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To the people who were disgusting on Caitlyn Jenner’s Instagram

This is a rant folks. I can’t stay quiet. I get a sick feeling in my stomach when people are mean. So I have to say something about the way I feel. It just isn’t right that there’s so much hatred. Hatred veiled as either freedom of speech or a religious privilege. I don’t get it.

When Caitlyn Jenner received the Arthur Ashe Award of Courage at the Espys recently, the speech she made was so compelling and compassionate. I am sure that the transgender community was applauding her stand of courage, yes courage.

Not the kind of courage it takes to head in to battle as a service man or woman. Yes, those people ARE heroes. Without question.

Not the kind of courage it takes for a person fighting cancer and knows the treatment is hard and painful, but has no choice otherwise.

It’s the kind of courage after years of being told one thing is the way it’s supposed to be, and then defying those ‘norms’ and stepping out as an individual. It’s the kind of courage that someone decides after 65 years, they want to be the person they felt they always were.

lgbt equality caitlyn jenner

The comments on Caitlyn Jenner’s Instagram post were horrifying. I guess it’s no surprise that folks are put off by an American icon, a former Olympic champion all of a sudden changing genders. But really? Does it require so much hate? I won’t post any of them here. The language and words used are ugly. You can see for yourself in the link I provided, or not and just believe me.

Clearly she deserves the award considering with all the backlash that’s out there, she still steps forward proudly as who she wants to be. That’s called COURAGE folks! She is a hero in the sense of the word for standing up to who she is, and for the others that want to be who they want to be.

I don’t think straight people in this country understand what the LGBT community suffers through constantly. Whether in the past or even now in the present. The bullying, snide remarks, the comments by politicians and lawmakers that degrade them, the struggle to walk down a street and not be picked out for looking effeminate or butch and beaten up. How many times have you heard, “I love the gays, but….” “I have gay friends, I do. But…”

What is different to you, doesn’t need to threaten you. Someone else’s hero status doesn’t take away from another hero’s status.

Elizabeth Cady Stanton is my hero. Susan B Anthony was arrested for voting. She wasn’t allowed so yep, they threw that nice woman in jail. She was quite the activist in those days. Bet you didn’t know that, huh? She lived true to what she believed in, and she made life easier for those that came after her. That’s a hero.

Alice Paul founded the National Women’s Party. These women fought for my right to vote. To be counted. They endured jail, violence, brutality, isolation; all for my right to vote. That’s heroic.

If you thought the scene in Game of Thrones was horrible with Cersei walking naked, and that damn woman and her shame bell, and the crowd being absolutely cruel, then why would you cast insults and sit comfortably at home wishing death or destruction on a person because of their choice on no longer being a man? Should we go back to the medieval days and live in fear or persecution if someone decides they don’t like what you’re doing? “Did you hear, the Jones’ ate meat on Sunday, that’s a sin, we should go burn down their house.”

Caitlyn came forward knowing this would be hard. And she has at least a team of people to help her. She has the financial luxury of security and privacy. She can afford her medications, surgeries and wardrobe.

But for someone in Smalltown, USA who decides they want to do the same, yet they can’t afford any of those things, as well as they need to fear their very life when they step out their door because they’ve put on a dress, or lipstick, whatever; you think that’s okay?

 

People- heroes come in all shapes and sizes. They are the heroes to the people they are standing up for.

The people who want to change their gender are not doing this like they change a tattoo. They want to be happy, to be free with themselves. They aren’t pedophiles or rapists. They don’t troll women’s bathrooms for the thrill.

Gay people being allowed to marry doesn’t take away from your marriage. Just like my right to vote didn’t take away from all the white men voting. Yeah, only white men got to vote for awhile. There was that whole slavery thing.

 

Why is this so hard to understand?

Okay, stepping off my soapbox now. Just remember, what you say is an arrow that can’t be put back in the quiver. What you write, is a stone thrown that can’t be unthrown. Are you part of a solution, or the problem?

Your ideas, beliefs and opinions are not the right ideas, beliefs or opinions. They’re just yours. Just like mine are mine.

And like Caitlyn Jenner said, ‘being different isn’t a bad thing.’

caitlyn jenner speech quotes

caitlyn jenner arthur ashe courage espys lgbt

 

 

 

 

 

Is anyone even listening anymore?

