I would call this challenge a success and I still have about six technical entries left in order to call it complete. After the response to my music post of favorite songs, and sharing something uncomfortable, I think some of the last few parts of the challenge are a little unnecessary.
One of them is about my best physical features and to quote the great Kristen Bell, whom I look up to and adore, I don't want to indulge in "a comparison hangover." I also think that physical features are subjective. I once had a crush tell me that my nose and my ass on my best friend's body would be "one banging ass chick." So my only good features are my nose and my butt? Recently I had someone else tell me it was my smile. Doesn't it depend on who you're talking to? And why indulge in more judgement when the world is already so judgmental?
Another challenge was to list favorite blogs. As a blog writer I'm quite the "faker" because I don't read many blogs. I don't have much free time and it's really hard for me to want to read on the computer when I write, edit, post and spreadsheet all day. I'll catch a book or article from time to time but I'm a super slow reader also.
The 27th challenge is what makes me feel better, always. Kid cuddles or dog cuddles are number one but also a good movie, and a good cry. In desperate times I need Ben and Jerry's or Cold Stone. When things are really bad I need junk food like Doritos and Buffalo Chicken Dip.
The 28th challenge was to write about the last time I cried. I'm a frustrated crier so I probably shed a tear or two every other day honestly. I often feel so overwhelmed by the stress, anxiety and should-do's and can't do's that I just can't contain the frustration and it comes out of my eye ducts. I take on so much mentally, much of my own overthinking and anxious fretting for sure, but it still affects me to the point of tears. These are like cry for a minute then suck it up moments though. I was trained to never let them see you down!
The 29th was the top things on my bucket list which would be visiting New Zealand and another European Trip, this one with my daughter. I studied in Europe nearly 11 years ago and I had the time of my life. I wanted to live there. I cannot wait to take my daughter when she's like 16 or something. And New Zealand? I need the Shire and hiking yesterday!
The 30th challenge was comfort foods? See what makes me feel better, always. It kind of all goes together and doesn't require much of a post.
The last challenge was to be about my weird quirks. Oh my...there's the weird way my brain works for control and routines, the ability to maintain controlled chaos and the strange ways I have to adjust social media stuff to make it less...negative for myself. I have a lot. Let's do this, why don't you come chat with me and pick out some. That's not judgey right? Ha! We all have weirdness, some of us are just better at showing it.
I plan on writing about one more revealing type of thing before I take a bit of a break because of work and life and such. This challenge did give me what I intended, which was a really good exercise in writing again and a renewed sense of why I fell in love with writing to begin with. It got me out of a funk and away from myself, which is always a fun journey and I really appreciate those who joined me on it!
I'd still love to hear from anyone and accept all feedback, even if it might not be something I want to hear. So this wraps up the challenge part but please don't think I won't keep posting and updating!
Thursday, September 6, 2018
Wednesday, September 5, 2018
Blog Post Challenge 24: A Difficult Time In My Life
Well this is kind of an intense subject. There have been a few times in my 33 years on this planet that have been difficult and most definitely parenthood in general has been rough, but I'm going to take a risk and write about something I'm super not comfortable talking about and we'll see how it is received.
Nearly a decade ago I was finishing college and I had my world rocked. My mom has struggled with addiction my entire life. She has had periods of sobriety and also horrendous relapses for about the last 20 years. When I was 17 we learned the hard way that she and I could be great at a distance but could not coexist in the same home.
She stayed in South Florida and my dad moved me to Oregon when I was 17 to finish high school and get into college. When I was finishing at University of Oregon, my mom had just lost both of her parents within and year and had a cancer scare with a huge ovarian tumor removed. I had spent 2 weeks the previous summer before classes started, taking care of her until she was well enough to function on her own just after we had buried her mother and father.
But one cold, January morning my Uncle called me really early and told me that not only was she using again but that he needed to remove himself permanently from the situation because things had gotten so bad and she had wronged him so deeply that he needed to cut off contact. Somehow he mustered the ability to apologize to me that she had become such a mess and urged me not to stay close with her, afraid of her next moves with no family support. I spent the day home from school, 3,000 miles away from her and freaking out.
My mom had just inherited a great deal of stuff from my grandma. Most of it was sentimental but still important. My grandma's house was on the market and that was just an hour north of my mom's place at this time as well. I was worried about my grandma's stuff being lost or sold. She had done countless watercolor paintings and had some great furniture as well. Also, my then-boyfriend-now-husband and I were planning on living with my mom and putting him through school. This changed everything. We couldn't risk being around her either.
One of my Florida high school friends and my dad helped me get a storage unit and in February of my last semester I flew to Florida by myself to lock up and protect my grandmother's treasures knowing that in July when we moved to Tampa, we could get them and keep them with us.
When I got to my mom's house she was in a frenzy in the process of being evicted. She had two cars, my grandmother's old Mercedes and a Ford Escape she had promised to my husband. Her other brother was coming to get the title and the Mercedes to drive north for my cousin while he stopped to check how the house was doing on the market in Port. St. Lucie.
When I first got there she gave me this look like "Uh oh, busted." I think I had my friend's truck to pack up and make runs. It was only a matter of minutes before she started yelling at me about taking her things. Then she had quick mood change. "Well, take this stuff too," she said. "Yeah, for later and then I can have the key."
This was one of those moments in life with an addict that no one could ever prepare you for. This was when my 23 year old self, struggling to adult and protect things that are important to myself and my family has to stand strong and summons the energy to say: "Mom this is not me helping you, do you understand that? I don't want you to lose Grandma's things. This is not a favor, these are now mine and we will see what happens if you get clean. And I need the title to the car."
She told me the car was hers and the title was in a safe deposit box at the bank. I knew full well her brother was in route but dare say nothing in case she bolted. She started talking to me again about keeping her things and I finally lost it. "You get no key or access. I will be coming to get these things when we move. Your ex-husband (aka my dad) helped me get down here and by the grace of my old friend and ditching a few days of school I'm taking what's important so you don't lose ANYTHING ELSE." She looked at me blankly and asked, "Can you pay my phone bill too?"
When my uncle drove up he just walked in and said, "I'm taking the car where's the title?" My mom looked at me, enraged, "You told him I was here? You little shit! He can't take my car! SHE LEFT THAT TO ME." I walked outside and let her scream it out before my uncle came back out with the keys.
When he left in the Mercedes I finished packing up and went to crash at my friends house. My friend joked with me enough that I fooled myself into being calm. I'd given him a key to the storage unit too in case someone needed to get there fast for any reason. My mom harassed him for the next 3 months until he mailed it to me in surrender.
When I left my mom she was getting ready to live in her car, until a month later they repossessed that. When I said goodbye to her she wasn't even really her if that makes sense. I cried the entire plane ride home because in that moment I didn't know if I would see her again or she would end up dead. I came home deflated and went back to finish my last semester.
I don't tell many people that story because it's dark and uncomfortable. My mom hates being judged as some "filthy addict." If you've ever met her she doesn't ever come off that way but I had to see her at her worst. For me what makes this a difficult time is knowing that I had to be the one to help my mom hit her true rock bottom. I had to give her real consequences so she could find a reason to get healthy.
She's been sober 8 years this summer. No child of any age should have to be that strong and sometimes the weight of what that does to a person is so much heavier than you can imagine. Telling your mom to deal with the ramifications seems unfair but addiction takes over and makes her turn into someone who is not even the same person you thought you knew.
I don't share this for pity or sympathy. Most of my family doesn't know the depth of this. Most of my family doesn't talk about this and still doesn't even speak to her. So yeah this was a dark, difficult time in my life and I appreciate you reading about it. If you, too, have struggled with a life around or in addiction, just know that even when we seem like we're against you, we're with you in more ways than one. And no one's experiences with addiction are better or worse than anyone else's, the just ARE and they must be difficult times for you all as well. You are not alone and you definitely can appreciate the lighter times now, or so I have experienced!
Nearly a decade ago I was finishing college and I had my world rocked. My mom has struggled with addiction my entire life. She has had periods of sobriety and also horrendous relapses for about the last 20 years. When I was 17 we learned the hard way that she and I could be great at a distance but could not coexist in the same home.
She stayed in South Florida and my dad moved me to Oregon when I was 17 to finish high school and get into college. When I was finishing at University of Oregon, my mom had just lost both of her parents within and year and had a cancer scare with a huge ovarian tumor removed. I had spent 2 weeks the previous summer before classes started, taking care of her until she was well enough to function on her own just after we had buried her mother and father.
But one cold, January morning my Uncle called me really early and told me that not only was she using again but that he needed to remove himself permanently from the situation because things had gotten so bad and she had wronged him so deeply that he needed to cut off contact. Somehow he mustered the ability to apologize to me that she had become such a mess and urged me not to stay close with her, afraid of her next moves with no family support. I spent the day home from school, 3,000 miles away from her and freaking out.
My mom had just inherited a great deal of stuff from my grandma. Most of it was sentimental but still important. My grandma's house was on the market and that was just an hour north of my mom's place at this time as well. I was worried about my grandma's stuff being lost or sold. She had done countless watercolor paintings and had some great furniture as well. Also, my then-boyfriend-now-husband and I were planning on living with my mom and putting him through school. This changed everything. We couldn't risk being around her either.
One of my Florida high school friends and my dad helped me get a storage unit and in February of my last semester I flew to Florida by myself to lock up and protect my grandmother's treasures knowing that in July when we moved to Tampa, we could get them and keep them with us.
When I got to my mom's house she was in a frenzy in the process of being evicted. She had two cars, my grandmother's old Mercedes and a Ford Escape she had promised to my husband. Her other brother was coming to get the title and the Mercedes to drive north for my cousin while he stopped to check how the house was doing on the market in Port. St. Lucie.
When I first got there she gave me this look like "Uh oh, busted." I think I had my friend's truck to pack up and make runs. It was only a matter of minutes before she started yelling at me about taking her things. Then she had quick mood change. "Well, take this stuff too," she said. "Yeah, for later and then I can have the key."
This was one of those moments in life with an addict that no one could ever prepare you for. This was when my 23 year old self, struggling to adult and protect things that are important to myself and my family has to stand strong and summons the energy to say: "Mom this is not me helping you, do you understand that? I don't want you to lose Grandma's things. This is not a favor, these are now mine and we will see what happens if you get clean. And I need the title to the car."
She told me the car was hers and the title was in a safe deposit box at the bank. I knew full well her brother was in route but dare say nothing in case she bolted. She started talking to me again about keeping her things and I finally lost it. "You get no key or access. I will be coming to get these things when we move. Your ex-husband (aka my dad) helped me get down here and by the grace of my old friend and ditching a few days of school I'm taking what's important so you don't lose ANYTHING ELSE." She looked at me blankly and asked, "Can you pay my phone bill too?"
When my uncle drove up he just walked in and said, "I'm taking the car where's the title?" My mom looked at me, enraged, "You told him I was here? You little shit! He can't take my car! SHE LEFT THAT TO ME." I walked outside and let her scream it out before my uncle came back out with the keys.
When he left in the Mercedes I finished packing up and went to crash at my friends house. My friend joked with me enough that I fooled myself into being calm. I'd given him a key to the storage unit too in case someone needed to get there fast for any reason. My mom harassed him for the next 3 months until he mailed it to me in surrender.
When I left my mom she was getting ready to live in her car, until a month later they repossessed that. When I said goodbye to her she wasn't even really her if that makes sense. I cried the entire plane ride home because in that moment I didn't know if I would see her again or she would end up dead. I came home deflated and went back to finish my last semester.
I don't tell many people that story because it's dark and uncomfortable. My mom hates being judged as some "filthy addict." If you've ever met her she doesn't ever come off that way but I had to see her at her worst. For me what makes this a difficult time is knowing that I had to be the one to help my mom hit her true rock bottom. I had to give her real consequences so she could find a reason to get healthy.
She's been sober 8 years this summer. No child of any age should have to be that strong and sometimes the weight of what that does to a person is so much heavier than you can imagine. Telling your mom to deal with the ramifications seems unfair but addiction takes over and makes her turn into someone who is not even the same person you thought you knew.
I don't share this for pity or sympathy. Most of my family doesn't know the depth of this. Most of my family doesn't talk about this and still doesn't even speak to her. So yeah this was a dark, difficult time in my life and I appreciate you reading about it. If you, too, have struggled with a life around or in addiction, just know that even when we seem like we're against you, we're with you in more ways than one. And no one's experiences with addiction are better or worse than anyone else's, the just ARE and they must be difficult times for you all as well. You are not alone and you definitely can appreciate the lighter times now, or so I have experienced!
Blog Challenge 23: My Pet Peeves
Although I often mention diatribes, this seems like an excuse to complain. But in the spirit of adhering to the challenge, I can bite.
One of my biggest pet peeves is when people trim their nails not over a receptacle. I bring this one up because I have seen two people in my office do this. In shared spaces, if you must trim your nails, do it over a trash can, not over the floor. EW!
I also cannot stand the word HEIGHTH! That is not an actual word! It is not like WIDTH. It is HEIGHT! Generally, grammar things are my biggest pet peeves. Such as, no you may not ax me a question but you are welcome to ask me. And throw shade? Whomever coined "Throw shade at," needs to go back to school. Permanently. Oh and it is not "expresso" no matter how fast it hits you.
Oh and lastly, to quote Ross from Friends: "Y-o-u-'-r-e means YOU ARE, y-o-u-r means YOUR!"
As someone who studied grammar, I will always look up something to check instead of misusing or misspelling. My goodness being able to speak correctly is important!
Yesterday I got to write about one of my all time favorite things, music, and it was one of my highest-viewed posts. I just wanted to thank you all for going on this blog challenge with me. I will be powering through a lot this week as next week I have an overtime work project that will dominate any down time I would have. But please know how much I appreciate you all. Feel free to post comments and suggestions about what I should write!
One of my biggest pet peeves is when people trim their nails not over a receptacle. I bring this one up because I have seen two people in my office do this. In shared spaces, if you must trim your nails, do it over a trash can, not over the floor. EW!
I also cannot stand the word HEIGHTH! That is not an actual word! It is not like WIDTH. It is HEIGHT! Generally, grammar things are my biggest pet peeves. Such as, no you may not ax me a question but you are welcome to ask me. And throw shade? Whomever coined "Throw shade at," needs to go back to school. Permanently. Oh and it is not "expresso" no matter how fast it hits you.
Oh and lastly, to quote Ross from Friends: "Y-o-u-'-r-e means YOU ARE, y-o-u-r means YOUR!"
As someone who studied grammar, I will always look up something to check instead of misusing or misspelling. My goodness being able to speak correctly is important!
Yesterday I got to write about one of my all time favorite things, music, and it was one of my highest-viewed posts. I just wanted to thank you all for going on this blog challenge with me. I will be powering through a lot this week as next week I have an overtime work project that will dominate any down time I would have. But please know how much I appreciate you all. Feel free to post comments and suggestions about what I should write!
Tuesday, September 4, 2018
Daily Blog Challenge 22: Ten Favorite Songs
Only 10? Only Ten FAVORITE SONGS! My goodness, these will have to be in order from least favorite to most favorite. Here we go:
10. Joni Mitchell - The Circle Game. Google immediately if you have not listened to this gem! When I turned 30, I demanded my dad help me indulge my Joni Mitchell love affair with her album, on vinyl, Ladies of the Canyon. Not only is this one of the best songs of motherhood ever written but my goodness it is simply gorgeous musically as well. My favorite lines are probably the chorus which include: "And the seasons, they go round and round and the painted ponies go up and down. We're captive on a carousel of time. We can't return, we can only look behind from where we came and go round and round and round in the circle game!"
9. Simon and Garfunkel - El Condor Pasa (If I Could). I found this one on a soundtrack and I feel so in love. I have felt that Paul Simon and/or Simon and Garfunkel are poets and seriously very underrated but this song just got me. I can actually play this loud and proud and rock out. Favorite lines include: "I'd rather be a forest than a street. Yes I would, if I could, I surely would. I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet. Yes I could, if I could, I surely would.
