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Saturday, September 26, 2009

Take on Irritable Days....

A friend of mine posted this on Facebook today and I don't think she will mind if I post this.

She wrote: "...is having one of those days where the average person/stranger I'm crossing paths with in public irritates the crap out of me. Question...is it them or me?"

My response:
Without question - it's them! On days like this, my "Irritable Day Mantra": You're not out there to make anymore friends. Take nothing personally and it's ok to have that jumbo size glass of wine at 4:58 pm. Weekends don't apply.

Funny Farm Stand Up Act - Fall of 2007

The following is my (one and only) comedy stand up act (Monologue for Atlanta Job Zone Contest) performed at the Atlanta Funny Farm in 9/07. This had to be edited to less than 4 minutes. Writing it and delivering it are ALL TOGETHER different....

Hi! My name is Libby Rouleau and I am here to tell you about my first job experience.

But first I need to tell you a little bit about how I grew up for you to understand.

My parents divorced when I was twelve… and both are remarried (Dad, more than once… and OH dad is a retired F.B.I. agent and pilot. / That’s really a separate story altogether… Not quite Jerry Springer caliber, but close. / Then again, since I don’t watch Jerry Springer, a stepmother or two from my past, may have already appeared on the show …

Don’t get me wrong, my dad is a GREAT guy. He just lacked some crucial judgment skills when we were younger…That would include some time management skills too – Such as…Quality weekend time with your young daughters should not overlap with your undercover drug busts.

And just from experience, it’s probably NOT a good idea to read from “Helter Skelter” about the Charles Manson Family massacres to your 8 year old daughter as a bed time story. (Pause)
L o nn gg term effects….

Anyway…So that’s a little background..

Thanks to the yellow pages, my first job out of college was working for an adoption agency as a counselor to expectant mothers. YEA…That lasted only a few weeks.

Actually,/ I was fired. I honestly don’t know why they hired me to begin with.
I had no experience dealing with pregnancy other than at the age of 12, watching my hamster that I had for only a week, give birth to seven baby hamsters…She ate one of them and my Dad dropped another.

So realistically, my only experience for this counselor position was that I had had sex before, while trying to AVOID pregnancy, had suffered from bad cramps, and watched a rodent mother eat her young…that’s about as close as I could get to relating to what these young, pregnant women were going through.

Twenty-one years old equipped with only a bachelors degree, bad hamster care, and excruciating cramps and the agency sent me off to Chicago the day after Christmas for several weeks of training.

How in the world am I supposed to “counsel” these young women? Assure them they are making a good decision…Just get a puppy. Taking care of a baby is way outside the parameters of daily dog care… After all, dogs don’t talk back, can’t use weapons, or do drugs, and if they get another dog pregnant, you’re not responsible for the next 18 years of your life. Simple SEE? / Let’s talk birth control.

My first case meeting was with an 18 yr. old pregnant girl old at a McDonalds on Chicago’s south west side. She was due to give birth any day, and with her were her, two small daughters; each from different fathers.
Oh, and mom’s gang-related. “What? Yea…Nice homemade tattoos.
No, I don’t want one. They look really good on you though.”

“So, what colors should I not be wearing in this hood right now? Hummm… Freezing verses drive by shooting?

Okay, I’ll lose the coat and shirt… So-- it’s snowing, only 18 degrees outside with a wind-chill factor of -14

Questions I need to ask at the next Staff Meeting:
Do I need, as my dad would say, “to pack heat” for this job?…Do I need to get a gun permit or a gang code handbook? Can we go over my benefits, as in Life Insurance? (build) employee protection plan as in a body guard …maybe relocation if necessary as in Des Moines?

Their reason for letting me go? … They didn’t like questions.
ANY QUESTIONS! That led to inflexibility.

“So, the birth mother did a few a drugs and is mildly retarded? You gotta problem with that?” …“The kid will be fine, maybe just a touch of addiction or fetal alcohol syndrome… “Eh, you want to go see that ‘Drag Queen Show’ tonight, before Nikki goes into Labor?” “What’s your name again?”

… “Eh, FORGET ABOUT IT.”

Do I have a choice? I’ll just get my bag. Do I have time to make a quick call? Did I mention that my dad flew Mafioso, Sammy, “The Bull”, Gravano, to his trial before he testified against mob boss, John Gotti and Vinni the Chin? Yea…They’re pretty tight now…
That call?
AAAGGGHHHH !!!!

Evidently, I wasn’t “flexible enough”. Too many questions for the “Bada Bing- You Want A Baby, No Questions Asked- No Trails Or Birth Parents To Surface” Adoption Agency.
Buh Bye, Bada Bing…

I had to sleep with the lights on for a few months…
Did I say that my name is Libby?

Thank you…and have a great night!

The Shadow of the 42nd Birthday....

Well, it's my first time to blog on my own site.

It's 2 days after my 42nd birthday and I think I am finally back to what is likely my natural haircolor- a very dull shade of brown. I haven't known the actual color in about 20 years. Hey, no gray! I am shocked! After what these three kids, my husband and this neurotic schnauzer have put me through? It's amazing I'm sane enough to even notice.

I need to make a note to myself to schedule a hearing test. We were just driving by some property with horses; it's raining out and my nine year old daughter, Anna, was expressing concern about the horses getting wet. From the backseat ( of course ), she asked me a question and it sounded like, "Mom, did Pop-Pop (my dad) grow up in a barn?

WHAT? yikes....I know I mentioned he came from modest means and earned a football scholorship to the University of Vermont without a Meal account, etc. But BARN?

What she actually asked: Did Pop-Pop grow up near a "FARM"?

Oh...yes, N.J... near farms. Don't hit that curb, Libby. I could never live down hitting our neighbor's horse. Get eyes checked too.