Frugalista Blog Is Anyone Even Listening Anymore?

photo from Google images via brandisre-designed.blogspot

I love social media. I do. I admit. I am on my Instagram all the time. I’m checking out what people are commenting on my Facebook page, I definitely check my comments on my YouTube channel often! But it’s pretty self serving. I want to see what people are saying to me, or about me. Did they read this post or that? Did they click ‘like’ on my picture?

Then I scroll through Facebook and the news several times a day. It’s all rather depressing. I thought the country was pretty divided back in ’04 when Bush first sent us into Iraq and folks were pissed off about that. You either were for the war and patriotic, or against it and treasonous. Or so it seemed. Social media barely existed back then.

Now we’re no different. We squabble about gun control and civil rights. I scratch my head and look at the calendar. Yep, 2015. And we haven’t evolved.

In fact, it’s worse. And I’m probably guilty of it too. Here’s how it works: You hear something awful happened. You post the news articles about it. Then a few days pass and the bloggers start writing their opinions and trying to get clicks on their site. There’s always a ‘this’ side and a ‘that’ side. You’re either on ‘this’ side, or you’re on ‘that’ side.

Something as straight forward as a church shooting in South Carolina has divided people. An evil act committed by a white person against black people, for the sole reason that they were black, and nothing more, is still bringing about argument. How is there any arguing? What is there to argue?!

Then there’s the Confederate Flag. Well, I guess by geography and ideology, I’m a Yankee. So what do I know about the Confederate Flag? When I was a kid, I just thought it’s what decorated the General Lee, the car driven by Bo and Luke Duke in the Dukes of Hazard. When I grew up, I knew it represented the South in the Civil War. But I didn’t put much thought into it.

Not until this week. The more and more I read about the history of that flag upsets me that it’s 2015, and states IN OUR UNITED States of America, still fly that flag high and are PROUD of it. What are you proud of?

The indentured servitude of a race of people that worked for free to for the success of the white plantation owner? Oh well, there were some nice plantation owners, and gosh darn, they housed and fed these people, so you know, how bad could it be? **bangs head against desk.

There’s this period of history called World War 2. Remember that? This guy Hitler invaded most of Europe and killed more than 6 million Jews in the attempt to rid this world of non blue-eyed white people (more or less). They flew a flag called a Swastika. If you think the Swastika and the Confederate flag are different, then you clearly haven’t read enough history.

Sorry. I got side tracked on my opinion of things. I realize that. I just feel an oppression of any race or religion is something that doesn’t need to be argued or defended. There’s right and there’s wrong, and that’s wrong.

So back to my original title of this blog post. Is anyone even listening anymore?

And it’s not even the Charleston tragedy that makes for debate. Let’s talk about Obamacare, gun control, immigration, gay marriage, transgenders, trophy hunting, vegan diets, police brutality….

How many things do you see in the news and your Facebook feed a day? How many come from headlines that are trying to make you read and feel something? What’s the source of the story?

You see the headline, click on the story and feel your blood rise. Your pulse quickens. It strikes to the very base of what you believe either for it or against it. When you share the article on your own news feed, are you telling people, “this is how I feel, take it or leave it”, or are you saying “I hope you read this and gain a new perspective”?

Everyone is talking, but no one is listening.

You can get people riled up over sunscreen. Yeah. Sunscreen. Mention you are wearing SPF at the beach and people are either for you because they have had a bout with a sketchy mole, or you get the folks telling you that you need Vitamin D and sunscreen is toxic. Want to mention you brought your kids to the doctor and had them vaccinated? Or forget that. It’s just going to start an argument that vaccines cause developmental delays or Autism. Big pharma can’t be trusted. I mean, come on. They’re just LETTING us die of cancer to make money. Everyone knows hemp and carrot juice cures cancer.

Climate change is fake. It’s Al Gore’s mission to take over the world with Leonardo DiCaprio and other Prius driving celebrities. Forget about category 5 hurricanes and drought. We don’t need to worry about Florida falling in the ocean in 100 years. Go on. Burn those fossil fuels. But wait, I drive a 12 year old minivan. Is that bad?

I don’t eat meat but I like Doritos. Am I contributing to the destruction of society by supporting Frito Lay?

I feel like anything I do or say is going to be argued against. And sure, I speak up and spout off about things I care about. And I’m sure the person arguing with me cares about their perspective too. We all have a story, we all have a point of view.

