1 Year Anniversary

Before I begin with tonight's blog, I would like to start of by saying thank you. Thank you for reading about all of my crazy rants and thoughts that circle my mind on a daily basis. For those of you new to my blog, go ahead and click on any link to the right of this post in the archives section. I can assure you that you won't be disappointed.

Actually, even if you are a returning viewer, just reread them again. You will probably do one of two things once you click on a link:

1. You will laugh hysterically at everything I write. You will shred tears and your heart may even stop because you can no longer breathe.

2. Fear me. My words are very strong.

It's All Just Wrong!

Have you ever spent an evening in a restaurant were everything seemed to go wrong? The food was wrong, the waiter was wrong, everything was wrong, wrong, wrong!

Let me tell you all about an incident I had with my friends last Sunday at BJ's Brewery in San Rafael. It was my friend's 21st birthday and to celebrate, we decided to head out to BJ's for some happy hour drinks and appetizers, as well as an actual meal. First, let me take a step back to the phone conversation my friend had with the woman who answered the call to take down our name and reservation.

Woman: Hello, this is BJ's Blah Blah Blah.

Friend: Hi I wanted to make a reservation for tonight at 6:30pm for a party of 9.

Woman: 9? Did you say 9 people?

Friend: Yes, I did.

Woman: *huffs and puffs and sighs* Well.........*long pause*.........That's a lot of people for a dinner reservation. Especially at 630pm.

Friend: Soooooo, do we need to reschedule for a later time tonight?

Woman: Well.............that's just a lot of people. I'm going to need to clear this with my manager first. Hold on.

*5 minutes later*

Woman: Hello? Yeah, We can fit you in at 630pm, but it's going to be a busy night.

Friend: Well...ok. We are still coming.

Woman: Ok, *distasteful tone* see you then. *sighs and hangs up*




Ok, so I think we can all agree that this employee could use a few tips on proper phone etiquette.

Anyways, we blew off her bitchy attitude and went out for the day. As time wore on, we headed out to the brewery to enjoy one another's company while sipping on Wild Berry Mojitos and beer.
Unfortunately, our experience was less than enjoyable. Actually, I am reconsidering ever going to that specific location again.
Our waiter approaches us, only gives us waters for half the table, then disappears for about 15 minutes. Realizing he might be busy, we let him off the hook since we were still trying to decide what  happy hour drinks and appetizers we wanted to buy.

As a disclaimer, I was at this restaurant the week before and sat at the exact same table. It was happy hour and even though we were not sitting at the bar, we were still able to order from the happy hour menu. This time, our waiter told us that he couldn't give it to us because we were not at the bar!
What the heck is this nonsense! Why are these employees never on the same page!?
After this waiter consults with his manager, he is cleared to give me the happy hour menus.

We asked to each have separate checks, then proceed to order our drinks and ONE spinach and artichoke dip appetizer. Twenty-five minutes later our drinks arrive and he takes our order for our meals. We go around the table ordering, with two people sharing a meal. Two of us ordered burgers to be cooked medium and one burger had added bacon.
Thirty minutes later, our food arrives. The burgers are cooked so well done that I am pretty sure they set it on fire and forgot about it. Also, the bacon on the burger wasn't cooked! The pig was still oinking!

We held our tongue because service was already slacking. We ate our meal in near silence and when we finished we waited for our dessert menu. Instead, he brought us the check and didn't even ask us about dessert! The only reason I was still there is so I could eat that damn pizooki!
We kindly corrected him, he brought us the menus, we ordered, we ate, then we waited for our separate checks.

Unfortunately, when our waiter came back, he did not have separate checks for us. He did, however, tell us that our ordering was "too" confusing for him. Instead, he had us each write down what we ordered on a piece of paper, then hand the paper back to him. While reviewing the check, we ale discovered that he charged us for regular priced appetizers instead of the happy hour price and continued to claim that this was what we ordered. THEN, this fool spent another 30 minutes attempting to split the checks.

Highway 37

Day 1: It's 7:45am and I am getting ready to walk out of my house and to my car. It's my last first day of class today and all I can think of is, "Dear Traffic Gods, Please let there be no traffic. Please let me get to class without an urge of flipping people off and have untamed fury raging through my veins."


This was a real thought I had when I stepped into my car and started Precious (my car) up. Misery flooded my brain and heart as I made my way down my street and onto the dreaded Highway 37.


