Shut up already!

    I used to be a whiner. Yeah me. (Insert sarcastic eye roll here). It's shameful, yes, but the great thing about being an ex member of this loathesome group, is the simple fact that it's much easier to recognize current members.

     Now don't get me wrong: I occasionally whip out my worn and tattered "Whiners Club of America" card and galivant with newbies, but for the most part, I've given up all membership privileges and perks. For me, the dues simply weren't worth the cost to my success.

     Here's the thing: SUCCESSFUL people don't whine often. Losers do. It's pretty simple to understand, but in an effort to get as many of you as possible to relinquish (or at least put away) your club cards, I am willing to go a little deeper. I've had the luxury of keeping the company of some very successful and some very wealthy people. Wanna know what these people complain about? Not much. In fact, I can only think of one complaint that regularly reverberates amoung them. I won't keep you guessing. It's this; "I'm so fucking tired." Yep. Even that one is seldom heard. 

     Successful people have too much shit to do with not enough hours in the day. They don't have much time to sit around perusing Facebook for the latest "issue" to piss them off. They don't have have time for quarreling and "drama". They don't have time to worry about much at all, because they are too busy finding solutions to the crap that so many other people are sitting around crying about. Their biggest complaint is that they exhausted from being so ridiculously awesome. 

    So there you have it folks. You can have everything you want out of life if you spend less time complaining and more time doing shit. 

Here's a start: Turn in your membership card.

Gettin' Er Done!

     Life is not easy. Not by a long shot. Sometimes it feels like you're traveling up the same hill, over and over again, (a very  slippery, muddy hill), with a booty full of diarrhea. Sometimes it feels as if the easiest solution would be to, slide back down, take a poop right there at the bottom, and wallow in it forever. That's better than continuously failing right?

     I've been there. Trust me. I can't tell you how many moments I've thought, "Wow, this is never going to change!" The great thing though is, for me, those are fleeting moments. They pass quickly because I remember that there is nothing I can't do or have if I want it. Sure, I've failed, but I'm crazy enough to keep trying. Sure I've made mistakes, but I know how to move past them and keep going. The amazing and most inspiring thing as that for every moment I've had that awful thought, I've had a moment soon after where I looked back, amazed that I'd done the very thing I had doubted. Every. Single. Time.

     Here's the trick: As long as you keep trying something, anything, especially if you keep using different approaches, you can't keep failing. Can't get up the hill? Go around! The relationship isn't working out? Fix it (or move on). Diet keeps failing? Stop dieting and change your life style. Don't like your job? Start training for a new career.  The solutions aren't always easy, but there is always a solution. Just don't stop. As far as I'm concerned, there is no thing that can not be overcome, and frankly; I'd rather look like the fool clinging desperately to the side of a mountain top still reaching for my goal, than to be surrounded by a bunch of soggy-pants whiners sitting in the valley. 

     Whatever you are reaching for, keep striving for it. There is nothing holding you back but yourself. Get it done, by any means necessary. 💜

Gifts

A lesson:

Once, my grandmother gave me a compact. 

It was absolutely beautiful. Cool, shinning, perfect yellow brass embellished with scarlet cloisonné sparrows. I had never seen one anything so perfect. 

At the time, it was probably 50 years  old.  I told myself that I would never let it out of my sight. That even 50 years from then, I would be handing it down to my own grandchild with that same illuminated smile stretched across my face.  

I can still see her pressing it into my right hand and as I reached up to clasp it with my  left, she leaned down and gently held my palms together with the compact nestled between us. "Take care of this", she said. "They don't make these anymore. It's very special, and I saved it for you." I stared down at the now warm gift in my hand and promised that I would. 

The years passed and the compact lost it's shine from being thrown into my makeup bag among my generic drugstore finds. Later the mirror inside cracked  after it found its way into the bottom of my book bag and into a gym locker. I shuddered a bit inside when I saw that crack; Remembering my grandmothers words and the way my heart had once leapt at the sight of those ruby sparrows glistening in my hand. 

