web analytics
Search results for

"homeless"

Ever wonder how to teach good behavior to your child? How to instill kindness and compassion? How to raise a genuinely good person? Do you ever think about how you behave when nobody is looking? I never really did. But then I started noticing the people I love when no one was looking.

You see we live in a world where everyone posts everything they do to social media. It’s normal. I’ve seen people, literally, post every single thing they did throughout the day and where they were; even if that included a bath, a workout, crying, drinking coffee or just sitting around doing nothing. Imagine if they did something noteworthy, then they post in triplicate.

The voyeur in me kind of likes it. But the normal me thinks it’s kind of creepy. The mom in me thinks it’s absolutely insane. I’m convinced foursquare and any other geotagging apps are made by pedophiles and stalkers with the sole purpose of snatching women and children. That would be the overly protective helicopter mom in me, speaking just now.

No, what I am talking about has nothing to do with social media, who is watching or anyone else. What I’m talking about has everything to do with good home training, manners, kindness and being a general, good and thoughtful person.  Anyone can pretend to be generous and good for a second in a selfie but what are they doing when no one is watching?

I’m not a stalker but I do play one to my children and occasionally my husband. Wait, that sounded way creepier than I am. What I mean is I notice them when they think I’m not paying attention.

For example, my big girl goes out of her way to open doors for the elderly, help children and smile at strangers. My little one goes out of her way to pay everyone she meets a sincere compliment. She did it once, saw the smile and she does it constantly now. Ask any person, adult or child she has ever met. She also runs to help our elderly neighbors get their groceries in the house.  And my husband, the Big Guy, he sneaks off when we are at restaurants and takes food to the homeless outside.

For years, teachers and parents would tell me how “kind, sweet” my children were and I shook it off as that’s what people say. That’s what you’re supposed to say. But, now I see it and they’ve made me aware that everything we do should be because we want to treat others in the world as we would like to be treated, then the world would be a kinder, better place.

It’s made me think, how do I behave when no one is watching? Am I the same as when I am consciously aware that someone is watching? I’m a mother, so someone is always watching but I asked myself, would I still do the things I do and say the things I say if no one was watching?

In a world where someone is almost certainly always watching, do you thoughtfully move through the world? Are you good because its the right thing to do, because you know someone might be watching or do you just not care and why or why not?

1 comment
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
Las Vegas, Consumer Electronics Show, Vegas, Tech, CES, #CES2015

Last week, I attended CES! CES!!!! I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life to attend. Just me and about 170,000 other tech junkies descended upon Las Vegas. It was my first time; I was a CES and a Vegas virgin. Talk about go big or go home? WOWZA!

I could go on for days, hell, weeks, writing about this experience but I will start by giving you the jist of what it feels like to attend CES, it’s like climaxing and then despite your better senses continuing on, in that crazed, hyper sensitive, overwhelming feeling of pleasure and pain overload but you still want more….more….more…THAT.IS.CES!

The next thing you know, your feet are on fire, you drank too much at some VIP event because you forgot you weren’t 21, you want all the tech, you’ve been up til 5:30 eastern time every night because you are so jet-lagged. You really don’t know what time it is anymore and then you find yourself so overwhelmed after 3 days of walking in the dessert of lights with that ginormous fucking badge that weighs twelve pounds that you hit a wall (figuratively not literally, though if you are tired enough you might do that too.)

You’ve seen more hookers than you ever have on HBO real sex and Taxi Cab confessions combined, been given directions by a Mexican Elvis who requests a selfie with you and seen and heard gadgets that have blown your mind.

Next thing you know, there you are crying, stranded in the airport in Dallas, your flight’s been cancelled because of “weather” and you were the dumb ass who “voluntarily” checked your carry on because some smiling flight attendant asked politely in Vegas and when you ask the flight attendant in Dallas to help you find your much needed luggage, she rolls her eyes at you (ROLLED.HER.EYES.AT.ME!!), scolds you and turns you into a sniveling, sleep deprived ball of snot in the middle of the Dallas/Fort Worth airport with TSA eyeballing you like you just smuggled in heroine ( or maybe it was that new Vibe selfie flash) in your anal cavity.

Speaking of strange and weird shit happening, as a stranded traveler living my own personal version of Planes, Trains and Automobiles, I ended up in a shuttle with 1) a gentleman from California who happens to be the boss of one of our closest friends from college, who now lives in Colorado but originates from Chicago 2) an ex-lobbyist turned UCLA Poli Sci Professor who has a reoccurring roll on Hawaii 5.0. This trip was all about the surreal.

Finally, around 10 p.m. Texas time, there I was wearing my new scarf as a sarong, in 20-degree weather while washing my panties and yoga pants out in the sink so I had clean clothes to wear the next day. I did this all by hand. A friend told me that MANY people use the in room coffee makers to wash their unmentionables. I didn’t but think twice before you use those to make coffee. That “weird” taste might be someone else’s ass.

