Something Great

I watched WWE as a kid & still dig the camp factor. My daughters love it though, are very invested in the storylines & I’ll have to keep my two eldest in neutral corners as their faves AJ Lee & Paige compete for the Divas title tonight @ the Summerslam PPV event (yes, they are well aware it isn’t real, it’s all scripted & they’re all friends in real life, but you can get hurt if you try it. My middle daughter will tell you this is the best cartoon on TV & Daniel Bryan is everything).

However, I often complain at the lack of proper representation for their female characters. The Divas (until recently) were one note characters, either kind of trashy or innocent ingenue & their only storylines were bad girl wants good girl’s Divas title or is jealous of good girl. The only exceptions were the long & storied feud of Trish Stratus & Lita & the mean girls style antics of Laycool (Michelle McCool & Layla El). As a parent of daughters , it bugged me that there were no characters they could really get behind or rally around. Well, it’s as if Stephanie McMahon (the company’s principal owner & mom of three daughters) heard every mom’s concerns & did something about it.

The women have complex characters now. Divas Champion AJ Lee went from one note man eater jealous of the girls from the reality show Total Divas (on the E! Network) to complicated heroine struggling to keep her composure after an onslaught of machinations created by her “friend”. Newcomer Paige is a sweet young girl…or a master manipulator. The Bella Twins went from wooden bad girls to heroines protecting each other & their family (namely Brie’s real life & legitimately injured husband Daniel Bryan) from the aforementioned McMahon. Nikki put up with unfair advantage week after week believing that she could overcome & Brie, having had enough, challenged McMahon to stand up for her family & Brie vs. Stephanie is going to headline tonight’s PPV.

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That’s right: the main event is two women! Something unheard of in the sexist & misongynistic world of wrestling. Women are normally relegated to less than 10 minutes & put in the spot known as the “death slot,” so you can get nachos before John Cena appears. My daughters were heartbroken @ Wrestlemania XXXI when they waited all night for the first Divas title match in the history of the event, only to see there were no entrances (save for AJ Lee) & their match was shorter than the time it took for the Undertaker to walk to the ring. The Divas disappear from TV for weeks while little girls sadly hope for a glimpse of Brie or Nikki & last year, a Divas t-shirt was a mythological thing. If little girls wanted something to represent their idols, they had to make it themselves.

But not anymore.

Seven women have merch for little girls to buy. There are two women’s matches a night. TWO. The women have actual storylines & Brie Bella, who’s match was famously pulled off a PPV to make room for Machine Gun Kelly to play John Cena to the ring is considered more important than the men. My daughters pleaded for their Bella shirts & I relented (& got one too) & they are excited for tonight like it’s Super Bowl Sunday with their Fearless Nikki & Brie Mode shirts. They’ve counted down the days for Bellaslam as they call it & tonight, they all get to stay up late to see if their beloved Brie can defeat the evil Stephanie McMahon.

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While to those who don’t watch, it doesn’t seem like a big deal; it’s just a campy, stupid TV show designed for rednecks & children, but to every girl who was told that they only watched wrestling for the hot guys or for the soap opera like atmosphere, this is our moment. For once, the girls we cheered for aren’t being marginalized in a dumbed down storyline that makes women look like shrews or like they only care about pleasing men or like women secretly hate each other & it’s all about jealousy. This is the equivalent of A Disney Princess grabbing the sword from Prince Charming & saving herself, or the Cubs going to the World Series. Fans waited so long & gave up hope that the day would ever come. Suddenly, for every little girl who aspires to be a Diva (including my 13 year old daughter), the main event, the star of the show, is an option. It’s attainable & kudos to WWE for realizing that girls can kick ass, girls do have feelings, & girls can star the show & people WILL care about them. Between this & the successful reality show Total Divas, it’s like WWE finally gets what they seemed to have forgotten since Trish Stratus & Lita retired; women are people; strong, resilient, confident, brave & emotional people & not just objects for men to ogle.