Soon after, I remembered the shattered gift at the bottom of my bag. Stained, tarnished, and damaged from my carelessness. I decided to dig it out, and repair it the best my hands, now 20 and a bit wiser, could manage. 

I searched every bag. 

I dumped out every container, and even traversed my schools "lost and found" looking for that compact. 

It was gone.

 It's been 16 years since I first laid eyes on that gift. 12 years since the last time I saw it in its damaged condition, and 13 months since the death of my grandmother.  

I'm still not over my carelessness. My inability to see, respect, and care for my priceless gift. Now, I search every antique store, every yard sale, and estate auction hoping to find something as perfect as those enameled birds and their crimson eyes glittering  in a sea of gilded metal; and to this day, I have never seen another one like it. Not even close.

Some gifts, I suppose, are once in a lifetime. 💜

Shakeology: Day 1

Here's the rundown:

  I am lucky enough to have an awesome bf who left me have some of his stash. I'm glad he did because the price tag for one months supply is a whopping 147$! That's enough for at least 15 units of Botox. Which is enough Botox for... let's say a prepubescent boy. Ok, ok, it's not that expensive in the grand scheme of things, but still, that works out to about $4.90 a shake. It's steep I guess, but honestly it's about the same price as a Venti mocha-schmocha fat-ass in a BPA ridden plastic cup. Your choice. Whatev.

     Since the bf's sister is a beach body coach and shakeology distributer, I was able to harass her in the middle of the night for recipes that wouldn't make the shake taste like elephant balls. (I read some bad reviews on google,Mmmkay?). I mixed mine with one cup of light almond milk, half a banana and 3 ice cubes. The powder and milk were mixed for 1 minute straight to make the shake smooth. Then I added the banana and ice just until the shake was smooth again. It looked good. It smelled great. Then it was time to taste...😁

     *drumroll*

    I was actually pleasantly surprised. After all the online references to the tropical strawberry flavor tasting more like mammalian testicles, I was very afraid. Unnecessarily so. The shake was pretty tasty, and I didn't have to, (and I quote) "Suck it down like a mouth full of..."  (You don't want to know the test, and yes, someone actually wrote that). I digress...It was pretty good.

     I will update you tomorrow on how I feel throughout the day. Until then, enjoy your 6$ cup of high-fructose corn syrup. Cheers!

Rocking the boat.

     Over the past few weeks, the media has been full of some very controversial issues. Mostly, I have been pretty quiet except In small social circles where I know I will not be attacked. While this merely sounds like a woman who is keeping the "drama" at bay; I call it cowardice.

     I spent at least half of my life being fearful of others opionions. Even when I knew I was right, when I was angry at an obvious injustice, or when I knew I should  speak up, I most often remained silent. Part of my fear came from years of desperately trying to earn the approval of those closest to me. I felt that if I was "good", quiet, and easy going, I would be loved. The other part came from wanting so badly to be accepted by my peers. I wanted to go with the flow, so to speak, I'm order to be part of the crowd. I didn't want to stand out or speak out in anyway that would cause me to be stigmatized of labeled. Sad right? The good thing is that I am no longer afraid.

     Years of insatiable acquiescence made me so angry and wounded. I was a shell of a person and could not love others because I was so fearful of their judgement and I could not love myself because I was ashamed of who I had become. A serious incident later changed  my life and stripped me of my silence (more about that another day). I found myself stronger an unable to keep quiet any longer. Thank God.

     The point is, we aren't all born brave.  It's far easier to keep quiet in the face of oppression and injustice because speaking out often makes you a target. I get it. I really do. I have just chosen to live my life being true to what I believe is right whether the people around me do or not. I can not stand by and witness the maltreatment of my fellow man and I will most certainly not be silent if I, myself am ever again a victim. 

