I am Malala

I don't have much to say other than watch this video from Jon Stewart.

The take away here is we don't fight violence with violence. We fight it with peace, education, and dialogue.
And that's what makes us better people...and that's what will change the world.

Watch Here

Smile

I hope this blog post turns out better than the last one. I've been having problems with the look of my blog...posts crawling over one another and looking generally unpleasant.
Can't seem to find a help section either.
Anyways, that's not what this is about.

I'm sure you've heard the sayings about smiling. It takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile. Peace begins with a smile. Smiling burns calories. All people smile in the same language.

I mean, I'm the first to admit that I don't always walk around with a smile on my face. Let's be honest, if we did that people would probably think we escaped from the nearest mental institution.
One of my friends posted something on facebook the other day and it generated a lot of buzz.

"When is the last time someone told you to smile? How often does it happen?"
There was a lot of responses like:
-I hate when people do that. If I wanted to be smiling I would be.  
-Men consider us ornaments that should be smiling at all times 
-My knee jerk reaction would be to give them the middle finger

Really, people? I again go back to wondering how our society would be different if we weren't all so angry and jaded people. 
 
I've had people tell me to smile. I didn't immediately want to grab them by the throat and murder them. Nor did I ever think a male was telling me to hop on up and make him a sammich and do it with a smile on my face for his pleasure.

My response was:
"So what? Maybe I'd like to see you smile to brighten my day. Maybe I think you're having a bad day and I think a smile would help you. Maybe it's just so you know someone is thinking of you and your feelings. I don't know why we have to turn everything into a women's lib argument or an I can't believe someone would have the gall. Take it for what it's worth and it's probably a nice gesture. Not everyone in the world is out to get you."


Modern society is cynical and jaded and it appears even telling someone to smile is a no-no these days. What happened to the days of saying hello to your neighbor? Opening the door for someone? Offering to carry a bag or two? Some people suggest TV and the violence we are exposed to numbs us to these things. Is that true? If it is, what's the fix? When we cut ourselves off from that aspect of the world do we grow up with a unrealistic view, forcing us into a different quandry of not being prepared for the pains the world will throw at us? Or would the pains of the world go away?

I guess I don't have all the answers. I think, though, my advice is going to once again try to think of the days before when you could borrow a cup of sugar without getting a door slammed in your face. A softer, gentler society. And maybe next time when someone tells you to smile, maybe next time you smile. And maybe next time you smile, it fixes what ails you or at least lifts your spirits.

Children in the workplace

It's fiscal quarter close at my workplace this week. People are on high alert, high stress, high everything. If you don't work in a business that has a fiscal quarter end you might not understand the incredible amount of work that goes along with this. On a normal day my job is high stress, but take that and double it...no triple it and you might have an idea.

We try to make things fun around here. So please don't think I'm a prude who goes to work and type, type, type, finance this, work to the third power that. We've had ugly Tshirt day, potlucks, and today we had a "beef off." We dress up for Halloween. We built (with WOOD and screws and nails) a giant present at Christmas time that you could ENTER. And we don't mind visitors to distract us from our work. Especially when you are a former employee! Old friend! Come sit by the fire and tell me a tale!

BUT.
(You had to know that was coming.)

When you bring your two toddlers in with you who are screaming and yelling and distracting my employees and being so loud people can't be off mute on their conference calls for a mere second, we have an issue. I know there was a blog post recently that caused everyone to go all wonky about some lady who said some snide comment in a grocery store about a screaming child. While I sympathize with parents and I don't necessarily think that woman had any right to make a comment like that to a stranger, I don't disagree.

I don't have children. This is part of the reason WHY I don't have children at this point in my life. I know this will piss some people off. I'm ok with that. I don't mean it personally. I know that you can't ALWAYS control your children. I'm not going to fault you for your child having a fit in the middle of Target (although to be fair, I probably will roll my eyes a bit). I just think maybe we be smart about it? When I'm going out to dinner at a fancy restaurant the last thing I want to hear is your child screaming in the booth next to me. Get a babysitter. If I'm at Applebees? Have at it. When I'm going to see an R rated movie, having your child bouncing in the seat in front of me is not going to make me happy. If I subject myself to seeing the Smurf's by all means, bounce away.