Now, I’m well aware that WWE will likely screw this up & break up the Bella Twins or something & turn this into a one note jealous sister storyline & remind me why they are sexist & can’t write for women, but right now I’m feeling very girl power for them & for my own kids, who get to ask to stay up without saying “if they don’t get cut” or “it’ll only be five more minutes,” because for the first time ever, the Divas are the star of the show.

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Happiness

I’ve been seeing a lot of people on my Facebook news feed with “100 Days of Happiness” (one friend went all out & decided to do 365!). I didn’t do it because I annoy enough people with my blog pluggery & Fitspo posts. But I love the idea of someone taking 100 days to remind them why life is beautiful. My friend the Psych Major said I remind her of Uni-Kitty from the Lego Movie because I’m always upbeat & positive & oh so happy! It’s not a state of mind; it’s a choice I make every second of my life to be happy, even when the world is a shit show. I do this because more gets accomplished when you’re happy than when you give into the shit show.

Anywho, with that being said, I’m going to post a list of 100 things that make me happy.

***Before someone points it out in some snide comment; my daughters, friends & cats are not things. They are people***

1. My bliggity bloggity. I need to write to feel happiness. I write more when I’m unhappy or stressed as writing is pretty much my everything. But it’s the only way I know how to express myself properly. So, my blog makes me happy as creating ideas makes me happy.
2. Birthday Cake Donuts. I have to run 5k every day to earn the bastards, but they’re so good. Mmmmm.
3. Yoga.
4. My house. I’ll love it more once I paint it.
5. I’m taking the Overlord to see her first IMAX movie on Sunday. She’s going to face her fear of loud noises to see Guardians of the Galaxy. I’m excited for her.
6. The fact that my manager doesn’t object to the amount of casual swearing I do at work.
7. Listening to the Fray in sweater weather.
8. My phone’s autocorrect because it’s funny as Hell.
9. My Ed Sheeran tickets & no, I still won’t sell them to my manager.
10. Getting to play with the new cell phones at work.
11. Pop culture as I’ll be making my livings thanks to celebrity obsession again.
12. Seth Rollins because he is really hot. Celebrity crush FTW.

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13. My hair is finally a colour. Well, two colours. But I don’t need colour correction anymore. Yay! (Check it out in the About Me section)
14. I saw Queen two weeks ago & it was the best concert ever.
15. The song “Explosions” by Ellie Goulding because I swear it sounds like it was ripped out of my journal. I would like royalties Ellie, because you stole my thoughts.
16. Every single thing Taylor Swift does and says. Always.
17. Red freezies. The superior freezie.
18. I have finally mastered winged eyeliner so I no longer resemble a panda in public.

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19. My one on one dates with my girls. I love that I’ve mastered time management enough to give them the attention they need while working to support us.
20. Pikachu
21. Oscar Wilde
22. The fact that Trish Stratus & the Imagine Dragons follow me on Twitter
23. My neighbour. He’s rad.

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24. Somersby. I don’t drink often but when I do, that’s it.
25. Katy Perry. The sometimes angry teen is so excited about our trip to see her.
26. The fact that my 4yo daughter is perfectly capable of saying l’s & r’s but chooses not to because she thinks it’ll get her out of stuff.
27. Reese’s peanut butter everything
28. Clouds that look like stuff
29. Pancakes. All the time. Everyday
30. Post exercise soreness. That means I did it right.
31. My 7yo’s determination to grow her hair as long as Rapunzel’s.
32. My amazing box of stuff.
33. Adam Levine.