First things first (yes I am the realest), traffic was absolutely horrendous on my first day of school. Every Tom, Dick, and Jane decided that my first day of my senior year of college was also Make-Madison's-Blood-Boil Day.
Never in my life have I seen so many cars on the road at one time, unless it's a holiday. BUT, I guess I did mention that all the people in the world made this a holiday just for me, so in theory, that day was a holiday.


Ok. Let's flash forward to me actually being on Highway 37. There is so much construction throughout the marsh restoration area, for a split second I thought the Traffic Gods were giving me a sign. They were telling me "I know Madison. Traffic is bad today. But soon, it will be better. Soon, there will be two lanes and not one. Soon, you will have limited road rage. Soon, the suffering will be over." I really did think this. Of course, it seemed too good to be true, sooooooo I did some research. It turns out that there will be no second lane when driving from Vallejo to Marin County! My heart sank into the bottom of my stomach as I continued to read about the restoration.


Not only is there going to be ONE lane for what seems like forever, but the restoration people plan to turn all that mess they have going on into a lake-ish thing that "will be open to the public to explore on foot, bicycle or kayak (Read More Here)."
Do these people realize that there is one lane with a barrier protecting people from the only other lane on 37 going in the opposite direction!? How the hell are people going to get over to this new "sanctuary?!"
Ok. Let's say that people do decide they want to check this marsh out once it is complete. I have two problems with this:


1. Traffic is already terrible. Do they realize how much more miserable it will be with folks coming from BOTH directions on 37 at the same time!? Ain't no body got time for that! Especially when I am just trying to get to and from school as quickly and efficiently as possible. You marsh people are ruining my life!


2. I thought the point of there only being one lane in each direction was because the marsh people needed to protect the land/endangered species living there. If so, then why are you creating something that is going to allow people all over the land with their kayaks and their littering? Have you been smoking the ganja!?


In conclusion, the Traffic Gods do not like me very much and the feeling is mutual.

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

Do you ever find yourself walking through a grocery store with your list of things to buy, then suddenly become frustrated beyond belief at the food/drinks you are buying or the hygiene products you plan on using? If you don't, then apparently I am the only one and therefore a weirdo, but I'm ok with that.
In tonights edition of my blogging, I have decided to spend some quality time venting out my frustrations with apple juice, cheese, and deodorant.

Apple Juice:

I love apple juice! I tend to only purchase my apple juice from Apple Hill in Placerville during their open season, however, there are those days when I have a craving that must be satisfied. The other day, here I am at work, enjoying some coffee and thinking about deodorant (which will be explained later), when a coworker of mine says, "Hey Maditude! Here is something for your blog!"
I stop mid-thought and read the label on the apple juice container he has just handed me. Go ahead and read the bottle for yourself.

How in the heck can this be 100% pure apple juice when it had added ingredients! LIES!!!

Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your whole family!

How is it possible that this apple juice thinks it can get away with being 100% fresh, when clearly it isn't? Suddenly, I began to crave apple juice, but of course, I can no longer trust the grocery store on this one for some authentic apple juice!

Cheese:

Ok, so the cheese one is along similar lines with the apple juice. I had absolutely no idea that some cheeses were so ridiculously processed that some companies cannot even label their cheese as legit cheese! Take a look for yourself!

Pasteurized cheese product. They should just not even bother putting the word cheese all up in there. Instead, I think they should either stop attempting to make cheese, because it is clearly not working for them, or maybe just call them what they are. Yellow American Slices....or some variation of that.

Either way, these two companies are literally lying about what they are selling. They are changing the words around to make it seem like they are something they are not. Sounds like an ex-boyfriend to me...

Deodorant:

Ahhhhh, we have finally arrived at the deodorant part of my daydreaming. This doesn't really have anything to do with lies or false statements, but it does have to do with feminine hygiene. 

When I am walking down the isle, I'm looking for a nice, simple, clean and fresh scented deodorant. So why is it that every time I go looking for this, I have to walk past all these crazy sweet smelling scents like brazillian cherry or teen spirit strawberry. 

Then you have to pass the vegetable and etcetera scents, like calming cucumber and waterlilly green tea ginger. If I didn't plan on smelling like a fruit, why in God's name would I choose to smell like a vegetable!?! Why the hell would I want to smell like a cucumber!?

Once I put on my deodorant, the next thing I do is choose a perfume. I don't need my deodorant to do that for me. 