     Someone has to rock the boat and trouble the water. Someone has to take the helm and steer in a new direction.  If we are to move forward, change things, and go places never before explored, we have no choice but to make waves. I have never seen still waters carry anyone anywhere. 

     

Holiday weight gain: sigh

     So it's the day after the Labor Day week end and I can't tell you how guilty (and large I feel). I know what you're thinking: "how bad could it have really been?" Let me tell ya, it was baaaaadd. I probably consumed the equivalent of at LEAST 2 pounds. It started with a slice of pizza...and ended with, well, I don't wanna say, but it involved a lit crimson sign that read: "Hot And Ready".

And I was...

     I'm not even weighing myself because the agony of seeing the scale inch up a bit might be enough to drive me insane and further fuel my weekend debauchery.   Instead, I'm choosing to employ a few methods to help shed the awful fat I fear I've gained. 

1. I'll be receiving my vitamin B injection to help energy.

2. Continuing to take my ACE supplement

3. Working out (which I haven't done in months.

Don't judge me. 

Update soon...

On a lighter note; I wore a bikini in public for the first time EVER! I wasn't perfect but I was very proud!  

Here are my current stats:

1. 5' 10"

2. 140 pounds

3. No exercise (I know, I know)

4. Taking ACE supplements 

Weightloss update: Never enough

     Weight loss, I have concluded, is the most difficult thing In the world to master. 

Think about it; Even the worlds most successful, diligent, and prolific leaders (ie: Oprah) have struggled with it.  It's seems that it's easier to become one of the worlds richest women, than to maintain a Normal BMI. Sad, no?

     With that being said, I'm very proud that through ups and downs, I have been able to maintain my weight. Please don't think that it has come without a great deal of work. For me though, it's worth it.  The interesting thing is that, at 135-140 pounds (I'm 5'10"), I'm less than my original goal weight (145) yet still feel "fat". (My new goal is 120 pounds.) Isn't that the human condition? Nothing is ever good enough and we always seem to want what we cannot have. While the goal of 120 is feasible, it will not be easy, will consume a great deal of energy, and may simply not be a healthy weight for me. I'm taking it day by day. 

     I realize that my (sometimes) unrealistic body image can be attributed to a plethora of factors; from my upbringing to societal pressures. The bottom line is that most of the factors are  external and therein lies the problem:

I don't want to raise daughters who spend the next 30 years battling the thighs the inherited from none-other than me. I don't want them to base their worth on their jean size or wake up morning after morning hating their beautiful curves. 

     So at this point, I'm desperately trying to find a balance. How do I meet my own goals/needs while staying healthy and teaching my daughters to love themselves? I haven't figured it all out yet, but, I, like the rest of the world, am a work in progress. That's the goal after all right? Progress.

Diy: Ceiling medallion

O

Easy peasy! 

1. Bought this giant medallion at a yard sale for 2 bucks!

2. Washed and dried.

3. Spray painted with walmarts 1$ paint in "royal blue".

4. Let dry 

Done and done! 

Never waste food!

Are you a total douche who let's food go to waste after you've done a "pre diet" shopping spree? Do you clean out the fridge at the end of the week only to find that you've thrown out lots of fruits and veggies that have rotted at the bottom of the drawers? 

NO BUENO

Here are some easy tricks:

1. Bananas/fruits: do not freeze whole!

    If you'll be using them for smoothies and such, they'll be far too difficult to blend. 

2. Peel, chop, bag! Easy 

2. Greens: spinach, kale, yada, yada...

    Simple remove any part that you don't 

    Want, stuff into your ninja/blender or 

    Whatever, add a bit of water and  

   Blend, pour into ice trays, freeze and

    empty into plastic baggies. Done and  

    Done.

Remember:

1. Label your bags

2. Peel before freezing

3. Don't waste food! 💚👍👈

   

A word on love:

     Love isn't as prolific as it might seem. If you find it;  embrace it with all of your ability.