8. Death Cab for Cutie - Lightness. I could listen to this for days at a time. This is a seriously underrated, gorgeous, tragic and poetic piece. I have listened to this loud singing, "Oh, instincts are misleading, you shouldn't think what you're feeling. They don't tell you what you know you should want..." It never gets old or any less true.
7. Rilo Kiley - A Better Son/Daughter. This song I have belted more times than I can count and I cannot stop thinking Jenny Lewis wrote this about me: It goes like this: "Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move, awake but cannot open my eyes. And the weight is crushing down on my lungs I know I can't breathe and hope someone will save me this time. And your mother's still calling you insane and high, swearing it's different this time. So you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her that God never blessed her inside. Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for for upsetting things, crawl back into bed to dream of a time when your heart was open wide and you loved things just because, like the sick and the dying. And sometimes when you're on you're really fucking on and your friends they sing along and they love you. But the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap, and it teases you for weeks and attacks it. But you'll fight it and you'll make it through, you'll fake it if you have to and you'll show up to work with a smile! You'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up and a better daughter or son and a real good friend. You'll be awake, you'll be alert you'll be positive though it hurts, and you'll laugh and embrace all your friends. You'll be a real good listener, you'll be honest you'll be brave, you'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful. YOU'LL BE HAPPY!"
6. The Decemberists - Engine Driver. The Decemberists have mastered music that comes with epic tales of love and loss. They very much tackle certain eras of tales and recreate a musical narrative. They are not to be missed. This song just has such an amazing melody and story that I connected with, quickly. "I am a writer, writer of fictions, I am the heart that you call home. And I've written pages upon pages trying to rid you from my bones."
5. Hanson - Strong Enough to Break. This was my car accident anthem and inspired one of my tattoos. The lyrics that got me most were: "Things keep coming and I keep wondering, I start feeling the walls close in. Things keep coming and I keep stumbling, I start feeling strong enough to break." Hanson is actually a great band past MMMBop and before you judge, listen to a recent album and message me. Let's chat!
4. The Shins - Simple Song. Have you ever liked a song and never really listened to it? Then one day you listen and you're like WHOA, they totally nailed it!? That's this song. Specifically when he sings "I know that things can really get rough, when you go it alone. Don't thinking you gotta be tough and play like a stone. Could be there's nothing else in our lives so critical as this little home!" And then also, "Love's such a delicate thing that we do, with nothing to prove, which I never knew!"
3. Dire Straits - Romeo and Juliet. Does this even require a description? I think it does not. This is an epic tale and musically, Mark Knopfler is a god among men. Listen to it. Over and over. And it'll change your life!
2. The Beatles - A Day In The Life. I love ALL BEATLES. They will never get old. This one is both gut-wrenching and gorgeous all at the same time. I've listened to this in times of joy and sadness and it speaks to both, consistently. Over and over.
1. Death Cab for Cutie - Title and Registration. The lyrics of this ENTIRE song are beyond perfection. I have seen this live nearly 10 times and each time it gets better. I could never get sick of this one. It never gets...untrue!
So here we are fans! Enjoy and thank you for reading and following with me! Hope you discover some awesome new music today!
10. Joni Mitchell - The Circle Game. Google immediately if you have not listened to this gem! When I turned 30, I demanded my dad help me indulge my Joni Mitchell love affair with her album, on vinyl, Ladies of the Canyon. Not only is this one of the best songs of motherhood ever written but my goodness it is simply gorgeous musically as well. My favorite lines are probably the chorus which include: "And the seasons, they go round and round and the painted ponies go up and down. We're captive on a carousel of time. We can't return, we can only look behind from where we came and go round and round and round in the circle game!"
9. Simon and Garfunkel - El Condor Pasa (If I Could). I found this one on a soundtrack and I feel so in love. I have felt that Paul Simon and/or Simon and Garfunkel are poets and seriously very underrated but this song just got me. I can actually play this loud and proud and rock out. Favorite lines include: "I'd rather be a forest than a street. Yes I would, if I could, I surely would. I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet. Yes I could, if I could, I surely would.
8. Death Cab for Cutie - Lightness. I could listen to this for days at a time. This is a seriously underrated, gorgeous, tragic and poetic piece. I have listened to this loud singing, "Oh, instincts are misleading, you shouldn't think what you're feeling. They don't tell you what you know you should want..." It never gets old or any less true.
7. Rilo Kiley - A Better Son/Daughter. This song I have belted more times than I can count and I cannot stop thinking Jenny Lewis wrote this about me: It goes like this: "Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move, awake but cannot open my eyes. And the weight is crushing down on my lungs I know I can't breathe and hope someone will save me this time. And your mother's still calling you insane and high, swearing it's different this time. So you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her that God never blessed her inside. Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for for upsetting things, crawl back into bed to dream of a time when your heart was open wide and you loved things just because, like the sick and the dying. And sometimes when you're on you're really fucking on and your friends they sing along and they love you. But the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap, and it teases you for weeks and attacks it. But you'll fight it and you'll make it through, you'll fake it if you have to and you'll show up to work with a smile! You'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up and a better daughter or son and a real good friend. You'll be awake, you'll be alert you'll be positive though it hurts, and you'll laugh and embrace all your friends. You'll be a real good listener, you'll be honest you'll be brave, you'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful. YOU'LL BE HAPPY!"
6. The Decemberists - Engine Driver. The Decemberists have mastered music that comes with epic tales of love and loss. They very much tackle certain eras of tales and recreate a musical narrative. They are not to be missed. This song just has such an amazing melody and story that I connected with, quickly. "I am a writer, writer of fictions, I am the heart that you call home. And I've written pages upon pages trying to rid you from my bones."
5. Hanson - Strong Enough to Break. This was my car accident anthem and inspired one of my tattoos. The lyrics that got me most were: "Things keep coming and I keep wondering, I start feeling the walls close in. Things keep coming and I keep stumbling, I start feeling strong enough to break." Hanson is actually a great band past MMMBop and before you judge, listen to a recent album and message me. Let's chat!
4. The Shins - Simple Song. Have you ever liked a song and never really listened to it? Then one day you listen and you're like WHOA, they totally nailed it!? That's this song. Specifically when he sings "I know that things can really get rough, when you go it alone. Don't thinking you gotta be tough and play like a stone. Could be there's nothing else in our lives so critical as this little home!" And then also, "Love's such a delicate thing that we do, with nothing to prove, which I never knew!"
3. Dire Straits - Romeo and Juliet. Does this even require a description? I think it does not. This is an epic tale and musically, Mark Knopfler is a god among men. Listen to it. Over and over. And it'll change your life!
2. The Beatles - A Day In The Life. I love ALL BEATLES. They will never get old. This one is both gut-wrenching and gorgeous all at the same time. I've listened to this in times of joy and sadness and it speaks to both, consistently. Over and over.
So here we are fans! Enjoy and thank you for reading and following with me! Hope you discover some awesome new music today!
Daily Challenge 21: Something I Miss
Something I miss very much lately is the house I grew up in. Lately in my lottery-like fantasies I have hoped to buy my old childhood home and move back near my bestie to raise my little one in the best place ever. Nothing about my childhood home let me down before all the me being 12 years old engulfed in family drama.
You could smell my dad's cooking on Thanksgiving upstairs and when he made pies or baked anything it made the house warm and welcoming. It was cool in the summer and warm in the winter. It was an old house with creaks that made me feel safe, not scared. It was clean and homey and filled with good things and comfort. It had a huge back yard with a hand-built-by-dad swing set and play house. My golden retriever ruled the yard. The garage smelled like lawnmower and old tools.
Sometimes I think I miss what the house represented, which was simple family of us three, and I worry that my daughter is missing out on that. Sometimes I think that I just miss it because I'm going through some mid-life crisis type thing. I guess we'll see.
I miss holidays with cousins and presents and the Christmas tree lighting the front window. I miss the brick sidewalk and the square less than a block down. I miss riding bikes with neighborhood kids and never being bored. I miss walks to the river and bouncing between houses with friends. I miss watching TV with my dad and listening to music in my room. Maybe I just really miss childhood. Regardless, challenge accepted and these are the things I currently miss. Way to bring on the nostalgia!
You could smell my dad's cooking on Thanksgiving upstairs and when he made pies or baked anything it made the house warm and welcoming. It was cool in the summer and warm in the winter. It was an old house with creaks that made me feel safe, not scared. It was clean and homey and filled with good things and comfort. It had a huge back yard with a hand-built-by-dad swing set and play house. My golden retriever ruled the yard. The garage smelled like lawnmower and old tools.
Sometimes I think I miss what the house represented, which was simple family of us three, and I worry that my daughter is missing out on that. Sometimes I think that I just miss it because I'm going through some mid-life crisis type thing. I guess we'll see.
I miss holidays with cousins and presents and the Christmas tree lighting the front window. I miss the brick sidewalk and the square less than a block down. I miss riding bikes with neighborhood kids and never being bored. I miss walks to the river and bouncing between houses with friends. I miss watching TV with my dad and listening to music in my room. Maybe I just really miss childhood. Regardless, challenge accepted and these are the things I currently miss. Way to bring on the nostalgia!
Blog Challenge 20: Where I Want to Be In 10 Years
Where do I want to be in 10 years? Is there a good answer for that question? Retired?
My goal is way less debt, way more fun memories, and being secure in my job. Totally lame right?
I used to have some pretty serious goals in my life. And when you get into the harsh light of reality you often have to curb those and settle into being able to pay bills on time and not constantly asking for money from your parents.
I wanted to be writing for a magazine, I wanted to be successful with a house and kiddos and dogs. Some of those things have become realities and some I've had to take what I can get. Fitness goals are met for me often, running races and such. Financial goals plague me, personal goals make me very depressed and life goals often achieve the same for me.
Then I think of the cliche response, "I just want to be happy!" Actually, I just want a sense of calm with no fallout. I want some stability and security. Those are big deals for me and if I could meet that life goal, talk about a payoff!
In 10 years I want my daughter to be kicking ass at high school and growing into a better person than I could ever be. I want my job to pay me well and give me lots of paid vacation time so I can better enjoy life. I want my husband to have job security and happiness. I want to not lose sleep over dirty grout, ruined tile and baseboards.
For me, so long as I have a happy, healthy kiddo, wherever she is is exactly where I want to be. The other things are nice goals to have but so long as I have my kid by my side I'm good! I'll let you know how it turns out!
My goal is way less debt, way more fun memories, and being secure in my job. Totally lame right?
I used to have some pretty serious goals in my life. And when you get into the harsh light of reality you often have to curb those and settle into being able to pay bills on time and not constantly asking for money from your parents.
I wanted to be writing for a magazine, I wanted to be successful with a house and kiddos and dogs. Some of those things have become realities and some I've had to take what I can get. Fitness goals are met for me often, running races and such. Financial goals plague me, personal goals make me very depressed and life goals often achieve the same for me.
Then I think of the cliche response, "I just want to be happy!" Actually, I just want a sense of calm with no fallout. I want some stability and security. Those are big deals for me and if I could meet that life goal, talk about a payoff!
In 10 years I want my daughter to be kicking ass at high school and growing into a better person than I could ever be. I want my job to pay me well and give me lots of paid vacation time so I can better enjoy life. I want my husband to have job security and happiness. I want to not lose sleep over dirty grout, ruined tile and baseboards.
For me, so long as I have a happy, healthy kiddo, wherever she is is exactly where I want to be. The other things are nice goals to have but so long as I have my kid by my side I'm good! I'll let you know how it turns out!
Friday, August 31, 2018
Daily Challenge 19: My Worst Habits
If we are going to lay out worst habits...mine would be biting fingernails. It goes hand in hand with my anxiety.
I've been a nail chewer since I was little. I can still hear hear the scolding. When I get my nails done or paint them I am usually okay, but mostly if I am stressed or anxious that is when I chew away.
Other worst habits? I'm super self critical. In so many ways I think we can all say this about ourselves but I can get very mean to myself. Maybe that's a womanly trait, which is sad, but I think we often beat ourselves up far more than we deserve.
Talking about worst habits for a blog challenge is kind of a self-critical practice when we live in a society that preaches an awful lot about self care. Maybe some of our worst habits are pertaining to self care? Like if you like to unwind by doing a facial and plucking eyebrows and doing some personal maintenance to boost your confidence, maybe some see that as worst habit and plain old narcissism. What a thought that our worst habits could be tools in our preservation in one way or another!
So if your worst habit is working out too much? Like, what is that? I recently heard a comedian talk about how women want to be so skinny that people are concerned for their health. But then again some guys say they like thicker women. Where is the balance? Maybe a worst habit is being obsessed with balance! This is a dangerous blog challenge, so I digress.
Let's get back to the main subject of worst habits. I think all of these worst things are just subject to personal judgment. I would say my husband's worst habit is leaving his clothes all over the house, he might say something completely different about his own AND about mine. Regardless, I feel it best not to dwell.
How about no more "my worst," and we re-frame this as "a habit I'd like to work on." Because isn't it all about attitude in the end? Let's work on all of it!
I've been a nail chewer since I was little. I can still hear hear the scolding. When I get my nails done or paint them I am usually okay, but mostly if I am stressed or anxious that is when I chew away.
Other worst habits? I'm super self critical. In so many ways I think we can all say this about ourselves but I can get very mean to myself. Maybe that's a womanly trait, which is sad, but I think we often beat ourselves up far more than we deserve.
Talking about worst habits for a blog challenge is kind of a self-critical practice when we live in a society that preaches an awful lot about self care. Maybe some of our worst habits are pertaining to self care? Like if you like to unwind by doing a facial and plucking eyebrows and doing some personal maintenance to boost your confidence, maybe some see that as worst habit and plain old narcissism. What a thought that our worst habits could be tools in our preservation in one way or another!
So if your worst habit is working out too much? Like, what is that? I recently heard a comedian talk about how women want to be so skinny that people are concerned for their health. But then again some guys say they like thicker women. Where is the balance? Maybe a worst habit is being obsessed with balance! This is a dangerous blog challenge, so I digress.
Let's get back to the main subject of worst habits. I think all of these worst things are just subject to personal judgment. I would say my husband's worst habit is leaving his clothes all over the house, he might say something completely different about his own AND about mine. Regardless, I feel it best not to dwell.
How about no more "my worst," and we re-frame this as "a habit I'd like to work on." Because isn't it all about attitude in the end? Let's work on all of it!
Daily Blog Challenge 18: What Am I Afraid Of?
Are we talking big picture, deep stuff like "failure" or actual fears like heights or spiders? Maybe we should cover it all.
When you're younger you might be afraid of the dark, new places or trying certain new things. As you get older you become more aware and you fear getting lost or go through the whole "death fixation."
My actual fear? S-N-A-K-E-S. I mean like screaming, shaking, anxiety, knees buckling fear of those creatures. They need to stay far away and if you ever "joke" about my fear or try and scare me with one, I will show you why you should have been more constructive during your time in your death fixation phase.
Spiders don't bother me, bugs in general I can deal with, lizards don't bother me. Snakes scare the beejesus out of me. They need to respect my space and I will respect theirs.
Other fears? The real deal ones including being a bad mother, not being able to pay bills, and letting the decisions of others define or dictate my life. But those are normal, right?
As someone who has been watching way too much Dexter lately I can tell you that fear is quite the motivator. And we all have such different fears. I never really feel afraid of heights until I'm up higher and then I'm like "uh oh!"
Sharing fears is tough too, especially in a relationship. It makes us so vulnerable and sometimes creates more fear in and of itself. However, it can also bring you closer together when used properly, in many ways.
Some people say you have to conquer your fears and I should just like, get a snake or something but I disagree. I feel like some fears are just meant to stay scary and some you grow out of, like being afraid of the dark. And let's not forget that some childhood fears like abandonment, getting actually lost, or not being good enough just grow with you.
Those are the fears that keep therapy and billion dollar business, but that's another diatribe. Those fears don't have to define us though and can also give us strength in tackling them and overcoming some aspects as we become who we are meant to be. And often, as fearful as that journey is, it's worth the fear and vulnerability to become more of ourselves through it all. I'm still not touching a snake or being near one, though. Nope.
