When the Jian Ghomeshi situation started, I initially defended his right to privacy (which I’ve retracted & apologized for). Now, I say we should be opening the conversation to discussions of consent, trust, the differences between kink & abuse, but amidst the circus & the finger pointing & the gossip, it’s not happening. I’m not one to pussyfoot around conversation & I like to back up what I say, so let’s have this chat, shall we?
Let me fill you in on some random facts about your favourite blogger MHC.
I talk way too much. Like, I never shut up pretty much EVER. I probably talk in my sleep. I talk to my cat like she’s people. I overthink to the nth degree. I fear intimacy & commitment. I over analyze so I’m always 19 steps ahead for no reason & when I figure it out I need to breathe in a bag. I have an irrational fear of abandonment. Then there’s my Fangirl like love for Taylor Swift. It’s really huge. I’m in my 30’s.
I have a fiery temper & strong opinions & I’m stubborn af & I will not back down when I think I’m right. I get way too defensive when I think people question my way of doing things & I’d rather cough up blood than see a doctor. Oh, and I use 80’s slang for fun. I watch terrible movies. I laugh when skateboarders fall down, I hang up on people to play Legend of Zelda & I have a ridiculously childish celebrity crush on Seth Rollins. I tweet too much. I spend too much time on social media. I take too many selfies. I sing along with mall music & dance in aisles & hug inanimate objects at the mall & I wear a Pikachu hoodie & I’m a grown woman. When it comes to my writing I’m a perfectionist. And I’m a total bitch first thing in the morning.
All of these things used to bother me. I was obsessed with trying to be perfect so that people would like me. I tried to bury them down so far that no one would see them. Then one day…I stopped. I owned all of that. I have flaws. Lots of em! I’m an over emotional, hyper focused goofy ball of energy who talks too much. Way too much. And you know what, that’s totes cool.
However, for those who know me best, there’s also the rest of the list. I’m strong & I’m brave. I give infinite chances to those who deserve them. I like to think myself a kind hearted soul who loves to be nice just because I can & my greatest joy is making those I love happy. I fancy myself pretty smart, and I often joke that I am the best in the world at what I do (a line I borrowed from a great and wise multi hyphenate…Chris Jericho). I’m quite pretty in the right light, I take great pride in my work, my family & my ability to be the role model my daughters deserve so they don’t need TV to find one. I love my career so much that I take pride in the tiniest things. I still have an innocent view of the world, of love, that people are essentially good & often I’m right. I’m determined; there’s not much that I don’t get if I want it badly enough. Some people have told me I have a lovely singing voice. I lost 85lbs on my own without a fad diet. I kick crossfit’s ass. I’m pretty much the raddest chick that I know. In order to be the woman I’m most proud of, I needed to accept that there are parts that suck. And that’s okay.
In order to appreciate all of the amazing things that I am capable of being, I needed to accept that I’m not perfect and the list of flaws help me define my strengths. You cannot be strong until you’ve been weak. You cannot be proud of who you are if you can’t look at yourself honestly & accept every facet of who you are. So, I do & I’m proud of all of it, even the talking to my cat. She gets me.
I’ll always be the girl who shuts herself away when she’s stressed about stuff that isn’t even real & writes paragraphs until she’s over it. I’ll always be the girl who talks too much & struggles to let people get close to her & will wonder if the people in my life are gonna bail (except Erica. She stays forever. She’s my Murican soulmate. <3). But that’s okay because those are small things & the amazing things I do outweigh the quirks I have & I aspire each day to work on those flaws so that they remain the most minuscule part of my life & people only see how bad ass I am. While I accept them, I also handle them in my own way so that they don’t take over my life. I can’t bury them anymore, because I want those in my life to love me for me; good & irksome. So, I accept them as I would the flaws of others & assume that those in my life will accept them too. Because there is nothing in life that will ever be 100% positive. There’s always something crappy. But if you just own the negative & focus on the positive, you can be really happy just being yourself.
Updated 10/29: I have always been of the opinion that human beings and reporters should be fluid and open to changing their position if need be.
When the story of Jian Ghomeshi first broke, I was understandably annoyed. Not necessarily with Mr. Ghomeshi or the women coming forward, but for the lack of credible evidence, time frames and holes in the story. This is bad journalism. This is not okay. I have had a love for this medium since I was eight years old and I do not like seeing it reduced to gossip while a reporter on Twitter baits a response from the subject of their article; an article that was obviously not conclusive enough to print. I have a great love for my work, the medium I chose and I’m proud when I can bring you information. However, unlike so many of my colleagues, I am not afraid to admit when my original position was less than accurate.