With children: Shower them with so much that the ill affects of the world cannot penetrate the covering thereof.

With friends: Love them over rivers and valleys and through torrential rains, monsoons, and landslides.

With lovers: Never give up. Love is a light that shines in the darkest corners of existence. It can be dimmed, but never put out. Keep feeding the fire...

     Though there are many translations of love, there is really just one language. Listen to it, learn it's fluency, but most importantly: speak it often. 💚

Aluminum-free Deodorant. Diy

Facts: 

-Aluminum is probably bad for your pits.

-it's been linked to breast cancer

-deodorant is expensive 

-some people are allergic to it

Do the research yourself. What do I look like? An encyclopedia? I think not my friend.

If you want to know why deodorant with Aluminum is bad for you...well, that's what Google is for. 👍

Make your own:

Materials:

Baking soda, cornstarch, coconut oil, plastic container and spoon. (Essential oils are optional. Try lavender)

1. Add equal amounts cornstarch and baking soda.

2. Add enough liquid coconut to form a paste.

3. Add essential oils (If desired for fragrance) 

Easy right? No excuse loser!

Tips:

- melt oils by running under warm water. DO NOT HEAT IN MICROWAVE OR ON STOVE TOP UNLESS YOU'D LIKE TO HAVE SKIN GRAFTS IN UOUR IMMEDIATE FUTURE. 

-this will soften In a warm bathroom. 

Anti-stank breath! (Aka fluoride-free toothpaste)

My 10 year old is a militant hippie! (There is a such thing). First she asked if we could take a road trip to Ferguson to protest and then she asked why I was allowing her to use "cancer causing, fluoride- laden, brain eating tooth paste". She then suggested I go back to making our paste so she could graduate. 😁😑.

Who made her?!!!!

Anyhow- I decided she was right because with as much research as I've done on fluoride, combined with the fact that I actually PREFER my own toothpaste, I have no business buying this stuff:

So I got to work and made a fresh batch:

1. Mix equal parts baking soda and coarse Salt (I used table Salt 😁)

2. While coconut oil is warm (In a liquid state) add just enough to make a paste.

3. Add a few drops of stevia (for taste)

4. Mix well. Store in airtight container

*tips*

-this will melt in a hot bathroom

-coconut oil will stain clothes!

-don't be a douche buy heating oils in a microwave or stove. Just run under warm  water.😀 happy brushing suckas!

Crockpot apple butter

Y'all already know I hate cooking. From the bottom of my heart. I do, however, love food! I wanted to make something for my daughters to have instead of syrup with their pancakes and decided that apple butter would be awesome. Instead of standing over a stove (yawn), I decided to follow and easy recipe and throw it all in a crock pot instead! Score!! I didn't have a crock pot though.😔😢

Then: I found a brand new one at the Salvation Army for the low, low, price of 2.99!  Score again! Yay 😊😀

Super easy! 

-pick apples

-wash

-peel

-core

-chop

-toss in crock pot with the spices of your choice (I used, salt, brown sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon,and cloves)  top with water.

-summer until soft (overnight for me)

-remove cloves

-blend smooth 

-bottle and ENJOY!

DIY TIME! Cute anthro lamp tutorial.

Super easy, super short (because I hate long winded tuts)

Cost: 1.50. (No lie)

Time: 15 min (not including paint drying)

Materials: flat white paint, (had some on hand), old lamp (ugly sucker I bought for 1.00), plastic bags (FREE). Ribbon for rosettes (.25), pink shade (.25). Super glue and hot glue (free because I always have them!)

3 easy steps!

1. Make sure the lamp works! (Duh). Then cover the important ish with bags. Paint base white. Dry completely.

2. Apply cute shade.

3. Hot glue rosettes and super glue the broken crap you finally noticed. 

TADA! She's a beaut eh? The girls loved it.💚

The Eleventh Hour

     So many of us quit when life get hard. It's as if we've  been sold this fairy-tale from birth, that teaches us that if we have to take a risk, or struggle, or fight, it's better to simply give up.