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34. An old, beat up copy of Julius Caesar I bought for someone & never got to give to them. Now it’s mine & I like to keep it around to inspire me to achieve my goals. Something something One Tree Hill. ( I watched the show once. It sucked. But I do love the show’s version of “When the Stars Go Blue” better than the Corrs version I heard originally).
35. The song Timber. Suck it, it’s good.
36. Chicken wings from a Windsor pub called Hurricane’s. There are none better.
37. Terrible movies. Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus is a fantastic one. I’ve been told Sharknado is worse. I may need to check it out.
38. The number of times that I will stare at my phone after I’ve unlocked it with the fingerprint sensor as if I expect it to continue to do stuff.
39. Skipping in lieu of walking. It’s more fun to skip. Try it, it’s really fun.
40. Stars. I have a really deep & intense reasoning but I’ll save that for later. But I love them more than life, have four tattooed on my wrist & want a crap ton more.
41. My tattoos. I’m proud of them & can’t wait for the next one.
42. People who quote the Simpsons in their everyday speech.
43. Brown eyes. They’re sexy.
44. The book Flowers in the Attic. It’s so bad it’s good.
45. The colour electric blue.
46. Disney movies
47. Pixar
48. Cat gifs.
49. The number of people who pick up my mannerisms. It makes me feel influential.
50. Old people celebrating their 40th or more wedding anniversary.
51. The fact that years later, people still choose my parents’ wedding song for their first dance @ their own wedding.
52. Jillian Michaels. She’s so great.
53. Any story the Psych Major tells me about her son.
54. Everything about my future.
55. My friend’s new writing project that I may be a part of.
56. The creek in front of my condo
57. Cilantro, only because the Overlord will always correctly identify when the dishes on the cooking shows need it.
58. All of the dishes I’ve created with Red Bull as an ingredient.
59. Red Bull.
60. My iPhone.
61. Soccer hooligans.
62. Skateboarders that fall down.
63. Slapstick comedies
64. Unicorns. Shut up, they’re amazing & you’re wrong to suggest otherwise.
65. The genius who thought to put cookie dough in ice cream. My hat’s off to you sir.
66. My teen daughter’s obsession with the DIY network.
67. The knowledge that I do not have a Pinterest & have no desire to get one.
68. Sitting down after my shift.
69. The knowledge that I’m immature enough to laugh hysterically right now.
70. The fact that I’m in my 30’s & I still don’t get dirty jokes.
71. The fact that my 4yo asked for “All the Things” for her birthday.
72. Lumpy Space Princess
73. Archer. It’s so funny.
74. Moustaches
75. Pickles
76. Stuffing things into cookies (ie s’more stuffed cookies)
77. Pictures of Yorkies dressed up as Harry Potter
78. Cats with people names
79. My dimmer light switch for my chandelier
80. My Instagram account
81. My fireplace
82. Any time my friend Amanda throws a fit & demands chocolate like she’s a small child
83. Sleeping
84. Squats
85. Camping
86. People who say they like my writing.
87. Laughing until I cry
88. Dressing up my cat Peachy for Halloween
89. Football, but only The New Orleans Saints & only when my 4yo explains the rules.
90. The knowledge that I’m going to enter a fantasy football league, let my preschooler draft all of our players & when we win, tell the wannabe jocks that they lost to a child in kindergarten.
91. Hockey.
92. My Little Pony
93. Texting The Texan screencaps of morons who message me on online dating.
94. Maroon 5’s new album V
95. The Fault in our Stars. If you read it & didn’t bawl, you have no soul.
96. Punny puns.
97. The alarms I set to remind me to exercise.
98. My teen daughter’s exaggerations.
99. Toblerone.
100. French bulldogs.

That’s my list! I hope you got a good laugh & maybe some of these make you happy too! But the joy of life is that stupid little things can make you happy every single day, even this list.

Paper Heart

This weekend I had the chance to attend a good friend’s wedding and it was a lovely affair.

I’m not really big on weddings, as I’ve said many times before, but this wedding was different. My dear friend Sarah had waited a long time for a guy like her darling Nic. She’d been through Hell and back, as she said in her wedding speech, and with him, she felt whole.

Congrats to Mr. and Mrs U!

Congrats to Mr. and Mrs U!

As the single girlfriend attending stag, I think I was supposed to be super jealous or something. I always read blogs from single women who whine that it’s not fair that they don’t have a plus one and I knew a girl who whined when anything good happened to a friend, especially a pregnancy, because it wasn’t about her. But I really wasn’t. I couldn’t wait for this wedding…and I hate weddings! Sarah deserved this day. She is a person who gives to others, who loves completely, and watching her find her other half made my heart burst with joy. We laughed, danced, drank, toasted the couple and chatted animatedly with my best friend the Psych Major as we talked about a project that could really take my career to another level. It was arguably the most wonderful day I’ve enjoyed in a long time and I thank them for their hospitality.