But I especially find fault with you at the workplace. Shame on you for not knowing better. Bring your child for a visit. I like to see little Jimmy's crusty face once in a while and see how you are doing. But ESPECIALLY being a former employee, good god, know the time and the place. And if your child starts acting up, that's your queue to start exiting stage left.

The American Dream

That's what we all want, right? A chance to build a career, make money, live our lives in our grand houses, driving our awesome cars, and to be happy.

I think, if I had the chance, I'd be an entrepreneur. I feel like I have a lot of good ideas, just don't have the cash to fund those ideas, you know? I'd love to start my own business. But it would have to be a business that I know I could live on. I'd love to be a wedding planner or have my own interior design company. But for me to do that, I'd have to know I'd succeed.

So, I guess, I'm not sure if this post is out of jealousy or if I really am kind of wondering what the hell The American Dream is coming down to.

I was alerted to this new "business" starting in Madison. It's a Snuggle House. Yep. A Snuggle House. Nothing inappropriate (allegedly). I had no idea there was a market for such a thing? Sure, touch therapy is a real thing. I was advised by a nurse that when I had anxiety attacks I should have my husband massage my shoulders or legs in a circular motion because touch is proven to help anxiety.

There's even a form of "therapeutic touch" (that isn't actually touching, but a transfer of energy)
that is used in cancer treatment as an alternative therapy.

"Therapeutic Touch (TT) is a technique in which the hands are used to direct human energy for healing purposes. There is usually no actual physical contact.

The practice of Therapeutic Touch is based on the belief that problems in the patient's energy field that cause illness and pain can be identified and rebalanced by a healer. Harmful energy is believed to cause blockages and other problems in the patient's normal energy flow, and proponents of TT claim the treatment removes those blockages. TT is promoted by some to improve conditions such as pain, fever, swelling, infections, wounds, ulcers, thyroid problems, colic, burns, nausea, premenstrual syndrome, diarrhea, and headaches. They also say that TT is useful in treating diseases such as measles, Alzheimer's disease, AIDS, asthma, autism, multiple sclerosis, stroke, comas, and cancer. In practice, TT is generally promoted as a complementary therapy, to be used with standard medical care."

However, I would like to talk to said owner of Snuggle House and ask him how he came up with this idea and his intent. I would also like to talk to said clients of Snuggle House and ask them what makes the idea of being snuggled by complete strangers appealing to them. 

This is America. You can open whatever business you choose. That's why we're America. But, hey Americans? I feel like, you know, just as one American to another, since we're kind of on the outs with the rest of the world, we should bond together against ridiculous things like this and focus on being semi normal. 
I mean it's just a thought, but maybe we could spend our money on making our homeless not homeless. Or feeding our hungry. Or building transit systems across the United States to reduce our carbon footprint. Or maybe you don't even want to help anyone else. That's cool too. Maybe you want to save your hard earned money and travel and see what else is out there! Broaden your horizons, educate, learn about different cultures! 

Good on ya, Snuggle House. You're living The American Dream. Can't hold that against you. Or can I?

How Pink are you?

So, as a habit, I don't normally go around reading obituaries, just so we're clear. One of my dear friends shared this obituary with me today, though, from our local paper and it made me cry and smile and it warmed my heart and it made me want to be a better person all at once.

How does someone, whom you've never met, make an impact like that after she's gone? Because I want to be that person.

Mary aka Pink touched more people than I could ever dream of touching. (For those of you who are too lazy to click the link, shame on you and shame on me for enabling you)