The kids and I met President Obama last year. Pretty cool. But not everyone thought it was cool. I get that. But hey, be happy for us because we were happy. I don’t care what you think of the guy (well, I kind of do. I would think you would respect his office and his position, but well… I’ve seen a lot of the opposite lately.) at least scroll on by, or just be polite. It’s one of those things we do as grown ups.

But if you disagree with something on Facebook, or anywhere for that matter, do you have to say anything really? What if you just ignored it? Conversation and discourse is great. But it’s only productive when it’s done with sensitivity, compassion, and intelligence. Lately, I’ve done a lot of scrolling!

You’re never going to bring a person to Jesus by banging them on the head with a Bible. Right? So switch it up. Think for the other side once in awhile.

Maybe this blog today isn’t making a lot of sense. Maybe it’s rambling and whiny. I guess I’m just tired. Tired of no one listening.

Americans like to complain. A lot.

If you were a spectator of the spectacle on Sunday called the Super Bowl then you saw lots of football, commercials, celebrities, and commentary. If you were on social media during that spectacle, you saw all those things plus everyone’s opinion about them.

Actually, if you weren’t on social media, I’m pretty sure good ol’ Uncle Bob was pretty vocal about his opinions as well. I’m 42 and can remember Super Bowls from about 1980. And social media didn’t exist and there was a lot of complaining and judgments made even then. Uncle Bob would scream at the TV and when the team he was rooting for messed up they were usually a bag of shitheads and didn’t deserve to play. Or something like that.

I was rooting for my Seahawks. Yes, it was a painful loss. I still feel the pang of dread thinking about that last play. Not only armchair quarterbacks all over America thought it was a crappy call to throw the ball instead of giving it to our number one running back of the game, and probably the league, Marshawn Lynch, but so did the commentators on NBC. Let’s just say the rookie from the Patriots, Butler, is feeling like going to Disneyland after intercepting Russell Wilson’s pass that ended the game for the Hawks and won the game for Brady and his Patriots.

Never mind ‘deflategate’ or pregame smack talk, media day fines, friendly celebrity rivalries, this was a well matched football game, both teams with a 12-4 record going in to this. An East meets West delight for fans of the game.

So in laymen’s terms, the guys in blue and green with the hawk on their helmets and the big guy who likes Skittles, were playing against the other guys in red white and blue with the guy that is married to the supermodel.

I enjoy football. I understand the game. I can usually see calls when the refs call them, or see them before they’re called. I get it. But I don’t play football. Never have. Okay that one time I broke my pinky when Owen threw the ball at me, doesn’t count. This includes the majority of Americans too. Sure, football is played in cul-de-sacs and high schools, pee wee leagues and colleges. But the ratio of actual pro football players to regular people? 1:500,000. I’m making that up. But I’m probably close.

The last minute of the game went down in a fury of tweets and guhs, and oohs, and WTFs? that were heard throughout the land. EVERYONE had an opinion. And everyone had their idea of who was to blame. Coaching, players, Obama, God, owners… good grief. The conspiracies were rampant. One even included that the coaching staff didn’t want to risk Marshawn Lynch win the game, get the MVP award and painfully have to face the media. Talk about LOL! For real people?

If you didn’t complain about the game, then let’s see, you probably got to complain about Katy Perry’s halftime performance. Because coming out on a giant mechanized puppet tiger operated by humans while she wore a flame dress singing  “I’ve got the eye of the tiger” is just sort of so-so. But not to worry because Lenny Kravits and Missy Elliott ‘saved’ the show by being able to perform with her.

Oh, yeah, Katy needs help performing. Never mind her sell out tours or 5 back to back hits in a row on her last album. She’s just a rookie. I mean, I was excited to see Lenny and Missy and like, “yay, more performers to enjoy!”  But apparently it’s never enough for some.

frugie blog America likes to complain

www.quickmeme.com

Then let’s talk about the commercials. There were some super sweet ones. Budweiser, they know what they’re doing plying our emotions to buy beer using horses and puppies.

Did anyone even notice the awesome Nationwide ad? No, not the one with the dead kid, the one with Mindy Kaling and Matt Damon? I loved it. But whatever, everyone decided to complain about the dead kid one. Personally, I was taken aback by the startling nature of it and thought maybe a different time frame would have been more appropriate, but hey, didn’t it get you thinking?

