Thursday, February 9, 2017

Only while covered in vomit.

So yesterday was awful. My youngest woke up from a nap burning up, proceeded to vomit all over  me, and then had a febrile seizure. And of course I was a train wreck calling for an ambulance. And in the ambulance. And at the hospital. Just a hot mess all over. She ended up being just fine and is back to plotting the worlds takeover right after Sesame Street. Bless her little heart. 

As I sat and thought late last night, going over everything that had happened, and doing the mom wind down, what I uncovered was right on par for my life. 

I could look put together and adorable and run into LITERALLY no one I would be attracted to or want. Like spending the whole day with the cast from the Hills have Eyes. 

Yesterday. YESTERDAY! Although I changed my shirt out before running into the ambulance I still had that aromatic smell of curdled milk and self loathing. The police officer- hot. The doctor- hot. Both sweet but when they got within 3 feet of me that twinkle in their eye vanished- with a quickness!  Hilarious. 

And so it goes- Universe -2. Me -0. 

Monday, February 6, 2017

It burns.

So I have been somewhat an asshole lately. Just a real dick. Maybe it's seasonal aggravation that I have to be stuck inside, or that I have a real adversion to anything "adulty", OR (and I'm really hoping it's the case) I'm purging all this dickishness to possibly being nice again. Fingers crossed.

However this weekend I was served my karmic dish. In a way to even the scales, the universe bitch slapped me in the face with a sting. A real sting.

Universe- 1. Me-0.

Planned to get together with friends for the Super Bowl and decided to make and bring something. No big deal, right?

Music blaring and a few drinks in and I decide I am at the right fucked-upness to really Master Chef the shit out of this dish. Dancing, stirring, drinking, etc. I'm winning at this so far.

For a brief second I think to glove my hands before cutting up the jalapeños, but dismiss the notion. Clearly I've channeled some amazing chef cause I'm really hitting on markers, all flavors, I'm ON IT. This will prove to be a poor decision in hindsight.

So- continuing sans gloves. It's not noticeable at first (probably from the liquor) and I get the whole thing into the oven. My next moves will be the footpath to my demise. As I'm finishing reading the rest of the recipe, I start pinching and rubbing my lips, a nervous quirk when I'm focused on something.  My eyes start tearing up and I realize it's the jalapeño juice. That fucking green pepper jizzed Satans spunk all over of my hands. I went and washed my hand furiously, rubbing the soapy lather over my mouth and rinsed. I thought I had cured it. And with my freshly cleaned hands I rubbed the tear from my eyes and proceeded into the other room to change my clothes (who knows were this jalapeño ended up-cooking should come with a hazmat suit).

Before I even made it to my room my eyes were on fire and starting to swell. In my mind I imagined my tears were like flares, catching everything on fire where they landed. IT. WAS. FUCKING. BRUTAL. So I rinsed  my face- awful fucking idea as it spread and now I was breathing it in.

So needless to say, every inch of my body was tingling for most of Sunday.

Fuck you, universe.

Monday, January 23, 2017

March of the Vaginas-

Let me preface this by saying I didn't march over the weekend. I had to work, had to provide for my two little girls, had to do my hustle..

What I won't do is shame those who have, which I see a lot of you women doing. Shaming women for fighting for their rights AND yours, while being belittled by you. How hard it must be to face adversity while those you fight for are cutting your legs out from under you. 

I am the poster child for an early 30s American girl. I have young children, and abortion couldn't be a choice for me and my emo heart and deep sense of guilt I feel. That's personally how I am, and unashamed of it. HOWEVER, my ego is never overbearing enough to believe my personal beliefs should be force to the point of exclusion onto anyone else.  I believe everyone should be allowed to live their own life, let it mold you and change you, for better or worse. A dichotomy like that is the heartbeat to democracy. To everything. 

I love the spirit of protesting. I love the passion of believing in something enough it moves you and turns you into a megaphone for its platform. We forget this country was sought out on persecution and birthed in the midst of a riot (you know, dumping everyone's shit in Boston Harbor).  240ish years later we are still persecuting. Does that not worry you?! That as a society our growth has been mostly nothing? 