If you're about to throw away an old pair of pantyhose, stop. Consider: Mary Agnes Mullaney (you probably knew her as "Pink") who entered eternal life on Sunday, September 1, 2013. Her spirit is carried on by her six children, 17 grandchildren, three surviving siblings in New "Joisey", and an extended family of relations and friends from every walk of life. We were blessed to learn many valuable lessons from Pink during her 85 years, among them: Never throw away old pantyhose. Use the old ones to tie gutters, child-proof cabinets, tie toilet flappers, or hang Christmas ornaments. Also: If a possum takes up residence in your shed, grab a barbecue brush to coax him out. If he doesn't leave, brush him for twenty minutes and let him stay. Let a dog (or two or three) share your bed. Say the rosary while you walk them. Go to church with a chicken sandwich in your purse. Cry at the consecration, every time. Give the chicken sandwich to your homeless friend after mass. Go to a nursing home and kiss everyone. When you learn someone's name, share their patron saint's story, and their feast day, so they can celebrate. Invite new friends to Thanksgiving dinner. If they are from another country and you have trouble understanding them, learn to "listen with an accent." Never say mean things about anybody; they are "poor souls to pray for." Put picky-eating children in the box at the bottom of the laundry chute, tell them they are hungry lions in a cage, and feed them veggies through the slats. Correspond with the imprisoned and have lunch with the cognitively challenged. Do the Jumble every morning. Keep the car keys under the front seat so they don't get lost. Make the car dance by lightly tapping the brakes to the beat of songs on the radio. Offer rides to people carrying a big load or caught in the rain or summer heat. Believe the hitchhiker you pick up who says he is a landscaper and his name is "Peat Moss." Help anyone struggling to get their kids into a car or shopping cart or across a parking lot. Give to every charity that asks. Choose to believe the best about what they do with your money, no matter what your children say they discovered online. Allow the homeless to keep warm in your car while you are at Mass. Take magazines you've already read to your doctors' office for others to enjoy. Do not tear off the mailing label, "Because if someone wants to contact me, that would be nice." In her lifetime, Pink made contact time after time. Those who've taken her lessons to heart will continue to ensure that a cold drink will be left for the overheated garbage collector and mail carrier, every baby will be kissed, every nursing home resident will be visited, the hungry will have a sandwich, the guest will have a warm bed and soft nightlight, and the encroaching possum will know the soothing sensation of a barbecue brush upon its back. - See more at: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/jsonline/obituary.aspx?n=mary-a-mullaney-pink&pid=166788801&fhid=17777#fbLoggedOut

" If you're about to throw away an old pair of pantyhose, stop. Consider: Mary Agnes Mullaney (you probably knew her as "Pink") who entered eternal life on Sunday, September 1, 2013. Her spirit is carried on by her six children, 17 grandchildren, three surviving siblings in New "Joisey", and an extended family of relations and friends from every walk of life. We were blessed to learn many valuable lessons from Pink during her 85 years, among them: Never throw away old pantyhose. Use the old ones to tie gutters, child-proof cabinets, tie toilet flappers, or hang Christmas ornaments. Also: If a possum takes up residence in your shed, grab a barbecue brush to coax him out. If he doesn't leave, brush him for twenty minutes and let him stay. Let a dog (or two or three) share your bed. Say the rosary while you walk them. Go to church with a chicken sandwich in your purse. Cry at the consecration, every time. Give the chicken sandwich to your homeless friend after mass. Go to a nursing home and kiss everyone. When you learn someone's name, share their patron saint's story, and their feast day, so they can celebrate. Invite new friends to Thanksgiving dinner. If they are from another country and you have trouble understanding them, learn to "listen with an accent." Never say mean things about anybody; they are "poor souls to pray for." Put picky-eating children in the box at the bottom of the laundry chute, tell them they are hungry lions in a cage, and feed them veggies through the slats. Correspond with the imprisoned and have lunch with the cognitively challenged. Do the Jumble every morning. Keep the car keys under the front seat so they don't get lost. Make the car dance by lightly tapping the brakes to the beat of songs on the radio. Offer rides to people carrying a big load or caught in the rain or summer heat. Believe the hitchhiker you pick up who says he is a landscaper and his name is "Peat Moss." Help anyone struggling to get their kids into a car or shopping cart or across a parking lot. Give to every charity that asks. Choose to believe the best about what they do with your money, no matter what your children say they discovered online. Allow the homeless to keep warm in your car while you are at Mass. Take magazines you've already read to your doctors' office for others to enjoy. Do not tear off the mailing label, "Because if someone wants to contact me, that would be nice." In her lifetime, Pink made contact time after time. Those who've taken her lessons to heart will continue to ensure that a cold drink will be left for the overheated garbage collector and mail carrier, every baby will be kissed, every nursing home resident will be visited, the hungry will have a sandwich, the guest will have a warm bed and soft nightlight, and the encroaching possum will know the soothing sensation of a barbecue brush upon its back."