I don’t even remember what the ad was for with the fanny packs, but at least it wasn’t horrible with boobs and lingerie like Victoria’s Secret. Because our country doesn’t like boobs right? I mean, breast feed at home people. We like boobs. Just not in our face. Okay, in our face, but not on TV.

Because a Super Bowl ad to be successful can’t be too sexy, too sappy, too jarring or too confusing. It has to be just right. Because the American public expect it to be that way! Even McDonald’s giving out free french fries had some folks whining. I admit, I kind of poked some fun at that one on Twitter.

Now that all that sporting stuff is over, let’s go back to doing what we do best. Complain about vaccinations being a government conspiracy, gripe about folks putting coats on their kids in car seats, and wring our hands over GMO food. It’s what we do best.

It’s fun bashing things from the comfort of our Lazy Boy while eating chips and dips and wings.

The morning after has left me with a bitter pill. Not because my team didn’t win, but because America always seems to lose at these things.

Sigh. There’s always next year.

Frugie blog Americans like to complain. A lot.

 

Why I regret spanking my child

We say it takes a village to raise a child.

It can take a fleet of people to bring home a new baby. Grandparents, neighbors, best friends are all helping the new and bleary-eyed parents with their unfamiliar and exhausting schedule. The dinners are pre-made in the freezer, the laundry folded by a kind grandma, neighbor or mother-in-law are absolutely life savers!

There are countless instances where the village kicks in:

A ride to the pediatrician with your best friend can help you with that cumbersome stroller you’re still getting the hang of collapsing to fit in your trunk…I’ve been there.

When your oldest is sick and you can’t pick up your youngest from school and that helpful neighbor offers to do it for you.

But when it comes to issues like discipline that border on child abuse, we can turn a blind eye and say that how you discipline your kids is your business. What goes on behind closed doors is your business. How you treat or mistreat your spouse is your business.

It’s a Pandora’s Box of taboo topics. A minefield of gray that most of us would rather leave to each his own.

However, if it takes a village to raise a child, why do we neglect one of the parts that is so critical to a child’s psyche and molding in how he or she will perceive violence, corporal punishment, and power?

In the case of NFL player, Adrian Peterson, he took a switch, a small branch from a tree and hit the child repeatedly for interfering with another child’s video game.

This is an old-fashioned form of punishment. Probably one our grandparents endured. I think my dad did. We’ve seen it on episodes of Little House on the Prairie when the school master disciplines a student with a switch or stick. Nuns did this in Catholic schools with rulers, headmasters with paddles.

The difference between those situations and the Adrian Peterson situation is the boy’s injuries and wounds look like they were inflicted out of rage and lack of self control.

Discipline should be carried out judicially. Not in a fit of anger.

This is why I can say I regret some of the spankings I gave my daughter. I know that I reacted in the heat of the moment when I gave her the swat on her diapered backside. Read more

 

Why I regret spanking my child by Frugalista Blog for Bonbon Break

I can’t please everyone

“Get a hobby.”

“Get a job.”

“Clean your house more often.”

“Let down your hair and blow off steam.”

“You should go out with your girl friends.”

“Why do you go out so much?”

“Pay attention to your kids more.”

If I did nothing but look after my house all day, people would think I’m weird and need a hobby. If I just sat around and did a hobby all day, people would think I needed to work more. It’s called balance people. I do what works for my family. Not yours.

Why are people so judgey? I didn’t ask your opinion. Okay, I just did about the judgey question, but before that. Why do people judge my parenting based on how often I’m on the internet? Shouldn’t they judge my parenting based on my kids themselves?

I’m a SAHM (Stay At Home Mom). It’s a lame term. I don’t just stay home. Sometimes I do. Sometimes all I can do is wait for the kids to leave the house for the school bus so I can watch Sherlock on Netflix or Downton Abbey. I make myself lattes and eat baked goods and am in clear denial as to the amount of work I actually have to get done. It’s a coping mechanism.

Then there’s some days I leave the house around 9 am and don’t get home until 7:30 or 8 at night. Between errands, appointments, volunteering and taking the kids to their activities, I am non-stop.

On a really good day, I’ll throw in some laundry between errands and empty the dishwasher. On a fabulous day, I’ll prepare a dinner that is nutritious AND delicious. Whoa.

So if you’re wondering, no, I don’t spend my whole day on Facebook. Or my blog.

I blog when I can, usually after the kids go to bed. Or when they’ve left for school.