So I want to say thank you. To every person who marched. Thank you for fighting for OUR rights. Cause my whole life I've had to be concerned with societies rules and regulations. If I'm too friendly to a guy will he think that I want to fuck him? If I find an outfit that I love that shows too much cleavage will I be asking to be groped while out for a night with friends? If I'm in a parking lot at night and alone will I always have to look over my shoulder? Can I run simple errands without someone commenting on me inappropriately?  And what if I'm dating someone and he forces himself onto me, that's not rape, right? 

Come on. Get real. This is fucking ridiculous and unfair to the right everyone has- to live their own true self without barriers or criticism. 

P.S.- if you are shaming this movement, I'm assuming you are close minded, washed up, and/or externally and internally disgusting. 

Monday, January 16, 2017


Things I took away from this weekend-

Electricity is the tits.

I don't computer computers at all.

If freezing rain, sleet, and ice were in a line up, I wouldn't be able to pick them apart.

I hate winter.

I like feeling as if I'm understood.

When I drink hot tea I feel like and speak as an old British woman. Like I should be bitching about Parliment- properly.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Extrovert ego vs the introverted heart

I've always welcomed the moments to be truly introspective and self reflecting. Self effacement is a big portion of my personality, and I enjoy discovering new (sometimes awful) things about myself. I like to fall on my sword. I like to deeply dissect my fault lines, and speak on these things with kind and understanding people.

I've been lucky to have contrasting qualities to my personality and mindset. And although hard for some to read and understand, I find that I'm not alone in this advantage/curse.

So I'm going to try to navigate it, as best as I can hungover. Cause, well....booze.

10 things you gotta know about the introverted extrovert girl. We exist. Just like mermaid and unicorns.

1- She doesn't need you for much, but wants you for everything. Having an extroverted personality and mindset comes with a certain confidence and independence. She doesn't need you to do anything or be anything for her. She can create all she needs with her own hands and mind- except love. It may be the only thing she needs you for, and with an introverted heart, you have to show up.

2- She will challenge you. Not in an aggressive way, but she spends real time questioning herself.  And she likes the idea or out growing herself at every turn. Cause to evolve is to live. She desires a partner who can grit their tit in the face of chance and challenge, and pull through to the other side.

3- She knows what it means to be alone, and she likes it. She is content with herself. Not because she has all she wants or needs, but because she is forgiving of her human condition and appreciative of all moments, even the small ones.

4- she cares what you think. As a strong extrovert, others opinions don't matter much on the surface. With an introverted heart, those she lets close to her, their opinions weigh heavy.

5- she is unapologetically herself. Often displayed as bitchy or narcissistic, which couldn't be further from the truth. A dueling personality like this is a hard one to maneuver. You straddle this fine line, where one part of you couldn't care less, while the other is deeply empathetic to not let their tongue (mind) overstep their heart.

6- she is loyal. A girl with an emo heart and a forward thinking mind will find opportunity for pure bliss and stay loyal to it. They can believe in impossible things, and even believe they can achieve them, and work hard to making that hypothesis into a theory, and finally a fact.

7- they're vulnerable, if you made it this far. Once you break the shell of societal standard and parameters, they're very exposed. Like a lifetime of secrets just held right past their lips. And unveiling themselves in such a way creates an intense bond for them.

8- they're sensitive. Above anything else I've stated, they're incredible sensitive. They can feel a tilt, a change; and will often speak on it from their inherent confidence. They can also feel a deep connection much earlier than others and nurture it to full growth.

9- they're mostly misunderstood. Misunderstood by peers, friends, lovers and even themselves. Unless you have a deeply connected bond with them, they will assume you don't have a clue on how they feel or operate.

10 - they understand the importance of a true connection. For all the contrasting traits, and confusion , and overthinking- they know the beauty, simplicity, and rarity of a true connection. Everything is fleeting- but to understand the importance in the presence of something gold- that's uncommon in this digital age.