What do you say about a woman like this? I wish I had known her. It makes me a little sad because day after day you see the news stories about women being kidnapped or guns being shot or children being caught in a cross fire. That's the world we live in, but that's not the world Pink lived in. She lived in a world where you trusted and you helped others and you gave of yourself no matter what the circumstances.

This blog is leaving me doing a lot of wondering...I wonder what would happen if we all lived in Pink's world. Would we improve the lives of the people around us and as a result of that stop some of the bad things that are continuously happening? Would we change one person, who changed another, who stopped someone from being that person that did an inherently evil thing and change the course of many lives?

It's an interesting thought isn't it?
How Pink are you?

If you're about to throw away an old pair of pantyhose, stop. Consider: Mary Agnes Mullaney (you probably knew her as "Pink") who entered eternal life on Sunday, September 1, 2013. Her spirit is carried on by her six children, 17 grandchildren, three surviving siblings in New "Joisey", and an extended family of relations and friends from every walk of life. We were blessed to learn many valuable lessons from Pink during her 85 years, among them: Never throw away old pantyhose. Use the old ones to tie gutters, child-proof cabinets, tie toilet flappers, or hang Christmas ornaments. Also: If a possum takes up residence in your shed, grab a barbecue brush to coax him out. If he doesn't leave, brush him for twenty minutes and let him stay. Let a dog (or two or three) share your bed. Say the rosary while you walk them. Go to church with a chicken sandwich in your purse. Cry at the consecration, every time. Give the chicken sandwich to your homeless friend after mass. Go to a nursing home and kiss everyone. When you learn someone's name, share their patron saint's story, and their feast day, so they can celebrate. Invite new friends to Thanksgiving dinner. If they are from another country and you have trouble understanding them, learn to "listen with an accent." Never say mean things about anybody; they are "poor souls to pray for." Put picky-eating children in the box at the bottom of the laundry chute, tell them they are hungry lions in a cage, and feed them veggies through the slats. Correspond with the imprisoned and have lunch with the cognitively challenged. Do the Jumble every morning. Keep the car keys under the front seat so they don't get lost. Make the car dance by lightly tapping the brakes to the beat of songs on the radio. Offer rides to people carrying a big load or caught in the rain or summer heat. Believe the hitchhiker you pick up who says he is a landscaper and his name is "Peat Moss." Help anyone struggling to get their kids into a car or shopping cart or across a parking lot. Give to every charity that asks. Choose to believe the best about what they do with your money, no matter what your children say they discovered online. Allow the homeless to keep warm in your car while you are at Mass. Take magazines you've already read to your doctors' office for others to enjoy. Do not tear off the mailing label, "Because if someone wants to contact me, that would be nice." In her lifetime, Pink made contact time after time. Those who've taken her lessons to heart will continue to ensure that a cold drink will be left for the overheated garbage collector and mail carrier, every baby will be kissed, every nursing home resident will be visited, the hungry will have a sandwich, the guest will have a warm bed and soft nightlight, and the encroaching possum will know the soothing sensation of a barbecue brush upon its back. - See more at: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/jsonline/obituary.aspx?n=mary-a-mullaney-pink&pid=166788801&fhid=17777#fbLoggedOut