The Psych Major and I standing with the gorgeous bride.

The Psych Major and I standing with the gorgeous bride.

As lovely as Sarah looked, there was one moment that stood out for me and I was lucky enough to snap a pic of it. As Nic danced with his mom, Sarah looked on, watching her new husband and her face radiated so much love. It wasn’t just love; it was respect, admiration, adoration, every positive emotion you can possibly feel. In that moment, there were flashes snapping, happy chatter, but for Sarah, there was nothing else going on in that room but her husband and he was the most beautiful thing in the world. I actually teared up seeing her looking at her husband, because it was just such a lovely moment in time. I once saw a photo of a couple on FB and saw that same look and it inspired a whole other blog post of mine (the one that I am most proud of) because it was just such a beautiful photo.

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I think everyone wants to feel like Nic and Sarah, two people who have finally found each other and know that even if things get rough, they have each other. There aren’t a lot of people in this world who I think are in it for the long haul, but they are. I’m so grateful to them for reminding me that happy endings are real and I’m lucky to have watched them start their lives together. Sometimes, when we’ve had our hearts broken a bunch of times, we get cynical and it’s hard to picture that there could be a happy ending. But, we need to remain optimistic and hopeful and continue to be ourselves so that when it becomes our turn, we get to be the person looking at our partner with so much love. If there is anything I could wish for everyone I love, or anything I could hope everyone I love gets in their lives, even for a moment before we as humans eff it all up, is to have that moment where someone loves you like my friends love each other and for someone looks at them the way Sarah looks at Nic. Everyone deserves to have that kind of love even once, that unconditional, I don’t care who you are and what you did before me, because you are the very best thing that’s ever happened to me kind of love and I won’t lie, I tell my friends I don’t date because I’m holding out for that Nic and Sarah kind of love. I think we should all hold out for that kind of love and if we’ve found it, we should cherish it and enjoy it for as long as we live.

So, single gals & guys, instead of being jealous that we don’t have that plus one or that maybe it feels like our time to find our soulmate is over, take a moment to really watch the happy couple, because I promise all of those jealous pangs will go away (well, it depends on the couple. I’ve been to a couple of weddings where I didn’t think they’d last two years). They’ll go away because you’ll get a chance to see love in it’s purest form and you can rest comforted in the knowledge that your time will come in the right moment in the right way, even if right now it seems like it’s never going to happen or you blew that one chance with your soulmate. Because maybe that wasn’t your soulmate, maybe you haven’t met them. Or maybe you both needed to grow up and fate will put it back when the time is right (I doubt it, but hey, Nicholas Sparks has made a fortune on that theory). Or maybe it’s that friend you’ve never looked at like that, or that message in your online dating inbox that you’ve never bothered to read. One place you won’t find it? THE BACHELORETTE. But no one deserves less than that Nic and Sarah kind of love and you’ll know you have it when what’s hard seems easy and when you know they look at you like you are the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen.

It Takes Two

My friend recently posted this to her FB page & it got me thinking (because I am a weirdo who analyzes memes);

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As the poster child for “taking too long to heal from a bad relationship,” this made me sad. So, I sent her this text;