Little Missy Mae

Throughout my second semester of my junior year at Dominican University of California, I had the honor taking a Children's Literature class. During this time, not only did I learn about the different types/genres, but I was also able to write my own. Unfortunately, I also illustrated it, so the pictures do not serve this story any justice. Included in this story is a little bit about me, as well as other information that is generally included in a book proposal. I hope you all enjoy!

Summary:

Meet little Missy Mae. Unlike most children, Missy was born with special hands. These hands still work exactly like other children, but they look a little bit different. She enjoys going to the snow with her mom and dad, participating in sports with her friends, and she especially loves playing the piano. What exactly is so different about Missy’s hands? Missy was born with a total of nine fingers. Read along to find out more about little Missy Mae and the wonderful life she lives.

Author’s Biography:

         Madison Munson is a current Creative Writing Minor at Dominican University of California, located in San Rafael. With a love for children, especially her 4-year old niece and 2-year old nephew, writing for the younger generation has always held a special place with Madison. Growing up, she had witnessed other children facing different challenges without fully understanding that they are still just like her. Writing a children's book for those who were born or grew up a little bit different is something Madison wants to put forth into the world and show everyone that it is ok to be different. Previously, she has been published with OpEd News, an online magazine. Her paper, “How to Graduate from College Debt-Free!” is a satire about making child sweatshops a more realistic option to help pay off their future college loans. This paper also includes an exclusive interview with Senior Editor of OpEd, Joan Brunwasser. Other published works can be found on Dominican University’s online journal, The Tuxedo.

Target Audience: 

         My target audience is for children in preschool and kindergarten, particularly ages 4-6. Children of this age with keep this book with them because of its uniqueness. It tells a short story about a young girl who has a missing finger. Although this is just a small part of the human body, her hands still stand out from others. When a child grows up looking the slightest bit different from others, they might stand in the light they aren't particularly fond of. This book has the ability to show children that it is ok to look different. It also contains an underlying message about equality and treating others the way you would like to be treated. Missy Mae never encounters a bully, but she does encounter inner self-confidence issues. She sometimes has a difficult time accepting her hands as they are, however, her parents support her and love her just as she is, and so do her friends. Missy is not defined as a child with nine fingers, but as a little girl who loves to play the piano, jump rope with her friends, and go to the snow with her parents.

Competition:

• "The Gift of Grace" - Grace Mary McClelland

Published By: The Wild Onion Press in 201

• ”The Tree With No Limbs" - Christine Marie Johnson

Published By: Tate Publishing & Enterprises in 2008

• "The Making of My Special Hand: Madison's Story"3. - Jamee Riggio

Published By: Peachtree in 1998

• "Imagine...Amazing Me!" - Libbi Chilia

Published By: Halo Publishing International in 2008

• "Oliver's High Five" - Beverly Swerdlow Brown 

Published By: Health Press in 1998

• "Charlie: The Dog That Didn't Have a Paw" - Delaney and Ria Hurst

American Printing & Copying in 2010

All of these books contain information about children or animals who have missing hands or legs. One book, The Gift of Grace even tells the story of a young girl who was born with incredibly small hands. My book differentiates from the above books in one specific way: only Missy’s finger is missing. Instead of there being a large part of physical self gone, only a small and almost unnoticeable portion is missing. Missy still faces the same challenges that these children with with more obvious challenges face, just in a different way.  This reminds readers that not all challenges people face are obvious. Sometimes, they can be nearly unnoticeable to the naked eye, such as mental disabilities or minor physical ones similar to little Missy Mae.

Manuscript Specifications:

         This is an eight page, 200-word, picture book read with the incorporation of rhyming to enhance the child’s experience. Each page contains a picture related to what Missy Mae is experiencing or feeling at that moment in time. Most importantly, these pictures focus on Missy doing the same activities that other children with ten fingers can do, like playing the piano, jump rope, and basketball.

Outline:

Beginning: The beginning of the book focuses on what kind of person Missy Mae is like. She is a girl who, although having only nine fingers, still has plenty of friends who treat her just like everyone else. She takes trips to the snow with her parents, she is a great piano player, and she enjoys playing basketball and jumping rope.

Middle: The middle part of the book is where Missy Mae experiences self-conscious concerns about only having nine fingers. Her parents step in and reassure her that she is not alone. They remind her that there are other people who have all ten fingers, but are missing a leg or cannot see or hear. 

End: Finally, Missy recomposes herself and is happy once again. She is able to continue doing the things she loves most and goes out to play with her friends.