Why am I even telling you this? Because there’s bloggers and moms and dads out there who seem to share their opinions freely about how horrible us blogging, Instagraming, Facebooking, and Pinteresting moms are. And I’m tired of it.

I’m pretty sure my kids are totally fine while I sit here next to them and I’m on my computer. Or wait in the carpool line on my phone. And when they were younger, how many times did I hear, “mommy watch this!” and for the one millionth time I was shown how they could spin and forward roll. Or burp. I didn’t miss any milestones of my children’s development because I was on the internet. My children are not maladjusted because I don’t give them every breathing, waking second of my attention. No, in fact. They are independent beings that know how to wipe their own ass. (Most of the time.)

Now with the book, I Just Want to Pee Alone out and kicking book selling butt- I want to be clear that I am in support of other moms who share their candid tales of parenting and motherhood, pregnancy and post-partum, and not just do it honestly, but hilariously! The kind of stories you laugh so hard at over a Girls Night Out when someone shares the story of how they gave birth, that you pee your pants, or spew your cosmo out your nose. Don’t all moms pretty much share their birth stories?

Then there’s my marriage. If I make a few jokes about McSweetie, can we not jump to conclusions that I must be a nightmare to live with? Can we not think my marriage must be miserable and my husband so pussy whipped, he doesn’t know what hit him? If I was a stand-up comic and did this piece about how husbands can behave like children, there would be a lot of women who agree with me. Or husbands that agree with me about their spouse being childlike. But put it in a blog, and all of a sudden, I’m Dr. Phil and I need to stop giving marital advice and stop emasculating my husband. Trust me, a list about how my husband doesn’t pick up his underwear, doesn’t emasculate him.

He admits to his foibles. He knows he can be lazy around the house. So what? I get something off my chest, a few others laugh about it and tell me they relate, I feel better. Life goes on. We don’t have to psycho analyze it into a marriage crisis, people! I’m actually pretty awesome to be married to. I wash his shorts, make his lattes, encourage him and his career, send him off to heavy metal concerts with his buddies, take care of his mother’s birthday… I’m a pretty damn good wife.

Here let me interview McSweetie on his feelings about this….

Oh, sorry, he was asleep on the couch. I’ll ask him later.

Okay, are we cool? Because I’m a little tired of people getting their knickers in a twist. Just chill the fluff down. I can’t please everyone, so I please me. And my family. Thankyouverymuch.

And if you haven’t yet- buy the damn book!

Peace in Connecticut

I don’t always like to blog about controversial topics. I don’t. But I’m a writer. So I write my feelings. My blog is my voice and I try to use my voice with a purpose.  Here are my thoughts on the horrible event at Sandy Hook elementary in Connecticut.

The fact of the matter is- I hate guns. But before all my NRA readers get hot under the collar at me- give me a chance here. I support the 2nd Amendment. Sure. I don’t like it, but that’s my opinion. You can carry a handgun. You can own hunting rifles. But get those mother fucking automatic assault rifles out of the hands of citizens. I don’t know why we don’t agree on that. The assault ban law expired years ago. Why?

So with that said, yes, I’m sure I’ve pissed some people off, BUT- here is what I know we can agree on. The persons who have committed these atrocities in the last year, and the last 10 years, all were mentally ill. Right? Nobody does this is thinking soundly. Clearly we can use these examples as a learning tool. Can’t we?

Politicians, lobbyists, activists, LISTEN UP- we need to stop reacting in a knee-jerk fashion, pointing fingers, spending millions of dollars on lobbying, blaming parties (this is not a party issue, I assure you.) I have Republican friends who hate guns and Democratic friends who own them. We need to get to the root of the problem and fix those who are mentally unsound.

It isn’t easy. I’m not stupid. But why do all the stories of family members and acquaintances to these criminals start with, “I knew something wasn’t right with them…”

I don’t know how you can argue your right to bear arms of a semi automatic firearm to a mother who’s 5 year old was gunned down while sitting in their Kindergarten class. Or tell the surviving children of that class why their teacher’s son came with so much fire power to kill his own mother and their classmates.

This could have happened anywhere, to anyone. It has. We’ve seen it. From Amish communities, high schools, movie theaters, places of worship… there is no place safe in America. There just isn’t.