     I've seen talented men sit on their gifts because they are too afraid to fail again. I've seen phenomenal woman stop just shy of their goal simply because an outside distraction, obstacle, or issue  made the last few steps seem impossible to take. If the greatest tragedy of life, is to die never having reached your full potential, how then, is it that so many of us fall victim to this tragedy simply because "shit got real"? Life is real, and sometimes, life is just hard.

I have learned this; Anyone can take the next step forward when it is sunny outside. It takes a courageous spirit to take the next step in complete darkness. 

 Where there is courage, there is strength.

 Where there is strength, there is resilience, 

and where those attributes meet, there, lies success.

 No man or woman ever became great any other way.

    So when you are facing your darkest moments, remember that it is merely your opportunity to be amazing. To respond with courage. Don't miss it. Keep going. 💚

Can't cook. Don't wanna. Probably ain't gonna.

     

     Whenever I tell someone (especially someone of the male persuasion) that I really don't cook, I always get a blank stare. It's as if my having a vagina and being a good cook ought to go hand in hand! I often wonder why no one ever asked my father or my brother if they knew how to make a meal...While there are obvious sexist tones to such a question, I want to explore a deeper issue: Why does society need so badly for each of us to fit in to a box?

     Now, please hear me out. I agree that some roles have to be set in families and partnerships. What I disagree with, is the fact that so many people feel the need to dictate those rules for others. EVERY family is different and every situation unique. Round' here, we rarely turn on a stove. We prefer our food (mostly plant based) raw. Unless, of course, bacon is involved. We loooove the hell out of bacon, but I digress. The point is, my children are happy and healthy. They  receive a balanced diet, and have had absolutely no complaints about the way I feed them. (unless I try to actually cook).

     I have tried. A really long try. 3 full years of trying, and I am no better now than the first day I caught the stove on fire. (Yes, that actually happened). Not only am I a bad cook, I absolutely HATE it. I get no pleasure from the act or the results, and in my personal opinion, that's good enough reason to stop. I'm not going to spend the rest of my days striving to cook like my mom. That's just not what I'm good at. 

     I admire a women who can whip up a gourmet meal that her family swoons over, I really do, but the simple truth is: Not every woman is a mini Paula Deen. That doesn't mean that I am any less awesome. 

     I can't make a casserole, but I'm the best cuddler this side of the Mason-Dixon line. I have no idea what goes into a sweet potato pie, but I make a mean PB and J. 

My spaghetti is always sticky, 

my fried chicken; always raw , 

my roasts are undercooked,

and to be perfectly honest with you,

I can barely boil eggs, and guess what?

That's ok.

      I'm convinced that what I lack in kitchen-prowess, I make up for in laughs, hugs, dancing in circles, Sam Cooke records and Love. I'll take that over a grease fire, any day. 💚

     

Less being angry, more being great.

     Clearly, we all know a few people who we'd like to introduce to a wood chipper. It nearly goes without saying, but the whole reason for this post is tell you that the aforementioned bloodshed isn't necessary. Neither is gossip, or unkindness, or anything else that gives idiots,  power in your life. I have a much better solution: Cut Them Loose! Easy, right? It really is. 😊

Do WHATEVER you want.

     

     I have often thought, even in my own life, that the greatest tragedy, is living in fear of what other people think. It one of those human conditions that nearly everyone has experienced and yet, in reality, it simply makes no sense. Why on earth do we shirk our own responsibilities, neglect ourselves, and set aside our own happiness for something as trivial and insignificant as. "What everyone  ELSE might think"?

      WHAT ABOUT YOU? What about what YOU think, what makes YOU happy , and what gives your life purpose? Listen: the world doesn't need another "yes man". The world need people brave enough to be different. Society could do with a few less angry people who have been stiffled by social "norms" and could do WITH a few more people who love themselves enough to have love for the rest of humanity. We need more doers and lovers; less gossipers. We need more resilience and fortitude; less convention and acquiescence. Whatever you do in LOVE is all good. If it makes your soul happy, if it's what you want, if you can't find any reason not to (other than what other people think), do it. 💚

    

    

I'm a thief.