When you're younger you might be afraid of the dark, new places or trying certain new things. As you get older you become more aware and you fear getting lost or go through the whole "death fixation."
My actual fear? S-N-A-K-E-S. I mean like screaming, shaking, anxiety, knees buckling fear of those creatures. They need to stay far away and if you ever "joke" about my fear or try and scare me with one, I will show you why you should have been more constructive during your time in your death fixation phase.
Spiders don't bother me, bugs in general I can deal with, lizards don't bother me. Snakes scare the beejesus out of me. They need to respect my space and I will respect theirs.
Other fears? The real deal ones including being a bad mother, not being able to pay bills, and letting the decisions of others define or dictate my life. But those are normal, right?
As someone who has been watching way too much Dexter lately I can tell you that fear is quite the motivator. And we all have such different fears. I never really feel afraid of heights until I'm up higher and then I'm like "uh oh!"
Sharing fears is tough too, especially in a relationship. It makes us so vulnerable and sometimes creates more fear in and of itself. However, it can also bring you closer together when used properly, in many ways.
Some people say you have to conquer your fears and I should just like, get a snake or something but I disagree. I feel like some fears are just meant to stay scary and some you grow out of, like being afraid of the dark. And let's not forget that some childhood fears like abandonment, getting actually lost, or not being good enough just grow with you.
Those are the fears that keep therapy and billion dollar business, but that's another diatribe. Those fears don't have to define us though and can also give us strength in tackling them and overcoming some aspects as we become who we are meant to be. And often, as fearful as that journey is, it's worth the fear and vulnerability to become more of ourselves through it all. I'm still not touching a snake or being near one, though. Nope.
Daily Challenge 17: My Favorite Childhood Book
Anyone who says they are not a fan of Dr. Seuss is lying, but my favorite childhood book is not that of a Seuss creation, although I love The Lorax very much. My favorite childhood book is none other than "Where The Wild Things Are." Not only is the art amazing but I love the story.
The story is of a little boy being punished and sent to his room and then escaping to a world of his own where he finds worse things to deal with then his present circumstance I think is quite a tale. Imagination is underrated anymore and I always loved Max's ability to create and entire realm and walk you through it. I also love any story where so-called monsters are actually gentle creatures who just want some company.
I think my favorite line is "Let the wild rumpus START!" But I also love when he commands the wild things to, "Be still!" I read this book to my little one in a very animated way and often say "I'll eat you up I love you so!" My mom also had a coffee table book of Maurice Sendak art that I used to thumb through.
In other childhood literature I will tell you an amusing story. I always loved any of the works by Shel Silverstein. As part of my fear of snakes my dad used to read me Silverstein's "Boa Constrictor" to make me even more afraid it seemed. I loved Where The Sidewalk Ends as well. My dad used to preach a sermon from "The Giving Tree" and that book was always around. I loved it so much when I was little.
When I was 18 and a full time nanny I remember getting a copy of it for the little girl I watched and I read it out loud to her and had this cloud of realization come over me..."This book is terrible! That boy abused the tree and just used him! Humans are garbage!"
I remember calling my dad, half in tears saying "Why did you read us that? That is a horrible story about how people just use things and are selfish!" He told me that it was a good lesson in humans versus nature. He reasoned that we need to be nicer to nature but also remember there is good in the world with human nature too. He had a point.
I still read it from time to time but still think it is mostly depressing. Most kids books are slightly sad or "off" if you think about it, but that one about killed my spirit in adulthood. It's funny how when we read these stories to our children, they now mean something completely different but these were the literary building blocks of our beginnings. I think I'll go to "Where The Wild Things Are" and report back.
The story is of a little boy being punished and sent to his room and then escaping to a world of his own where he finds worse things to deal with then his present circumstance I think is quite a tale. Imagination is underrated anymore and I always loved Max's ability to create and entire realm and walk you through it. I also love any story where so-called monsters are actually gentle creatures who just want some company.
I think my favorite line is "Let the wild rumpus START!" But I also love when he commands the wild things to, "Be still!" I read this book to my little one in a very animated way and often say "I'll eat you up I love you so!" My mom also had a coffee table book of Maurice Sendak art that I used to thumb through.
In other childhood literature I will tell you an amusing story. I always loved any of the works by Shel Silverstein. As part of my fear of snakes my dad used to read me Silverstein's "Boa Constrictor" to make me even more afraid it seemed. I loved Where The Sidewalk Ends as well. My dad used to preach a sermon from "The Giving Tree" and that book was always around. I loved it so much when I was little.
When I was 18 and a full time nanny I remember getting a copy of it for the little girl I watched and I read it out loud to her and had this cloud of realization come over me..."This book is terrible! That boy abused the tree and just used him! Humans are garbage!"
I remember calling my dad, half in tears saying "Why did you read us that? That is a horrible story about how people just use things and are selfish!" He told me that it was a good lesson in humans versus nature. He reasoned that we need to be nicer to nature but also remember there is good in the world with human nature too. He had a point.
I still read it from time to time but still think it is mostly depressing. Most kids books are slightly sad or "off" if you think about it, but that one about killed my spirit in adulthood. It's funny how when we read these stories to our children, they now mean something completely different but these were the literary building blocks of our beginnings. I think I'll go to "Where The Wild Things Are" and report back.
Thursday, August 30, 2018
Blog Challenge 16: My Dream Job
The perfect illustration for my dream job would be that of Patrick Fugit's character in "Almost Famous." He got to tour with Stillwater and tell their tales in Rolling Stone. I also completely believe that I was born in the wrong era because I wanted to be on tour with the bands of the 70's and writing for Rolling Stone.
My dream job is that of a music writer. My attachment to music has been rooted as long as I can remember, and I just wanted to write and write and write about, that song, that scene it creates, "this is what I hear, is that what it meant?"
Some songs and bands just seemingly "get you." And I always wanted to literately break down why I was obsessed with that band or song or album or why that one didn't connect with me.
When we first moved I wanted to do an internship with Paste Magazine. They were Atlanta-based and theirs and PitchFork's were still good, non-biased articles on new, indie and obscure musicians. Rolling Stone will always be Rolling Stone but you have to be super famous to even write a line in there. They would never just take some random piece.
Then I had this amazing idea for a Food and Music Magazine where you could have recipes and dining set ideas along with music suggestions like, "This steak and wine is perfect for a Pink Floyd album revisit, particularly..." I just thought it would be cool to get two specific audiences and merge them because both food and music are such universal, wonderful interests that often unearth common ground.
I spent time writing for Creative Loafing in Tampa/Ybor City and doing concert reviews with them. That was fun! Free concerts and I got to review how they were and make people feel like they missed out on an experience. I've done art reviews and interviews as well and I love interacting with people and sharing a story.
To me, music already tells a story, but how we hear or perceive the story is our own journey. And I love that I might think something is so awesome while someone else could present that they felt it was so disappointing within the music, or just in life I guess too.
I think I always wanted to interview the artists I admire and just ask what they were actually thinking when they wrote or played that piece because music's meaning can transcend over time. When I was 16 and was depressed a song could mean one thing. When I'm 30 and grown up it may mean something completely different but still resonate.
I also love hearing what each person's unique opinion is about other pieces of music. Some people detest certain genres, some people like the actual instrumental music and don't care about lyrics, and some people only care about lyrics and could care less about it being catchy. The diversity of music is just so fascinating to me.
If Rolling Stone or Spin is hiring I would gladly make time for an interview but with print going out of style and with the music industry becoming less and less unique and seemingly more commercial, I know that it's just one of those dreams that will stay an awesome dream. When I was young and naive I really wanted to move to New York or San Francisco and make being a real, live writer happen but with age comes responsibility and we don't always get to dream when we live in the reality.
And now for the cliche ending I will say that I will continue to "Dream On," which is a shameless nod to the classic hit by Aerosmith. Yeah that just happened. Mic drop.
My dream job is that of a music writer. My attachment to music has been rooted as long as I can remember, and I just wanted to write and write and write about, that song, that scene it creates, "this is what I hear, is that what it meant?"
Some songs and bands just seemingly "get you." And I always wanted to literately break down why I was obsessed with that band or song or album or why that one didn't connect with me.
When we first moved I wanted to do an internship with Paste Magazine. They were Atlanta-based and theirs and PitchFork's were still good, non-biased articles on new, indie and obscure musicians. Rolling Stone will always be Rolling Stone but you have to be super famous to even write a line in there. They would never just take some random piece.
Then I had this amazing idea for a Food and Music Magazine where you could have recipes and dining set ideas along with music suggestions like, "This steak and wine is perfect for a Pink Floyd album revisit, particularly..." I just thought it would be cool to get two specific audiences and merge them because both food and music are such universal, wonderful interests that often unearth common ground.
I spent time writing for Creative Loafing in Tampa/Ybor City and doing concert reviews with them. That was fun! Free concerts and I got to review how they were and make people feel like they missed out on an experience. I've done art reviews and interviews as well and I love interacting with people and sharing a story.
To me, music already tells a story, but how we hear or perceive the story is our own journey. And I love that I might think something is so awesome while someone else could present that they felt it was so disappointing within the music, or just in life I guess too.
I think I always wanted to interview the artists I admire and just ask what they were actually thinking when they wrote or played that piece because music's meaning can transcend over time. When I was 16 and was depressed a song could mean one thing. When I'm 30 and grown up it may mean something completely different but still resonate.
I also love hearing what each person's unique opinion is about other pieces of music. Some people detest certain genres, some people like the actual instrumental music and don't care about lyrics, and some people only care about lyrics and could care less about it being catchy. The diversity of music is just so fascinating to me.
If Rolling Stone or Spin is hiring I would gladly make time for an interview but with print going out of style and with the music industry becoming less and less unique and seemingly more commercial, I know that it's just one of those dreams that will stay an awesome dream. When I was young and naive I really wanted to move to New York or San Francisco and make being a real, live writer happen but with age comes responsibility and we don't always get to dream when we live in the reality.
And now for the cliche ending I will say that I will continue to "Dream On," which is a shameless nod to the classic hit by Aerosmith. Yeah that just happened. Mic drop.
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
Challenge 15: Timeline of My Day
Some of these challenges are a bit short and slightly silly feeling to me. But they are all good exercises and I'm embracing the challenge. Although it feels self-indulgent, here is the timeline of my day.
Monday through Friday my alarm rings at 4:45AM for a 5 or 5:15AM workout. Then I get back home by 6:20AM to pack my lunch, grab a bowl of cereal and make my coffee. This is followed by the shower, laying out clothes for the kiddo, and getting ready for work.
I have to be in the car by about 7:15AM to get to work by 8. Usually I help the little one get dressed and she says goodbye to me and blows me kisses from the front stoop. Between 7:50AM and 8AM I get into my office. From 8AM to 9:30AM I have to edit and compile reports and charts for my job. At 9:20AM the same customer calls me to read him a copy of the newsletter I just published that morning.
From then on I count down to my 12:00PM hour-long lunch and usually have a 10AM snack. On my lunch I walk around or make phone calls to catch up with people because by the end of the day I just zone out.
My afternoon often drags from 1PM to 5PM with end of the day numbers submitted just after 4PM. I take phone calls and do social media updates for work. I catch up on news and a few things here and there. I walk out of the door at 5PM, and unless there is crazy traffic, I can usually make it back to my neighborhood by about 5:45PM.
Three days a week I hit the gym in the evenings too, for Spin class or a run. Then I get home to tidy up and get the kiddo ready for bed time. We read between 2 and 4 books and have about 10 minutes of end of day recap and cuddles before I head out to make myself dinner and do whatever chores are required to make the rest of the week easier. So I eat around 8PM and usually am in bed between 9:30PM and 10PM to get some sleep and do it all over.
Weekends I try to "sleep in" between 7 and 8AM. Sometimes I hit a 9:30AM Saturday morning spin class and Sundays usually involve Church. I thrive on routine and when things get thrown off it is definitely not an easy transition for me. So much of my anxiety contributes to that. Although I think most people can function better when they have a normal schedule.
With my daughter's schedule we have yet to throw in any sports or crazy after school activities outside of basic after care. She thrives with other people and routines of her own but she comes home tired and so do I.
My husband works nights so we rarely cross paths and he is the guy who gets the little one to where she needs to be in the mornings. I'm the bed time guru. Each day follows roughly the same timeline with some fun and alterations here and there. It's tough to motivate from time to time but once you just get up and do it, it's not so bad.
Now feel free to judge, eye roll or think that I am crazy with this schedule but this is years of working and figuring out how to keep everyone sane. This schedule is the closest we have all been to that sanity!
Monday through Friday my alarm rings at 4:45AM for a 5 or 5:15AM workout. Then I get back home by 6:20AM to pack my lunch, grab a bowl of cereal and make my coffee. This is followed by the shower, laying out clothes for the kiddo, and getting ready for work.
I have to be in the car by about 7:15AM to get to work by 8. Usually I help the little one get dressed and she says goodbye to me and blows me kisses from the front stoop. Between 7:50AM and 8AM I get into my office. From 8AM to 9:30AM I have to edit and compile reports and charts for my job. At 9:20AM the same customer calls me to read him a copy of the newsletter I just published that morning.
From then on I count down to my 12:00PM hour-long lunch and usually have a 10AM snack. On my lunch I walk around or make phone calls to catch up with people because by the end of the day I just zone out.
My afternoon often drags from 1PM to 5PM with end of the day numbers submitted just after 4PM. I take phone calls and do social media updates for work. I catch up on news and a few things here and there. I walk out of the door at 5PM, and unless there is crazy traffic, I can usually make it back to my neighborhood by about 5:45PM.
Three days a week I hit the gym in the evenings too, for Spin class or a run. Then I get home to tidy up and get the kiddo ready for bed time. We read between 2 and 4 books and have about 10 minutes of end of day recap and cuddles before I head out to make myself dinner and do whatever chores are required to make the rest of the week easier. So I eat around 8PM and usually am in bed between 9:30PM and 10PM to get some sleep and do it all over.
Weekends I try to "sleep in" between 7 and 8AM. Sometimes I hit a 9:30AM Saturday morning spin class and Sundays usually involve Church. I thrive on routine and when things get thrown off it is definitely not an easy transition for me. So much of my anxiety contributes to that. Although I think most people can function better when they have a normal schedule.
With my daughter's schedule we have yet to throw in any sports or crazy after school activities outside of basic after care. She thrives with other people and routines of her own but she comes home tired and so do I.
My husband works nights so we rarely cross paths and he is the guy who gets the little one to where she needs to be in the mornings. I'm the bed time guru. Each day follows roughly the same timeline with some fun and alterations here and there. It's tough to motivate from time to time but once you just get up and do it, it's not so bad.
Now feel free to judge, eye roll or think that I am crazy with this schedule but this is years of working and figuring out how to keep everyone sane. This schedule is the closest we have all been to that sanity!
Challenge 14: What's In My Handbag? Okay, No One Calls It That Anymore.
What is in my handbag? Do women still have a handbag? I thought we call them purses, bags, or a satchel even? Wristlet or clutch maybe. I haven't heard handbag lately. Currently I am sporting a Betsey Johnson small backpack much like Cher and Dion in Clueless or Elaine Benes of Seinfeld. I thought I was being cutting edge but seemingly all the cool kids are in on it now.
My purse is always a mess. Complete with receipts, the general "woman supplies," hair ties, bobby pins, hair clips, lip gloss, chapstick, a pocket mirror, pens, a few business cards, the wallet, stray jewelry and change. Also any papers I'm "supposed" to review for later and various unopened pay stubs.
I don't miss the diaper bag days. I also find it sad that as we move into motherhood we are seemingly downgraded a purse, which we grow up to feel is as tantamount to being a woman as tampons, and handed a bag filled with everything your baby needs to the point of no room for anything we might need in there...besides a wallet with cards to pay for more baby stuff. My husband went to the lengths of finding me a purse by my favorite designer that could actually be used as a diaper bag and was even styled as such. It was still one of my least favorite mom moments though, because the cute diaper bags are rarely useful.