Anyways, aside from all the drama of the flight home, CES is awesome. Being that it was my first time there are some things that I wished I would have known going in, so I am sharing them here with you. Yes, I will get to all the really, cool shit I saw tomorrow.

 

  • Wear Comfortable shoes. Repeat after me…WEAR.COMFORTABLE. SHOES! Save your cute shoes for nighttime events. Wearing cute heels to CES means that you are either certifiable, dead from the waist down or a hooker. Go away, P.S. even TOMS can wreak havoc on the feet of sensitive soles. Let’s just say, I somehow managed a blister the size of my baby toe on top and on bottom of said baby toe. I was crippled, people. Gym Shoes, UGGs, Frye Boots, COMFORT PEOPLE but please NO CROCS ALLOWED. If you wear crocs the homeless people will make fun of you.
  • Register early to avoid fees.
  • Pick your badge up at the airport, the line is quicker than at the hotels. But if you are PRESS ( as I was) go to the PRESS kiosk or you may find that your badge was given to someone named Donald.
  • Cabs are expensive and traffic is horrible in Vegas. Take the shuttles. It’s $8 one way or $14 round trip. Very cost effective.
  • If you are a single woman who is looking for love with a nerdy, highly intelligent, somewhat wealthy, possibly a gamer, with a great BIG sexy brain… this is your heaven. The men outnumber the women about 9 to 1. STEM PEOPLE. This needs to be a priority with our girls.
  • Have a plan. Vegas is huge and there were 170,000 attendees and 3600 booths. You do the math. There is no way you can cover every booth in 5 days. It’s not possible. Make a plan.
  • Forget about passing out your cards. This is not a blog conference. Get cards. Give cards if asked or if there is a spot to leave them.
  • Network at events and smaller venues. You are not going to stand out at CES unless you are naked or wearing crocs. Wait, I stand corrected, you are not going to stand out at CES unless you are wearing crocs.
  • Walk the strip. You have to. It’s beautiful at night. Also, #Highroller. It’s bigger than the London eye and the view is not only natural it is fucking spectacular!
  • Schedule down time. I am serious, if you do not, you will hit a wall and end up in your room in the middle of the day in your pjs, eating a slice and taking a nap against your own will. P.S. It’s really hard to network when you are delirious from sleep deprivation.
  • Also, speaking of naps, get some sleep. I’m one of those people who physically get ill after a certain point of no sleep. I have insomnia so my threshold is pretty high but if I stay up past 3:30 a.m., I will literally get nauseated. I guess my body decides it’s had enough and it’s shutting down.
  • Don’t over schedule yourself. I made the rookie mistake of making lots of booth tour appointments. I was just so flattered to be asked but I will tell you, then you find yourself rushing around and not enjoying things. CES is all about flexibility; you need to be able to spend time where you find your interests.

My takeaway, have a plan but be flexible. Wear comfortable shoes and clothing that you can stay comfortable in for 12 + hours. Be prepared to walk because I walked about 15,000 steps every day I was there. Be spontaneous. There are so many cool gadgets and tech and people that you never know where the day might take you and if you have the option, take a friend. Life’s never quite so overwhelming when you have someone with you to help you conquer the world.

If you love playing with gadgets like I do or just love being in the tech know, when given the chance attend CES. It is awesome. Come back tomorrow and I will tell you all about the great new tech gadgets coming out this year.

Were you at CES this year, if so what was your favorite new gadget?

2 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
what is commuter marriage, commuter marriage, living apart, the toll of work travel on a marriage, married and single, single parenting

You’ve all seen me write about it but maybe you’re wondering what is Commuter Marriage?  As I stand on the front stoop watching my husband pull away for the 17th Sunday, bound for his hole he calls an apartment in Iowa, my throat closes up and I feel like I will be swallowed completely by the huge lump in my esophagus and my eyes burn and sting as they get a little watery.

I watch my girls run down the sidewalk waving and screaming , “Bye Daddy, I love you!” and my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces inside. Every week it stings my very core; every single time. Sometimes worse than others, but always. I really loathe all this single mothering that I’ve been doing lately but more than that I hate that we are all getting used to it, comfortable even.

What is commuter marriage? It’s hard on the family.

The girls are getting used to not having Daddy around, and I am getting used to handling things on my own, and sometimes when he’s here, I think he feel’s like he is out of place in his own home. That is what really bothers me. Isn’t this how people drift apart? Isn’t this how families fall apart? I love my husband, and he loves me but if you get used to not having someone around, pretty soon won’t you stop missing one another?

When your husband travels for work, it’s not consistent and it’s random and you learn to deal with it by looking forward to the next time he returns. But when your husband has a residence in a whole other state for a job because his office is there and you KNOW he will be gone for at least 4 of the days of the week, it’s a little harder to swallow.

There is no room for superfluous personal days or no chance of no travel because every week you know, come Sunday afternoon..he’s pulling away and you are left behind on that damn stoop and he’s left watching you grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

I thought being married meant someone to share my life with. Recently, I feel more like I am a kept woman; a lonely one at that. I have someone to pay the bills. We’re getting to the point where we are forgetting to tell each other the little things that happen in our day to day and that scares me. Pretty soon we won’t know each other. I can deal with geographic distance but not emotional distance. I mean, I never thought I’d be married and alone.

