. And finally, 3. If you don't have anything nice to say about anybody, don't say anything at all. In any language.


Yours Truly,

Melissa Two Brows Rickman

Family is the classroom of love

Death has been a huge part of my life in the past three months. I lost my grandpa on December 23rd and since then a day has not passed when I haven't thought about death.

One of the first thoughts I had after my Grandpa died was about his parents and his grandparents. How proud they must have been of him and how they must have adored his handsome face when he was just a child. I often wonder doesn't it just make sense that you would be greeted by your mother in death and in heaven. Her body had literally been your home at one point in your life and when your body is giving out, I could not think of a more comfortable place than the arms of your mother. I wonder too, what my grandfather saw, who he saw, and what he felt as he crossed over. I guess I'll never know but I can only hope he felt something as comforting as his mother's arms.

The blog below talks about a chaplain's experience of people talking about their families as they approach death.

http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2012/01/28/my-faith-what-people-talk-about-before-they-die/

The most striking thing for me in this article was her statement that the first and last classroom of love is the family. God is love. If you're family is a classroom of love then God most certainly is present in your family.

After I moved to Baltimore and before my grandfather died, it was so important to me to find a church here and tell him that I had. Part of the classroom of love that I experienced during my grandfathers life took place (in my early years 3-10 at least) sitting next to him in a baptist church pew in Kentucky and many rides in his Cadillac in my Sunday best. The sound of a church hymn will forever remind me of Grandpa's love of God and his love for me.

As a teenager and young adult, I strayed away from church. It bothered me a little and sometimes a lot. However, picking up a hymnal always tugged at my heartstrings. Now when I go to church, which doesnt happen every Sunday, I leave with my family on my mind and feeling closer to God. I try to explain to Nick often why a church service or a hymn makes me feel the presence of my family. Reading that blog made this feeling much clearer to me. Anything that makes me feel close to God makes me feel connected to a powerful force of love. Love, which I learned first from my family.

At my grandfather's funeral and for a few days before, I was surrounded by family. (including friends who are family) Even family so extended that I didn't even know some of them. From my father sitting beside me to a third cousin 7 times removed in the back pew, I felt SO much love. I could taste love in all the food people prepared for us, feel it in embraces from dear friends, hear it in the voices of my mom and sister singing, and see it on every face. It was just an omnipresent love. Now I think this must be what heaven is like and I'm so happy that my grandfather and many others are in the midst of that omnipresent love for eternity.

On the brain: a list

1. If you graduated from WKU and cheer for UK tomorrow. Get a freaking life. Just because you've warn a blue dress or blue khakis with wildcats on them for a few drunken nights at Two Keys doesn't give you the right to refer to UK as "us" when they are playing WKU.

If you have some sort of special connection to the school, that's great! Cheer for them whenever! I love to see them win! But don't be so annoying about it. Define annoying. Okay! Annoying WKU grad who is a UK fan is always wearing UK blue post grad and pretending WKU doesn't exist. To be less annoying just absolutely DO NOT cheer for UK when they're playing WKU. You might think it's cool but, it's not.

When UK wins, I think of my friends and family who are graduates from there and I think of what a great representation the basketball team is for the state on a national scale. Let's be clear about that:)

2. The other day I said, "Those people are our age." I said this to someone who is 30. She replied, "What do you mean, our age? There's a big age gap here."

I can't get this out of my mind. I guess there is a huge difference between life at 23 and at 30. However, I don't really feel like my life is going to change all that much. Does that make me a really lame 23 year old or naive about the reality of being 30?

3. I love spring clothes. LOVE IT. Love the colors, love the neutrals, love the flats, love it all. HATE that I have to start shaving my legs on a regular basis again.

That is the list that is on my brain.

Aware

If you're a social media user (or addict like me) then you probably saw some sort of STOPKONY2012 propaganda yesterday on Twitter or Facebook or YouTube or Vimeo or Instagram. Wherever you chose to follow the details of other people's lives-- it was out there. In between posts of "blacked out in frat myers #sb2012" or "ready to cheer on the cats in Blue Orleans," there was a 30 minute video detailing brutalities that have happened to children in Uganda.

As I was cruising Facebook and Twitter yesterday, I watched the video and forwarded it to my followers. Why did I do this? I felt bad for these people. Can I locate Uganda on a map? NO. What do I know about the history of this country? Nothing really.

So this morning, I have been really thinking about this whole STOPKONY 2012 campaign. I found this article which offers another view on what is happening with Joseph Kony in this region of the world and some interesting information on the Invisible Children organization. These are probably the real facts of the situation but, as previously stated, I really have no idea. This situation is filled with foreign policy, military, and government issues that are far too complicated to understand from one 30 minute video or a 300 word article.

What is clear to me, from the mass distribution of this video on social media, is that for 30 minutes yesterday a lot of people stopped and thought about people outside of their own "worlds." Instead of looking at PGPs (post grad problems) on Twitter or creeping on wedding, spring break, and baby photos on Facebook, people were reminded that there are seriously awful things that happen to other human beings in this world. They maybe even thought about how they could do something about it. Even if it was simply whipping out their debit card, buying the $30 dollar STOP KONY bracelet, and feeling like they helped save the world a little from their cubicle.

This might not have been a very educated decision because the video clearly doesn't tell the WHOLE story and maybe that $30 bucks went right into the pocket of the good looking white guys who run Invisible Children. However, now this person is actually thinking of others. Maybe this new awareness will reach outside of their cubicle to the commute home where they see another need in their own community. Maybe our cubicle hero will think of a way to help or maybe this person will just simply be aware of what is happening in the world outside of their car.

I am certainly not condoning supporting a cause that you know nothing about because it makes you feel like you've helped. I'm not saying that if you work hard to get ahead, you should feel guilty if you're not helping others. Times are hard for everyone and charity is a personal choice.

I AM saying that awareness is of great importance. I feel like there are people that walk through this world and have no idea of the plight of others. There are people all over this world who suffer great injustices everyday. The very least we can do is be aware of that. Not only will this make us more appreciative of our own lives but, this awareness just might turn into action. Lastly, action is action no matter where is happens. Invisible Children might be a great cause but so is helping a mom with three kids load her groceries into a car or delivering a meal to those in need once a month.

I'm going to try to start spending the same amount of time exercising compassion towards the needs of others as I do exercising my thumbs to read the next tweet. That's where I'm starting. Maybe you could do the same.

Here's the article:
http://blog.foreignpolicy.com/posts/2012/03/07/guest_post_joseph_kony_is_not_in_uganda_and_other_complicated_things

**note to the reader** this was written before 7am and before my first cup of coffee. Excuse the rambling :)