Crazy Face

The face I make when I am struggling to hold my tongue

I am finding that the older I get the more time I spend just looking at people with a blank face and no response– or just smiling and nodding. I have become increasingly picky about how I choose to use my time and energy. For example, if you are an ill-mannered co-worker assigned to work with me on a temporary project and it’s highly likely that I will never have to work with you again I’m not going to waste precious energy in an effort to confront your bad manners or to try to resolve how to work with each other. I’m going to keep silent, complete the job and throw up deuces when our time together is over.


I find that this works just fine in most situations

I actually had a similar situation like this play out on a recent business trip except I didn’t quite leave things at a peaceful goodbye. I left with an attitude and was rude and abrupt–and I immediately felt awful about it. Unfortunately, it also seems the older I get the less of a kick I get out of telling people off and fighting ridiculous battles of will with people who hardly know me. I struggle less with guilt by making the decision to mind my tongue and keep it moving.

The Problem with Putting People in Their Place

… is that every once in a while you have to renew it. If you hang around people it is only a matter of time before a faux pas is made and boundaries are crossed. Whoops!

If I find myself dealing with repeat behavior too often, it becomes clear to me that there is no more bud left to be nipped. This person obviously can’t cease and desist on their behaviors so instead of yet another “come to Jesus” talk about boundaries it’s easier to just say nothing and disassociate. The anonymity of technology allows people to be so bold these days, as well as vocal about who is being cut off and why, etc. Listen, I have no interest in a long text/communication with you if it’s going to do nothing to edify you or our situation. If you’re bossy, controlling and hard -headed by nature then I’m not going to bother talking to your bossy controlling hard headed ass because you’re stubborn and not likely to change anyway. I’m simply going to fall back and STFU.


Trying to tell people off via Facebook or text?– you’re just going to get this response. Why waste the energy?

Loudmouth people will somehow try to convince you that practicing STFU is a bad thing. They think it’s somehow passive and weak—however speaking as a former loudmouth (and still transitioning out of this) it actually feels more refreshing and validating to reject potential battles and continue on with life in peace. I don’t have to prove myself to anyone and I save a lot of time by not feeling obligated to do so. Also, when you’re a loudmouth people try to use you as their mouthpiece for when they don’t have the courage to speak up for themselves. I care about my children, my relationship, family, homelessness, poverty, injustice and racism—I am happy to speak up about those issues but I won’t be the mouthpiece for an issue that only marginally grinds my gears. This is life, it’s nearly impossible to be comfortable and happy with everything so you learn to adapt and adjust. I think that is a main idea that a lot of people haven’t seemed to grasp yet. We are a world filled with billions of people all trying to adjust everyone around us to accommodate our needs. Sometimes you don’t get what you want—especially out of other flawed individuals—so MOVE THE FUCK ON! Everyone doesn’t deserve an explanation.

When I made the decision to leave my first husband it wasn’t an easy decision but it was a definite one. I had laid down the law of expectations and those expectations were not being met. While I was in it I was fighting, I was accepting, forgiving, tolerating and trying to make it work but once it was done…well, it was done. I didn’t feel the need to explain why I was leaving; I made the cause and effect clear. If certain behavior continues, I will leave. The behavior continued and I left with no further need for discussion. Talking is EXHAUSTING and sometimes the most difficult way to interpret a situation. I learn so much more about people by ignoring their words, shutting up and observing actions instead. There is power in the closed mouth and I only wish I had known this about 10 years ago! I’ve wasted so much time telling people off, explaining to them who I am and “what they’re NOT gonna do”; when I could have just not said anything and let the chips fall where they may.

It’s Ok Not to Care


You do care– or else you would not have said anything or posted this at all!

I sat home one day, mouth agape as I watched Ellen DeGeneres burst into tears on my television screen. (Anyone who really knows me knows that I love Ellen, she’s awesome, corny and you can’t tell me she’s not an angel sent from heaven to teach us to be kind and dance and be goofy to one another). As it turns out, she was bawling over the plight of some homeless dogs or something. I don’t really remember, to me it was kind of stupid and I don’t care that much about animals.  I see those sappy Sarah McLachlan commercials and I feel nothing, and when these issues pop up on my social media feeds I don’t comment or like because I don’t care.