I still 100% stand by my statement that no one has the right to go into others’ bedrooms, unless of course the law was broken. I am a woman, I pride myself on being a feminist and believe all humans should be equal. By stating that I will not believe a woman simply because she is a woman, nor a man in power simply because he is a man in power, but we should all listen to the facts (once they’ve been presented), I was called anti-woman, anti-feminist and told to burn in Hell. This is not how we should do things. My stance was not to defend anyone except my own profession, which is not a court of law, nor should it be. This is still something that troubles me, that Mr. Ghomeshi is being tried in the court of public opinion and not a court of law. This should be a matter for the Canadian Court of Justice, not the Toronto Star. I understand many of you will continue to send me hate mail and tell me that it’s hard to come forward and until I’ve walked in their shoes, I will never know how it feels to be sexually assaulted and the like. I’ve been in their shoes. I have a very mighty pen, which is far mightier than any sword. I could have used my experiences to crush the bastard who took so much from me, including my comfort level with intimacy, and my complete faith in any man, including my current boyfriend, who must endure my trust issues & fleeting moments of fear. I could have done a great many things; a scathing tell all, met up with his other victims, etc. But instead I went to the police. Because justice is delivered there. I deliver information, which I share with you. I am not judging these women, I do not know why they chose the path that they did. I admire the woman who stood forward and gave her name and told her story without any fear. But I know the path that I chose and that’s the one that worked for me.
I do not know if Mr. Ghomeshi is guilty or not. I do not care. I do not know if the eight women who have come forward, including Lucy Decouture, who gave a detailed timeframe is telling the truth. I do not care. What I do care about is the profession I love being denigrated into gossip rags while people grab their pitchforks and vilify these women or Mr. Ghomeshi. That bothers me to no end. We have a Justice system for a reason, it should not be done at a water cooler. I care about those attacking the singer Lights for defending the man she knew as her mentor & friend. I care about the wagging tongues & biased reporting (save for the National Post) creating a circus instead of opening up a conversation about consent, consent within the BDSM lifestyle, etc. We should be learning from this. We should be identifying holes in consent & helping more women know they can go to the police. All that’s happened here is hoopla & attacking. We’ve learned nothing. Well, I learned that a bunch of strangers on the Internet think I should be brutally attacked so I know how it feels & I’m Satan. I’ve learned so much!
So, as I said in a previous post after the Ottawa shootings, please arm yourself with information. Do not take sides (as I indirectly did & I apologize) without taking the time to review the situation. Ask questions. Hold the media accountable to the standard that you deserve and if the media chooses to make themselves the judge, jury and executioner, then please give all parties the due process that they should get in a court of law.
I love Taylor Swift.
I know, grown women in their 30’s likely shouldn’t admit this, but I do. She’s beautiful & talented with wisdom beyond her years. Her album Red is one of the best written albums I’ve ever heard & if you listened to All too Well & didn’t cry the first time, then you have no soul.
Taylor Swift writes about her life, which is likely why her music resonates. She writes about her joy, her pain, her adventures. Of course, people choose to dissect her lyrics to find the call out to her former loves (Red was widely speculated to be about Jake Gylenhaal), often to hilarious results (like the speculation that I Knew You Were Trouble was about One Directioner Harry Styles, despite their relationship beginning AFTER the single was released). Recent interviews with Swift show her continuing disenchantment with the world; she hasn’t dated in two years so she won’t be a punchline. She has security with her at all times & you must surrender your phone to enter her apartment building. This young lady has become jaded & I don’t blame her.
One thing Swift has stressed when promoting her latest effort 1989 (which hits stores 10/27) is that she’s sick of being labelled as the girl who writes diss tracks about her exes. Swift writes about her life. Sometimes she sees things a certain way. Swift was also quick to point out that famous men like Ed Sheeran and Bruno Mars are universally praised for penning songs about their exes. Sheeran’s album + was written about a young woman he dated before fame, whom he writes about again on his latest effort x. But it’s his song Don’t, which he verbally assaults a former lover who cheated on him (later confirmed to be Ellie Goulding) that generated praise for his honest songwriting & fans took to social media to put Goulding on blast. Meanwhile, the same fans & reporters attack Swift for “calling out her exes” & her immaturity, often defending the alleged exes & claiming Swift deserves mistreatment from men because she writes songs about them. Swift took Entertainment Tonight to task for this & she wanted the music to speak for itself. So, when she released the track list for 1989, naturally they responded with excitement about the album, right?