Purses are fun and also a curse in a way. We feel naked without them like we are forgetting something. And we always have to find "The right one." Not to mention the trendy ones are always expensive. I had a friend who lived and died for Coach purses. Another dreams of Fossil. My mom went through a Tommy Hilfiger phase. Now I'm sure it's all Michael Kors and Kate Spade. I will always be a Betsey Johnson gal, myself. Some are desperate for the Louis Vuitton.
The handbag question is personal and kind of ridiculous in actuality. Most of us carry the same staples but our bags hold all of our personal and private things. Sure, men have a wallet but how much can you really fit in there? Unless of course you're George Costanza. Purses are definitely and blessing and a curse for womanhood. Regardless, our handbag is our handle, if you will. We love to accessorize and match for special occasions and every day needs. They are just another way to let us express ourselves.
So whatever is in your handbag, and the mundane things that are in mine, those are unique and personal, much like the bag we choose to throw it all in!
My purse is always a mess. Complete with receipts, the general "woman supplies," hair ties, bobby pins, hair clips, lip gloss, chapstick, a pocket mirror, pens, a few business cards, the wallet, stray jewelry and change. Also any papers I'm "supposed" to review for later and various unopened pay stubs.
I don't miss the diaper bag days. I also find it sad that as we move into motherhood we are seemingly downgraded a purse, which we grow up to feel is as tantamount to being a woman as tampons, and handed a bag filled with everything your baby needs to the point of no room for anything we might need in there...besides a wallet with cards to pay for more baby stuff. My husband went to the lengths of finding me a purse by my favorite designer that could actually be used as a diaper bag and was even styled as such. It was still one of my least favorite mom moments though, because the cute diaper bags are rarely useful.
Purses are fun and also a curse in a way. We feel naked without them like we are forgetting something. And we always have to find "The right one." Not to mention the trendy ones are always expensive. I had a friend who lived and died for Coach purses. Another dreams of Fossil. My mom went through a Tommy Hilfiger phase. Now I'm sure it's all Michael Kors and Kate Spade. I will always be a Betsey Johnson gal, myself. Some are desperate for the Louis Vuitton.
The handbag question is personal and kind of ridiculous in actuality. Most of us carry the same staples but our bags hold all of our personal and private things. Sure, men have a wallet but how much can you really fit in there? Unless of course you're George Costanza. Purses are definitely and blessing and a curse for womanhood. Regardless, our handbag is our handle, if you will. We love to accessorize and match for special occasions and every day needs. They are just another way to let us express ourselves.
So whatever is in your handbag, and the mundane things that are in mine, those are unique and personal, much like the bag we choose to throw it all in!
Tuesday, August 28, 2018
Lucky 13 Challenge: My Favorite Quote
This is a loaded question readers. I have been obsessed with quotes for a good 23 years I would say. And what kind of quote does this challenge require? A song quote? A movie quote? A book quote? A celebrity quote? The options are endless and I'm overwhelmed with ideas. So, let's just take it way way back to maybe my first quote journal and I'll think about what I was obsessed with, and which one could be construed as a a favorite.
Okay my first serious obsession would have to go to Almost Famous and I think I still have it memorized. "I always tell the girls, never take it seriously. If you never take it seriously you never get hurt. If you never get hurt, you always have fun and if you ever get lonely, you just go to the record store and visit your friends." I love everything about this movie, this scene and the words.
Other than that I instantly loved Ferris Bueller saying, "Life moves pretty fast, you don't stop and look around once in awhile you could miss it." And there are many John Hughes quotes I still love forever. I could also quote many epic statements from Kevin Smith movies and most likely all of Princess Bride.
Song quotes and verses rule my world too though. My favorite song quote will forever be from The Shins "New Slang," where he sings, "I'm looking in on the good life I might be doomed never to find." Natalie Portman was so right in Garden State when she said that Shins song would "change your life." See? I collect quotes.
I used to etch them in notebook after notebook. Now I keep them on Pinterest and hoard them. To me, quotes can comfort and often put to words what you are feeling in your darkest or most hopeless moments. Many people find Bible verses provide this comfort but I look to other writings.
I've always loved movies and series and I must have thousands of collected quotes from my favorite scenes or moments. And once you collect the quote it takes you back to the exact scene. Some scenes of movies and series are synonymous with the quotes and are embedded within us, some we revisit when we are closer to those iconic moments mirroring our present circumstance.
I think Sarah Silverman recently posted on her Instagram a clip of her watching the absolutely epic scene in Sex and The City where Carrie says to Big "We're so over we need a new word for over." You can hear Sarah Silverman say "Fuck yeah," in reaction. I think all women have felt that moment.
I used to speak mostly in movie quotes and am fluent in Friends show quotes. Also those of The Office. I think these can often help bridge the gap in social situations or help establish common ground but for me quotes are my comfort zone. On a down day, I just quote collect and feel better or revisit that moment from a show and say, "I've totally been there!"
I could list and list and list them but I'd rather open forum this. We currently live in a world where quotes now come in the form of memes and still/screen shots. Feel free to post them in the comments. I want to know what quotes have made your day or made you relate. I want to hear from you!
Okay my first serious obsession would have to go to Almost Famous and I think I still have it memorized. "I always tell the girls, never take it seriously. If you never take it seriously you never get hurt. If you never get hurt, you always have fun and if you ever get lonely, you just go to the record store and visit your friends." I love everything about this movie, this scene and the words.
Other than that I instantly loved Ferris Bueller saying, "Life moves pretty fast, you don't stop and look around once in awhile you could miss it." And there are many John Hughes quotes I still love forever. I could also quote many epic statements from Kevin Smith movies and most likely all of Princess Bride.
Song quotes and verses rule my world too though. My favorite song quote will forever be from The Shins "New Slang," where he sings, "I'm looking in on the good life I might be doomed never to find." Natalie Portman was so right in Garden State when she said that Shins song would "change your life." See? I collect quotes.
I used to etch them in notebook after notebook. Now I keep them on Pinterest and hoard them. To me, quotes can comfort and often put to words what you are feeling in your darkest or most hopeless moments. Many people find Bible verses provide this comfort but I look to other writings.
I've always loved movies and series and I must have thousands of collected quotes from my favorite scenes or moments. And once you collect the quote it takes you back to the exact scene. Some scenes of movies and series are synonymous with the quotes and are embedded within us, some we revisit when we are closer to those iconic moments mirroring our present circumstance.
I think Sarah Silverman recently posted on her Instagram a clip of her watching the absolutely epic scene in Sex and The City where Carrie says to Big "We're so over we need a new word for over." You can hear Sarah Silverman say "Fuck yeah," in reaction. I think all women have felt that moment.
I used to speak mostly in movie quotes and am fluent in Friends show quotes. Also those of The Office. I think these can often help bridge the gap in social situations or help establish common ground but for me quotes are my comfort zone. On a down day, I just quote collect and feel better or revisit that moment from a show and say, "I've totally been there!"
I could list and list and list them but I'd rather open forum this. We currently live in a world where quotes now come in the form of memes and still/screen shots. Feel free to post them in the comments. I want to know what quotes have made your day or made you relate. I want to hear from you!
Monday, August 27, 2018
Challenge 12: If I Won The Lottery
So to kick off another week at this, the challenge is to write about if I won the lottery. There was an entire episode about this on The Office. When I was in my twenties it was all about going all the places and having all the things. Now I would like to own multiple small homes/condos in a few great places so I had free places to stay or I could AirBnB that stuff for income. Wait, is this adulting?
I also wouldn't quit a job. I'd work part time at something I was in love with like...a coffee shop. And then I would take many trips to do what I want to do and enjoy life to it's fullest. I would also give some to a charity or 3 but help some of my closest friends who struggle by random acts of bill paying like, "Hey, I paid your rent, utilities, and 3 months of your phone bill, go get that purse you were saving for." Or, "Here is a gift certificate to your favorite store, go nuts!" Things like that make the world go round.
I think we have an obsession with this lottery question because financial freedom is such an ultimate goal. But one thing I have learned, the more money you have and you make, the more expenses come up. What was that song? "Mo, Money, Mo Problems,"? How is 90's music so very right on so often? What an era.
Anyway, this whole Lottery question is supposed to reflect who I am as a person, or at least that is my point of view on the issue. I think it's just a study of how much we like to indulge in the fantasy that life could get or will get "easier." As more and more days go by I realize that life doesn't get "better or worse," or just "More difficult or less bad." Life is just life and you have to deal with what happens as it comes to you. In some cases you will have some preparedness and in others it may hit you like a brick but sometimes bad things just happen.
I've learned over the past two years and test myself daily on the fact that most of life's obstacles and hardships are all about how you look at it and how you tackle the issues. So if you win a million dollars you can buy all the things and have a bunch of stuff, or you can pay off some debts and save some and keep working. Maybe you could take a fabulous vacation to a dream location with no debt and then save for some other places as well.
And money does run out. You can spend it all and do very little, so going all crazy is just never a good idea, in my humble opinion. I'm instantly reminded of that scene in Wolf of Wall Street where Leonardo DiCaprio throws money off of the boat at the IRS. Let's not do that.
I'm sure we've written many, many essays in our school careers about this. I honestly probably had better money ideas when I was a kid. But I will leave you with this, the lottery is very random and highly unlikely, like many things in life. On bad days it is fun to get caught up in the IFs but we cannot live there. So go ahead and plan to spend your fictional fortune, but don't forget to pay your actual bills in the mean time!
I also wouldn't quit a job. I'd work part time at something I was in love with like...a coffee shop. And then I would take many trips to do what I want to do and enjoy life to it's fullest. I would also give some to a charity or 3 but help some of my closest friends who struggle by random acts of bill paying like, "Hey, I paid your rent, utilities, and 3 months of your phone bill, go get that purse you were saving for." Or, "Here is a gift certificate to your favorite store, go nuts!" Things like that make the world go round.
I think we have an obsession with this lottery question because financial freedom is such an ultimate goal. But one thing I have learned, the more money you have and you make, the more expenses come up. What was that song? "Mo, Money, Mo Problems,"? How is 90's music so very right on so often? What an era.
Anyway, this whole Lottery question is supposed to reflect who I am as a person, or at least that is my point of view on the issue. I think it's just a study of how much we like to indulge in the fantasy that life could get or will get "easier." As more and more days go by I realize that life doesn't get "better or worse," or just "More difficult or less bad." Life is just life and you have to deal with what happens as it comes to you. In some cases you will have some preparedness and in others it may hit you like a brick but sometimes bad things just happen.
I've learned over the past two years and test myself daily on the fact that most of life's obstacles and hardships are all about how you look at it and how you tackle the issues. So if you win a million dollars you can buy all the things and have a bunch of stuff, or you can pay off some debts and save some and keep working. Maybe you could take a fabulous vacation to a dream location with no debt and then save for some other places as well.
And money does run out. You can spend it all and do very little, so going all crazy is just never a good idea, in my humble opinion. I'm instantly reminded of that scene in Wolf of Wall Street where Leonardo DiCaprio throws money off of the boat at the IRS. Let's not do that.
I'm sure we've written many, many essays in our school careers about this. I honestly probably had better money ideas when I was a kid. But I will leave you with this, the lottery is very random and highly unlikely, like many things in life. On bad days it is fun to get caught up in the IFs but we cannot live there. So go ahead and plan to spend your fictional fortune, but don't forget to pay your actual bills in the mean time!
Friday, August 24, 2018
Blog Challenge 11: My Most Proud Moment
I feel like if I were to type "When I had my daughter," the moms would all be like "Yas queen," and all the single ladies would be like"Oh, seriously?" So I think we need to dissect this a bit.
Being proud eh? My most proud moment when I was younger was winning the 4th Grade Talent Show for singing "Castle on a Cloud" from Les Miserables. My mom found me a dingy old nightgown at GoodWill and unearthed a ratty stuffed animal. I've always loved to sing but stage fright is no joke. I took voice lessons from 2nd grade through Sophomore year and then high school politics killed my dream of ever being able to have any real performer-type things happen.
Anyway, my Voice Instructor played the piano for me and chose the song. I always wanted Disney. She always wanted Broadway. I remember being nervous and having this bear in my hands as part of the act, and as I sang and the more nervous I got, the more I just focused on the bear. It was just me and the stuffed animal. The song is about a sad, poor little child in London dreaming of not sweeping floors and one day having toys. It may have been my finest performance of all time and it won me first place against the boys in my class doing comedy routines and other people being talented as well. We may have a rogue VHS of this somewhere.
My one regret is I told my dad it wasn't worth him coming and that he also made me more nervous, so he missed it. My voice teacher said she almost messed up on the piano because she was so entranced by me and this bear performing such a heart-wrenching song to perfection. That was my peak I think, my American Idol moment.
Other proud moments in my life? At 18, I once told off an old man at Burger King who insinuated I was stupid for not being fast at math, which has always been a struggle for me. I was working the register and it broke and to make sure I gave correct change I started writing it out and he went off on me. I approached him later and told him I hope he never spoke to anyone else who was waiting on him like that again and he should be ashamed of himself for being so rude to someone trying to do well at their job.
I had proud moments with the kids I was a nanny for when they excelled at things, which they did often and still do. I've had proud moments of watching some of my favorite people grow into the fabulous mothers and women they are. But I will completely admit that my proud moment of ushering my baby from womb to world was because I did it completely without drugs, after my own mother said I wouldn't be able to handle it. Take that mom!
To make it even better, when I was super dilated and we had to ask for a wheelchair to get me into the building from the car where Luna was almost born Ricky Bobby style, I was yelling a lot. It hurt! The nurses looked up from their charting and conversations all annoyed and said, "Is this your first baby, honey?" "Yeah," I muttered in pain. "Okay sweetie, just calm down and keep it down, you'll be fine." I could feel the she-dragon and if another contraction hadn't hit me so fast, I was moments away from yelling "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Less than 10 minutes later I was in a delivery room pushing, so I think I had a right to be a little loud.
My midwife said to me when I was screaming, "You need to push down and when you scream you push outward. Push down!" Getting my perfect daughter out in 3, bad ass, hardcore pushes, and then apparently making an intern faint, was a proud moment.
In motherhood, however, my proud moments have come from watching her with other people. It's not about walking and talking but her attitude that makes me proud. That kid perseveres just like her stubborn mother and when that happens, I get proud.
Last year she had a little boy in her after school program who kept hitting her in her crotch region and also put his hands on her throat once. I harnessed my mama bear and I said, "Baby, no one is allowed to touch you without your permission. And no one but mommy, daddy, grandma and a teacher helping you in the potty, goes near your private parts and still, you communicate with us when that happens. Now, we don't hit or hurt anyone, but if that boy is hurting you, and you need to get away, you get away from him and get help. Tell a teacher. You push him off of you and get to someone who can help. You don't let him hurt you!" She said "Okay mommy, I understand."
I was thankful it never came to that, but proud of her for telling adults what was happening and that she didn't like it. Most 4-year-old's might not. She now quotes the Aristocats often saying "Ladies do not start fights but we know how to finish them!" I do not disagree with her.
Overall though, I work on being proud of myself and I do this daily. We are our own worst critics aren't we? I get proud of myself when I get through a horrible day with no wine or no crying! I am proud of myself for working out consistently and finding ways to manage my anxiety. I'm proud of myself for knowing when to let people in and knowing when to just shut up. I'm proud of myself for not giving up when life has beaten me to a pulp but also not giving up on myself. And I'm excited for more and more most-proud moments, especially when you least expect them. We'll see if any are blog-worthy!
Being proud eh? My most proud moment when I was younger was winning the 4th Grade Talent Show for singing "Castle on a Cloud" from Les Miserables. My mom found me a dingy old nightgown at GoodWill and unearthed a ratty stuffed animal. I've always loved to sing but stage fright is no joke. I took voice lessons from 2nd grade through Sophomore year and then high school politics killed my dream of ever being able to have any real performer-type things happen.