Especially when it comes to Facebook, my timeline reads like CNN on steroids—reporting stories of missing children, weather alerts, social injustices, videotaped violence, prisoners on the run etc etc. Seriously, I can’t possibly keep up and I’m not sure I would know how to without my brain exploding. I observe everything that’s posted but I don’t dare comment on everything because that’s how you end up looking like an ignorant fool. Yes, I’m talking to you accidentally racist people.

Listen, DO NOT hashtag #AllLivesMatter on any social media—of course ALL lives matter but it’s not ALL people getting their asses beat by the police for trivial and/or alleged crimes every day. For every movement there does not have to be a counter movement—shutting the fuck up is ALWAYS an option. You have the space to talk about whatever you please on your social media but nowadays people not only lack empathy and sensitivity but they get into the habit of spouting their opinions as if they are fact. If you do not feel moved by any particular hot topic or subject matter it is completely acceptable and respectable to stay quiet about it in general. A few weeks ago, the biggest controversy was that the world was paying attention to Caitlyn Jenner as a distraction from the real news issues at hand. Well, not really… if you personally care more about race issues, politics or your grandmother’s 90th birthday it’s perfectly acceptable to stay in your lane on those things. You don’t HAVE to talk about or acknowledge Caitlyn (or any Kardashian thereof) at all! One of my main gripes with social media is the social pressure to speak up and speak out but a lot of the same people sounding off are also deleting commentary they dislike or disagree with. That’s not really how this works…

Bottom line: not every battle is yours to fight. People seem so combative these days, wielding their personal opinions like swords and are so quick to stab you with their advice or good intentions. In some situations, people end up having more respect for you if you don’t say anything at all. This strategy may not apply in every single situation, but I do think it would be good for folks to remember shutting your piehole is always an option and perfecting the art of when to be silent and when to speak is probably one of the most valuable weapons any of us could ever carry in our arsenals.*


Or the ones who truly DON’T care

*Of course this whole blog is made up of my opinion on the subject matter and one could argue that by writing this I am not practicing the art of STFU…

Nutrisystem Diaries – 3.17

NSD 3.17

Too much filter

Reason #3,467 of why I want to lose weight:
If I am anything above a size 10-12 I look like a chubby video hoe in whatever I wear!

I put on an outfit this morning that was supposed to say “Its warm outside. I will dress accordingly and professionally. ” However, by the time I got off the bus with my pencil skirt riding high and my tank top riding low, I think I was saying,  “Everyone step back please…I may twerk at any moment!” (Yes I am obsessed with twerking but only because I feel like it looks like I can do it but I can’t. I’m a walking false advertisement.)

Anyway, this is not how want to look while going over expense reports with my boss. Weight loss has to happen because I’m too poor and too vain to start buying baggier clothes. At the very least, I am grateful this skirt doesn’t have a slit in it anywhere. Seriously, what kind of sadistic, perverted fashion designer came up with that bullshit?

You Better WERK!!!

Working Girl

It is with great relief I can finally say, I am working at a full-time job once again! Take THAT, US Government—because contrary to popular belief, it is not my wish to live under the thumb of government assistance forever. I do admit that it will suck having to pay for my own groceries (like some kind of ANIMAL!), but I’m happy to regain my independence.

Unfortunately, working again is going to eat up a lot of my blog time. No more late nights writing whilst spilling Pringles crumbs all over my keyboard…However, this job does give me access to more sources that pertain to the subject matter of the blog which will eventually help me to take things in a more broad direction. I appreciate talking about myself immensely, but I do plan to learn and grow enough to start providing more resources and practical applications as well as entertainment for those who follow the blog.

Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe

ANYWAY, I titled this entry the go to mantra of most drag queens everywhere because I just wanted to pat myself on the back for once, dammit! I’ve thought long and hard about my goals and life direction and I finally feel like I am at least in view of the path that’s going to lead me in the right direction. I am fully aware that I am not perfect; I am poor, indulgent, irresponsible, messy, selfish, I snap at the kids when I’m tired, I cry in the bath tub, I drink too much and I should probably re-evaluate my sex life—I HAVE ISSUES!

Be that as it may, I am an adult that knows where I am lacking and I am working—however slowly—to get my shit together. I think the worst thing anyone can do is pass judgment or make a comment about your progress just at the moment when you think you have it all figured out. I had a family member come to town and (I won’t drag this story out) she basically gave me a “talking to” and told me that I was too old to have a messy house and that I needed to get myself together for the sake of my children. Ummmm…excuse me? (…not to mention that the apartment was particularly messy at the time because I had just thrown a birthday party for my brother the night before). I confess, I am messy. People who are sort of anal retentive about keeping things neat and clean don’t understand the lives of people who just don’t give a shit about that sort of thing. As a good hostess I always have things clean for company, but when it’s just me and the kids my peace of mind is more important to me than a vacuumed floor. PLUS, there is nothing more disheartening than constantly having to clean up after two small children—I am convinced it is the lost chapter of a cycle of hell in Dante’s The Inferno. You can walk into the house of a devil worshipping crackwhore prostitute and assume she has it together simply because she puts her Swiffer to good use—who are you to judge? It takes concentrated effort for me to keep my apartment immaculate; effort I just do not have at this time. BUT; it is just that: MY APARTMENT!

I can’t express enough what a struggle it has been for me to simply keep from being evicted from aforementioned apartment while making so little money on unemployment. It also hasn’t been that much fun looking for work, wasting time in ill-fitting suits and wondering if something is in my teeth on job interviews that ultimately amounted to nothing. Even with landing this job, for me, the transition back into the workforce has been stressful and managing my fears about being mentally able to even keep a job is full-time work in itself. I am positive that somewhere in America sits a CEO that used to be a homeless woman in Alaska, barefoot in the snow and living in an abandoned igloo with her 17 kids—but whatever! That’s her story of triumph, not mine. You can never evaluate someone’s hardships and come to the conclusion they should “get over it” because there is no way to determine just how a particular situation can adversely effect the outcome of someone’s life. I am accused of being dramatic all the time (-_-)  and it has been insinuated by more than one person that I use mental health issues as a crutch to keep from doing better– but none are qualified to say as much because no one but myself is even aware of what my definition of BETTER is…I’m not letting any more bitches kill my vibe. I know what I’m doing.

Babe, I’m Working

Sometimes people come into your life and examine it from the outside looking in and proceed to project their own personal beliefs, experiences and successes onto you. I cannot handle this. My initial reaction to the, “get your shit together” talk was to be sensitive. I retreated into my feelings, opened a beer but was too emo to drink it, and I cried. Will I ever be good enough? I’ve been fired TWICE, living off unemployment and the government—but I managed not to lose my apartment and not even a year later I am working full-time again—is that not enough?!

As it turns out: it is for me. When I lay in that bath tub at my parent’s house a few years ago (what IS it with me and bath tubs?) absently swiping at my wrist with a razor blade and daring myself to go through with it, I never imagined that I would be here. I feel like I have completely imploded and I’m now in the middle of the rubble slowly picking up pieces and rebuilding. I don’t need any outside construction companies to come with their heavy duty machines to try to speed up the process and “help” me along the way. I got this.

As I told a concerned friend a few weeks ago, don’t worry about me. I am definitely taking the the long way around but I’m positive I will get there. I am employed again and I am constantly working on myself to be healthier and stronger for my children, to be happy, and to be able to proceed with my life without getting derailed by the negative perceptions and comments of others. I think I’m ok if my kids grow up and say, “The house was never clean but Mommy sure worked her ass off to provide what we needed.” I eventually wish to go back into Super Mom status with home cooked meals, soccer practice, clean floors and cupcakes at the PTA meeting—but I’m not going to rush things and overwhelm myself at the moment. There was a musician I semi-dated, and whenever I would go to his gigs I could never understand why he wasn’t more social and ready to party after the show. He would sometimes calmly say to me: Babe, I’m working. It really didn’t seem like it to me, it looked like he was having a nice, relaxing time doing something he loved but what the hell did I know? From the outside looking in I may appear idle or unmotivated or as if I’m doing nothing at all, but I know that I have a plan; I’m working. 😉

Can Someone Help Me With My Box?