Big Boobs Deserve Affordable Bras!!!

Starbucks often gives me the name MadDison because I am well endowed in the D-Cup category of bra sizes. Yes, I am serious. Nine out of ten times, my name is written with an extra D. Coincidence? I think not.

Being a woman with a rather, eerrr, fuller bust, I feel that I must explain my biggest frustration to you all. This frustration is price.

Below is a picture of a bra from Target under their "light support" sports bra section. What this section should really say is "small-to-no-boobs."

Notice how this bra is marked at the low cost of $9.99. That is quite the bargain, isn't it?! These women have it made! Target describes this section of bras as support for "yoga and walking." I don't know about you, but if I wore this while doing yoga, my boobs would bust out of this within the first five minutes. It is COMPLETELY unrealistic. Also, where the hell would I be walking in this?! My fridge? Because that's about as far as this bra would make it before I started to sag like 90 year old woman who doesn't know the meaning of a bra. I might as well just continue to use my day-to-day bras, which would offer a shit-ton more support than this sports bra, which apparently can only support something the size of a pea.

The second picture below is from Target's "medium support" section. 

In this picture we see a bra by the same brand marked up to $19.99. Target claims that this is for activities like "sport and weight training." I am going to assume this bra is for all you C-Cuppers out there. And on that note, I will "C" this bra later, because once again, it still does not offer enough support, although I can get away wearing two of these (which would mean paying $39.98). Target, you can't fool me or my chest. We know what works and what doesn't.

Finally, we have arrived at the "high support" section.

I know what you are thinking. "This bra is $22.99 and offers D-Cup support without killing your bank account."
Well guess what I think? I think you should shut up because you don't know what you're talking about. This was one of two total options in this section. What would happen if I tried this on and it itched or still didn't offer enough support? Then what would I do?
The first bra had six different styles along with loads of color options.
The second bra had ten different styles with a crap ton of colors also.
What did the third bra get? TWO BRAS. What the hell Target?! Just because I have a bigger chest, it doesn't mean I should suffer because small boobs require less material! It's not like I got a boob job!

Ok, so I think you see where I am going with this. Don't get me wrong. I freaking love Target, but this is unacceptable. Who's with me!?

It isn't just Target either. Nike is doing it too!

In conclusion to my rant on bras, lower that price for a fellow woman. I'm over here trying to do my thing. I'm ballin on a budget and trying to save wherever I can, but this area is killing me and my chest!

People of Bart

Over the past few days (ok, months), I've been contemplating on what I should write about. I keep seeing all of these crazy things in Vallejo, so I thought to myself: Should I write about Vallejo again or is it too soon? The answer I gave myself was that it was too soon, however, I haven't done a post about Bart. So guess what! Bart is my topic for the day!

Last summer I spent the majority of my time working in San Francisco at the Americas Cup Pavilion. This meant that I took bart. A lot. I made an album on Facebook dedicated to the wild and outrageous sightings during the 45-minute ride to and from the city. 

The other day I took Bart to the Pride Parade when something amazing happened! I found a woman sticking out like a sore thumb in the crowd! I swear, she coined the word "Hippy."

Anywho, below are my pictures of Bart, which can also be found on my Facebook in case you're my friend on there.

She spoke "alien" and loves the color blue. She also hates it when random people take photos of her. Whoops!

This man spoke to a walkman. According to him, "Shane poisoned my ice cream and now i cant eat it!" He proceeded to throw his ice cream (haagen dazs, the good stuff).

Although this is a blurry picture, the focus should be on his arm. This man had an arm tattoo of the Three Stooges. Larry, Curly, and Moe would be proud. I, on the other hand, find this rather weird.

Why yes. That is a used diaper. Please excuse me while I throw up now.

I wonder if he knows that this train doesn't go to Wizzard School.

Where the hell did the front half of her pants go!?

This man went on a yelling rant throughout bart, accusing two of my coworkers of being lesbians. Lesbihonest for a minute. I wouldve feared for my life if I were them.

This woman replaced her baby with shit ton of bags. No baby in sight. Not even when she got off at her stop! Hashtag: That Shit Cray.

Old people looking at a map that im sure dates back to the early 1900s (much like the ones my grandparents use).

Drunk. Passed out. Woke up. Asked a stranger if she could buy a bag from him so she could throw up. NASTSASS.

This woman is a legit hippy to be able to sit comfortably on Bart. On the floor. When it is crowded. And we are on Bart. BART.