I guess I understand Taylor Swift because I’m a writer. I write about my life. I write about my attempts to navigate through life without screwing it up, which happens almost never. If you are part of my life, I have probably written about you. The greatest compliment I’ve ever received was when someone told me reading what I wrote inspired them to be a better person (ironically enough, it was the person who once said the cruelest thing anyone has ever said to me). Although I don’t believe I have that power, it was nice to think that my endless drivel meant something to someone. But yes, I write about the people in my life. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes I’m not so nice. But, I write about my life, how I see events, the world around me. I try to keep it cute, but I wouldn’t be a very authentic blogger if I didn’t write about my life honestly.
However, I think it’s to a lesser degree than people think. A couple of years ago, I wasn’t happy. So, I wrote about my jaded feelings towards a belief system I no longer had (which I’ve reclaimed, albeit a bit smarter). I wrote about losing my faith in love (which I reclaimed by loving myself) & my ability to trust & songs on the radio & whatever caught my fancy…because it made ME feel better. But everyone thought it was about them; friends, family, former loves, everyone. But the truth is, none of you crossed my mind. I’m sure Taylor Swift isn’t thinking “that’ll teach him,” when she’s penning a song. She’s probably thinking “This makes me feel happy.” I know it’s weird, but not everything is a calculated dig. Writing is my therapy; it doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes I just need to put words out because when I’m doing it, I’m very at peace with myself. The same seems true for Taylor Swift. But for some reason, she’s painted as terrible & fans take up for Harry Styles & his innocence (meanwhile, Ellie Goulding remains on blast).
The most beautiful art comes from real life. The character of Daisy Buchanan was inspired by F Scott Fitzgerald’s wife Zelda. Most of Edgar Allen Poe’s work was brought about from his feelings after the deaths of his parents, foster father & wife at various points in his life. The greatest songs were written about a concept or person that the writer was passionate about. Life inspires great works because it’s authentic & real & people understand it.
It’s funny, for all people do to dissect & discredit Taylor Swift, there’s at least one song we all relate to (my current one is Come Back…Be Here) & listen to when we’re feeling down, or romantic, etc. That’s because the emotions Taylor sings about are real. So, let’s stop wondering who she wrote about & listen to what she’s singing & enjoy her music. After all, music was written to be enjoyed, not analyzed.
While I generally do not care to discuss my relationship with my boyfriend (as I like having that part of my life fairly private), since he pretty much suggested this entire post (complete with the title), I kind of have to.
He’s an interesting & captivating man, compassionate & smart & sweet & pretty much every good adjective you can think of. He supports my crazy desire to become the world’s greatest reporter/cell phone princess & reads literally every word I write. But, in addition to all of these amazing things, he entertains my needs to ask questions.
I’m an inquisitive sort; I need to know everything about the world around me. So, I ask a million questions; about the world, my family, etc. I ask him a million questions every day; how is your day, your life, your daughter, tell me about your job, etc. and he answers them all. I think it’s because he’s like me; he likes information. Whether it’s sports, politics, current events, world religion, he likes to know. I think that’s why we work; he’s the intellectual and I’m the journalist, the supplier of information. He loves to learn & I love to inform, we’re quite the pair. Also, he hasn’t complained about my inability to shut up ever, so either he’s mastered tuning me out or is a glutton for punishment.
However, he possesses dual citizenship & unlike most Canadians, he would actually prefer to be American. We have conversations about when Thanksgiving is supposed to be (pro-tip; he’s wrong) & I often end conversations with “YOU WERE BORN HERE.” So, we tend to differ on the “American” vs. “Canadian” way.
Today’s horrible shooting in Ottawa put a halt to our mock fights about national pride to listen & read about what was happening. This was a horrible thing & a young man lost his life for no good reason. He’ll never have another birthday or Christmas. His beloved dogs will never see their master again. His parents will never hear his voice on the phone & my heart breaks for them. No 24 year old should be taken from this world in such a terrible way & I hope that we as a nation will stand by the Cirillo family through this horrific time.