So this is why I’m asking those that sound off in the argument on this to be kind, to be respectful, to honor those that are surviving the aftermath. Yes, people kill people. But guns used by people kill people too. Terrible things will continue to happen in our world. This event rips out our hearts because we can’t understand it. The fact is, more children die from auto accidents, bicycle accidents, and childhood cancer than they will from a mass shooting. But why does it always feel like there was something that could’ve been done?

30,000 people have friends and family members who are missing them in just this passed year lost to gun violence. My question is for all of us, what can we do to lower that number? What can we do to protect people’s rights, without threatening people’s safety.

What countries in our world have fewer gun deaths and better mental health provisions? What is their system? This isn’t a socialist or capitalist problem. This is an American problem. We need to honestly and thoroughly look at every single possibility we can do to prevent this, or minimize this from happening again.

The date on the calendar, 11 days until Christmas, makes this more painful. I think about the presents I’ve already wrapped for my children that are under the tree, that are unwrapped hidden around the house in special places. Their advent calendars happily opened each morning. I can’t not break into tears thinking of those advent calendar doors that will go unopened in those houses in Connecticut.

My heart is truly broken.

Peace. Truly, and sincerely- peace.

Douchey kids and parents without a sense of humor.

I am pretty nice. I am. Ask folks. But I do bottle up my frustrations. So I’m smiling on the outside, and inside, I’m shaking my head going , ‘what the fuck?’  WHAT in THEEE FUCK are you thinking people?

Okay, here goes. Deep breath.

Do you lie to your kids? YES! We all do people. Our mom shaming craze is taking over Facebook. Woo hoo. I love a funny joke. I am the queen of self deprecation. I will dance around in a leotard wearing a turban if it makes you laugh.

But if you don’t think when I confess things I do behind my children’s backs isn’t funny- that’s okay. I guess. But I guess we won’t be friends. And that’s okay too. I mean, how do you NOT laugh at such honesty from moms?

Poor Somewhat Sane Mom got in some trouble from some ass-holey trolls who said she was a mean mom, a liar, a bitch, she needed to go grocery shopping, they felt sorry for her kids. Whatever.

Wow. All over a granola bar. A fucking granola bar. You say there are no more in the box. Eat one behind their back. No biggy. A unicorn isn’t going to drop dead somewhere people. Tinkerbell isn’t going to die because you told a fib to your kids.

Here’s a fib I tell my kids. Put your tooth under your pillow so the Tooth Fairy can come and bring you a dollar.

Yeah. That is called a LIE folks. Do you tell your kids- “put your tooth under your pillow so I can trip over random objects in the dark while you sleep and try to shove a dollar under your sleeping little melon without waking you up.” Huh, do you?

Lighten up people.

When you see a splayed out opossum on the road with it’s entrails on the concrete out like sausage and meatballs, do you say, “Wow, sucks to be that fella. Must have hurt real bad when the front end of a large moving vehicle crushed his insides and caused massive injuries and bleeding.” Huh, do you?  Or do you say, “that little opossum is sleeping with someone’s ground hamburger next to them.”

Do you see my point here?

Okay, I would also like to address the assholey little crotch fruit of other people that like to go around kicking, smacking or just spewing their little demon antics on every one.

When your kid hauls off and hits another kid, do you stay standing 10 feet away and say, “hey, let’s not hit, okay?” Or do you run on over to your uterus spawn and take his arm and say, “knock it off! Apologize or we are leaving!” Huh, do  you?

Just asking. Because I see a lot of just parenting from the sidelines. When my kids would do shitty behavior, especially around the age of when shitty behavior is rampant- translation- preschool years through elementary on through middle school…. (ha ha, I’m kidding)… I would get up in their grill and make sure they knew that I was on to them.

Are parents afraid of hurting their kid’s feelings? Are they afraid that if they blow it off in front of other parents those parents will somehow not notice the douchey behavior of the other kid?

Don’t raise a Nellie.

I don’t know.

So there you have it people. My rant on people who parent without a sense of humor and assholey uterus spawn whose parents enable their assholey-ness.

I can only save the world so many folks at a time. If you need a funny intervention or a wake-up call regarding your kid, just message me and I’ll slap some sense into you.

Am I Fat?

Well I’ll save you the trouble of answering that. No, I’m not.

But I still struggle with how I look, as does 99 % of the females in this country do too. I want to focus on my inner beauty. I do. But most of the time I’m a little distracted by the outer train wreck that is my aging self and I forget these important things.

I need to tell myself,  I’m okay. You need to tell YOURSELF that you’re okay. But some things in the media have been bothering me and I will get them off my chest.

