Throwback Thursday - Would you prefer maggots?

It was during the era of Mandyland described below that I like to believe Polly was born.  I was in a seriously negative place emotionally and it ended up knocking enough sunshine and sparkles off my eternal optimist to make her tolerable.



Image courtesy of Lynn Kelley Author



Below is a piece I wrote during the struggle.  

"Lately, I’ve been trying really hard to hold onto my positivity.  I’m a born optimist.  I won the Spirit Award at my high school, and was always the member of my team cheering “We can do it!”  Lately, though, I feel that little optimist inside me dying.  A rollercoaster of ups and downs that have left Little-Miss-Optimist reeling and about to wheeze out her final death rattle, and in anticipation of her death, like a vulture, my internal pessimist is circling.  Little-Miss-Pessimist is closing in and boy oh boy is she CRANKY!

You know those people on Facebook whose status updates proclaim, “Love my life”, or “So blessed”?  They feel so happy and  lucky and thankful that they need to share their gratitude with the world.  

Well, Little-Miss-Pessimist HATES them. Seriously, she wants to punch them in the face and then ask,

“How much do you love your life now?”

Recently, I picked up a bit of on-the-side work for my brother-in-law, requiring me to go through 4 ½ years of paperwork and make note of certain transactional details.  He is paying a VERY nice hourly wage, I can work on it from home (thus eliminating the need for childcare) and it’s the extra income we need right now.

Hooray! Maybe a reprieve for Little-Miss-Optimist?  Just the booster shot of happiness she needs?

Nope, Little-Miss-Pessimist is too strong and the details of the job are delicious fuel for the likes of her.  This job has got to be the most mind numbingly boring gig I’ve EVER had.  Permanent blindness is sure to occur from this project.  I’ve worked 14 hours so far and I’m not even a quarter of the way through.  

Little-Miss-Optimist says, “Hooray, you’re going to make some great bank from this job!”  

Little-Miss-Pessimist says, “I’d rather eat glass!”

Taking a break from the stacks of horrible paperwork, I took my little girl to the park, and while chatting with a one of the other moms she told me her cats had ended up bringing fleas into the house, and ever since the battle against the tiny pests started she couldn’t stop itching.  As she finished her story, Little-Miss-Optimist reared up to offer the following consolation.

While living in Guam, everyone I knew battled against the same innocuous pest.  The common House Fly.  While the battle against the pests raged on I heard a horror story that left my skin crawling.  A couple had bought their dog one of those giant chew bones that last forever, and their dog LOVED his new treat.  He carried it around the house everywhere with him, showing off to visitors and pranching around with glee.   

The dog's masters would smile sweetly at their fury little companion, so pleased he loved their gift, and content in the knowledge that they were the best furparents EVER. 

If only they had known there was a stowaway in the dog’s bone.

See, an adult fly had found the bone the perfect safe and cozy place to lay its eggs.  So, as the sweet dog carried his favorite item around the house, he was unwittingly spreading the eggs everywhere, where they settled into the carpets, and being just as safe and cozy as in the bone, eventually hatched. 

The Result?  Every surface in the small home was infested with wriggling dirty disgusting MAGGOTS!!!

An urban legend? Maybe.

Gross? Um, that goes without saying.

Finishing the story, and ignoring the look of horror on the other woman’s face, my Little-Miss-Optimist took a nice deep breath and gave Little-Miss-Pessimist a swift kick in the pants.  The story was a reminder that even if things seem as bad they could get, they could always get worse.

Because which would you prefer?  Fleas or Maggots?

A little ray of sunshine to brighten whatever pile of crap you are currently dealing with,

Mandy:)"

And with that Polly’s tagline was born.

Crap, fleas, maggots and sunshine, because sugar and spice were just so cliche!

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Throw Back Thursday – Yuck it Up

Image courtesy of Lynn Kelley Author

A little over 2 years ago, I was one of about a million people DESPERATELY trying to rejoin the workforce during the worst economic decline since the depression.  As a distraction and challenge (and because Jessica Made Me Do It) I decided to start a blog, and in a fit of EXTREME creativity I called it Mandyland.

Watch out world, I’m a genius.

This is one of the first entries I ever wrote.  My pain, here for your amusement!  ENJOY!