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The reality I learned is humans choose to make themselves happy or miserable. We choose who we become & no amount of bad relationships can “turn” us into anything. I chose to be miserable & believe my former friend’s lies that it’ll all work out it I wait. I chose to mourn for the life I thought I wanted. I chose to ignore the fact that he is too closed off emotionally to give that life to me & I needed to heal from my emotionally abusive marriage to be in any position to build a life; I just missed the idea of what I thought we were building. That’s what we miss when a relationship ends; the idea of the life we were supposed to have, because we never really have it. If I had that life, we would have talked about our feelings instead of me hiding my concerns because he’d leave me. I shouldn’t have had to be afraid he’d leave if I breathed wrong or asked for my feelings to be validated or to be made a priority. If that life had been real, I would have felt safe & happy. I thought I did, but now I realize I didn’t, because I was so afraid he’d leave, because he did, all the time. What I missed wasn’t real & what made my friend feel like the graphic wasn’t real. She’s too sweet to ever do it, but if she becomes a bitch, it’s her choice, just like I chose to be miserable. I made that choice & then I un made it. I decided, much like when I mourned my marriage, that I wouldn’t mourn a life that wasn’t real. I mourned this family that wasn’t real. Reality was an emotionally defeated mom, and three little girls who were afraid of their angry father. I needed to focus on why I make bad choices, which is that I choose broken men. I choose them because I want to make them happy so I can feel happy knowing I bring someone joy. I do this because I was unhappy with my weight, my lack of byline, my insecurities about who I am. If I make these broken men happy, then I’m doing something right so I have value. So, I choose to bring myself joy, give myself value & then I won’t need to choose broken men & keep up that cycle. The only reason the cycle in the graphic exists is because we allow it. When my teen daughter mentioned the emotionally abusive relationship of Damon & Elena on The Vampire Diaries was romantic, I had to think about what I had been teaching her. I had been teaching her that women in love allow men hurt & manipulate them & it’s their fault for not loving them enough. I don’t want my daughter in that cycle, so I had to break it, for myself, for my daughters. Again, that’s a choice I’m making for us, to teach them what a healthy relationship is.

No one can “make” you a bitch or an asshole. You chose that. You chose to crush the heart of that person that loved you. You chose to let someone crush it. You made those choices & you chose to dwell & let it warp you. Why choose to destroy joy? I was destroying my own joy & for what? Nothing. So, I choose joy. I choose my happily ever after. It’s right now, in this moment. I’ll fix what makes me feel weak & make myself happy, because then no one can rip it away. But in the moment it’s hard to see that reality & seeing my friend’s pain (albeit in snippets with her talking about binge eating, etc.) made me realize something I didn’t for a long time. I understand why my ex-BFF lied for so long. I was crippled emotionally by the on & off, the intense togethers & sudden splits & the consistent rejections that I couldn’t think. I went to school & raised my kids but my friend saw me broken, so very broken. He just wanted to make the pain go away. Hearing her pain made me want to do the same thing. But we have to choose the path of reality & allowing someone time to figure out what they miss isn’t real & the real happy ending is around the corner is much kinder in the long run.

My friend is an amazing & strong woman, mother, performer & friend. She will choose joy & meet her match & live a beautiful life. Even if she doesn’t, she’ll live a beautiful life with her son. Because happy is a choice, not a situation.

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I Almost Do

I don’t mind being single. I don’t mind living alone. In fact, I revel in it.

I’m kind of hermit like, and as I told my friend Steph, it’s because I have very little to contribute. People I know live exciting lives; I do a lot of yoga & sit-ups. That’s my life in a nutshell; work, raise family, yoga, run 5k, sit-ups. I find it rewarding, but I know that it’s really boring. Only the Psych Major, her husband & my friend Sarah love sit-ups as much as I do. But I revel in my boringness (I don’t think that’s a word). I love that I do whatever I want. I’m a starfish in bed, I hog it so well even the Pirate Princess (the champion bed hog) would be proud. When I decided to lighten my hair to it’s current light brown & blonde ombré, I didn’t ask for an opinion; I just did it. I pick the movie, & I really don’t care when I hog the couch blanket. I’ve only been making my own decisions for a year, so it still amuses me. I actually enjoy living alone more than I should. I’ve even given up on ever seeing a dime in child support (thanks to our flawed system in Canadaland) or that I’ll ever have an effective co-parenting relationship with the dad. I’ve accepted that I’m doing this life thing by myself & my girls & I aren’t just surviving; we’re thriving & I’m living as an example for them. I’m getting pretty good @ it too. Between meal planning & a schedule, my house is clean, my kids are eating healthy all of the time & most of the time, I’ve got life under control.