Anyway, my Voice Instructor played the piano for me and chose the song. I always wanted Disney. She always wanted Broadway. I remember being nervous and having this bear in my hands as part of the act, and as I sang and the more nervous I got, the more I just focused on the bear. It was just me and the stuffed animal. The song is about a sad, poor little child in London dreaming of not sweeping floors and one day having toys. It may have been my finest performance of all time and it won me first place against the boys in my class doing comedy routines and other people being talented as well. We may have a rogue VHS of this somewhere.
My one regret is I told my dad it wasn't worth him coming and that he also made me more nervous, so he missed it. My voice teacher said she almost messed up on the piano because she was so entranced by me and this bear performing such a heart-wrenching song to perfection. That was my peak I think, my American Idol moment.
Other proud moments in my life? At 18, I once told off an old man at Burger King who insinuated I was stupid for not being fast at math, which has always been a struggle for me. I was working the register and it broke and to make sure I gave correct change I started writing it out and he went off on me. I approached him later and told him I hope he never spoke to anyone else who was waiting on him like that again and he should be ashamed of himself for being so rude to someone trying to do well at their job.
I had proud moments with the kids I was a nanny for when they excelled at things, which they did often and still do. I've had proud moments of watching some of my favorite people grow into the fabulous mothers and women they are. But I will completely admit that my proud moment of ushering my baby from womb to world was because I did it completely without drugs, after my own mother said I wouldn't be able to handle it. Take that mom!
To make it even better, when I was super dilated and we had to ask for a wheelchair to get me into the building from the car where Luna was almost born Ricky Bobby style, I was yelling a lot. It hurt! The nurses looked up from their charting and conversations all annoyed and said, "Is this your first baby, honey?" "Yeah," I muttered in pain. "Okay sweetie, just calm down and keep it down, you'll be fine." I could feel the she-dragon and if another contraction hadn't hit me so fast, I was moments away from yelling "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Less than 10 minutes later I was in a delivery room pushing, so I think I had a right to be a little loud.
My midwife said to me when I was screaming, "You need to push down and when you scream you push outward. Push down!" Getting my perfect daughter out in 3, bad ass, hardcore pushes, and then apparently making an intern faint, was a proud moment.
In motherhood, however, my proud moments have come from watching her with other people. It's not about walking and talking but her attitude that makes me proud. That kid perseveres just like her stubborn mother and when that happens, I get proud.
Last year she had a little boy in her after school program who kept hitting her in her crotch region and also put his hands on her throat once. I harnessed my mama bear and I said, "Baby, no one is allowed to touch you without your permission. And no one but mommy, daddy, grandma and a teacher helping you in the potty, goes near your private parts and still, you communicate with us when that happens. Now, we don't hit or hurt anyone, but if that boy is hurting you, and you need to get away, you get away from him and get help. Tell a teacher. You push him off of you and get to someone who can help. You don't let him hurt you!" She said "Okay mommy, I understand."
I was thankful it never came to that, but proud of her for telling adults what was happening and that she didn't like it. Most 4-year-old's might not. She now quotes the Aristocats often saying "Ladies do not start fights but we know how to finish them!" I do not disagree with her.
Overall though, I work on being proud of myself and I do this daily. We are our own worst critics aren't we? I get proud of myself when I get through a horrible day with no wine or no crying! I am proud of myself for working out consistently and finding ways to manage my anxiety. I'm proud of myself for knowing when to let people in and knowing when to just shut up. I'm proud of myself for not giving up when life has beaten me to a pulp but also not giving up on myself. And I'm excited for more and more most-proud moments, especially when you least expect them. We'll see if any are blog-worthy!
Thursday, August 23, 2018
Challenge 10: My First Celebrity Crush
So we are ten challenges in and I will admit I'm having a day that was set on me throwing me off from wanting to do this but, I don't want to miss out, except when I'm being lazy on weekends.
As I've recently discovered I am an "Elder Millennial." So I came about during a time where the 80's were in full swing but 70's stuff was still cool. My first celebrity crush was none other than DAVY JONES of The Monkees. I watched that show in syndication relentlessly, knew all the words to all the songs, and loved Davy Jones almost as much as Marcia Brady loved him. Ironically, I did not really watch The Brady Bunch, but I loved the Monkees. My dad had most of their albums on vinyl, which I have since procured and still listen to today.
Other celebrity crushes over the years included Zac Hanson (of course), various members of the Backstreet Boys but not *NSYNC. It is my humble opinion that Justin Timberlake's hotness was not fully formed until he went solo. As a 90's kid and Home Improvement fan, I loved Johnathan Taylor Thomas and from Full House, DJ's boyfriend Steve was dreamy as well.
I missed most of the teen heart-throb romance shows but I will say that even though it has been revealed that "Zack Morris is Trash," boy did I love Mark-Paul Gosselaar and wish that I was Kelly Kapowski. Slater was not for me and Screech? Really?
I would say I wasn't as obsessed with the mainstream boys the older I got. I had a thing for Topher Grace, not Ashton Kutcher. I had no attraction to anyone on Dawson's Creek. I was very, very in love with David Duchovny AKA Fox Mulder and the fact that Scully was a red-head just meant someday we would be together. I am actually still optimistic about that one.
But, I digress, my first, real celebrity crush was Davy Jones. I missed my only opportunity to see him live with the Monkees before he passed away about 9 years ago. I will forever regret not going into debt and calling out of work to see him on stage but clearly, in more ways than one, we were not meant to be together. I am still open to all my other crushes though, so feel free to pass along my information.
As I've recently discovered I am an "Elder Millennial." So I came about during a time where the 80's were in full swing but 70's stuff was still cool. My first celebrity crush was none other than DAVY JONES of The Monkees. I watched that show in syndication relentlessly, knew all the words to all the songs, and loved Davy Jones almost as much as Marcia Brady loved him. Ironically, I did not really watch The Brady Bunch, but I loved the Monkees. My dad had most of their albums on vinyl, which I have since procured and still listen to today.
Other celebrity crushes over the years included Zac Hanson (of course), various members of the Backstreet Boys but not *NSYNC. It is my humble opinion that Justin Timberlake's hotness was not fully formed until he went solo. As a 90's kid and Home Improvement fan, I loved Johnathan Taylor Thomas and from Full House, DJ's boyfriend Steve was dreamy as well.
I missed most of the teen heart-throb romance shows but I will say that even though it has been revealed that "Zack Morris is Trash," boy did I love Mark-Paul Gosselaar and wish that I was Kelly Kapowski. Slater was not for me and Screech? Really?
I would say I wasn't as obsessed with the mainstream boys the older I got. I had a thing for Topher Grace, not Ashton Kutcher. I had no attraction to anyone on Dawson's Creek. I was very, very in love with David Duchovny AKA Fox Mulder and the fact that Scully was a red-head just meant someday we would be together. I am actually still optimistic about that one.
But, I digress, my first, real celebrity crush was Davy Jones. I missed my only opportunity to see him live with the Monkees before he passed away about 9 years ago. I will forever regret not going into debt and calling out of work to see him on stage but clearly, in more ways than one, we were not meant to be together. I am still open to all my other crushes though, so feel free to pass along my information.
Wednesday, August 22, 2018
Challenge 9: Piercing and Tattoos? OH YES!
I got my nose pierced when I was 16, I think. Of course my mom gave me permission and they money. I loved it and I had a cute little stud. I actually liked the needle better than the guns they used on my ears. I promised myself tattoos when I turned 18.
I love them both as artistic expressions of yourself and permanent reminders of whatever you were feeling around their entrance onto your body. My first tattoo was something really ridiculous in Elvish...Lord of the Rings was THE SERIES when I was in High School okay? And yes I knew the nerds who could read and speak it. People speak Kling-on, don't judge!
Then I saved up and got an Orchid tramp stamp on my lower back. I literally got that back tattoo not a month before the "Tramp Stamp" phrase ran rampant across all cult classic movies and trendy comedies. I don't regret the gorgeous work, but the placement is boring and typical.
When I was 18, I also got a nose ring right next to my stud, like an actual hoop though. I rocked this look and miss it daily. When living in Eugene, Oregon for college, piercings are tantamount to spiritual growth.
When I was 19, my cousin's boyfriend was a piercer at my favorite piercing and tattoo shop. I wanted to get my eyebrow pierced, the one opposite the side of my nose that was pierced. He did it and it hurt like hell. He then said "wait, let me just see something for symmetry." I felt him put the dots on my second eyebrow. "No, I don't want two, I said. Ouch." He said, yeah but I just want to see because I think you could rock both with your nose piercings like you would look bad ass so let me just look."
SNAP! "Ow, motherfucker that hurt!," I cried! "See, symmetry?," He said. "They look awesome. No charge for the second one." I did rock them for about 6 months by my body physically rejected them and they wouldn't heal properly.
After age 20 I didn't do anything else until my thirties. I took out my piercings when I was 24 because we got married and then moved across the country well aware that no piercings would make the job hunt much easier. I dislike that a stud or ring in your nose or any kind of piercing or tattoo plays any part in judging your ability to do anything but it's the sad truth.
From 32 to 33 I got 3 tattoos after a traumatic car accident. The first one is meant to be a treble clef semicolon signifying the semicolon movement for suicide and depression awareness. The slogan for that movement is "My story isn't over yet," but even as a writer I have more of a musical obsession so I wanted it to signify "My song isn't finished playing yet." It is behind my ear.
Shortly after that one I covered my lower hip elvish tattoo with a favorite album cover and quote from my favorite band, with which I have NO SHAME and NO REGRET, judge if you must...Hanson...and it reads, "If you can't get through it, you can listen it it." That one hurt!
And my most recent is a small unalome, of which my best friend from 3rd grade and on got a matching one, on my side where my bra sits, and that is the symbol for the path to enlightenment. Both her and I have suffered some trauma so we thought it appropriate. I'm also constantly pinning ideas for new ones because I love ink! LOVE LOVE!
Tattoos are beautiful and very brave because they do welcome some stares and open you to questions. If you have many visible tattoos people do judge you because of them. I find that completely unfair and absolute bullshit but it is a fact of life.
I love how every tattoo has a story. I have some friends I love with Disney or Harry Potter tattoos and it's never just "Oh they like those characters," there is always some amazing story. And I love the people that are just brave enough to say I put this on my skin to remind me of this or because that moved or changed me. I love the connections we make over these artistic expressions. I think they keep us human. And anyone who willingly goes through that kind of pain is strong, not that people without tattoos are weak, but I think a different kind of strength draws others to body art.
You do only get one life and I respect and admire anyone who wants to color their lives accordingly! I can't wait to collect more works of art on my body!
I love them both as artistic expressions of yourself and permanent reminders of whatever you were feeling around their entrance onto your body. My first tattoo was something really ridiculous in Elvish...Lord of the Rings was THE SERIES when I was in High School okay? And yes I knew the nerds who could read and speak it. People speak Kling-on, don't judge!
Then I saved up and got an Orchid tramp stamp on my lower back. I literally got that back tattoo not a month before the "Tramp Stamp" phrase ran rampant across all cult classic movies and trendy comedies. I don't regret the gorgeous work, but the placement is boring and typical.
When I was 18, I also got a nose ring right next to my stud, like an actual hoop though. I rocked this look and miss it daily. When living in Eugene, Oregon for college, piercings are tantamount to spiritual growth.
When I was 19, my cousin's boyfriend was a piercer at my favorite piercing and tattoo shop. I wanted to get my eyebrow pierced, the one opposite the side of my nose that was pierced. He did it and it hurt like hell. He then said "wait, let me just see something for symmetry." I felt him put the dots on my second eyebrow. "No, I don't want two, I said. Ouch." He said, yeah but I just want to see because I think you could rock both with your nose piercings like you would look bad ass so let me just look."
SNAP! "Ow, motherfucker that hurt!," I cried! "See, symmetry?," He said. "They look awesome. No charge for the second one." I did rock them for about 6 months by my body physically rejected them and they wouldn't heal properly.
After age 20 I didn't do anything else until my thirties. I took out my piercings when I was 24 because we got married and then moved across the country well aware that no piercings would make the job hunt much easier. I dislike that a stud or ring in your nose or any kind of piercing or tattoo plays any part in judging your ability to do anything but it's the sad truth.
From 32 to 33 I got 3 tattoos after a traumatic car accident. The first one is meant to be a treble clef semicolon signifying the semicolon movement for suicide and depression awareness. The slogan for that movement is "My story isn't over yet," but even as a writer I have more of a musical obsession so I wanted it to signify "My song isn't finished playing yet." It is behind my ear.
Shortly after that one I covered my lower hip elvish tattoo with a favorite album cover and quote from my favorite band, with which I have NO SHAME and NO REGRET, judge if you must...Hanson...and it reads, "If you can't get through it, you can listen it it." That one hurt!
And my most recent is a small unalome, of which my best friend from 3rd grade and on got a matching one, on my side where my bra sits, and that is the symbol for the path to enlightenment. Both her and I have suffered some trauma so we thought it appropriate. I'm also constantly pinning ideas for new ones because I love ink! LOVE LOVE!
Tattoos are beautiful and very brave because they do welcome some stares and open you to questions. If you have many visible tattoos people do judge you because of them. I find that completely unfair and absolute bullshit but it is a fact of life.
I love how every tattoo has a story. I have some friends I love with Disney or Harry Potter tattoos and it's never just "Oh they like those characters," there is always some amazing story. And I love the people that are just brave enough to say I put this on my skin to remind me of this or because that moved or changed me. I love the connections we make over these artistic expressions. I think they keep us human. And anyone who willingly goes through that kind of pain is strong, not that people without tattoos are weak, but I think a different kind of strength draws others to body art.
You do only get one life and I respect and admire anyone who wants to color their lives accordingly! I can't wait to collect more works of art on my body!
Challenge 8 - Old Photo of Me...Nope and This Is Why
I truly feel like you cannot accurately post a pre-smart phone picture anymore without it just looking so damn old. I just feel like when you take a picture of the picture to post to social media, they all look like those old photos from the 50's you used to find in your attic that you judged.
I don't need anything else to remind me that motherhood has aged me. So, I don't want to post an old photo and it also blows my mind that my 5-year-old's entire existence has been captured via Facebook and Instagram and on top of that, mostly hangs out in some cloud that we just trust to hold our shit! Like has anyone ever really looked into the Google Drive and backup stuff? You log in and you can find it but what if some technological apocalyptic crash happens -- spur new wave of scary films -- and you didn't print REAL copies of your 40,000 pictures of food, your children, and your selfies that you have 20 each of to get the one RIGHT one that looked "effortless?"
It's so weird to think that we have this miniature computers that just rule our worlds. We all pretend that they don't but the ability to be able to capture any moment at any time without being like..."wait I need to grab my camera!," is still pretty amazing when you think about it. It can get creepy if you think about the logistics too much, but mostly it is awesome.
And I also think that while nostalgia is so awesome, looking at old photos to remember "the good times" can get daunting. I feel like it's forced memories sometimes. Every so often a trip down memory lane is good but you can't live there. It's not a good idea.
So there you have it, another little chapter completed but today I'm doing a total of two updates because I'm more excited about the next one! Stay tuned!
I don't need anything else to remind me that motherhood has aged me. So, I don't want to post an old photo and it also blows my mind that my 5-year-old's entire existence has been captured via Facebook and Instagram and on top of that, mostly hangs out in some cloud that we just trust to hold our shit! Like has anyone ever really looked into the Google Drive and backup stuff? You log in and you can find it but what if some technological apocalyptic crash happens -- spur new wave of scary films -- and you didn't print REAL copies of your 40,000 pictures of food, your children, and your selfies that you have 20 each of to get the one RIGHT one that looked "effortless?"
It's so weird to think that we have this miniature computers that just rule our worlds. We all pretend that they don't but the ability to be able to capture any moment at any time without being like..."wait I need to grab my camera!," is still pretty amazing when you think about it. It can get creepy if you think about the logistics too much, but mostly it is awesome.
And I also think that while nostalgia is so awesome, looking at old photos to remember "the good times" can get daunting. I feel like it's forced memories sometimes. Every so often a trip down memory lane is good but you can't live there. It's not a good idea.
So there you have it, another little chapter completed but today I'm doing a total of two updates because I'm more excited about the next one! Stay tuned!