To love an introverted extrovert isn't easy, to be honest, I don't know if I personally could love someone like myself. I know what it means to be one, and I know it's an extremely passionate and thoughtful love.  And someone great told me that sometimes, the best things in love are the ones that test your limits, push you in a way you couldn't push yourself.

Maybe it's not so bad.


Wednesday, December 28, 2016

It's gonna get deep here- bring a life vest.

Recently it was brought to my attention that I hero worship some people in my life. Naturally, I looked up the exact definition and was instantly confused. The definition is an excessive amount of adoration. Huh. That doesn't make much sense to me.

So my brain works in this way where I question the next layer to this complexity. Who decides what is excessive? And why is excessive have a negative connotation to it? I mean, sure some things in excess are bad- like booze, prostitutes, and binge watching Breaking Bad.

Then, I realized that our society as a whole is pretty depressing. It's much easier to take criticism than it is to take a compliment. If someone is excessively smart, they're assumed to be awkward and weird. If someone is excessively attractive, they're assumed to be pretentious and mean. If someone is excessively sensitive, they're labeled a baby. We have become comfortable being mediocre. We have become comfortable being average. We have become comfortable with low commitment, high self regard, and an entitlement that justifies all of our behavior.

And I'm right there with you. Ive been labeled pretentious and a baby. I've been a dick. I've been mediocre. We pick each other apart, until there is just scraps, and wonder what happened here. We've become accustom to criticizing and bitching- hell we even criticize excessive adoration and adulation by labeling it hero worshipping.

Maybe we should start celebrating the positive things in each other. So yeah, I'll keep being excessive. I'll admire excessively. I'll love excessively. I'll live excessively.


Wednesday, December 14, 2016

How did you get my address? You weren't invited.

But since you're here, might as well keep reading.

I've been told I should be a writer. Granted most times were from men and mostly because of my rack. Like, what? Am I gonna pull a typewriter from my cleavage?

But when a genuine good friend told me to write and not overthink it, I took the advice. So we will see. It may be fun, it may be an epic failure (which I'm more than competent at handling), but above all else it will be real and honest.

So, here I am. A 30something mom, entrepreneur, opinionated, sarcastic, ridiculous girl. Notice I used girl and not woman? I noticed. I assume it's because my own subconscious knows I'm not great at adulting. But let's be real- adulting blows.

So what can you find here?! Shit, idk. Maybe you'll laugh, maybe you'll leave disgusted, maybe you'll cry- and if you do all three isn't it kinda like a holiday? At least that's how holidays go in this Irish family. All I know is you'll feel something. And if you don't, don't come back. Don't waste your time. Really.

So let's start at the beginning. Not the actual beginning, but the start of all that is me now.

My first blow job.

Now a quick condensed backstory- was in an Irish Catholic family, with a ton of expectations and a insane desire to appease my parents. So my circle of friends were mostly good catholic schoolgirls. I was 15 or 16, and none of us really knew what a blow job was. My boyfriend at the time did of course and wanted one. Now- I couldn't let him know that I was clueless to the whole situation, and instead turned to my friends. We were fairly intelligent, and had theorized a blow job down to a very simple process. Still with me? Perfect.

So, the night. THE night. I was ready. I sat in the passenger seat of his jeep at the park (cause duh- where else do you go for your first blowie?), hands clammy, running over all the scenarios and plans I had devised with my friends, my bj advisors. We start kissing, his hands on my shoulders, and I know this is going to happen. I remember telling him that I wanted to, it's my favorite, and I'm not half bad at it. So he excitedly undid his jeans, and with my most confident smile, I wrapped my hand around my hair and leaned in and blew it.

Literally and figuratively.

I kept blowing and blowing, like I expected the tip of his dick to sound off like a whistle. "You like that?" 😚💨 until finally he told me "it's not a birthday candle baby, put it in your mouth" to which I proceeded to be deepthroated while I bawled my eyes out.

As soon as I returned home I swore I could never be embarrassed sexually like that again. Which began my fondness of porn....which in turn brought on a whole new kind of dynamic and hilarious stories into my life, which I will be compiling here, among other things.

 And you get to be front row for all my ridiculousness and humiliation😂