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But, I will admit, the latest development in my life makes me wish I didn’t live two hours away from everyone I know & love (one hour from my Sarnia peeps). Because I am actually a moron, I forgot I had two wisdom teeth. I forgot for YEARS, mostly because I had no benefits & couldn’t afford to have them removed. I had the other two pulled years earlier when one got impacted. Well, one of these bastards decided to remind me that they exist by shattering in my gum & getting infected. My face looks really fat & it hurts like a mother effer. But I’ll have surgery & be back to work the next day. Why? Because I can’t afford the time off. Being a sole support parent means sacrifice. But you do what you gotta do.

I won’t lie; I wouldn’t mind a supportive hand to hold to tell me the dentist isn’t scary & an offer to make me soup. I wish I had someone to watch the girls so I didn’t have to condense the teen’s slumber party. I just don’t want to do another sucky thing alone. I get that this is part of independence, but sometimes it’d be nice to have an ally. I know if I still lived in Windsor, I would have friends right there to be a help, but when one moves hours away, you don’t have these things. I guess maybe this broken tooth is helping me realize that while I can do everything on my own; maybe I don’t particularly want to all of the time & that’s okay.

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Not wanting to live forever me against the world doesn’t make me weak; it makes me human. I think I’ve held onto to this belief that I need to be completely independent to prove some kind of point, but maybe I don’t need to prove it anymore. Maybe it’s time I let people help when they offer it. Maybe it’s okay to let people offer comfort, be a friend. Maybe it’s okay to want a partner in life someday. Or maybe I’m whacked out on painkillers & rambling. That’s entirely possible & maybe, that’s okay too.

Hey Brother

Much like everyone else, I was instantly mesmerized with the beautiful story of Ryland Whittington, who’s parents made the brave choice to accept their child for who he is, transgender. Ryland (now seven) often lashed out, saying he hated himself & someday when his family died, he would live as a boy the way he was supposed to. His parents Jeff & Hillary consulted doctors & therapists, who all came to the same conclusion; Ryland was exhibiting feelings of a transgendered male who wanted acceptance. So they did. Their video explaining to friends & family that Ryland would now use male pronouns & live as a male went viral & they received the Inspiration Award at the Harvey Milk Diversity Breakfast.

However, instead of celebrating this family & their demonstration of unconditional love in a time when so many children talk of coming out to find their parents do not accept them, many bloggers & commenters claimed that these parents were actually abusing their son (before I get hatred, I want to remind you that Ryland identifies as male, so I will refer to him as the Whittington’s son).

Wait, what?

Self proclaimed “Speaker of absolute truths,” Matt Walsh claims that Ryland is too young to understand something as huge as gender & he’s confused & his parents shouldn’t have allowed it. Fox News correspondent Keith Ablow said Ryland should have been prescribed anti-psychotic medication. Both of these men stated clearly that Ryland was too young to understand what being a boy was, despite the American Association of Pediatrics saying gender identity is determined at four (Ryland was five when he began his transition).

When I pointed this out in the comment section of Walsh’s blog, along with the fact that he is not a doctor and has never met Ryland. Many of his commenters replied that doctors don’t really know anything so they were unqualified, but Walsh speaks truth. One caught my eye & inspired this post, so thank you commenter, whom I’ll call “Bigoted Psycho (or BP for short).

BP mentioned that doctors don’t know anything. She was diagnosed as bipolar, then with General Anxiety Disorder. But she knew her body & that these weren’t working & found other, natural methods to curb her anxiety & now she’s happy.

Wait, so what BP was saying is by understanding the feelings in her body, she was able to effectively convey them to a medical professional who was able to diagnose her & help her feel okay? So, when Ryland Whittington told his family he felt his body was wrong & he didn’t feel right & needed help, he was able to convey that & feel okay?

No, BP says. Ryland is a child. She was a teenager. It’s TOTALLY different. Oh, okay.