I wanted to know why this happened, what measures will be taken to protect our Prime Minister & Members of Parliament going forward, how did a man with a gun get into Parliament, is there a second shooter, etc. The RCMP was mum. The Canadian Press seemed mute except about the lockdown. Meanwhile, CBS already had the identity of the shooter & breaking news site heavy.com had a bunch of facts about him, before the Canadian Press knew what was up. I was so frustrated, because as a journalist (albeit a fluffy celeb journalist) I didn’t understand why no one was informing us & why we as Canadians seemed to be okay with that. I texted my beau a huge rant, which prompted my epiphany that perhaps his “American” thought process wasn’t so off base & he told me to write this because I’m a genius.
The truth is; we get the media we deserve.
My American friends are not afraid to question everything they hear. My Facebook timeline is inundated with them questioning their government, their police, the FBI, Mark Zuckerberg, and the list goes on & on. They live in a “stranger danger” sort of world. When the Boston Marathon was horrifically bombed, we had real time updates from every reliable news agency in the world, as the American media kept people appraised. We knew who, why, who was at large in hours & people knew what was happening. Today, people in Canada sat questioning how this happens here & when I would ask why it happened, I was told I was nitpicking the coverage instead of the tragedy & shame on me.
While Americans live in stranger danger, we in Canada do the opposite; we don’t care. We’re ostriches. Political scandals are overlooked (one of my colleagues once wrote an amazing piece for a magazine we all wrote for about Canada’s apathy to political corruption) because that doesn’t happen here (yes it does), we flip out whenever there’s a major crime because it doesn’t happen here (a prime example was when a meth lab blew up near my old house right before I moved & everyone freaked because that doesn’t happen here), and we’re so focused on being perfect utopia Canada that we miss that bad things happen here & we need to accept that so we can learn from it so it doesn’t happen anymore. People get murdered, there is crime, there is corruption & pretending it doesn’t happen won’t make it any less true. While my feelings towards Prime Minister Harper’s politics follow “I don’t agree with anything he says ever,” he was very realistic when he said we are not immune to terrorist attacks. We are not. Fortunately our Nation escaped this horrific day with only one tragic loss. But we need to be smart and arm ourselves with information, we need to ask questions so we won’t be shaking our heads wondering how this happened because it doesn’t happen in Canada. I love my Nation; I think it’s a beautiful place and I am so proud to be Canadian, but we are not a utopia and the biggest lesson we need to take from this tragedy is like Mr. Harper said, we are not immune to tragedy, so we need to stand in the face of these things and not hope it just goes away.
Perhaps we do need to borrow a page from our American brethren and accept that bad things happen and start asking questions. It is perfectly okay to question your government. It is okay to question law enforcement. It is okay to ask what is happening in the world around you, if you are safe, because when all is said and done, these people work for us to preserve our way of life and for the most part, they do a damned good job. But if we as Canadians are not asking, we won’t be informed and we’ll have to learn from our neighbours what’s happening in our own backyard. We cannot peer over the fence and ask America who is attacking us. We need to find out for ourselves.
So, ask questions. Seek knowledge. Make the media answer those questions. Hold them accountable and let’s make it a point to make sure we aren’t ostriches as the world goes to Hell around us, because it CAN happen here.
There are very few things in life that I can honestly say make me angry.
I don’t like to be angry, or irritated because I pride myself on being like Ruby Gloom, the happiest girl in the world. The only things in life that make me angry are;
1. Stupid people
2. People who make other people feel like crap.
When I first read about the disgusting Cloud photo hack, I was horrified. This was an enormous sex crime. These women were being violated in the worst way & most people said “they should know better.” I’m sorry, what? Their personal items were stolen & we’re blaming them? What? That’d be like me stealing all of your stuff & then the cops saying that because you only had an alarm system & not a dog too & some of these DVD’s were rated R, you asked for it. Silly, right? I went off on a number of Facebook pages when people blamed these women saying they shouldn’t have taken the pictures. Well, funny story; since the invention of the camera, people have taken nudes. Polaroids can get stolen too. Have a nice day.
It bothered me because we were basically telling women “Hey! If you’re famous, your bodies belong to us! Nope, it doesn’t matter that you don’t want us to see these photos, you make movies, I get to own you,” and that kind of made me sick. However, the ever classy & beautiful Jennifer Lawrence said what everyone should have said in her Vanity Fair piece…
…this was not a scandal. It was a sex crime.