What is Commuter Marriage? It’s being married but alone.

What do I do? Do I tell him to quit and come home because I need my friend, my partner, my husband? Or do I just keep going on ignoring the fact that this is really hard and slowly becoming impossible? Some days, I am okay with it. Other days, I can hardly bear it.I am lonely and I miss our relationship. The day to day, seeing each other, talking about nothing, sharing laughs and feelings, stolen glances and touches. Now, everything is forced into a weekends time and it’s not enough.

I feel like such an ungrateful asshole. I know I should be filled with gratitude that he has a job at all in this economy but it’s extremely hard when you’ve spent every day of the past 13 years with this man and suddenly you are living separate lives. I know he is just as lonely there but some days I feel overwhelmed with all the responsibility of holding it all together. Some days, it is just too much.But what do you do when you have bills to pay and kids to feed, mortgages, groceries, and school loans? You suck it up, you be a grown-up, you get out of the fetal position, stop crying and stand on that damn stoop and wave goodbye and hope its not for the last time. Commuter marriage is not for the weak.

What is commuter marriage?

It’s survival and groceries and mortgages. It’s not being homeless. It’s saying goodbye more often than you ever dreamed. Have you or would you ever be in a commuter marriage and make it work?

24 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
Super Bowl, immigrant, immigration, Mexico, border, the wall, Desierto

Ever wonder why an immigrant, illegal or otherwise, really comes to the United States willing to risk his life? Maybe that question is too big, maybe we narrow it down, ever wonder why my dad came to the United States? Contrary to popular belief, it’s not to take anything from you.It’s more about admiration of the freedoms we have and the will to succeed; to achieve the American dream. The freedom to work hard and get ahead in life.

Then ask yourself, if you were desperate, and your child’s life depended on you doing something dangerous, would you do it? What if it were illegal? What if you needed to fast track things in order to save a life? Would you do it? I think we all know the answer is yes. we’d do anything for our children.

I’ve heard a lot of discussions online about immigrants and why many Americans don’t want immigrants here in the United States. People are talking about immigrants like they are not humans but has anyone ever just asked a real, live immigrant,

Super Bowl, immigrant, immigration, Mexico, border, the wall, Desierto

Hey, immigrant why are you here?

If you are not an immigrant, or the son or daughter of an immigrant, or the friend or loved one of an immigrant, maybe you just don’t know and I’m sure it is different for every single person. But I’m happy to share with you my immigrant story. How this freckled Mexican was born on the right side of the wall.

I’ve been quick to judge all of you. I was only seeing things from my perspective, the daughter of an immigrant; a first generation Mexican-American. I never even considered that there are actually people who don’t even personally know any Mexicans. They know of us, apparently our reputation precedes us, but they don’t “know us”; know us.

Super Bowl, immigrant, immigration, Mexico, border, the wall, Desierto

They’ve not grown up with us; eaten dinner at our home, been welcomed by my interracial couple parents and been kissed on the cheek and treated like family. They’ve not had the pleasure of hearing my dad, in his thick Spanish accent, look them in the eye, give them a firm hand shake ( even the most down trodden of our neighbors) and say, “Good to see you, buddy!” Never seen the way family is more than the people you share a last name with; never been willing to risk everything for those people.

They’ve never heard my dad sing Happy Birthday, Las Mananitas and You are my sunshine to my daughters every birthday or seen him grab them and start dancing with them whenever he hears music. They’ve never seen his giant smile and the way he says, “Sonofagun” any time his grandchildren do almost anything because he is so in awe of them.

They don’t know that my dad used to bring homeless people home for dinner that he’d see on his walk home from mass. My mom wasn’t too keen on this practice but that’s the type of guy he is. When he wants to, he’ll give you the jacket off his back if you need it more than he does. He’s the man who wore sunglasses when he walked me down the aisle so no one would see him cry, when he gave me away.

Don’t get me wrong, if you’re a long time reader of this blog you know that my dad is not perfect. He’s made mistakes but he’s also never been a drug dealer, a rapist or a murderer.

He simply falls into the immigrant category because he was born someplace else.

immigrant, hero

He’s the kind of man who has played the guitar in the church choir since I was a kid. He’s the guy who stopped drinking and now, devotes most of his retirement to not only staying sober but keeping others sober. But he is Mexican. He’s lived in the United States longer than he ever lived there. This is his home but Mexico is where he was born. Mexico is where part of my roots begin.

When all of the political mudslinging started during the campaign, I felt personally attacked because my dad is an immigrant and even though he is not perfect, he has always been a contributing member of society and he raised us to work hard, trust in God and respect our government.

Just because someone is an immigrant, doesn’t mean they are a bad person.

It just means they weren’t born here. They chose to come here. They choose America.

