Well, I did it. I survived NaBloPoMo 2013. I honestly can’t believe that this is the last post because it seems like yesterday I was only a week in, and telling my roommate that I couldn’t imagine lasting three more weeks.
This is how I feel on the inside right now:
Winner winner chicken dinner
Would I do it again? To answer that I’ll need to do a recap.
I’m a very straightforward person. I don’t blow smoke, and if you ask me for my honest opinion I’ll give it to you. I always exercise tact, but I never exercise kissass-ery.
“You were being kind of bitchy.”
That’s what a manager told me after a brainstorming session years ago. Someone had suggested a marketing initiative that was not only outdated, but completely out of tune with our core audience. I said as much; apparently I had offended a few people’s delicate sensibilities in the process.
I was flabbergasted when he took me aside and accused me of bitchery in the first degree. This was the same manager who had completely lot his shit on several occasions, acting completely unprofessionally towards his subordinates. He prided himself on “getting results” and asserted that it sometimes meant “stepping on peoples toes…hard.”
The majority of my career has been spent in Sales which I don’t recommend unless you like being surrounded by people who suffer from delusions of grandeur. It’s a male-dominated field predicated on having a commanding presence, and a “do what you have to do” approach. Continue reading
Credit: Writer’s Digest
I don’t remember the first time I thought, “Hey, I’d like to write.” Some people have a specific incident they can point to as the exact moment they decided to become a writer. Truthfully, I think writing chose me.
I remember lying in the grass during summers at my grandparents’ house, staring up at the clouds and noticing them taking shape. I’d see dinosaurs, faces, hearts and bears. The idea that I may be the only one experiencing this kind of magic made me feel lonely. I desperately wanted to share what I was seeing with another person.
In junior high, our class read the book Where the Red Fern Grows together. We had to read some parts at home, and some parts were read aloud in class. The ending is quite sad, and I remember looking around the room and seeing my classmates crying. The idea that we were all sharing the same emotion, just because of a book, made a huge impact on me.
As I got older, books really began to give gave me a way to understand the world around me. I loved nonfiction, or fictional works which were (or seemed like they could be) based on true stories. I wanted to know about life, about real life. I understood that there were things happening outside of my very small world, and I wanted to know about all of them. Continue reading
Have you ever felt like something (a thought, an idea, a situation) kept popping up all around you? I believe in the power of The Universe. I believe it’s always trying to guide us, and I believe in its infinite wisdom.
Recently I’ve been confronted with a series of situations and conversations centered around the idea of being undeserving. With one person it was being undeserving of success, with a few others it was being undeserving of happiness.
Tabula Rasa is a Latin phrase roughly translating to “blank slate.” It is the philosophical idea that humans are born with empty minds, and it is only through perception and experience that they gain knowledge. Basically, we’re all empty canvases when we’re born, and that canvas gets scribbled on throughout our lives. Continue reading
I know it’s hard to believe, but there was a time in my life when I cared about what I looked like. I wore nice clothes, carefully painted my face with makeup, and even managed to brush my hair daily. Obviously those days are long gone.
100% real picture of me from this morning
There was also a time when I did juice cleanses because I cared about health or something like that. A juice cleanse is when you only drink liquids for a certain period of time as a way to
kickstart an eating disorder remove toxins from your body. It’s also a great test to see how long you can go without eating before seriously considering robbing someone at gunpoint for a piece of pizza.
While the cleanses themselves were often different, the outcomes of them were always the same.
I wasn’t going to do NaBloPoMo this year. I did my own
antisocial rogue version with Speaker7 last year, and remember thinking that I’d rather have my arm sawed off by a butter knife than do it again. When it rolled around this year, Speaker7 sent me a very threatening “do NaBloPoMo or you’re dead” e-mail. That, coupled with Rarasaur’s crazed enthusiasm over literate chili peppers, convinced me to give it another go.