Fast forward to the Wendy Williams show, where Williams publicly chided Lawrence, saying because she chose to take the photos (for then boyfriend Nicholas Hoult), she’s guilty & this probably gave her career a boost! She then encouraged fans to whoop & clap if they looked @ Lawrence’s photos.
You’re encouraging people to say “yay! I violated a woman!” Williams claimed she wasn’t disgusting for looking at Lawrence’s photos because Lawrence took them. That’s like saying a person deserves to be raped because they once chose to have sex. Those photos were for Nicholas Hoult, Ms. Williams, NOT FOR YOU and yes, that does make you disgusting for looking. You are a horrible person & I hope Jennifer Lawrence never appears on your show again. Jennifer Lawrence is a three time Academy Award nominee & Best Actress award winner. She is the face of Dior & most notably Katniss Everdeen, the main character of the billion dollar franchise, The Hunger Games. Nude photos didn’t “give her career a boost.” Her career was already there.
It’s funny how we preach that women should be able to do what they want with their bodies but then shame them when they do. I’m currently in a long distance relationship, as my boyfriend lives two hours away from me. I’ll admit that I have sent him risqué (for me) photos & may or may not have promised a “sexy Skype striptease.” When you don’t have the luxury of face time & physical contact, you use what you can. However, I also trust that he wouldn’t share those photos because we are both very private about our private life (in fact, much like my children, my references to my relationship will likely be minimal). I once knew a girl who sent risqué photos to a “friend” whenever she wanted him to come over. When my friend lived far away from her then boyfriend (now husband), she made him a risqué care package. It’s more common than you think. But, instead of teaching women to look at their bodies & sexuality as a filthy & dirty thing & how dare you want your man (or woman) to look at you & think you’re sexy (which is exactly why I sent the photos, because I want my man to think “hey, my lady is really sexy, I can’t wait to see her in person again,”), let’s teach people to stop hacking clouds & humiliating other people & looking at doesn’t belong to us. I’m pretty sure Wendy Williams wouldn’t want someone going through her phone; so I’m not sure why she felt it was okay to go through Jennifer Lawrence’s.
I’m an extremely clever woman.
Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty smart. I have not one, but two college educations, I read a lot of books, I’m constantly learning & trying to evolve so I can teach my daughters that education & learning doesn’t stop when school ends. But, even though I’m really smart…I’m really freaking dumb.
I’m sure you’re thinking “No MHC! You’re brilliant! Don’t sell yourself short!” (Or “about time you figured it out. You’re so dumb that you didn’t know you’re dumb!”)
Why am I dumb? Because for a social media savvy blogger & entertainment reporter who understands that what’s online never goes away, I literally have no regard for my safety.
This past month I had a conversation with a friend who told me I needed to change the settings on my RunKeeper app because I was literally tweeting a map to my house. I was also informed that my address could be easily acquired from a misprinted address that I found funny. That’s right kids; I posted my HOME ADDRESS on the internet & didn’t even think about it. As my friend said “I could knock on your door & tell you I followed the trail of clues to stalk you. How are you not dead?” I guess no one wants to kill me, so yay?
But this is just one of the many dunderheaded things I do without thinking because I’m flipping dumb. Maybe more naive. I go jogging @ midnight because I figure no one mugs a jogger, especially one with a high end smartphone on her arm while I go down abandoned streets & A CONSTRUCTION SITE. I don’t pay attention & step out in front of cars. I put my address on the Internet & a map thanks to RunKeeper. I’m the easiest human being on Earth to find apparently. (That post has been removed & now only my friends with RunKeeper can see the map)
It’s funny how we as parents preach safety to our children but then don’t even think about our own internet safety (Hell, I didn’t even know what reverse postal code lookup was until two weeks ago). How are we supposed to teach our kids to be knowledgeable about Internet safety (or personal safety) when we literally don’t think & just assume we’re immortal? I need to think & be smarter about how I go about my day; go running earlier, maybe in the mornings, keep a walkie talkie with me at work so when I’m on the floor alone I can call security…oh, and not post my address online. That’s probably a good place to start.
Raising a teenager is ever so much fun.