He’s a good man; a good Christian man who reads the bible daily, who has been married to the same woman for 44 years, who has raised 6 children and paid taxes to a country that he loves. The kind of man who plays in the sprinkler with his grandchildren. The kind of man who doesn’t want fame and fortune, he only wanted to be able to give his unborn children a better life than he had; maybe a house without dirt floors, maybe a life where the struggle wasn’t so real.

When people bad mouth immigrants, I take it personally. I feel like the country and the government that my dad loves so much, that we’ve been raised to believe is the best in the world, hated him simply for the color of his skin and by association me, my brothers and sisters and our children; the most precious thing in our lives; family.

The will to succeed is always welcome here.

Those were the words at the end of the Lumber 84, full 6-minute commercial, the one thought to be too controversial for a commercial during the Super Bowl. Those words spoke to me because I was raised by an immigrant who taught me to believe in myself and to know that where there is a will, there is always a way. My father is legal, but is that really relevant to the man he is?

That is all that my immigrant father wanted. The chance to be a member of our society; a chance to give his children a better life. He doesn’t hate Americans. He loves everything about this country. So what are we all so afraid of?

There’s been some confusion about the true meaning behind this commercial. I saw it as a beautiful thing but it seems I didn’t realize that a mother and daughter making their way to a better life is only beautiful if you come through the door. If you can’t find the door, I guess you’re just supposed to give up and live the life you’re doomed to live and I guess, according to Lumber 84, we’re all supposed to be okay with that.

Tomorrow, Desierto is released on DVD, I highly recommend that you watch it then maybe you’ll see why immigrants are more afraid of you than you should be afraid of them.

What’s the difference between the European immigrants that founded this country hundreds of years ago and the Mexican and Muslim immigrants who are trying to make a better life for their children now, besides the color of their skin? Then again, I guess it’s always been hard for immigrants.

What is the difference between an immigrant and you or I, besides a piece of paper?

35 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
weight loss

*Change anyone?* It’s that time of year again. You know what ‘m referring to, no not back-to-school, that was Monday. It’s a little over a month until my birthday and you know that can only mean ONE thing…mental, physical and spiritual inventory must be taken. This is my process so this morning I had my first ( of what will be many, many) come to Jesus meetings over the next year. I had it with Jose. No, it’s not some nickname we Latinos have for the almighty, it’s my little brother who is one ( as I found out the hard way this morning) hardcore, ass kicking personal trainer.Seriously, it’s his profession. I knew that he knew how to take care of himself, obviously. He’s always been in top physical shape since he was old enough to lift his first dumbbell. But we’ve never lived in the same city. Now, we do. This is Jose.

[fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”]

change

This is Jose. This is 200 lbs. of badass personal training in a 160 lb. bag of cuteness.I think the photo says it all *Charming*

He who rejects change is the architect of decay~Harold Wilson

Doesn’t he look sweet? That’s what I thought. What you are looking at, my friends, is my salvation ( physically speaking anyways). Two years ago, we moved to a new city. My life hit the reset button. I joined Weight Watchers and lost 25 pounds. Life was good. Then the Big Guy was downsized. Life was not so good.I had to quit the program and since I am very apparently a stress eater, I ate those 25 pounds right back on and with them came a few more. I was depressed about it. Former eating disorder girl say what. It’s really hard trying to stay the straight and narrow when what you are doing is so NOT working. But I do. I fight the urge every day to seek the comfort of the path that I know. I fight to be a good example for my girls. I fight to be the change I want to see in the world for the young girls today. I want to be better than my circumstances.

Then last year, right smack dab in the middle of the whole commuter marriage fiasco, I was offered an amazing opportunity to be a Nutrisystem Nation Blogger. Again, I lost that 20 pounds and felt amazing. But then life started spinning out of control again. Then we had to put the house on the market, we were going to be moving and I was stressed beyond capacity. There was my old friend ( arch nemesis) food to comfort away the uncertainty. That is if comfort means to bury it deep down and surround it by a giant hug of fat. But the only uncertainty it remedied was the uncertainty of whether or not I would gain back those 20 pounds again. Guess what? I did! What can I say those damn 20 pounds llloooovvvveeee me! Me, not so much feeling that love.

If you don’t like something change it; if you can’t change it, change the way you think about it.  ~Mary Engelbreit

That brings us to this morning. We are moved. I am hitting the reset again. Hopefully for the last time for a long time. I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I am happy. I know it. I feel it in my very core ( well, that and a terrible side stitch that I haven’t been able to shake since my brother boot-camp). I have committed myself to the drill Sargent my little brother and made a promise to myself…I will feel comfortable in this skin of mine.Body dysmorphic disorder and Bulimia/Anorexia can all be damned. I’m not having it, ever again. With the  help of my brother, the MOST invested, no nonsense personal trainer that anyone could ever ask for, fueled by a genuine concern and love for his sister, the next year will bring about huge change. I have a goal that I want to hit by my birthday next year and he is going to help me reach my goal. This is one of those moments in life where you are standing at a cliff and you have to decide if you want to take a chance and jump or maintain the status quo. I’m jumping! After this week, I may not be walking but I am jumping.

