Sunday, February 14, 2010

Girls...the ultimate enemy

So, I'm not the type of girl...I guess I'm technically a women, even though I feel like the term woman means someone going through menopause, but that's a completely different story for a completely different blog.  Anywho, back to the subject, I am not the type of "woman" who typically interacts with other "women" by choice.  The reasons for this practice is mostly because of cat fights, back stabbings, lashing tongues, pulled hair, black know, the type of stuff one tries to avoid especially when they are 27.   Being that I am so far away from home I'm not around the constant care or in the daily lives of my two bff's BK and Sarah who much like me hate the chick drama.  I have become very lonely and sad lately and decided that I should reignite a friendship that ended in disaster and thought it would be okay to give someone another chance.  Turns out tonight I figured out all of the reasons this girl friendship and others have been nothing but poison waiting to kill me.  Today is Valentines Day, and although I have somewhat of a "Valentine" per-say I don't really have a valentine.  It's complicated.  Lets leave it at that.  Instead of enjoying a night out with the girls like I had thought I would, I ended up getting crucified by this friend for something I didn't even do.  Being that I am out of high school I thought claiming guys (something I was very guilty of doing in high school and part of college) was something you grew out of.  Why not?  I did.  I figured everyone else would have done so as well.  WRONG! Last night the "girls" went out...and there was a guy that I talked to.  Little did I know that someone had "called" him.  I saw them hanging out later that night and figured, good for them I hope she's happy blah blah blah. No ill will or hate or anger or curses went through my mind, unlike right now.  Turns out this guy starts talking to me again and I tell him he needs to go hang out with my buddy cause she likes him blah blah blah, waste of my breath.  Obviously nothing happens.  I send him on his marry little way thinking all is well and that I did a valiant thing for my friend.  Low and behold today, valentines day, when I meet up with the same crew before we hit the movies, this "friend" of mine has already started bloodying up the waters of what a terrible friend I am.  She then proceeds to tell my friend (one chair length away from me, well within my hearing ability) that we are "friends, but we are not friends ANYMORE!" and how could I possibly have done that to her.  I was totally disrespectful blah blah blah.  Here's my issue...WTF!!! I told the guy to hang with is that disrespectful?  What did she want me to do? Take him home? I would think THAT would be worthy of all the hell I was getting tonight.  I took the beatings and low blows and bashing for a good 6 hours.  Then...I flipped out like no one has ever seen.  And now, I sit here, at my house, alone, on Valentines day writing a blog about how terrible women are.  Honestly I'm amazed at the fact that Valentines Day even lasted one season.  I mean if you put it in perspective, how does one vicious women keep a man for more than a day.  I lasted  6 hours with the nagging, complaining, bad talking etc...  No wonder we are single.  No wonder guys are terrified of marrying us!  No wonder, especially if they have looked at their mothers or sisters or friends that are girls that they are even attracted to us.  Some aren't and I think it's totally our fault!  WE ARE ALL CRAZY!! God bless the married men, boyfriends, and others who either find some redeeming quality in our kind.  It's either that or they are afraid of being torn to pieces.  Hell, I'm even afraid of us, I'm especially afraid of myself after flipping out tonight.  The statistics say that men typically die before women.  This may be, because they are constantly sleeping with one eye open and walking on egg shells.  I would imagine this would cause blood pressure to skyrocket and increase ones chances of having a heart attack.  Fellas...God bless you!! Everyone!

Saturday, August 22, 2009


I was driving one of my cheerleaders home today after our car wash fundraiser and we had a small conversation which lead me to realize that I'm more or a ditz than I will admit.  She recently moved here from New Jersey...I'll keep my comments to myself...and I was asking her what she thought of Virginia.  She gave me the typical teenage answer "it's interesting".  Now I don't know about you, but when I use the word "interesting" its usually when I'm eating something repulsive made by someone I love, and the word "interesting" is supposed to convince them that the green color in my face is out of pure enjoyment rather than that of needing to puke pronto.  In trying to convince this young girl that Virginia wasn't so bad, she asked me where I lived.  This is when I realized that I had lost this conversation 100%.  Leesburg Virginia is where I currently hang my hat.  For those of you who don't watch the news or who don't live in Virginia let me tell you a little about the safeness of this little town.  Last week a twenty something year old was attacked and killed by a dog.  A few months ago there were multiple robberies carried out in one day by the same people which ended in a hostage situation.  Leesburg residents were asked to stay indoors.  This is only the tip of the iceberg.  There have been many assaults, attacks, and deaths in Leesburg, which should have creeped me out long before today.
Honestly I don't know what is wrong with me!  I have been RUNNING...LONG DISTANCE...BY MYSELF...IN LEESBURG...AT NIGHT!!! Did it never occur to me that I could get hurt or attacked??!! I am short, don't weigh much, and I am a girl.  Do I think I can fight one or more people off when being attacked?  NO!  Add into the mix the fact that I'm exhausted by the end of my long distance runs and I would be totally lethargic! This brings to light many times where I have noticed that the same car has driven past me multiple times while I have been running.  Also, some of these cars slow down almost to the point where they are stopped, and they just stare.  Me being the kindergarten teacher thinks: "Oh, they are probably lost.  I wonder if they need directions?"  When I should be thinking: "Where is the closest house?  Who is the nearest person I can see that can hear me scream!?  Where is my mace?!" Can't you just see me running up to the car of the person who is about to kidnap me and I ask him/her (I'm not biased...chicks are crazy too) if they need directions!!!?  I am an easy kill!! A walking advertisement for Target Super Stores everywhere!  While in heaven  people would be sharing their stories of how they died.  Each being a tragic and unexpected chain of events that lead to their untimely demise...until its my turn to share. I think if I actually did get to heaven the very fact that my stupidity lead to my death would be reason enough to be thrust down into the depths of hell!! That being said...I need to go running.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