My daughter is an amazingly bright & brilliant girl, but she’s also a normal teen, with her mood swings & melodrama. She eavesdrops on every conversation, she is better at picking stuff up than the CIA, so I’ve had to resort to either conversing via text (as my phone needs a fingerprint to unlock) in my house or hiding personal aspects of my adult life because otherwise she will know. She’s also like me; strong willed, over-achieving & determined. So, we have our moments where I’m the mean mom & she’s being somehow neglected, despite her lovely home, nice clothes, guitar & Jiujitsu lessons & shiny green iPhone. Please alert Child Services haha.
This past month, my child came to me with two requests; she wanted to transfer to the Roman Catholic school system for grade nine & a nose ring. I said no to both initially, the former because I don’t like her basing her major life choices on gossip & the latter because when I opted to do crazy stuff like piercings & tattoos, I was in my 20’s. Not to mention I did just consent to the blue hair, I think I’ve been fair.
But, she surprised me by coming to me with real research. The Roman Catholic school has a better science program & on site math tutoring, and as she’s chosen Kinesiology as her major (in case her goal of multi time WWE Divas Champion doesn’t pan out) so having those things will benefit her. The feeder school is trades based, so her University applications won’t be taken as seriously. Uniforms will prevent her from feeling envious & wanting expensive brand name clothes & the school has a better athletics department with a focus on track & field, her preferred sport. She presented a logical argument, so I relented & come fall 2015, she will be transferred to the Roman Catholic high school…
…then she said all of her friends have nose rings so why not her & she lost that round.
But I’m learning as she grows that I need to listen to her. When she pulls out that side of her (that she adopted from me) where she carefully & logically explains her point, I have to respect her input. After all, if I don’t respect her educational wishes for high school, how will I get her to be passionate about University someday? I won’t be able to. So, I’m going to listen to her viewpoint & if she’s taken the time to present what she wants in a mature way, I will listen. I won’t agree every time, but I will listen. This is something I think we need to apply to everyone; if they’ve taken the time & effort to present a rational view, we should listen. This may help me get all three kids to adulthood with all of my hair intact. Maybe. Maybe.
Let me tell a story.
In January 2013, Justin Timberlake announced his 20/20 Experience tour. As a long time Timberlake fan, from back to his Mr. Noodle headed N*Sync days, I frantically called my now former best friend and told him we were going. He flatly said he wasn’t a big enough Timberlake fan to go, so no, we weren’t. It wasn’t worth his money, even though I thought it’d be fun.
Fast forward to a few months later, when the Great Gatsby, one of my all time favourite books, was released on film. I begged all of my friends to go with me, pleaded & maybe even whined. To this day, I have not seen Gatsby, as anyone who knows me knows I prefer the movie theatre experience so I rarely watch movies @ home. I was so disappointed that no one would attend the movie with me, just because it wasn’t their film choice.
I have a point, I promise.
Three days before I moved, Ed Sheeran announced his concert pre-sale. I love Ed, and have even written entire blog posts dedicated to my love for him. I actually took out a cash advance (which I’ve since paid off) so I wouldn’t affect my moving fund to buy the tickets. Zero effs given. I offered up the ticket & was met with the usual “No, I don’t like him. I’m not going. I don’t care that the ticket is free.” My good friend Shannon agreed to go but couldn’t at the last minute. With the exception of an old Sutherland friend, a coworker, & Damanda (who all had scheduling conflicts), I had no volunteers. I was about to sell my tickets on Kijiji, when my good friend the Texan suggested I just go anyway. I thought about it. I had been excited for six months, and booked my travel & hotel. Why not?
So I went. I went shopping, I saw Ed & my life was complete (until the next live act I need to see goes on tour).
But how many times have we all done that, skipped something we really wanted to do just because we don’t have a friend or partner to go with us? I can think of so many movies I didn’t see because my friends or person I was seeing at the time didn’t want to go, so I missed out. I’m a social person; I love company. But, seeing as all of my London friends either a) work crazy hours like me or b) work the same shift as me because they work with me, I needed to get over the idea that I need someone to come to a movie with me to keep up some kind of appearance to strangers. Who cares? It’s no one’s fault but mine that I missed Gatsby. I could have just gone, right? But I didn’t. And had I sold my tickets, I would be kicking myself for missing Ed. Instead I went shopping, brought home great gifts for my girls & swag for my coworkers & a great shirt to wear to my birthday party tomorrow. But most importantly, I saw a great concert & had a wonderful time. Now I’m heading home to work a short shift & enjoy my family. All good things. Did I mention I sold my extra ticket & made a nice profit? Because I totally did.
