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!
Monday, August 27, 2018
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.
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