     Yep. You read that right. I admit my sin, but I have absolutely no intention of repenting. I mean, I'm sorry, but not sorry enough to stop. I've stolen from countless friends and family members for years and years. It always starts the same. A trip to the bathroom, an open medicine cabinet, a shower curtain pulled back juuuuust enough...and I'm yanked into a world of scandalous debauchhery. 

     I really have no control! It isn't my fault. I have an addiction not just to the stealing, but to the SINGLE article in question. What could be so alluring, so sensual, so tempting? I'm ashamed to say that for at least the past ten years, I've been taking hair conditioner from any poor soul who dared leave it for me to find. (Insert sincere emotionally dejected face here). 

     I'm sorry if you've been a victim of my thievery. You probably wondered why you're Vidal Sassoon bottle felt lighter than you'd remembered. You may have question the last time you'd purchased your beloved Cantu Shea butter or Ms. Jessie's butter cream. You might have even found yourself questioning how your brand new bottle of Last Call hair Rescue magically opened itself after you brought it home. I'm not saying it was me. I'm just saying that my hair sucks up moisture like Karrine Steffans.  It is what it is. I try to only take just enough but as you probably know, I have enough hair for 4 people. 

     I'd like to repay you the cost of the pilfaged goods but you should also know that that's never going to happen and that the odds are greater that I'll steal your precious hair creme again if given the chance. Maybe you thought this letter was going to be one of redemption, repentance or restitution. I'm afraid it isn't. I just thought it was unfair to keep you thinking that you were insane. Hide your conditioner. You're welcome. 

The box

Stop strangling me. Suffocating me. Let me be whatever I am. I can not fit in your box: it is too small. I cannot be labeled: I am far too slick. 

Let me be whatever I am.

 I am honestly neither male nor female, innocent or vile. I am just ragged, cherished tapestry hanging unabashedly on the masters Great Wall. He put me there knowing that I was torn and broken, mostly because of your carelessness. He knew that I was worn and battered yet he chose to put me on display. He saw that my edges were frayed and splayed like the last bit of neves that I hold in my possession. He knew that I was a frantic display of rainbow threads strewn across blackness, deep and undulating with feverish color.

 There is no one like me. 

Not one thing. 

I haven't an order, family, genus, or species where I belong and I am ok with that. So please, just let me be. If I am good enough to grace the masters wall, why on earth would you not?

An easier life...

"Never wish that life was easier. Wish that you were better."

-Jim Rhon

     Something about this quote really settled deep down in my lady parts y'all! 

Maybe it's because I am mildly obsessed with it's author, or maybe it's because I have been through some pretty tough shit, and have found myself wishing for an "easier life". Whatever the case may be, I think I've been wishing at the wrong well.

     Now don't get me wrong; I'm not a quitter or a weakling. On the contrary: When life has presented me with seemingly insurmountable obstacles, I have persevered until they were, indeed, surmounted. The trouble was, that at the end of a trial, instead  of learning and growing, I often found myself wallowing in the memory of the pain and the struggle. I was left wishing that life had been "fair" and plainly put: easy. 

     I've learned that an easy life is about as realistic as unicorns and fat-free chocolate. Life is tough. Shit happens. Hell, actually sometimes really, really horrible shit happens. We have a choice: We can chose to wallow in self-pity and grief and relish in the never ending daydream of a carefree life, or we can learn from every trial and become stronger. 

     I no longer wish for an easy life. I don't necessarily feel need for any further trauma either (insert nervous laughter) but I know that pain is pressure and pressure creates diamonds. I wish for the fortitude to withstand the pressure to become brilliant. The alternative, is coal dust.