It had been a week since I had last been rejected and I was taking it as confirmation of my worst fears.  I had zero job skills, was completely devoid of personality and was destined to spend the rest of my days as a Wal-Mart Greeter, and to add injury to insult, I was getting sick.  It was while I was laying on the couch feeling seriously sorry for myself, indulging in Kleenex and hot tea, that the phone rang and the proceeding nightmare began.  A firm I had applied to a few days earlier wanted to conduct a quick over-the-phone interview.

Quietly clearing the 50 year old smoker from my throat, and attempting to clear up the river of mucus flowing from my nose, I dragged my butt off the couch, turned on the personality, and proceeded to answer her questions.  Somehow, I pulled it off because she asked me to come in the next day at 4:00 pm for an interview.

Rule #1 in the Job Hunting Handbook: ALWAYS SAY YES!

“Mrs. Allen, would you be available for a skills test tomorrow at noon?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Mrs. Allen, would you mind running through our company obstacle course, so we can evaluate your problem solving skills?”

“Oh, how fun!  I’d love to!”

“Mrs. Allen, could we please have a sample of your DNA so we can clone you, and get two employees for the price of one?”

“Wow, what a great idea!  Here, let me help you with that cotton swab.”

After assuring the woman on the phone that 4:00 pm would not be a problem, and scrambling for last minute childcare, I felt pretty good, for about a nanosecond.  Then the adrenalin wore off and I started feeling sick.  Actually, I started feeling REALLY sick.  My cold symptoms were rapidly mutating into flu like symptoms.  Nauseous and head pounding my husband sent me to bed.

The next day I felt like death warmed over.  The headache was gone, but my throat felt like sandpaper, my nose was stuffed solid and I was bone tired.  Steering my body toward the couch I tried for a bit of rest before I had to leave.  At about noon I hauled my mouth breathing, hacking, and mucus filled body upstairs to make myself presentable.  Reaching for my hairbrush I glanced in the mirror to find my face was COVERED in a red, raised, hive-like rash!  In horror over my face, I leaned in to get a better look only to find the biggest most disgusting zit of my life growing out of the side of my neck.

I’m NOT exaggerating, this zit was big! Think bug bites, chicken pox, boils!  Seriously, it looked like it was alive!

So, why not just call and reschedule, right?  They would have understood.

ARE YOU CRAZY!?!?

This was a job interview!  An invitation so difficult to obtain in this economy that short of Armageddon, you suck it up and go!

River of blood?  Get a boat.

The sun is blotted out?  Get a flashlight.

Plagues of pocks and boils?  Welcome to my world.  Slap on some makeup and get in the car!

Alright, so off to my interview I go!  Three hours of sleep, breathing through my mouth, sounding like a lifelong smoker, a hideous rash all over my face, and a zit on the side of my neck the size of Jupiter.  Yes siree, I’m feeling confident and ready to rock!

Or maybe someone could just shoot me and put me out of my misery!

I dug deep!  I spent the intervals between questions drinking tea, and discreetly coughing or wiping my nose, while simultaneously trying not to wipe off the makeup covering the pestilence on my face, and in the end my effort was rewarded.  The interviewer loved me and I was invited back Monday to meet with the President and VP of the company.

Yay, a happy ending, right?!  The moral of the story, overcome any obstacle and you will be rewarded!

Well, not really.  All that and I by the end of the next week I’d received another rejection for my troubles.

The butt of an ongoing universal joke,
Mandy:)

Except, in the end the universe actually DID get the last laugh.  Not 3 months later I got a call from this same company.  The position had become available again, and the next day I was hired.  It’s been my Day Job for the last 2 years.

I’m sure the Universe felt the whole incident was character building…

But I’m pretty sure she’s just a vindictive bitch!

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The Bringer of Nightmares

Being a creative type person I am both blessed and cursed with an overactive imagination.  For instance I am 31 years old, and I am terrified of Zombies.

Yes, I realize Zombies don’t really exist.

Yes, I know that likelihood of a Zombie hiding in my shower, lurking at my bedroom window, or bursting through my front door is pretty much nil.

Yes, I am aware that the really scary, superfast, rip your face off in the blink of an eye type Zombies you see in the movies are 100% fictional.

For goodness sake, I’m a grown adult!  Of course I know these things, but it doesn’t change the fact that any time I am witness to any type of Zombiecentric entertainment what-so-ever, I will spend the remainder of the night jumping and twitching at every shadow and noise in my bedroom.