[/fusion_builder_column][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”]

change

We're going to call this the official BEFORE photo. I'll allow you to see me a sweaty mess but sweaty ponytail, no makeup and luggage under my eyes..A girl's got to maintain some tiny dignity:)

This journey is about more than just losing weight. It is about changing my entire lifestyle..forever. It’s no diets or gimmicks, it’s me facing the mirror and taking a good hard look at myself. It’s hard work personal training with my brother and learning to make good, healthy choices with real food. It’s me learning to live in the world. It’s me learning to love my body for all that it is and none of what it’s not. This is me, yelling it from the top of the cliff. I am proclaiming it to the world. It will happen. And this time when the first 25 pounds comes off, I’m giving all the clothes that are too big to the homeless shelter.I will do it every 25 pounds until all I am left with are the clothes that fit who I become.

My change starts right now

[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

9 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
turning 40. surviving 40

When I was turning 40, I had been warned ad naseum about how my body was going to give me a great big “FUCK YOU” and I took it with a grain of salt because, let’s face it, I am a stubborn broad and you can’t tell me anything and for the love of Pete, please don’t tell me that I CAN’T do something because chances are that I will do it…JUST TO PROVE YOU WRONG. Seriously, it is a disease with me.

Anyways, bossy, stubborn bitch aside that I can be, I really didn’t believe there was a magical age at which your body just shuts down and it’s all down hill. Plus, I refuse to believe that my middle age is 40. Fuck that noise, I am living to 105. So middle age can kiss my ass until I am around 53.

Sometimes, life sneak attacks you, ninja style and that is kind of what has been happening. There was no giant weight gain. Come on, I’ve been gaining weight steadily since the great exodus of eating disorders in 1997 and the introduction of mood stabilizers in 2000. It was a combo for body disaster. Then I got pregnant and started raising babies and my life, in its entirety, became a steady, uncontrollable run away train. It’s just how I was function.

Little to no sleep, everyone’s needs put before my own, eating terribly, exercising seldomly and losing all sense of fashion and self. I essentially got to the place of overloaded, overwhelmed and barely functioning but I thought it was okay because, in the end, I was functioning. I made concessions here and there and lowered my standards. Life essentially beat the crap out of me and left me for dead…in fucking yoga pants, a ponytail and about 75 pounds overweight.

Sure, I tried to bring back the feisty broad that I once was…several times. Clear! I was putting the paddle to the sad little broad’s life but nothing. Sure, there’d be a revelation here and there and I’d start working out or watching what I ate, coloring my hair and actually treating myself like a human and then something would break, funds would get tight and there I went to the wayside again. It’s embarrassing to let yourself go, especially when you used to be proud of who you were; what you were; what you looked like and your tenacity. You begin to feel like you had it all and you let it slip through your fingers and then you feel guilty because look at what you have instead…your children. Sure, you look like a homeless fatty but damn it, you are a good mother. But are you? Really?

How great of a mom can I be if I look defeated at 41? What kind of example am I? Then on top of all of that, I noticed my hair falling out by the handfuls every time I showered (Stress is a cruel bitch), crows feet just waiting to delve even deeper, my skin is a desolate dessert, my hair is not only starting it’s own gray hair club the rest of my hair is taking on a texture that can only be described as witchy; it looks like the curls and the straight parts got into a fight and no one won. Plus, my eyelids and my boobs are a little lower and my skin looks decidedly less smooth. Plus, there is the overweight issue. The issue being that I yo-yo between starving, dieting and eating whatever the hell I want. ALL these are bad for me, especially since apparently, metabolism has taken an early retirement.

So I am doing research. I will not go gently into that good night of middle age. I want to look like I grew old gracefully but there is nothing graceful about the knock-down, drag out fight that mother nature and I are about to have.

Here are some tips that make turning 40 awesome:

Vaseline is a miracle cure for dry feet. I am not joking. Take a shower, wash your feet, get out, pat those feet well and slather them with Petroleum Jelly an then put on plain white cotton socks. Within 2 days I turned my pterodactyl talons into smooth baby feet. But you have to keep it up or the crypt keeper feet will come back.

Wen is a awesome. Yep, I saw all the infomercials but didn’t believe it. I wasn’t sure that I would feel clean without lather but let me tell you my crazy hair is getting prettier and prettier every day and more importantly I am only losing 5-10 hairs per shower versus the handfuls I was losing. Now, Wen won’t do shit for your grays so you’ll have to get a good stylist and colorist. Go on, do it. You are worth it. Make time and take care of those grays.

Moisturize like your face depends on it because it does. Sure, you need to keep your entire body moisturized because if not you’ll eventually get all ashy and itchy and that’s not cute but if you don’t moisturize your face, you will get wrinkles and look like the damn crypt keeper by the time you are 60. If that doesn’t scare you straight, I don’t know what will. Crow’s feet and laugh lines may be natural and some even tolerable but an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of botox.