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
Blog Challenge Day 7: 10 Favorite Foods
As if this didn't feel narcissistic enough, although a good writing practice, now let's talk about what I like to eat!
My number one favorite food is: SALAD, not lying. I love salads. They are easy to put together and super good for you.
2. Tacos. Tacos are life. Ironically, tacos were the thing I had right before I was violently ill from appendicitis but I took a break and then came back with a vengeance!
3. Pizza, but I'm picky. The chef hubby makes the best homemade so I get a little snobby. And I don't care what anyone says, if you can't make a good cheese pizza you can't make a pizza period.
4. Coconut things: Coconut cake, cookies, coconut water, candies, coconut milk, protein bars. ALL THE COCONUT THINGS.
5. Sushi! Sushi is my favorite meal out. So frigging delicious! Although I only like the rolls, the raw fish on rice with no other flavor is a bit intense.
6. Ice Cream Cake. Preferably Carvel. The chocolate crumblies in the middle are what make it worth being a thicker person. I hate sharing my birthday cake. It's my day!
7. Steak. When I was pregnant, all I wanted was steak and potatoes. Seriously just meat and taters. Steak, when cooked properly, is the reason why we eat meat.
8. And also Bacon, of course, which makes everything better. This might technically be like a number 2 or 4 swap but bacon is life also. The reason I cannot be a vegetarian is BACON. I even enjoy some tofu dishes but bacon just is amazing. Always!
9. Grandma UTZ Potato chips. Have you ever had these? Best chips on the planet. Pretty sure you could make a candle from the lard dripping if you held it by the fire but the salt and deliciousness, oh my goodness!
10. Twizzlers. I am not a red vine person. Twizzlers. This I got from my mother.
I do consider myself a foodie. I will try just about anything. I'm not a fan of duck or lamb as I find those animal to precious to consume. I also don't like anything too gamey but had Elk burgers once that were to die for. I have had fancy stuff and love the atmosphere of certain places to try new things or pay for an insanely amazing meal but I can also take down a cheesy Gordita crunch with the best of them at Taco Bell. And for any hangover, I require a sausage McMuffin. Food makes life more flavorful, which is why I work out a lot.
My number one favorite food is: SALAD, not lying. I love salads. They are easy to put together and super good for you.
2. Tacos. Tacos are life. Ironically, tacos were the thing I had right before I was violently ill from appendicitis but I took a break and then came back with a vengeance!
3. Pizza, but I'm picky. The chef hubby makes the best homemade so I get a little snobby. And I don't care what anyone says, if you can't make a good cheese pizza you can't make a pizza period.
4. Coconut things: Coconut cake, cookies, coconut water, candies, coconut milk, protein bars. ALL THE COCONUT THINGS.
5. Sushi! Sushi is my favorite meal out. So frigging delicious! Although I only like the rolls, the raw fish on rice with no other flavor is a bit intense.
6. Ice Cream Cake. Preferably Carvel. The chocolate crumblies in the middle are what make it worth being a thicker person. I hate sharing my birthday cake. It's my day!
7. Steak. When I was pregnant, all I wanted was steak and potatoes. Seriously just meat and taters. Steak, when cooked properly, is the reason why we eat meat.
8. And also Bacon, of course, which makes everything better. This might technically be like a number 2 or 4 swap but bacon is life also. The reason I cannot be a vegetarian is BACON. I even enjoy some tofu dishes but bacon just is amazing. Always!
9. Grandma UTZ Potato chips. Have you ever had these? Best chips on the planet. Pretty sure you could make a candle from the lard dripping if you held it by the fire but the salt and deliciousness, oh my goodness!
10. Twizzlers. I am not a red vine person. Twizzlers. This I got from my mother.
I do consider myself a foodie. I will try just about anything. I'm not a fan of duck or lamb as I find those animal to precious to consume. I also don't like anything too gamey but had Elk burgers once that were to die for. I have had fancy stuff and love the atmosphere of certain places to try new things or pay for an insanely amazing meal but I can also take down a cheesy Gordita crunch with the best of them at Taco Bell. And for any hangover, I require a sausage McMuffin. Food makes life more flavorful, which is why I work out a lot.
Monday, August 20, 2018
Challenge 6: Three Personality Traits That I Am Proud Of
In this day and age self esteem is like a hidden superpower. We are surrounded by negativity and social media chaos constantly causing comparisons and self doubt. So the challenge is 3 personality traits I'm proud of: First, my die-hard attitude with friendships, then my epic sarcastic humor, and third, my constant need to persevere through any of life's crap.
Anyone who has known me for longer than a few years knows that I take friendships very seriously. I will buy, steal, maim, and do just about anything for someone I want as my friend and whomever is my friend back. This often bites me in the ass in the long run. I work really hard at any relationship and invest a lot in others and when others don't reciprocate it's super difficult for me.
Family stuff has always been a challenge for me because of my parents split when I was 12 and a lot of instability for my formative years. I always found solace in friends because, as a "technical" only child, they were who I spent my childhood with. I'm often seen as an overwhelming force because I work so hard to maintain relationships with others. I fly across the country, drive hours, and I truly devote my time and my entire self to the people I love.
My sarcastic humor, which can rival most, was born primarily from the greatest movie ever made, "The Princess Bride." Sarcasm has been a tool that has gotten me into trouble, out of trouble and through some of the shit in my life I wish I hadn't had to deal with. My daughter has picked it up, it bites me on the ass daily, but also makes me happy that she is witty and funny and cute.
Lastly, my ability to persevere through some shit. Now, don't get me wrong, everyone has seen some shit and I personally love hearing everyone's truth and trials, but I've lived quite a life for not being so very old. When my first, real boyfriend, tried to steal my car and my laptop after leaving me at the airport for about 4 hours when I came home from a trip, my dad sat me down and instead of reading me the riot act, told me that he just didn't want me to forget that there were still good people who wouldn't treat me that way. He reminded me that even within the bad, there is still good. And I've carried that with me.
I definitely went through my angry teen into twenties time. I smoked cigarettes and said "fuck all" to everything. But that didn't serve me as well as the belief that there was inherently some good, somewhere around. I also went through a lot of therapy to learn how to manage my depression, stress and anxieties that kicked into serious high gear when life kicked my ass.
And I learned to be careful with whom I share my issues with. This is a constant lesson. Often you will find that timing is everything and in one person's dire hour you will find that goodness and common ground that you can stand on to share and reveal.
If I were to just list the bullshit it would go like this: I lost my childhood to my mother's drug addiction, survived 3 different high schools in 3 years and moving across the country twice, followed by graduating and working full time through college and living with roommates to make ends meet. Then I lost both my grandparents within a year, my mom had a cancer scare and then a violent relapse during which I graduated college through, got married and moved back across the country.
Into marriage I worked any job I needed to for a few years until we chose to get pregnant, had a failure to thrive baby at 3 weeks old and I spent 10 days alone in the hospital with my baby girl to get us back on track. When my daughter was 3 all of us were in a horribly traumatic car accident where we came out worse for the wear but we are all lucky to be alive and well. She had 2 broken legs and was in a wheelchair for 6 weeks and had two surgeries, and my husband had surgery on his bicep tendon, and I had head staples, bruising and I now have severe PTSD.
Through this all, I managed to have no psychotic episodes. There were and are, however, many crying jags. Many, many, many bad days pummeled me, but I pushed through it all with the help of many and will always continue. My favorite uncle always says, "We continue."
Some people could use any of these unfortunate circumstances as a reason to end up in a padded room or be a less-than-great person in life, but I've worked really hard to persevere and not let them tank my existence, and that makes me proud. I hold these triumphs close and when I hear other friends going through their stuff, struggling to persevere, I offer my support and a sarcastic comment. Because not only do I channel Chandler Bing saying "I'm not so good with the advice, can I offer you a sarcastic comment?," but be real, laughter always helps.
Anyone who has known me for longer than a few years knows that I take friendships very seriously. I will buy, steal, maim, and do just about anything for someone I want as my friend and whomever is my friend back. This often bites me in the ass in the long run. I work really hard at any relationship and invest a lot in others and when others don't reciprocate it's super difficult for me.
Family stuff has always been a challenge for me because of my parents split when I was 12 and a lot of instability for my formative years. I always found solace in friends because, as a "technical" only child, they were who I spent my childhood with. I'm often seen as an overwhelming force because I work so hard to maintain relationships with others. I fly across the country, drive hours, and I truly devote my time and my entire self to the people I love.
My sarcastic humor, which can rival most, was born primarily from the greatest movie ever made, "The Princess Bride." Sarcasm has been a tool that has gotten me into trouble, out of trouble and through some of the shit in my life I wish I hadn't had to deal with. My daughter has picked it up, it bites me on the ass daily, but also makes me happy that she is witty and funny and cute.
Lastly, my ability to persevere through some shit. Now, don't get me wrong, everyone has seen some shit and I personally love hearing everyone's truth and trials, but I've lived quite a life for not being so very old. When my first, real boyfriend, tried to steal my car and my laptop after leaving me at the airport for about 4 hours when I came home from a trip, my dad sat me down and instead of reading me the riot act, told me that he just didn't want me to forget that there were still good people who wouldn't treat me that way. He reminded me that even within the bad, there is still good. And I've carried that with me.
I definitely went through my angry teen into twenties time. I smoked cigarettes and said "fuck all" to everything. But that didn't serve me as well as the belief that there was inherently some good, somewhere around. I also went through a lot of therapy to learn how to manage my depression, stress and anxieties that kicked into serious high gear when life kicked my ass.
And I learned to be careful with whom I share my issues with. This is a constant lesson. Often you will find that timing is everything and in one person's dire hour you will find that goodness and common ground that you can stand on to share and reveal.
If I were to just list the bullshit it would go like this: I lost my childhood to my mother's drug addiction, survived 3 different high schools in 3 years and moving across the country twice, followed by graduating and working full time through college and living with roommates to make ends meet. Then I lost both my grandparents within a year, my mom had a cancer scare and then a violent relapse during which I graduated college through, got married and moved back across the country.
Into marriage I worked any job I needed to for a few years until we chose to get pregnant, had a failure to thrive baby at 3 weeks old and I spent 10 days alone in the hospital with my baby girl to get us back on track. When my daughter was 3 all of us were in a horribly traumatic car accident where we came out worse for the wear but we are all lucky to be alive and well. She had 2 broken legs and was in a wheelchair for 6 weeks and had two surgeries, and my husband had surgery on his bicep tendon, and I had head staples, bruising and I now have severe PTSD.
Through this all, I managed to have no psychotic episodes. There were and are, however, many crying jags. Many, many, many bad days pummeled me, but I pushed through it all with the help of many and will always continue. My favorite uncle always says, "We continue."
Some people could use any of these unfortunate circumstances as a reason to end up in a padded room or be a less-than-great person in life, but I've worked really hard to persevere and not let them tank my existence, and that makes me proud. I hold these triumphs close and when I hear other friends going through their stuff, struggling to persevere, I offer my support and a sarcastic comment. Because not only do I channel Chandler Bing saying "I'm not so good with the advice, can I offer you a sarcastic comment?," but be real, laughter always helps.
Challenge Day 5: My Guilty Pleasure
Is this a foray into that romantic novel thing I suggested? Most likely, not. I think my guiltiest pleasure besides re-watching The Office and Friends ad nauseam, is really just bad television. I had this obsession with America's Next Top Model for a year or so and the first round of VH1 reality shows like Celebrity Rehab, Flavor of Love and the spin off of that, I Love New York. Although maybe it is just TV and reruns all together because my major obsession in syndication was Beverly Hills, 90210. Man, did I just I love the ridiculous drama.
More ridiculous is that I actually have decent taste in most walks of life but those shows are like tabloid magazines, the gossip is just so fun! I never get into the shows as they are popular though, I'm always behind the times but then I'm all in!
I think I've always loved living through shows and movies. Anything I can relate to, I'm very into. Or, when there is good writing, satire, and witty banter I can't get enough. I have such a cynical sense of humor that often gets me into trouble, but it plays towards a wide array of different interests for entertainment.
I think any escape from reality or a dose of someone else's reality is just a good way to zone out from all of life's chaos. I'm a total binge-r when it comes to a good series.
Sex and The City made me want to stay single in New York and be a struggling writer. Weeds made me want to be a suburban house wife pot dealer. Six Feet Under made me want to be a funeral director and Big Love made having sister wives look totally appealing when I was an exhausted, lonely mom. Mad Men just made me want to drink in the day time and be Don Draper's mistress and House of Cards makes me want to stay away from politics always. X-Files made me want to go investigate all the weird things! These shows bring you from one season of life to the next and, with the right people, provide quite the experience.
My dad and I used to watch X-Files religiously together. My girl friends and I snuck a water bottle of Cosmopolitans into the movie theater to watch the Sex and the City movie because we had all watched them obsessively. We used to have Weeds parties every week to watch in our tiny apartment crammed with like 8 friends because we were the only ones with cable. Mad Men I watched while breastfeeding at 1AM, 4AM, and whenever.
It also brings things to the conversation if you are watching a show that is widely popular and the "it" show of the season. I think TV and movies will always be my guilty pleasure but I'm not so sure I'm feeling very guilty about it. My dad and I coined the phrase "vidiot," for a person who spends way too much time with television but also we both enjoy investing our time in movies and series on a regular basis.
For me TV is my wind-down and chill time. There's no thinking, you just sit and absorb. And going into another world when yours feels so heavy, is just such a nice release and stress reliever for me. There's also nothing better than cuddling up and watching something together. After working all day, working out, being a mom and such, it's often nice to just crawl into bed and watch a favorite thing or something new.
I will admit sometimes I get so involved in the series I forget they aren't real people or I have to watch as much as possible until I know all the things that have happened. That is my personality to a tee! I do believe there is a healthy versus unhealthy realm of all of it and it can easily be abused. I wouldn't want to miss out on real life stuff because of a movie or show. And becoming too much of a recluse into a fantasy world isn't good either. I think that guilty pleasures involve balance like anything else in life.
I often refer to that scene in Alice in Wonderland with the mushroom where too much makes you way too tall and you have to figure out how much to get the right fit. Oh, another guilty pleasure would be Disney movies. I can belt some Moana for real!
So enjoy your guilty pleasures, indulge but don't let them take over your reality! I don't actually want to be in Celebrity Rehab or on a show competing for love with Flava Flave. But it sure is fun to watch!
More ridiculous is that I actually have decent taste in most walks of life but those shows are like tabloid magazines, the gossip is just so fun! I never get into the shows as they are popular though, I'm always behind the times but then I'm all in!
I think I've always loved living through shows and movies. Anything I can relate to, I'm very into. Or, when there is good writing, satire, and witty banter I can't get enough. I have such a cynical sense of humor that often gets me into trouble, but it plays towards a wide array of different interests for entertainment.
I think any escape from reality or a dose of someone else's reality is just a good way to zone out from all of life's chaos. I'm a total binge-r when it comes to a good series.
Sex and The City made me want to stay single in New York and be a struggling writer. Weeds made me want to be a suburban house wife pot dealer. Six Feet Under made me want to be a funeral director and Big Love made having sister wives look totally appealing when I was an exhausted, lonely mom. Mad Men just made me want to drink in the day time and be Don Draper's mistress and House of Cards makes me want to stay away from politics always. X-Files made me want to go investigate all the weird things! These shows bring you from one season of life to the next and, with the right people, provide quite the experience.
My dad and I used to watch X-Files religiously together. My girl friends and I snuck a water bottle of Cosmopolitans into the movie theater to watch the Sex and the City movie because we had all watched them obsessively. We used to have Weeds parties every week to watch in our tiny apartment crammed with like 8 friends because we were the only ones with cable. Mad Men I watched while breastfeeding at 1AM, 4AM, and whenever.
It also brings things to the conversation if you are watching a show that is widely popular and the "it" show of the season. I think TV and movies will always be my guilty pleasure but I'm not so sure I'm feeling very guilty about it. My dad and I coined the phrase "vidiot," for a person who spends way too much time with television but also we both enjoy investing our time in movies and series on a regular basis.