My First Blog

I suppose I should be really proud of myself for entering the blogging world.  So I shall relate this first blog to something stellar. Here are my top five stellar choices: my first haircut ( I have GREAT hair!), my first word ("makeup"...go figure), my first boyfriend (Mitchell Torgerson...5th grade...glad I didn't marry him and keep his last name), my first car (Big Blue...which was a large flat bed truck), and my first pair of high heel shoes.  All are great I'll let you choose.
 I called this blog Write, Right, Wright for many reasons.  The first being that my last name is Wright.  So many people loved to torment me with the phrase, "Hey Miss Wright!  Have you found (nudge nudge) Mr. Right?" Ah ha ha ha.  How original. Homophones...aren't they great! Throughout my high school years I really gained a great love of writing, although I can't spell worth beans (that's why spell check was invented), I love putting thoughts onto paper.  I've really missed that whole writing process, so I'm really excited to do this.  Even if no one ever reads my blog, it's a nice escape for me.

For those of you who know me and all my quirkyness I apologize for this unnecessary intro to my life. For those of you who don't know me that well, this will be fun!!! 

I grew up in a small town called Santaquin, located in the totally fab state of Utah!  What does one do in a town named after the jolly old guy who leaves us presents under our tree (whom we can no longer talk about in school because it offends people...whatever...that aren't christian)?  Well I'll tell you what my dad, brother and I did every summer, we farmed honey!!  Yes, I know what you must be thinking, and yes bee keeping is a profession.  I do consider myself somewhat of a proficient when it comes to bee knowledge and useless facts, so lets get some things straight.  My major pet peeve is when people and children say they were "bit by a bee!"  I'm sorry but the last time I checked...bees didn't have teeth.  They do however, have stingers.  So if bit is to teeth than stung is to...stinger!!!! So now you can say you were "stung by a bee!"

My mother was an Elementary School Principal for many years in Provo, which was about 30 minutes north of my town.  So my brother and I went to her school until 6th grade and then went to Middle School, Jr. High, and High School with all of our neighbor kids. There were pluses and minuses in going this route with my education and choice of educational peers.  One positive was that my nick name, "Bucky Beaver", would remain in elementary school with kids I would never see again.  After getting my braces in fifth grade, no one was the wiser that I truly was a tragedy as far as teeth were concerned.  A minus, at the time, was that while riding in the car with my mom, we would listen to what is now referred to as "oldies music" and I LOVED it!!  James Taylor, Phil Collins, The Police, Duran Duran, The Gogo' named it and I could and still can sing it!! I thought I was super cool...until...I arrived in Middle School where I was the ONLY one who didn't know who TLC was which almost killed me socially.  At least I wasn't one of those kids wearing bottle caps for glasses...unlike my poor brother! :(  To this day he gets angry about how we never told him that getting those glasses would be the worst mistake he could make in high school.  I still stand by the story that we did try to warn him and he wouldn't listen.  That's my story Timbo!! And I'm stickin to it!

During my years at Payson High School I ran track, sang in the choir, and was a cheerleader.  To get me too and from all of these activities was my trusty car or truck I should say.  Now it was a flat bed truck, and it...was a BEAST! It took up the whole driving lane of a road and could have probably taken out my high school!!! I had to sit on TWO phone books to not see over the steering wheel, but to look THROUGH the steering wheel while I drove.  I could barely reach the pedals because I was about 4''9.  Which leads me to another useless bit of information.  In Utah, anyone under 5 feet tall is considered a "legal midget" (ha. ha. ha. REEEEEEally funny. I know gives you hope for this blog doesn't it?) which requires a "legal midget" to hang a handicap sign from the rearview mirror.  Now, being the prideful and shy person I was...during drivers ed when I found this out I was MORTIFIED! So I did what any self respecting christian "legal midget" would do,  I lied.  On my paper work I filled in the height box with 5"0.  Yup.  Didn't get too far with my drivers ed teacher however.  He called me out in front of everyone!!! "Melissa!! How tall are you?!! Because you seem to have made a mistake, you wrote 5"0 tall!!! You are nowhere near that tall!"   I begged him to please please please not make me a "legal midget"!  He let me off the hook, however, my dad was not so kind.  For months I remember driving with him and as we would drive past the front row joe handicapped spots...he would say "We COULD have parked there if SOMEONE had their handicapped pass!"

 Welcome to my family, welcome to my life. There are many stories to tell, and many more that have yet to happen.