So, don’t let messed up plans or lack of interest deter you from what YOU want to do. Go to that concert solo, go to that movie. Dinner for one? Heck yes! The only person who will miss out is you, so suck up the insecurities & have a blast!
Happy Birthday ASH Multimedia!
I started this bliggity four years ago today and I wanted to thank all of you for going on this crazy ride known as my life with me. I’m not going to review all of the ups and downs, just thank you for reading my thoughts and feelings as life happens and hope you kept the laughing @ me to a minimum. I once had an audience of one and that meant everything to me; now I have a much larger audience and that’s really awesome. I’m so excited to see how my little creative outlet has grown.
Every year on this day I try to impart some kind of wisdom that I think will help with daily life. Today is no different.
***Disclaimer: I am a moron. Helpful wisdom is for entertainment purposes only***
I’ve always believed that some of us were put on this Earth to change the world and accomplish amazing things. My daughters are three of those people. I once told someone very important to me that his destiny was to accomplish great things & I just wanted to be by his side while he did.
Now, I like to think I am one of those people, but then I remember, not likely. I write puff pieces & this blog. But I think we all have some kind of purpose on this planet and sometimes that purpose is hard to see when things kind of suck. For a long time, I didn’t really give myself credit for my life’s accomplishments, only my failures. But when I sit in my little house by the creek, with my punch clock job & my new media job & another media project a friend is starting, my happy and healthy children and my 65lbs weight loss, I realize that we as humans need to let ourselves feel pride in who we are. It’s okay to be selfish and say “I did this,” because we need to feel competent and successful. I know what I can do & how strong & successful I can be & I’m proud of that. I no longer need to see my worth in being beside someone; I have worth for being me.
But that’s not my wisdom.
My wisdom is a simple lesson I had to tell myself when I felt completely alone and miserable. I had felt betrayed, like an idiot, and so completely alone and humiliated. But, when I woke up in the morning, I looked in the mirror and said “I’m still here.” Those three words got me through all of the bad times from that day on. Obviously, whatever was bothering me, whatever thing that I thought was life altering and heartbreaking couldn’t be that bad, because I’m still here. I’m still here on this Earth to raise my daughters and accomplish something important. At various points in my life, like all of you, I would lay my head down on my pillow and sob and wish I wouldn’t wake up in the morning…but I did and I’m so glad that I did, because now I get to live my raddest life. I’m still here, on this planet, to make some kind of difference, so I plan to live my raddest life, and be happy, and be positive, and be the person I’ve always want to be so I can teach my daughter how to live their raddest lives.
So, if you’re in the “everything sucks” part of your journey, it’s okay. We all have that part of our story and you’ll soon learn that it’s actually one of the most awesome parts of your journey. No, I’m not insane. All of that bad, horrible crap that rips your heart out and brings you to your knees will help you see how strong and brave you can be. You’ll learn that while in those dark moments, maybe you didn’t handle them with grace or maturity (I know I didn’t), but that’s okay; anyone who says that they handled every single thing in life with poise & grace & has never gone a little bit crazy is a big liar. However, you endured and when they’re over, you’ll have the joy of knowing that you are strong and powerful and brave…and no one can ever take that away from you unless you let them. You are in control of your feelings, how you see yourself. If someone is crushing you, you’re letting them. Take control by telling yourself every day that you are worthy of living the best life. By reminding yourself that this life altering, soul crushing blow wasn’t the end, it’ll help you to keep moving on & when it’s all over & you’re succeeding & thriving; you’ll know that it’s because you learned from the bad.
So, thanks for reading four years of my drivel. I hope to amuse you for four more. I hope we get through lots of really cool stuff together. Maybe I’ll get to tell you about how I met my soulmate and I just knew. Maybe I’ll announce I got the best journalism gig ever (although I really love the one I just started) or another awesome move & of course, how my girls become women. Maybe someday I’ll write my book on love (working title is “I attract Losers”) and you can be hipsters & say you knew me BEFORE it became big & turned into a romcom starring Jessica Alba & Adam Levine. And we’ll laugh. And we’ll cry. And we’ll be strong and amazing people, because we’ll all still be here.