Sports Illustrated swim suit model, Kate Upton, has been called fat. Fat?  Hmm, here’s a picture of her-

I’m sorry, who’s complaining?

and here-

How many folks would let her eat crackers in their bed? Show of hands please.

And here’s a blog about what the hell is wrong with people out there calling her fat. I knew about ProAna, (how-to Anorexia website) but I didn’t know about Thinspirational lingo. Gag me. And not in the Bulimia way folks.

 

So when I ask, Am I fat? the answer is still no. But I would be considered a plus size model in the industry. Plus size!  I waver around a solid size 6. My jeans are sometimes an 8, because they’re jeans people!  So Plus size? I don’t even shop at Lane Bryant. Why would I be Plus size if I don’t wear Plus size?  I’m an average size 5’6″ , one hundred and firthnmumpteen pounds.  Even my feet are an average size 8.

My BMI is healthy, my proportions are right- I’m like 34, 27, 38. Okay, I’m 32, 28,39. Whatever. It depends on the time of the month. However, nothing, and I mean NOTHING, can help with the dimples, dots, divets, veins, stretch marks and pimply pale skin that is me. Between the barnacles, skin tags, 3rd nipples…did I just say that? I mean, my dermatologist says it’s just my skin overactive in the mammalian variety, whatever.. ANYWAY, it’s not pretty.

 

I am not a plus-sized, woman. I am a healthy, 40 year old, soft and squishy mom of 2!

Comments from people on Kate Upton article read,  ‘oh, she’s pretty, but she could tone up a bit’. Really people? You are going to knock a woman for being a bit, uhm, womanly? Reading fashion magazines and beauty magazines is dumbing down our senses. We are conditioned to see size zero perfectly airbrushed models that DON’T EXIST in the real world! Nit picking over every fold, inch, pudge or dimple is dangerous. Stop seeing just the hole when there’s the entire donut to focus on! A donut with chocolate icing and extra sprinkles that is so wonderful, you forget there’s a hole.

So here- tell me I’m fat. Go on, I dare ya. (Okay, please don’t. Yeah, thanks.)

Would it be fun to be a svelte, tone, size 2? Yes.  But I’m glad I’m HEALTHY, STRONG, and HAPPY!

I’m 40 and freaking fantastic!

Take that stupid magazines- you can suck my 3rd nipple. (DID I JUST SAY THAT?)

I’m tired of being nice

Okay, not really. But can I just rant for a bit? Please? I’ve been really good lately all positive and shit. But sometimes, I just got to let it out. Here goes-

  • People who bring their dogs with them on a summer day in the car and leave them in the parking lot. I don’t care if you crack the windows. I don’t care if it’s cloudy. It’s summer. The car gets hot. YOU sit in a parked car and see how it feels. Just leave them at home. Okay?

Here’s a great little chart of how the temperature changes in a parked car during the summer.

How a car heats up during the day. This site also has tips and facts about preventing pet deaths in parked cars. Use your head people!!

  • Folks who don’t tell their kids that they are being little shits. Now I know that there’s people out there that are real douchecanoes and are mean to their kids. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about parents that just don’t tell their kids to either shut the fuck up, sit still, or keep your goddamn hands to yourself! Don’t let your little monster crinkle their Cheetos bag during a live play (yeah, some kid did this during Emma’s show this weekend), don’t let your spawn splash at the pool so much that folks sitting on deck chairs are getting wet, don’t let your kid pee on the grass at the 4th of July fireworks display next to our lawn chairs. Really. This happened. And out of ten grown-ups, not a one in that group saw this kid drop trou and whip out his wee-wee to pee on the grass. No, I didn’t say anything. Whatevs. But if that was MY kid, I would’ve have used that moment as a learning tool ( I say this in my best Julie Andrews voice).

Public urination is only funny in the movies. Sort of.

  • People who go out in public looking like absolute shit. When you see the dude on his bike, with his hat sideways, looking all gangsta, but wearing alligator pajama bottoms, you seriously scratch your head and think, WTF?

This is the only way I want to see pajama bottoms in public.