Get up and move. I don’t care what you do as long as you are moving. I sit on my ass all day working and my ass looks like it. It’s not being 40 that made metabolism take early retirement; it’s sitting on my ass doing nothing physical. My metabolism gave up on me. The good news is that going from sitting on your ass to any movement at all is going to be an improvement.

Get your sleep. You know people say, “I can sleep when I am dead. YOLO!” Well, as a grown woman who has terrible insomnia and a predilection for mania, I can tell you that sleep is way more valuable to your happiness than your YOLO attitude. Not saying not to live outloud but you can be a lot more lively and vivacious if you get at least 7 hours of sleep, plus you will feel better and people will like to be around you. YOLO is for 21 year olds who haven’t lived life yet. They are too stupid to know what they are saying is complete bullshit. Now, go take a fucking nap.

Wiggle it just a little bit…or a lot. Have sex with your husband, as much as you like. Look, I hear that menopause brings with it some vaginal dryness so girl, you better go get your groove on before you have to buy stock in KY lubricants just to do the deed. Besides, I don’t know about you but if I go more than a week without sex, I get grouchy. Seriously, like I want to punch people in the face grouchy. Have fun. It’s not so serious. This man loves you. Sex and giggling go together perfectly, as long as you’re not doing it anywhere near his penis. That’s grounds for divorce.

All things in moderation. Eat healthy and be happy. Look, I have been slowly but surely eating myself into not just obesity but unhealthiness. I have fallen into the terrible habit of eating processed shit and sugar and not near enough fruits and veggies. That’s all changing. I feel miserable and look terrible by my own standards. So, I am stepping out of my comfort zone and I am going to try to supplement my daily food intake with some juicing. Thanks Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead for scaring the shit out of me.  Anyways, I’ll keep you posted on how all this goes. Just remember, turning 40 is not turning dead. You’ve got this. You are fucking awesome. Now, go show those damn 30 year olds what a real woman looks like:) Never you mind her pregnancy glow.

Shit, is this my midlife crisis? When do I get my sports car and start flirting with 25 year olds? Who am I kidding? A 25-year-old has nothing on the Big Guy.

What’s your best advice to anyone turning 40?

4 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
unexpected, family, life, change

 

unexpected, family, life, change

Last week, the Big Guy had an unexpected job interview. Unexpected because he loves the job he has, it’s his dream job. The past three years have been insanely chaotic for our family. I started this blog, the spring that my husband first had to leave us for a job; my daughters we’re 2 and 4. They are currently, almost 5 and 7. Many of you know the story of our two-year commuter marriage and all the upheaval that has come with that. The moving, the separation, the hurt and finally, the reunion, we have survived as a family. It’s been really hard.

9 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
wayfair, resolutions in decor, room makeover, How to Refresh a Room to Inspire Change

I don’t really do New Year’s resolutions but I do try to set goals, aspirations. I want a clear-cut line in the sand of a life that I am working towards and that’s what I do. Every year, I take stock, pencil in a trajectory and set sail on a new year.

This year one of my goals in organization. But I don’t mean organized spice racks and alphabetized books. No, I mean clean and easy to navigate. I guess for me, organized means streamlined and minimalism. I like clean lines and fresh, crisp rooms. I want my home to be open to possibilities.

wayfair, resolutions in decor, room makeover, How to Refresh a Room to Inspire Change

For me, one of the first rooms that I want to spruce up this year is my living room. Aside from the kitchen, it’s the room on the first floor that gets the most activity. If the kitchen is the heart of our home, the living room has to be the brain. It’s the room we always use and the one that makes the first impression on our guests.

What does that mean? It means that I really want to get rid of the excess and brighten up the rooms. How am I going to do this? How can you do this? Simple.

  1. Start by getting rid of “stuff”. It’s just stuff and it just takes up space. Like the book says, if you hold it and it doesn’t bring you joy…chuck it. OK, so don’t throw it in the garbage, that’s wasteful but why not go donate it to your local homeless shelter. You’ll clean out your space while giving someone else something they need. It is win-win.
  2. Turner Home has the best selection of High End Furniture in Jacksonville. My furniture is brown leather. It is beautiful and sturdy but it’s too dark. I want light colors and preferably something that doesn’t scratch up every time the dog jumps on it. She obviously thinks that she is human and it’s too late to teach her otherwise so the furniture needs to adapt. I don’t want to buy new furniture because this furniture was expensive and is still in very good shape. I’ve decided that slipcovers might be the perfect solution. They’ve come a long way since the things our parents used and they look beautiful.

wayfair, resolutions in decor, room makeover, How to Refresh a Room to Inspire Change       3. So, I’ve cleaned off the clutter and ordered some beautiful, modern slipcovers but I need to brighten up the room. My house was built in 1977 so there is a lot of dark wood, paneling, shag carpet, and wallpaper. We’ve already ripped up all the floors and put down hardwoods throughout. Next step, paint those horrible brown wood built-ins white. Done and done.