I don’t know the Whittington’s. I am not a doctor. I am not even very smart most days. But I am a parent. I love my girls more than life & I want them to be happy. I want them to know that I’ll love them if they’re LGBT, or straight, if they go to college & become doctors or if they work @ Burger King for life. I also want them to know if they feel something isn’t right, that I’ll be there for them. Whether their stomach is upset or they feel like they’re in the wrong body & they hate themselves. I want them to know that I will understand & accept them. I am their mother & it’s my job to give them the safe haven from cruel people like Matt Walsh, or BP, or the bully down the road & that they can tell me ANYTHING & I’ll help them any way I can. The Whittington’s obviously felt the same way & I have nothing but respect for them.

It’s okay not to understand what it means to be transgendered. I don’t 100% understand. But I’m learning so if I meet a trans person I can get to know them on a human level & not ask a million intrusive questions (I’m a journalist; we ask a lot of questions). But it’s not okay to tell them how they feel about what’s going on in their body is wrong. It’s not okay to tell them it’s a phase. It’s not okay to call them “it” or say they’re confused & this magic pill will fix it. It’s not okay to say that to any LGBT kid. If you don’t understand, then take the time to learn. Try to see things from their POV. I bet we’d be burying fewer LGBT kids who took their own lives if we did. And if you can’t understand, STFU. There’s lots of things I don’t agree with in the world but I’ve learned that, despite Matt Walsh’s claims, there is no absolute truth other than we are all born & we all die. Everything else is a big gray area. So, instead of judging the gray that you don’t like, focus on your own gray.

This Is How We Roll

Because I don’t have time to meet people in the city (or ever), I have an online dating account.

I’ve had it for about six months now and I’m not going to lie; I never log into it except to reply to messages. My friend & I actually compete to see who can issue the funniest comeback to the biggest creeper. The fact that some of these guys think that these are the best first impressions crack me up. I’m sure if I talked to someone who seemed cool, I might change my mind, but I’ve learned that “Plenty of Fish” really means “Bottom of the Barrel.”

I have learned what I already knew, which was that the online thing likely doesn’t work for me, but it does provide me with countless minutes of entertainment, as well as my FB friends, as I often screencap the best ones and post them on my account. So, for your entertainment, I shall post some of the best ones, so you may also ask why any of these men thought these lines were a good idea.

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48 To Go

As I continue to work towards my fitness goals (down 40.5lbs), I’m learning how much money I waste on…well, crap food.

A little progression pic. See my 40lbs loss...and my various phones.

A little progression pic. See my 40lbs loss…and my various phones.

Between my Tim Horton’s Tea and my Starbucks chai tea and my restaurant lunches on paydays, I’m not eating as well as I should be, especially if I want to lose the last of the weight. I’m over halfway to my goal and I’ve dropped two sizes and plan to drop two more, as well as get stronger. Eating that crap is not going to help me. Not to mention it’s pricey and with summer coming, I want to be able to take the girls on a much needed and well earned family vacay to the zoo, as the overlord has been waiting since she was two years old to see hopping kangaroos. Not to mention that in the next three months, I will be attending a WWE Live event and “Queen” Katy Perry with the littles, as well as Queen and Ed Sheeran with friends (still accepting offers for someone to accompany me to see Ed Sheeran. You get to spend my birthday with me and go to Ed Sheeran for free, as my friends are all “I don’t like him, he’s a hobbit.” Jerks), so having the extra cash would be nice.

In order to finally kicking the junk food habit, I’m imposing my #29DaysJunkFoodFree. From June 1 – 30/14, with the only exception being the soon to be teen’s birthday, I’m going to cut out all junk food, fast food, caffeine, and alcohol. I’m going to put the money I would have spent in a jar to see how much money I waste on junk food. Obviously I’ll need to find some workarounds, as my coworkers are planning a team outing (so I’ll have to order salads and drink water), but I will not eat fast food, or chicken wings, or drink, or have any caffeine. I’ll see how much of a difference it makes on my weight loss goals as well as on my wallet. I’m going to hopefully lose more weight while fattening up my wallet.

This just cracks me up...and will help me kick cupcakes.

This just cracks me up…and will help me kick cupcakes.