For me TV is my wind-down and chill time. There's no thinking, you just sit and absorb. And going into another world when yours feels so heavy, is just such a nice release and stress reliever for me. There's also nothing better than cuddling up and watching something together. After working all day, working out, being a mom and such, it's often nice to just crawl into bed and watch a favorite thing or something new.
I will admit sometimes I get so involved in the series I forget they aren't real people or I have to watch as much as possible until I know all the things that have happened. That is my personality to a tee! I do believe there is a healthy versus unhealthy realm of all of it and it can easily be abused. I wouldn't want to miss out on real life stuff because of a movie or show. And becoming too much of a recluse into a fantasy world isn't good either. I think that guilty pleasures involve balance like anything else in life.
I often refer to that scene in Alice in Wonderland with the mushroom where too much makes you way too tall and you have to figure out how much to get the right fit. Oh, another guilty pleasure would be Disney movies. I can belt some Moana for real!
So enjoy your guilty pleasures, indulge but don't let them take over your reality! I don't actually want to be in Celebrity Rehab or on a show competing for love with Flava Flave. But it sure is fun to watch!
Friday, August 17, 2018
Challenge Post 4: My Earliest Childhood Memory
I'm four days into this posting challenge. Today is about my earliest childhood memory. My childhood before age 12 is pretty blurry. Things come in picture view or hazy revisits but there's not a lot there.
So I will share my favorite childhood memory, from which I have a detailed account. So here we go.
My mother got me very into American Girl Dolls. And I had Samantha. I was obsessed with the idea of collecting all the things from the catalog. I requested them specifically and carefully for each Christmas and Birthday.
I was old enough to read the labels on boxes and this Christmas I'd asked for Samantha's big ticket item and what she needed most for her room: her storage and clothing trunk. I'm pretty sure I was onto the whole Santa Scandal. I was a late bloomer with a vivid imagination and I loved to believe in anything magical so I kind of was under the impression that my parents took over for Santa, so he could concentrate on the younger kids, ya know?
I started stalking the mail and watching for boxes. None of the return labels said "American Girl" but I think I was aware of where the company was based out of. Regardless, there was one box that arrived like a week before Christmas and it was the right size but I was only about 75% sure.
I started telling my dad I knew what was in there, practically licking my lips because I could taste my success! I GOT THE TRUNK! It was so close to being mine. "That's my trunk, Dad. I know it! I'm getting it!" My dad looked at me plain-faced, "How do you know that's even for you? You don't know that's what you think it is." He did not change my conviction. I did not accept his response.
Finally he said, "That's not your trunk. Grandma ordered us a new lamp set for the North Carolina house. That's what it is." I refused to believe something so easily explained. I knew what I knew!
I kept at him some more about how I was just so sure. So sure! That box stayed as it was until Christmas morning. It wasn't wrapped or anything. It just stared at me. I think it was the last box, or close to it, and I was thus far trunk-less. I started to mentally sink. I didn't get it after all. I was defeated!
My dad had me help with the lamp. There was a hole in the corner of the box and he pulled out a cord and then lured me over to help with the rest. He won. It was a dumb lamp, or so I was convinced until he popped it open and said "Wait a minute, what's is this?!" I looked excitedly and there it was: Samantha's trunk, in all it's glory. And in the bottom corner of the box, the end of an extension cord.
I love this memory because to me it captures the greatness of my childhood before my family fell apart in later years. My dad was devoted to keeping that magic and wonder, and defying my growth by playing along with me instead of letting me win, and I hold that dear.
I tell this story as often as I can because it was wonderful ruse!
Thursday, August 16, 2018
Challenge Day 3: Meaning of my Business Name? Let's go with Meaning of My Blog and Facebook Names..
Oh I have business names in my pocket, don't you worry. The Facebook Page is Ali's Anthem, which came mostly from my music obsession. I've always felt I have had way more spiritual experiences through music than in church even. Perhaps that's blasphemy but it is what it is. The blog name is a play on words from a song I like and my sister has always joked about making a celebrity mag called "Diatribe" where we collect celebrity stories where they complain about mundane every day things that we have to deal with ourselves on a regular basis as regular people.
Now I want to shift this challenge to something more fun: YOU GUYS I JUST FOUND MY COMMENTS SECTION. There are 7 years worth of comments in there! Dang! So I want to thank all my readers in more ways than one, because you guys rock!
The thing is, there is such a laziness to me in such weird ways. I'm a very active person. In some ways I probably have ADD and my anxiety makes me obsessed with certain degrees of cleanliness and order but if something doesn't JUMP at me or present itself as easy to navigate, I won't always seek it out. So I'd seen a comment or two back in the day but as life has taken over I've definitely lost touch of little things.
In the world of Facebook and Instagram commentary is a big deal so why not here? Maybe there was a part of me that didn't want to read in case it was negative. Or maybe I just knew the select few that would rally.
I don't know that I consider blogging to be much of a business for me yet. My end goal is to absolutely write real things someday. I once had an epic dream for a music and food based magazine. I thought it would be fun to have my husband create recipes and wine pairings and I could have columns about the music to listen to while eating like "Pinot Noir and pasta requires Michael Buble to complete the evening." I'm ironic like that.
I also wanted to do some crazy romantic fiction because never in my life would anyone expect that from me and I bet that's a money-maker like Danielle Steele! I don't know about branding myself or having a real business name unless it came with a store front. And those you'll never get out of me.
But if you do have suggestions for blog names, please comment! I know how to find them now!
Now I want to shift this challenge to something more fun: YOU GUYS I JUST FOUND MY COMMENTS SECTION. There are 7 years worth of comments in there! Dang! So I want to thank all my readers in more ways than one, because you guys rock!
The thing is, there is such a laziness to me in such weird ways. I'm a very active person. In some ways I probably have ADD and my anxiety makes me obsessed with certain degrees of cleanliness and order but if something doesn't JUMP at me or present itself as easy to navigate, I won't always seek it out. So I'd seen a comment or two back in the day but as life has taken over I've definitely lost touch of little things.
In the world of Facebook and Instagram commentary is a big deal so why not here? Maybe there was a part of me that didn't want to read in case it was negative. Or maybe I just knew the select few that would rally.
I don't know that I consider blogging to be much of a business for me yet. My end goal is to absolutely write real things someday. I once had an epic dream for a music and food based magazine. I thought it would be fun to have my husband create recipes and wine pairings and I could have columns about the music to listen to while eating like "Pinot Noir and pasta requires Michael Buble to complete the evening." I'm ironic like that.
I also wanted to do some crazy romantic fiction because never in my life would anyone expect that from me and I bet that's a money-maker like Danielle Steele! I don't know about branding myself or having a real business name unless it came with a store front. And those you'll never get out of me.
But if you do have suggestions for blog names, please comment! I know how to find them now!
Wednesday, August 15, 2018
Challenge Day Two: 20 Facts About Me
So we meet again for blog challenge day two and I'm to give you 20 facts about me. Here we go!
1. I'm only 5 foot 1 and 1/2 inches tall and my husband says the 1/2 makes me sound ridiculous so just say "Five foot two."
2. My favorite stone is a Moonstone, which people confuse with Mood Stone which is not the same thing at all.
3. I have freakishly small feet for a grown woman.
4. My favorite band is, and will always be, Hanson. And no I'm not even remotely ashamed.
5. I'm deathly, not-even-funny-to-joke-about afraid of snakes. All of them.
6. I'm a terrible swimmer, I almost drowned 5 times before age 12 and at age 22 I took swim lessons at the YMCA and still have water issues. I'm mostly comfortable dog paddling.
7. I bite my nails when I'm anxious, which happens a lot.
8. I love roller-coasters.
9. I'm not the best roller skater but I dream of being on a derby team because I think that would be so fun.
10. I'm a decent tennis player but I rarely play.
11. I'm the only redhead in my entire family on both sides. So I married a redhead and created my own.
12. I wanted to be a music writer when I started going to school and college crushed my dreams but still gave me a degree.
13. I hate chocolate and peanut butter together, but enjoy them very much separately.
14. I'm a coffee snob.
15. Besides the fact that there are no snakes there, I have no desire to see Hawaii in my lifetime.
16. I'm a highly-creative under-acheiver.
17. I haven't read most "classic" books that are staples of high school and coming of age literature and I don't intend to read them.
18. I hate olives and have tried all the varieties.
19. I don't cook anything real at all. I'm not kidding. I can bake things a bit, I can make mac and cheese and sometimes Crock-pot things, but I can't cook anything edible.
20. Music is healing for me in every way, it can completely change my day and is therapeutic and something I hold very dear.
So now you know a bit more about me! Feel free to post commentary and tell me about you!
1. I'm only 5 foot 1 and 1/2 inches tall and my husband says the 1/2 makes me sound ridiculous so just say "Five foot two."
2. My favorite stone is a Moonstone, which people confuse with Mood Stone which is not the same thing at all.
3. I have freakishly small feet for a grown woman.
4. My favorite band is, and will always be, Hanson. And no I'm not even remotely ashamed.
5. I'm deathly, not-even-funny-to-joke-about afraid of snakes. All of them.
6. I'm a terrible swimmer, I almost drowned 5 times before age 12 and at age 22 I took swim lessons at the YMCA and still have water issues. I'm mostly comfortable dog paddling.
7. I bite my nails when I'm anxious, which happens a lot.
8. I love roller-coasters.
9. I'm not the best roller skater but I dream of being on a derby team because I think that would be so fun.
10. I'm a decent tennis player but I rarely play.
11. I'm the only redhead in my entire family on both sides. So I married a redhead and created my own.
12. I wanted to be a music writer when I started going to school and college crushed my dreams but still gave me a degree.
13. I hate chocolate and peanut butter together, but enjoy them very much separately.
14. I'm a coffee snob.
15. Besides the fact that there are no snakes there, I have no desire to see Hawaii in my lifetime.
16. I'm a highly-creative under-acheiver.
17. I haven't read most "classic" books that are staples of high school and coming of age literature and I don't intend to read them.
18. I hate olives and have tried all the varieties.
19. I don't cook anything real at all. I'm not kidding. I can bake things a bit, I can make mac and cheese and sometimes Crock-pot things, but I can't cook anything edible.
20. Music is healing for me in every way, it can completely change my day and is therapeutic and something I hold very dear.
So now you know a bit more about me! Feel free to post commentary and tell me about you!
Tuesday, August 14, 2018
One Month Blog Challenge: Introduction
Well hey there readers and fellow bloggers! To quote the great Austin Powers, "Allow myself to introduce...myself."
My name is Alison Chriss, formerly Alison Egan-Lodjic. I'm a mother of one fierce five year old girl, the wife to a tall, redheaded chef, a dog mom to Brodie Brewster, the seven year old fawn-colored pug, a wannabe writer, a full time executive assistant and newsletter editor for a financial news network based in St. Petersburg, Florida and a graduate of the University of Oregon with a bachelor of arts in Magazine Journalism.
I'm really short, but what I lack in size I make up for in loudness and sass. I'm also a lot for people to deal with and recently found out I'm an introvert and extrovert all at once. I'm kind of a mess but I kinda love that about myself. Anyway, I found an every day blog post challenge and I'm taking it. Why? To bore you all. Well, more-so, to write and get back to myself and a little bit to see if I can get some readers to relate!
I feel like we live in a social media society where measurements of accomplishments and happiness are based on likes, emojis and activity on various apps. While I love the ability to check out wedding and baby photos, first day of school and vacation pictures, I think social media also preys on our anxieties and insecurities. As some of my friends and readers know, I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety in my college years. I have gotten very mixed responses in my sharing of these issues and how they weigh on me as I am unable to take any medicines to aid them because of a family history of drug abuse.
Some friends have said, "Hey, look at you doing all the things to manage them, you're kicking ass!" This sparked meaningful, deep conversations about their inner struggles, their finding balance with or without medication, what worked for them and made my heart calm and at peace because I had bridged a personally insecure gap and found more common ground with someone. Some friends have urged me not to post about these things and feel my honesty about my depression and anxiety and their effects on my life could adversely come back to me later.
My intent with all my writing is this: If ONE reader, If one PERSON, reads my blog and RELATES, in ANY way, I've reached someone and therefore reached my goal. I'm admittedly a bad reader, considering I'm an aspiring writer. I don't read as much as I should, but when I read a post from a blog or book or article, or a silly meme or Facebook post, even an Instagram update that makes me feel less "in it," in this high-functioning world; when I relate to another human and have a humbling, peaceful moment, it makes up for all those anxieties that bombard my mind and soul.
During this challenge you might learn things about me that you don't like. You might as yourself, "Why am I reading this crap?" Maybe this whole challenge is a selfish thing for me after all, but it's nice to change it up and do some kind of new version of self care. If any of you are like me, you put yourself below last. You don't even slow down and eat dinner until the trash is out, or you forget to take even 15 minutes to yourself, because you're so wrapped up in everything else. This challenge will be for us all then. Maybe your challenge is just to read it from time to time.
So let me thank my readers in advance because you're taking the time to read after I took the time to write. Maybe I'll get it "write" this time!
Feedback is welcome and check back tomorrow. It's on!
My name is Alison Chriss, formerly Alison Egan-Lodjic. I'm a mother of one fierce five year old girl, the wife to a tall, redheaded chef, a dog mom to Brodie Brewster, the seven year old fawn-colored pug, a wannabe writer, a full time executive assistant and newsletter editor for a financial news network based in St. Petersburg, Florida and a graduate of the University of Oregon with a bachelor of arts in Magazine Journalism.
I'm really short, but what I lack in size I make up for in loudness and sass. I'm also a lot for people to deal with and recently found out I'm an introvert and extrovert all at once. I'm kind of a mess but I kinda love that about myself. Anyway, I found an every day blog post challenge and I'm taking it. Why? To bore you all. Well, more-so, to write and get back to myself and a little bit to see if I can get some readers to relate!
I feel like we live in a social media society where measurements of accomplishments and happiness are based on likes, emojis and activity on various apps. While I love the ability to check out wedding and baby photos, first day of school and vacation pictures, I think social media also preys on our anxieties and insecurities. As some of my friends and readers know, I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety in my college years. I have gotten very mixed responses in my sharing of these issues and how they weigh on me as I am unable to take any medicines to aid them because of a family history of drug abuse.
Some friends have said, "Hey, look at you doing all the things to manage them, you're kicking ass!" This sparked meaningful, deep conversations about their inner struggles, their finding balance with or without medication, what worked for them and made my heart calm and at peace because I had bridged a personally insecure gap and found more common ground with someone. Some friends have urged me not to post about these things and feel my honesty about my depression and anxiety and their effects on my life could adversely come back to me later.
My intent with all my writing is this: If ONE reader, If one PERSON, reads my blog and RELATES, in ANY way, I've reached someone and therefore reached my goal. I'm admittedly a bad reader, considering I'm an aspiring writer. I don't read as much as I should, but when I read a post from a blog or book or article, or a silly meme or Facebook post, even an Instagram update that makes me feel less "in it," in this high-functioning world; when I relate to another human and have a humbling, peaceful moment, it makes up for all those anxieties that bombard my mind and soul.
During this challenge you might learn things about me that you don't like. You might as yourself, "Why am I reading this crap?" Maybe this whole challenge is a selfish thing for me after all, but it's nice to change it up and do some kind of new version of self care. If any of you are like me, you put yourself below last. You don't even slow down and eat dinner until the trash is out, or you forget to take even 15 minutes to yourself, because you're so wrapped up in everything else. This challenge will be for us all then. Maybe your challenge is just to read it from time to time.
So let me thank my readers in advance because you're taking the time to read after I took the time to write. Maybe I'll get it "write" this time!
Feedback is welcome and check back tomorrow. It's on!
Monday, March 19, 2018
The Struggling Post
The name for this post came so naturally, although coined from someone else, but now I look at it and laugh because the pun-intended side of me reads it like a sign post or tree post that is struggling. I just had to get that out there. Okay, now back to the real deal. Not sure the best beginning.