wayfair, resolutions in decor, room makeover, How to Refresh a Room to Inspire Change

4. We painted the paneling, yes I did say paneling, a soft butter color and removed the dark window treatments and replaced them with lightweight drapery to allow more sunlight into the room. We are however in the middle of changing the room to lighten it up even further and changing from the soft butter color to a silver on the walls.

wayfair, resolutions in decor, room makeover, How to Refresh a Room to Inspire Change

5. To give the room a homier feel, I would suggest adding soft, bright throw pillows and an accent pouf to give the room some movement.

wayfair, resolutions in decor, room makeover, How to Refresh a Room to Inspire Change    6. To add a touch of your own unique personality and make the room your own, I suggest adding some very personally styled art for the walls. Choose something that inspires you and makes you feel happy.

wayfair, resolutions in decor, room makeover, How to Refresh a Room to Inspire Change

7. Last but not least, a great way to make the room feel modern yet cozy is to add a light colored throw rug; something in a white, neutral or light grey will do the trick.

wayfair, resolutions in decor, room makeover, How to Refresh a Room to Inspire Change

And voila, we’ve gone from 70’s drab right into 2018 modern and chic with lots of bright sunlight. For a little extra coziness, I’m adding one of those super soft chunky yarn blankets.

wayfair, resolutions in decor, room makeover, How to Refresh a Room to Inspire Change

Now, if we can just keep those shelves clean.

What are you doing to your home that will keep you inspired to follow through on your New Year’s resolutions? Cleaned up your office? Installed mirrors in the workout room? Or maybe you organized your pantry to help keep you on a budget?

1 comment
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
starbucks, red cups, #MerryChristmasStarbucks, Christianity, coffee, Christianity

I don’t drink Starbucks coffee that often because honestly, it usually tastes a little burnt and I prefer my Nespresso but the other day, on the way to physical therapy we stopped in for a chai latte and I noticed the cup was red which to me signaled my brain that it was the start of the holiday season.

A couple days later I saw a video that was being circulated around the Internet, Joshua Feuerstein, an Arizona-based evangelist who describes himself as a “social media personality,” was up in arms because the cup was too minimalist for his liking.He posted on his Facebook page that this year’s spartan red cup illustrated Starbucks’ dismissal of Christmas as a Christian holiday in favor of political correctness. He went on to crack jokes and decided to fight against the “war on Christmas” by giving his name as “Merry Christmas” when ordering. To really stick it to “the man” he wore his Jesus shirt and carried his concealed weapon into Starbucks. (I found that part the most offensive and scary myself).

In the video, Feuerstein says that Starbucks “wanted to take Christ and Christmas off of their brand new cups. That’s why they’re just plain red.” Feuerstein said that instead of boycotting the coffee chain, he wanted to start a “movement,” so he went into a Starbucks–with his gun, as Arizona has an open-carry law and Starbucks has not outright banned firearms–ordered a hot drink, and told the barista that his name was “Merry Christmas,” which was subsequently scribbled on his red cup.

“So guess what, Starbucks? I tricked you into putting Merry Christmas on your cup,” Feuerstein said in his video. He urged his Facebook followers to do the same. The video has been watched about 12 million times and nearly 500,000 people have shared it.

Anyways, the video and verbiage in it made me feel like maybe the entire thing was a marketing stunt on Starbucks’ behalf, honestly. Anyways, I carried on and then I began to see all sorts of social media posts about some people being outraged that “Christmas” had been removed from Starbucks and then the rest of the people were outraged that the Christians were outraged. It quickly escalated to religious persecution by way of making a mountain out of a molehill.

Me, I am a Christian of what some might say is the worst kind, a Catholic, and this is what I think. If you don’t like Starbucks’ cups or you feel that they are stepping on your right to religious freedom, don’t buy their coffee. Don’t give them your money if you are so offended. But what I don’t say is to get over it because if it bothers you and is important to you, then draw your line in the sand. Mine however is not over coffee cups. That, my friends, is not the deciding factor to my ever-lasting salvation. I get my religion at mass and at home, I don’t need it on my coffee cup for validation.

On the other hand, if you feel that you can tell the Christians to get over their butt hurt over the cups, I hope you are not one of those ridiculous people who enjoy the benefit of all the Christmas holiday rituals (and time off) but don’t actually believe in or celebrate the birth of Jesus (yes, I already know that is not his actual birthday. I have the History channel.) P.S. A holiday tree is not a real thing people. It’s a Christmas tree. You can’t have your anti-Christian beliefs and celebrate Christmas too. Well, you can but then that makes you kind of an asshole.It’s like pretending to be homeless for the free food.

Like it or not, Christmas is a religious observance holiday and if you don’t believe in the religion then you shouldn’t be celebrating the holiday. If you want to celebrate the winter solstice or whatever, fine but it’s not Christmas so lets not pretend that we are celebrating the same thing. Celebrating “Christmas” and not being a Christian is the same as having a quincinera and not being a 15-year-old Latina girl or having a Bat Mitzvah and not being Jewish. These are religious celebrations. Christmas (not Winter Solstice) is a religious celebration.