Part of trying to live better is taking accountability for what I eat. Cutting out junk food and caffeine and restaurant foods will help me live longer by cutting out excessive fats and unhealthy foods, but it’s going to put money back into my pocket, which will help me support my family. I have friends trying it with me, with each picking one exception day and we’re all going to go #29DaysJunkFoodFree. I hope to see awesome results and get one step closer to living healthy and well and teaching my kids to teach them healthy eating habits too.

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Begin Again

I’ve been told when it comes to dating, I’m just too damn picky.

I think I reserve the right to be picky. I’ve dated Newspapers, Mr. Emotionally Stunted, guys who are completely incapable of love because they’re emotionally crippled, narcissists, physically abusive morons, cheaters, etc. My track record effing sucks. Part of that is because I chose poorly. I didn’t see my own value. I allowed people to walk all over me because I didn’t think I deserved any better. But, now, I look differently. I want someone who will help me evolve as a person, compliment my life, all those cliches.

The picky comment came from a friend after I told a guy I didn’t want to see him anymore when I found out he didn’t have a job. The Gleason Table & my new coworkers agreed that this is a deal breaker. I don’t see that as picky, I see it as smart. “I thought you were an independent woman,” the guy snarked when I told him. I am. I live in a house I pay for. I pay my bills. I support my children completely on my own, as I have not received a child support payment in 22 months (although his wages are finally being garnisheed). Everything I own I have purchased with my money from my jobs. While I currently only have one, at one point I was working two jobs & attending school full time. Why? Because I support myself. I don’t need another person to support, so employability is kind of a must.

Late last year, I made the list of the seven rules to dating MHC. It’s important to me to maintain high standards so that I meet the right person & it works. That doesn’t mean I won’t compromise on little things. For example, I don’t really want to date a man that smokes (ironically enough, every man I ever dated, even casually, has smoked), but I will compromise. But I won’t compromise on unemployment. I just wonder why are you wasting your day pursuing a woman, you should be finding a job! I’m really glad I took time away from dating, as it helped me understand how to make good dating choices. After all, whom I choose will be around my daughters (after one year) & they will base their romantic choices around mine. Too often, people rush from one partner to the next because being alone deafens them. They fear the being alone, the lack of intimacy, the idea that it will never end & you’ll always be alone with your thoughts & self doubt. That’s why all of those relationships fail; because they’re making choices out of loneliness, not because they really care for the person. I wondered if that’s why I kept making bad choices. All of the men I choose are the same; broken birds. Perhaps my lonely, sad & jaded year helped me. It helped me discover that, in the words of WWE Superstar (& my husband in my imagination) Seth Rollins, we are the authors, the finishers of our fate. The reason I was unlucky in love is because I was making bad choices, forgiving men & accepting their mistreatment & taking them back without expecting them to make changes. I was just blindly giving. Well, insanity is defined as doing the same thing & expecting different results. I can’t keep doing the same things. I can’t keep overlooking things I shouldn’t. I can’t be a doormat. I can’t keep losing my identity in a relationship. I need to be able to be me, just with someone. I needed to learn that I wasn’t in the right place to be a partner. I needed to grow up, stop letting others define my happiness, define my own happiness & stop letting love be the excuse for why people treated me like crap, because if they did love me, they wouldn’t treat me like crap!

The old MHC would have looked past the joblessness, and his excuse that it wasn’t his fault, the manager was an ass & wanted to help. The new MHC saw the lack of ownership & knew it’s a red flag & walked, knowing she deserves better. Maybe I am a little bit picky, but that’s only because I need to be. If I don’t think I deserve the best possible partner that compliments me & will be a good male role model for my girls, then who will? My friends? It’s nice that they want what’s good for me, but it’s not up to them to build me up. That’s on me. My family? See above. I have to want what’s right for me, & not push down the doubts because I’m too blinded by love to see that I’m being torn apart piece by piece & becoming a simpering, weak, baby. Maybe that makes me too picky, or frigid, or I’ll die alone. But I’d rather die alone with my kids & my cats & blissfully happy with my life, my writing & my fitness than miserably in love with someone who either a) mistreats me or b) just doesn’t work, or in this case, literally doesn’t work.

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