Day 2: Uncomfortable Incidences: I spilled an entire trash can full of shredded documents on the floor of my bosses’ office– enough said

Missed Connections: S/o to short haired girl on metro with Super Mario Bros t-shirt and awesome dubstep/dance playlist on her headphones.

I brought Ramen noodles but no bowl to microwave it in. I also chose to wear a blazer over a one piece jumpsuit  so I had to get completely naked to use the bathroom…sometimes I really do hate myself. On top of that, I lied to the sweetest woman in the world today (my supervisor). I told her I might need to take an important call on my cell phone. She was fine with it and nice enough to ask me if it was from an interviewer and what job it was for. It was an interview alright– but it was social services calling to let me know if I’m eligible for food stamps or not. So, in order to avoid the awkwardness of my honesty I just told her I interviewed for some EA job. Seriously, it’s as if the universe doesn’t think I’m aware of how poor I am and keeps creating scenarios to remind me!

I also wrestled with bankers boxes all morning. It took me way too long to assemble the first one, so much time that I’m wondering if I should just add the phrase “idiot savant” to the special skills section of my resumè. I was also preoccupied most of the day. Working with boxes had me focused on the state of my very own box and thinking salacious thoughts. Just as I was seriously (sort of) contemplating celibacy, a sexy proposition falls into my lap and it’s looking like I just might be in the mindset to accept the offer. I need some discipline…and more whiskey.

–Your Homie

I Hope There’s No Camera in the Break Room

Day 1: Uncomfortable Incidences

            Got lost on my way to the bathroom (this is a given)

            Accidentally knocked down paper towel roll

It appears some of my cheap ass nail polish has smeared onto a few  documents

 I’ve squoze back into my little work pencil skirt and here I am, behind a desk again. The awesome upside is that because I’m specialized in the accounting field I get paid a little bit more than the average temp to essentially do the same filing and data entry crap. For this I am grateful! I’m sure I don’t have to share exactly how and why temp work absolutely sucks. For starters, I’ve met everyone on staff via awkward hellos as they were en route to the breakroom and/or bathroom. Also, you have to get a key from the receptionist to use the bathroom and I’m just not sure Mary and I are that close where she should be privy to my bathroom habits.

This morning I walked into the break room and the very first thing I noticed was the huge screen tv in the corner and a bottle of wine next to the coffee pot– things were looking up! However, microwaving my leftovers for lunch I noticed there was organic ketchup in the condiments drawer soooo I’m just hoping to successfully avoid the person that belongs to. (Organic ketchup = douchebag). I’m working for these cute little ladies that are all chatty and no clear directions. They’re so busy they barely wait to even listen to all I have to say before they’re moving on to the next thing– which works for me because I trail off the end of my sentences anyway because lazy. The major dilemma of the morning is that my breath smelled appalling. I usually keep gum in my purse but I had to swap out my hippie “Jerusalem” sack that my parents gave me when they went to Israel, for a regular purse and some stuff got lost in the transition. So, I’m towering over these tiny women with my awful breath and I think I know what a fire breathing dragon feels like.  You know, minus the power of setting people on fire to get what I want. Wow, this is starting to sound crazy!  Goodbye for now, I’ll keep you posted on day two.

Notes to self:

-Stop saying “yeah” say “yes.”

-Maybe less eyeliner tomorrow, your eyes keep watering.

-Bring snacks, you are HUNGRY!

-Remember the high powered electric stapler makes a loud noise and try not to shit yourself every.single. time you staple something!

–Ur Homie