Like I said, overactive imagination.

So imagine my horror as I was trolling through Etsy, my not-so-secret obsession, and I found this.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/85408605/weird-vintage-rushton-stuffed-animal

Jesus, Mary and Joseph!!!!  Call an exorcist, because I’m about 99.99999% sure that this “toy” is possessed!

Really, who would give this to their child to play with?!?!?

http://www.etsy.com/listing/85408605/weird-vintage-rushton-stuffed-animal

Oh, and in case you simply must own this horror movie waiting to happen, you’ll be happy to know it is currently on sale,  That’s right, now for the low, low price of $8.00.  According the listing that is a savings of THIRTY DOLLARS !

Just think, with the $30 you save, you’ll be able to invest in a metal lock box.  Believe me you will need one to make sure this tiny ambassador of pure evil doesn’t sneak up on you when you are sleeping and…

STEAL YOUR SOUL!!!

What about you guys?  Ever found something like this?  A toy so creepy it needed to be locked in a box and buried at the bottom of a deep dark hole, for the sake of all humanity?

Sweet Dreams my Lovelies!

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My Mom Hates Whistlers

Yes, you read that right. I said Whistlers. 

As in "Those-Who-Purse-Their-Lips-and-Expel-Air-Causing-a-High-Pitched-Birdlike-Noise"

Being a grown woman who has not lived with her mother for many years, this bizarre little factoid had completely slipped my mind, and for very good reason.

My Mom is one of the most positive people I know, and what could be a more positive activity than whistling?

I mean Whistle While you Work, Whistling Dixie, Whistle Your Cares Away...  

So recently when I was reminded of her irritated response to this seemingly benign and joyous expression, I had to seize the opportunity to get to the bottom of the mystery.

First, proof that I am not completely deluded when I say, my Mom is 100% upbeat and positive…

Mom, would you say “glass half full”, or “glass half empty”?

Definitely half full. There’s still liquid in the glass for goodness sake. Drink and enjoy!!

Okay, good. Just what I expected you to say. Next, what is the single most important philosophy you live by?

Enjoy each day as it happens. Don’t worry about the past, there’s nothing you can do about it except learn from your mistakes. Don’t worry about the future as it hasn’t happened yet and you’re wasting the day that you have in front of you.

Yup, I gotcha. Right in line with the woman who raised me. So, in the spirit of Pep Talk Polly, what is the best thing someone can do, in the moment, when they find themselves in a “pile of crap”?  

Laugh!!! It clears your mind and helps you to deal with whatever crap life hands you.

Perfect! Now, let’s get to the nitty gritty. You like music, right?

You bet. I love to sing along with a good melody.

Good so my memories of you singing to Miss M when she was little weren’t just the delusions of a sleep deprived mama! Thank goodness for that! So, if you love music and singing, what gives, what do you have against Whistling?!?!?

There are very few people who do it well and it hurts my ears. It’s like nails on a chalk board.

I see. So you’re sort of a whistling snob.  Only the best for your ears.  Do YOU know how to whistle?

A little, but I’m terrible at it.

Interesting!  Could it be your dislike is a little bit of jealousy?  How about when the Dwarves sing “Whistle While You Work”, in Disney’s Snow White? Feel any urges to duct tape their mouths closed?

Not really. The Dwarves do it well and it’s fun to listen to. It fits the theme of the story and makes you tap your feet to the music.

Ah, I see! So, it’s not that you hate all whistling, just the people who suck at it.   Whenever I whistle I inevitably hear the disapproving, “Amanda, really?!?”, so I guess that's you saying MY whistling sucks.

Ouch, gotta say that stings just a little! Hmmmmmm, how do you feel about humming? Is that okay?

I don’t mind humming unless the person is lousy at it and/or hums the same thing over and over and over again. If that’s the case, they should be shot along with any whistlers!!

Yikes, message received! No more whistling in front of you! I’ve got a child to raise!

Or maybe I’ll get some lessons. Anyone know a Master of Whistling?

In the meantime, in honor of Mother’s Day, what weird pet peeve does your Mom have?

Here’s to you Mom, I promise I will refrain from whistling in your honor today.  LOVE YOU!!!

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