  • Drivers texting not looking at the road. Yeah- I’m talking to YOU and YOU and YOU… anyone else? I see moms, teenagers, men, EVERYONE, weaving in and out of their lane, driving under the speed limit. Just fucking drive okay? Especially on the freeway. Sure I use my phone to navigate. I check updates in the car- at stop lights! Not when I’m turning the corner!!
  • And last but not least- rape jokes. Yeah, that’s what I said. Rape jokes. Daniel Tosh is funny, but not when he gets pissed at a heckler and asks the audience if  it would be funny if she was raped by like ’5 guys’. Huh, gee Tosh, who’s the douche now? Daily Beast article Tosh’s rape joke, NOT FUNNY. This goes along with you don’t joke about children being molested or babies being harmed. I remember watching the auditions of Last Comic Standing on NBC and a wanna-be comic had in their routine something about kicking a baby. The judges just cut them off right there and were like, ‘dude, you don’t joke about shit like that. You’re done.’

So there’s my piss list. I feel better getting that off my chest.

Thanks. Now, stay calm and have a cup of tea. Cheerio.

A letter from Katie Holmes to Tom Cruise’s possible 4th wife

I was actually surprised when I heard the news last week that Katie Holmes was filing for divorce from Tom Cruise. Not that their union was ideal or even real… but I thought TomKat had a few more years on the contract. <Cough> I mean, pre nup, <cough> whatever the fuck they arranged between them. And between just you and me, I have a feeling that little Suri is the most spoiled brat on the planet. This is purely speculation on my part. I know she is just an innocent pawn in all this, but don’t you think that she probably raises hell between the nannies, Scientology chaperones and Katie? I bet she has Tom just wrapped around her little Burberry mittened finger.

Doesn’t she look so sweet?

Okay, so here is a warning, or ‘heads up’ if you will to the next woman to fall to Tom’s charms as written by Katie, in my imagination, based on tabloid fodder. Don’t sue me.

Dear doormat-

Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that you will have to be a doormat to make this relationship work. When you realize you’re tired of being a doormat, that is when the relationship will have run its course.

Tom is very charming in the beginning of the relationship. He will pay someone to have your car detailed for you. He will fly your parents out to a fancy hotel and take you all shopping at Bergdorf Goodmans. He will pay for dinner and no one will notice the kool-aid being served that looks like Champagne.

He will try to get you to carry his devil/alien/Scientology spawn as quickly as possible. Trust me. I got knocked up within the first 6 months we were dating. This assured me, he said, that I would get more in the pre-nup because Scientology will use that child’s DNA for future alien/celebrity spawn. This is used in fertility clinics throughout Beverly Hills. Why do you think all the celebrities have twins?

Make sure to compliment him all the time. Whatever you do, don’t mention the height thing. It really irks him. Oh, and don’t point out to him either, that his face looks different from his early movies. This is not surgery. His nose is EXACTLY the same. The only thing that’s changed on him are his teeth which he publicly corrected with braces a few years ago. This is the ONLY thing that has changed on him. DO NOT mention surgery. By the third date, he’ll probably show you his hyperbaric chamber that only Scientology followers get. John Travolta has one too.

This brings us to his friends. Don’t criticize Johnny. They are good ‘friends’. They like to take saunas together, go shopping at the Izod store and spend secret weekends in the Poconos. Kelly is tolerant about this. You will be too.

Another thing NEVER to mention is the ‘couch’ incident. Or Oprah. Or the movie Legend.

No Tom isn’t gay. He doesn’t understand where any of those rumors even started. Just ask Nicole. Actually, scratch that. I think Nicole started those rumors.

Oh, and most importantly- whenever you have sex, (and it wasn’t often, first wife Mimi did elude to him entering monkdom status) he wants you to call him Maverick. Also, you need to yell, at the point of climax, “I can’t handle the truth!” He’s convinced that his sperm is magic. He has magic semen that sparkles. It doesn’t really, but he likes to think so. So just tell him this and he’ll be happy. If you whisper in his ear, ‘take it right in to the danger zone’,  then he’ll pretty much want to please you like he’s jumping on a couch. OH, darn it. I mentioned the couch again. DON’T go there.

Okay, there you go. That’s the gist of it all. Good luck. Don’t expect anything to develop or flourish with your career, family or friends. At first the novelty of isolation is relaxing.  But then, you get really tired of those chaperones.

Well, I’m outta here. My girlfriends and I are going to Vegas. I’m going to do body shots and dance in a cage (that’s not a metaphor or anything).

Cheers,

Katie

P.S. If only Nicole had written ME this letter. Just disregard everything I’ve said and RUN!