I’m pretty sure this is the slippery slope that leads to people finding themselves in cults. I’ve somehow managed to narrowly escape that fate all of these years. The only cult I belong to is the one which worships Jack in the Box tacos.
I have a secret, Hooked on Tonics. It’s the kind of secret that will prevent me from running for Congress, or becoming one of Puff Daddy’s umbrella holders. The skeleton in my closet is that I am a reality television junkie. I’m an equal opportunity kind of gal which means I’ll watch just about anything, the trashier the better.
Most people think these shows are a total waste of air space, and are killing my brain cells one at a time. While I understand that position, I think those people are missing the little pieces of wisdom hidden in these programs.
Sometimes you’re simply overreacting – Real Housewives franchise
Every fight in in these shows boils down to one overly Botoxed person doing something to another overly Botoxed person, and it being completely blown out of proportion. I get it, it’s difficult to get over things when you can’t fully express yourself because your face is more frozen than a mammoth during the Ice Age. Still, these women fail to realize that they’re experiencing first world problems, and that the only person who thinks it’s an egregious error to show up in casual wear to a dinner party is themselves. Sometimes we all need to realize that “problematic” is a matter of perspective, and not a matter of fact.
I’ve given a lot of thought to whether or not I’m running a successful blog, especially in the last few months. I kind of abandoned it, and felt guilty for letting my readers down. I wasn’t gaining any new followers, my page views were abysmal, and my social networks had become stagnant. Fail whale.
When I first started this, I was purely driven by fame and wealth. I wanted to earn Scrooge McDuck status, making so much money I could swim in it. Eminem would write derogatory things about me in his songs, and I’d become the target of a Republican Tea Party attack. My aptly titled “Tonic” perfume would sell in Sephora stores around the world.
Okay, so that’s a bit of a stretch. Well, except the perfume part because I really do think it’d be cool if people smelled like I do. That mix of desperation, underboob sweat, and awkward sexual tension took me years to perfect, and I just want to share it with the world. Continue reading
There is a woman here on WordPress, you may have heard of her, The Ringmistress. She is married to a guy you may also have heard of, Le Clown. Together they form an incredibly sexy and disgustingly romantic couple. They make me puke in a way only Canadians in love can.
Today is Le Clown’s birthday, and The Ringmistress thought it would be fun if she sent him on a blog scavenger hunt. You know, because nothing says love like making someone work for their birthday gift. She asked his best bloggy friends to put up posts providing clues which would help him navigate the hunt. She gave me my assignment, cracked her whip, and I started brainstorming.
My first thought was to dress up like a clown. He’s a clown, I like makeup, and my nose is already red from all of this drinking. It just makes sense to commemorate his birthday in this way.
Dressing up like a clown is a totally normal way to spend a Friday night
I look good, don’t I? A little too good. My eye diamonds, my blushing cheeks, my jazz hands. You can’t upstage someone on their birthday! Back to the drawing board. Continue reading
I wanted to write this post last night while the feeling of yesterday’s events were still fresh in my mind, but I decided against it. I don’t believe in writing from an overly emotional place, and yesterday I had to take a step back. I needed to give myself time to process what had happened
Now I’m ready to take a breath, and type.
Earlier this week, there was a shooting at a mall in my area which left two people dead. As I’m sure all of you know, there was a horrific shooting at an elementary school in Connecticut yesterday which claimed many lives, most of which were children’s. Also in the news yesterday, a man stabbed 22 children outside a primary school in China. After hearing about these acts of unspeakable violence, my first thoughts were, “What the fuck has happened to people?”
I cried. For the victims, for the families of the victims, for the people who will forever be haunted by the events, for everyone who lost a little faith in humanity.
I used to be very cynical and pessimistic, believing that people will screw you over when given the chance. “The world is full of opportunists” I’d say, and I meant that. I looked at everyone as though they were a suspect in a crime they had not yet committed. Innocent until proven guilty? No way. Guilty until proven innocent. Continue reading