Social media is a mixed bag. It can help you stay connected or even reconnect, but for an anxious depressive like myself, it can produce a roller-coaster of results. The Rabbit-Hole effect can be intense. What I mean is, you may find yourself on a friend's page looking at cute kid pictures, to see a comment by a frenemy that leads you to their page, where you realize they are dating so and so, and that so and so got divorced or remarried or blah, blah, blah and after 30 minutes you wonder what you are doing with your life since your high school bully now has a yacht and you have late credit card bills! See? Anxiety + Social Media = WHAT!?
To quote Phoebe from Friends when referencing her thought process, "Yeah you don't want to get in here," pointing to her head. I've always referred to Facebook as a "time suck." You look at one thing and 4 clicks later you are reading an article about sloths or sweat shops in Malaysia, you look down and it's 30 minutes later than it was when you checked that one notification about a reaction to your status about a toddler meltdown.
I think I learned about the power of the post and the weight of my words within my first year in our brave new world. Up until I was 24, I was a full time Nanny. When we moved here I had to get my first job in the regular work force born out of, "I need to pay my bills and stuff." My first job at a medical apparel store taught me that much older women tend to hate much younger woman, even if they are the boss and you are just the employee. It also proved that my taking the initiative to be efficient added with my smart ass cynicism only resulted in more disdain.
I remember one frustrating day I kept making unnecessary mistakes and audibly to myself I said "Man, if it's not one thing it's another today." I was then confronted about talking back to my boss, who was a full room away when I said this and I wasn't even speaking to her. Eye roll, my big mouth.
I'm best defined as a "Sasshole," one of my new, favorite meme-generated words. Social media for the win. A "Sasshole," is just as it sounds, a sassy asshole, and my picture may even be next to this in the slang dictionary. I was raised watching and memorizing The Princess Bride, which is the epitome of wit and sarcasm in satire, romance, and comedy, not to mention one of the greatest movies of all time. I do think before I speak but sometimes my snark and spice escape me. I'm that person who learned early that you didn't need to know how to physically fight, you could do far more damage with your words.
Years ago after completing some 15 months in my first and only restaurant job, and working with my husband no less, I moved onto greener pastures by getting a job at a Massage Envy. The restaurant perks were discounted meals and being closed on Sundays. The Massage Envy perks were free massages when meeting your sales quota and actually being allowed to sit.
After my two weeks notice and completion of shifts, I wrote and posted on this blog, a diatribe about my boss. At this time, my blog was so fresh I was pretty sure that my husband, a few close friends, the woman I nanny-ed for and maybe 2 other people actually read anything I wrote that wasn't a music piece for Creative Loafing. I also assumed that anyone who read my stuff, knew my personality enough to understand my tone throughout the piece, and where I was coming from.
Long story short, I had it out with this boss many times because I was no nonsense and very straightforward and serious about a job being done correctly, and tips and hours being allotted fairly and he informed me that my attitude and work ethic had gotten me the reputation of "Bitch."
This was not about my performance on the job. This was about my personality. I encouraged the 16-year-olds to not obsess about condiments in their Pandora bracelets, maybe don't wear those to work, and rather focus on doing a good job so we can all pool a good tip haul. Side note: Pooled tips are crap. I also referred to a very close friend of mine in a picture in which she was hiking the Appalachian Trail as looking "haggard," which apparently was mean. How dare I say someone braving the wilderness looked like she was tired from living off the land!
Regardless, we had a major personality clash as my point of view for my work was not to make friends but to do my job and pay my bills. I needed to coexist on a shift but not braid anyone's hair and go shopping with these girls in my free time. No way.
So when I wrote this "Young Alison Bitter Diatribe," I didn't foresee the boss' wife's sister reading it as some kind of scathing op-ed piece. This wasn't a time when you would Google the restaurant and my blog would come up to ruin their business. This was a vent session for me. We got called to their judgment table where I was then accused of being fake because I had helped babysit a few times and always sent thank you notes for any kindnesses or extra gifts, like a free meal, and I wrote something unfavorable about my boss being, for lack of a better work, a dick.
I'm an angry, frustrated crier. When I get infuriated my face gets lobster red and I just bawl because all of that emotion has nowhere to pour out of except my tear ducts. To me, being called out for being insensitive or finally living up to my "Bitch" labeling wasn't what made me mad. It was that anyone had a right to comment on my view of the events and why I wanted to share them. This was and is a live journal. You could read any of this and think whatever you would like of me, but did anyone ever stop and think, maybe it's not about you?
See with social media opinions are an epidemic. Although everyone is ALLOWED to have them. But much like what I've been reminded, not all of them need to be shared. And here is my argument on all of that. We live in a place where social media has amplified information access. You can find out who the 16th president was and also where your old friend from high school lives in the same few clicks.
People post about death, divorce, marriage, babies, accidents, new jobs, new homes, new hair cuts, new tattoos, EVERYTHING. What I'm wondering is why we single out a complaint, a rough patch, a bad day or a quick musing and get so defensive? I personally feel like when I read a struggling post, it makes me feel calm and more human. I enjoy complaints about the lines at Starbucks or someone cutting someone off on a busy road, as much as appreciate a post about an overdraft fee or a bounced paycheck, or buying two tickets to Paris! We are REAL HUMANS with emotions. Can we not share our feelings?
Maybe the problem is our audience. I have always said, "Know your audience." This has been big for me. I have always felt anxious when you're in a situation where a friend is complaining about let's say, the process of buying a brand new car, and you're car is falling apart and you can't afford the repairs or a new one. It's not that you can't be a sympathetic ear but that its rough for you to feel badly for them when you just had to beg your dad for money because you have $6.00 in your account for another 8 days.
Perhaps when my diatribe posted, the bosses thought it was more a commentary on how he ran his business, instead of how he treated me as a person and how I didn't want to continue to apologize for my personality. I am who I am, take it or leave it. And I have grown less and less apologetic.
Nearly a decade ago when I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety it was a hush hush thing. Now it is more mainstream and people are speaking out. This gives me comfort. Why? Because maybe in my posts complaining about a co-worker or bad day I was masking a panic attack or a bigger issue. Maybe when I post pictures of a therapeutic walk, it's not about parading a struggle of my mental battles but offering an idea on how to combat them. And what's so magical about the internet? You can positively affect someone random with something so simple!
It's a weird thing letting people in. It is something I struggle with daily. That vulnerability is intense. And on social media you let in anyone on your "friends" list and then almost globally open yourself up, especially if you spark a controversial view. After my group, couples and personal therapy and especially with having a fresh start, I stopped sugar coating things. That really happened for me with the restaurant job. When I spoke my mind and let my "freak flag fly," that was when I realized that I was angry because my job performance had nothing to do with my mental health stuff, but it did create personality clashes. I could get past those, but other people couldn't, apparently, but guess what? That's not MY problem.
After that I spent two years at Massage Envy making the best friends I could ask for, learning about massage and self caring like a boss. I had run-ins with certain people, but nothing real. It wasn't until entering motherhood that the social media storm of opinions took it's toll and I learned new coping mechanisms. I lost touch with writing for a long time while raising a baby. I got stuck in the rabbit holes and time suck to distract. But now I'm really working hard on myself and my family life and I'm not afraid to talk about it. And if you don't like it, CLICK AWAY. Unfollow, delete, block, look away, hide the post, "BYE FELICIA!"
The fact remains, LIFE IS HARD and I happen to like the struggling post. I need to feel human more often than not. So while it may make others uncomfortable, I say, "THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU!" Or, maybe it is in a way, and that is why it is controversial and upsetting warranting the suggestion not to do such things.
All I can say is this, in a world where we have a picture of any "perfect moment" literally in the palm of our hands at any given second, and a post for all to see, I am more grateful for the struggling post, even if it's not from me. You can filter out and post about life as you see it through your own personal lens, but I for one, enjoy knowing that others are human too and that I am not alone. Because some of my loneliest moments have been in a room full of people. And I think very much that social media can have the same effect: you have the facade of support and "following" but one "wrong" post and out of the woods they come with the torches. I personally like to see the light of the flames and feel comfort from the warmth; the struggling post will stand strong!
Social media is a mixed bag. It can help you stay connected or even reconnect, but for an anxious depressive like myself, it can produce a roller-coaster of results. The Rabbit-Hole effect can be intense. What I mean is, you may find yourself on a friend's page looking at cute kid pictures, to see a comment by a frenemy that leads you to their page, where you realize they are dating so and so, and that so and so got divorced or remarried or blah, blah, blah and after 30 minutes you wonder what you are doing with your life since your high school bully now has a yacht and you have late credit card bills! See? Anxiety + Social Media = WHAT!?
To quote Phoebe from Friends when referencing her thought process, "Yeah you don't want to get in here," pointing to her head. I've always referred to Facebook as a "time suck." You look at one thing and 4 clicks later you are reading an article about sloths or sweat shops in Malaysia, you look down and it's 30 minutes later than it was when you checked that one notification about a reaction to your status about a toddler meltdown.
I think I learned about the power of the post and the weight of my words within my first year in our brave new world. Up until I was 24, I was a full time Nanny. When we moved here I had to get my first job in the regular work force born out of, "I need to pay my bills and stuff." My first job at a medical apparel store taught me that much older women tend to hate much younger woman, even if they are the boss and you are just the employee. It also proved that my taking the initiative to be efficient added with my smart ass cynicism only resulted in more disdain.
I remember one frustrating day I kept making unnecessary mistakes and audibly to myself I said "Man, if it's not one thing it's another today." I was then confronted about talking back to my boss, who was a full room away when I said this and I wasn't even speaking to her. Eye roll, my big mouth.
I'm best defined as a "Sasshole," one of my new, favorite meme-generated words. Social media for the win. A "Sasshole," is just as it sounds, a sassy asshole, and my picture may even be next to this in the slang dictionary. I was raised watching and memorizing The Princess Bride, which is the epitome of wit and sarcasm in satire, romance, and comedy, not to mention one of the greatest movies of all time. I do think before I speak but sometimes my snark and spice escape me. I'm that person who learned early that you didn't need to know how to physically fight, you could do far more damage with your words.
Years ago after completing some 15 months in my first and only restaurant job, and working with my husband no less, I moved onto greener pastures by getting a job at a Massage Envy. The restaurant perks were discounted meals and being closed on Sundays. The Massage Envy perks were free massages when meeting your sales quota and actually being allowed to sit.
After my two weeks notice and completion of shifts, I wrote and posted on this blog, a diatribe about my boss. At this time, my blog was so fresh I was pretty sure that my husband, a few close friends, the woman I nanny-ed for and maybe 2 other people actually read anything I wrote that wasn't a music piece for Creative Loafing. I also assumed that anyone who read my stuff, knew my personality enough to understand my tone throughout the piece, and where I was coming from.
Long story short, I had it out with this boss many times because I was no nonsense and very straightforward and serious about a job being done correctly, and tips and hours being allotted fairly and he informed me that my attitude and work ethic had gotten me the reputation of "Bitch."
This was not about my performance on the job. This was about my personality. I encouraged the 16-year-olds to not obsess about condiments in their Pandora bracelets, maybe don't wear those to work, and rather focus on doing a good job so we can all pool a good tip haul. Side note: Pooled tips are crap. I also referred to a very close friend of mine in a picture in which she was hiking the Appalachian Trail as looking "haggard," which apparently was mean. How dare I say someone braving the wilderness looked like she was tired from living off the land!
Regardless, we had a major personality clash as my point of view for my work was not to make friends but to do my job and pay my bills. I needed to coexist on a shift but not braid anyone's hair and go shopping with these girls in my free time. No way.
So when I wrote this "Young Alison Bitter Diatribe," I didn't foresee the boss' wife's sister reading it as some kind of scathing op-ed piece. This wasn't a time when you would Google the restaurant and my blog would come up to ruin their business. This was a vent session for me. We got called to their judgment table where I was then accused of being fake because I had helped babysit a few times and always sent thank you notes for any kindnesses or extra gifts, like a free meal, and I wrote something unfavorable about my boss being, for lack of a better work, a dick.
I'm an angry, frustrated crier. When I get infuriated my face gets lobster red and I just bawl because all of that emotion has nowhere to pour out of except my tear ducts. To me, being called out for being insensitive or finally living up to my "Bitch" labeling wasn't what made me mad. It was that anyone had a right to comment on my view of the events and why I wanted to share them. This was and is a live journal. You could read any of this and think whatever you would like of me, but did anyone ever stop and think, maybe it's not about you?
See with social media opinions are an epidemic. Although everyone is ALLOWED to have them. But much like what I've been reminded, not all of them need to be shared. And here is my argument on all of that. We live in a place where social media has amplified information access. You can find out who the 16th president was and also where your old friend from high school lives in the same few clicks.
People post about death, divorce, marriage, babies, accidents, new jobs, new homes, new hair cuts, new tattoos, EVERYTHING. What I'm wondering is why we single out a complaint, a rough patch, a bad day or a quick musing and get so defensive? I personally feel like when I read a struggling post, it makes me feel calm and more human. I enjoy complaints about the lines at Starbucks or someone cutting someone off on a busy road, as much as appreciate a post about an overdraft fee or a bounced paycheck, or buying two tickets to Paris! We are REAL HUMANS with emotions. Can we not share our feelings?
Maybe the problem is our audience. I have always said, "Know your audience." This has been big for me. I have always felt anxious when you're in a situation where a friend is complaining about let's say, the process of buying a brand new car, and you're car is falling apart and you can't afford the repairs or a new one. It's not that you can't be a sympathetic ear but that its rough for you to feel badly for them when you just had to beg your dad for money because you have $6.00 in your account for another 8 days.
Perhaps when my diatribe posted, the bosses thought it was more a commentary on how he ran his business, instead of how he treated me as a person and how I didn't want to continue to apologize for my personality. I am who I am, take it or leave it. And I have grown less and less apologetic.
Nearly a decade ago when I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety it was a hush hush thing. Now it is more mainstream and people are speaking out. This gives me comfort. Why? Because maybe in my posts complaining about a co-worker or bad day I was masking a panic attack or a bigger issue. Maybe when I post pictures of a therapeutic walk, it's not about parading a struggle of my mental battles but offering an idea on how to combat them. And what's so magical about the internet? You can positively affect someone random with something so simple!
It's a weird thing letting people in. It is something I struggle with daily. That vulnerability is intense. And on social media you let in anyone on your "friends" list and then almost globally open yourself up, especially if you spark a controversial view. After my group, couples and personal therapy and especially with having a fresh start, I stopped sugar coating things. That really happened for me with the restaurant job. When I spoke my mind and let my "freak flag fly," that was when I realized that I was angry because my job performance had nothing to do with my mental health stuff, but it did create personality clashes. I could get past those, but other people couldn't, apparently, but guess what? That's not MY problem.
After that I spent two years at Massage Envy making the best friends I could ask for, learning about massage and self caring like a boss. I had run-ins with certain people, but nothing real. It wasn't until entering motherhood that the social media storm of opinions took it's toll and I learned new coping mechanisms. I lost touch with writing for a long time while raising a baby. I got stuck in the rabbit holes and time suck to distract. But now I'm really working hard on myself and my family life and I'm not afraid to talk about it. And if you don't like it, CLICK AWAY. Unfollow, delete, block, look away, hide the post, "BYE FELICIA!"
The fact remains, LIFE IS HARD and I happen to like the struggling post. I need to feel human more often than not. So while it may make others uncomfortable, I say, "THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU!" Or, maybe it is in a way, and that is why it is controversial and upsetting warranting the suggestion not to do such things.
All I can say is this, in a world where we have a picture of any "perfect moment" literally in the palm of our hands at any given second, and a post for all to see, I am more grateful for the struggling post, even if it's not from me. You can filter out and post about life as you see it through your own personal lens, but I for one, enjoy knowing that others are human too and that I am not alone. Because some of my loneliest moments have been in a room full of people. And I think very much that social media can have the same effect: you have the facade of support and "following" but one "wrong" post and out of the woods they come with the torches. I personally like to see the light of the flames and feel comfort from the warmth; the struggling post will stand strong!
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