So while you’re making fun of the Christians being up in arms over their coffee cups, I’ll be over here at drop off sipping my Chai Latte minding my own business. And if anyone wants to wish me a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah or Happy Kwanza I will happily accept it because even though I may not celebrate all of those holidays, I do accept well wishes and good tidings from all. I will smile and I will thank you because I don’t think you are trying to convert me. In my mind, you are saying, “Debi, live long and prosper!”

Are red cups worth getting upset over to me? No. It’s a cup, people. But if it really offends you, you have every right to not buy your coffee from Starbucks and I can respect that because I am an adult and as long as you’re not making the decisions for me, it’s not my business.

When did we start living in a world where people feel like they have to run every single thought, word and coffee cup design through a filter before they say it out loud? Stop that. I’d rather I know you, the real you, no matter who you are than only know some diluted, politically correct version of you. By over thinking every single word that comes out of our mouth, we are diminishing any hope of establishing true human connections.

Be happy, people. Just be yourself and let others be.

Do you find the Starbucks Red Cups offensive and why?

0 comment
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail
karma,Starbucks, starbucks effect, random acts of kindness,kindness

Have you ever heard of the Starbucks effect?

I’m not referring to the theory that Starbucks will boost the price of your home, but that is a thing. I’m talking about the kindness of strangers.

“Do unto others as you would have them to do unto you,” it’s the Golden rule. I’ve heard it since I was a little child. It boils down to this… put out into the world what you want to get back. It’s karma for those so inclined.

In my 20’s I was self-centered, everything was about me. When I got married, I had my first experience of occasionally putting someone else’s needs and wants before my own. Then I had children and putting others before myself has become my full-time job.

Over the years, I’ve found myself doing more good but still that selfish little voice in my head kept asking, “When’s it my turn? When will someone do something nice for me?” I just sort of got tired of always giving of myself. Now that I think of it, I wasn’t giving so much as having it taken. I did nice things because I felt it was expected.

Then my perspective of the world changed, we moved to Chesterfield, VA and I was on the receiving end of several random acts of kindness from complete strangers. These women changed my perception of the world. For the first time, aside from my parents, someone was doing something kind for me with absolutely no expectation. It was so out of my ordinary that at first, I was suspicious. What did they really want?

I decided, then and there, that while I cannot control how someone else responds or reacts to my kindness or goodwill, I would live by the good rule because I’m responsible for my behavior. I can put all the good I want into the world but I had to let go of my expectation that the others would reciprocate, care or even appreciate my act.

Then, I had an epiphany. Who cares if they don’t appreciate it? I feel good when I do good so I’m doing good. I let go of the whole idea of putting good out there so good would come back to me and then it did.

I believe that our simple acts of kindness that we do throughout the day, they cause ripples and eventually we get caught in the tide of our own ripples so next time you find yourself deciding whether you should take an extra second to hold the door for a stranger, smile back at someone for no reason at all, give a dollar to a homeless person or share on an opportunity or helpful advice with someone who you think might be a good fit or need it, just do it. Don’t over think it. You can’t control what others do with the gifts you give but you can take joy in knowing you cared enough to give the gift and tried to help someone else.

I know everyone says this and I know many of us don’t immediately see the effects of our good deeds and that may leave you wondering, why bother? Let me tell you a little story.

I once received a cup of coffee in one of those Starbucks lines, when the person ahead of me paid for my latte. It was the first time this had ever happened to me and I had no idea this was a “thing” or that there was a “protocol”, so I took my latte, said thank you and was happy for the rest of the day. The more I thought of it, I realized that I should have paid it forward and bought the person’s behind me. It was what was probably expected.

Last week, I finally paid it forward. I ordered my Oprah Chia Latte, pulled up to pay and then said, “ I’d like to pay for the person behind me too!” Then I looked in my rearview mirror, and saw it was another mom. She looked exhausted and I saw myself in her. I pulled away feeling good. I felt good for rest of my day and it only cost me $4.50. I mean, who knew happiness was so damn cheap? I’m hoping that my simple gesture brightened her day, at the very least I saved her $5.00, right?

The thing is last week I got 3 new freelance jobs and scheduled an interview for another job. Maybe it was coincidence but I’d like to think that my little ripple has caught me in its tide. I put out into the world what I wanted so, guess what I did this morning (what I will be doing every Monday morning)? I bought another person a cup of coffee and I saw her smile in my rearview mirror when she pulled up to the window and she didn’t have to pay and THAT made my day. If I can brighten someone else’s day by such a simple gesture, why wouldn’t I do it every single time I can?

What random acts of kindness do you do when no one is looking?

I get that buying Starbucks for someone won’t change the world,  but it might change someone’s day and that’s enough reason for me.

 

3 comments
0 FacebookTwitterPinterestLinkedinStumbleuponEmail

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept Read More