If you're about to throw away an old pair of pantyhose, stop. Consider: Mary Agnes Mullaney (you probably knew her as "Pink") who entered eternal life on Sunday, September 1, 2013. Her spirit is carried on by her six children, 17 grandchildren, three surviving siblings in New "Joisey", and an extended family of relations and friends from every walk of life. We were blessed to learn many valuable lessons from Pink during her 85 years, among them: Never throw away old pantyhose. Use the old ones to tie gutters, child-proof cabinets, tie toilet flappers, or hang Christmas ornaments. Also: If a possum takes up residence in your shed, grab a barbecue brush to coax him out. If he doesn't leave, brush him for twenty minutes and let him stay. Let a dog (or two or three) share your bed. Say the rosary while you walk them. Go to church with a chicken sandwich in your purse. Cry at the consecration, every time. Give the chicken sandwich to your homeless friend after mass. Go to a nursing home and kiss everyone. When you learn someone's name, share their patron saint's story, and their feast day, so they can celebrate. Invite new friends to Thanksgiving dinner. If they are from another country and you have trouble understanding them, learn to "listen with an accent." Never say mean things about anybody; they are "poor souls to pray for." Put picky-eating children in the box at the bottom of the laundry chute, tell them they are hungry lions in a cage, and feed them veggies through the slats. Correspond with the imprisoned and have lunch with the cognitively challenged. Do the Jumble every morning. Keep the car keys under the front seat so they don't get lost. Make the car dance by lightly tapping the brakes to the beat of songs on the radio. Offer rides to people carrying a big load or caught in the rain or summer heat. Believe the hitchhiker you pick up who says he is a landscaper and his name is "Peat Moss." Help anyone struggling to get their kids into a car or shopping cart or across a parking lot. Give to every charity that asks. Choose to believe the best about what they do with your money, no matter what your children say they discovered online. Allow the homeless to keep warm in your car while you are at Mass. Take magazines you've already read to your doctors' office for others to enjoy. Do not tear off the mailing label, "Because if someone wants to contact me, that would be nice." In her lifetime, Pink made contact time after time. Those who've taken her lessons to heart will continue to ensure that a cold drink will be left for the overheated garbage collector and mail carrier, every baby will be kissed, every nursing home resident will be visited, the hungry will have a sandwich, the guest will have a warm bed and soft nightlight, and the encroaching possum will know the soothing sensation of a barbecue brush upon its back. - See more at: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/jsonline/obituary.aspx?n=mary-a-mullaney-pink&pid=166788801&fhid=17777#fbLoggedOut

If you're about to throw away an old pair of pantyhose, stop. Consider: Mary Agnes Mullaney (you probably knew her as "Pink") who entered eternal life on Sunday, September 1, 2013. Her spirit is carried on by her six children, 17 grandchildren, three surviving siblings in New "Joisey", and an extended family of relations and friends from every walk of life. We were blessed to learn many valuable lessons from Pink during her 85 years, among them: Never throw away old pantyhose. Use the old ones to tie gutters, child-proof cabinets, tie toilet flappers, or hang Christmas ornaments. Also: If a possum takes up residence in your shed, grab a barbecue brush to coax him out. If he doesn't leave, brush him for twenty minutes and let him stay. Let a dog (or two or three) share your bed. Say the rosary while you walk them. Go to church with a chicken sandwich in your purse. Cry at the consecration, every time. Give the chicken sandwich to your homeless friend after mass. Go to a nursing home and kiss everyone. When you learn someone's name, share their patron saint's story, and their feast day, so they can celebrate. Invite new friends to Thanksgiving dinner. If they are from another country and you have trouble understanding them, learn to "listen with an accent." Never say mean things about anybody; they are "poor souls to pray for." Put picky-eating children in the box at the bottom of the laundry chute, tell them they are hungry lions in a cage, and feed them veggies through the slats. Correspond with the imprisoned and have lunch with the cognitively challenged. Do the Jumble every morning. Keep the car keys under the front seat so they don't get lost. Make the car dance by lightly tapping the brakes to the beat of songs on the radio. Offer rides to people carrying a big load or caught in the rain or summer heat. Believe the hitchhiker you pick up who says he is a landscaper and his name is "Peat Moss." Help anyone struggling to get their kids into a car or shopping cart or across a parking lot. Give to every charity that asks. Choose to believe the best about what they do with your money, no matter what your children say they discovered online. Allow the homeless to keep warm in your car while you are at Mass. Take magazines you've already read to your doctors' office for others to enjoy. Do not tear off the mailing label, "Because if someone wants to contact me, that would be nice." In her lifetime, Pink made contact time after time. Those who've taken her lessons to heart will continue to ensure that a cold drink will be left for the overheated garbage collector and mail carrier, every baby will be kissed, every nursing home resident will be visited, the hungry will have a sandwich, the guest will have a warm bed and soft nightlight, and the encroaching possum will know the soothing sensation of a barbecue brush upon its back. - See more at: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/jsonline/obituary.aspx?n=mary-a-mullaney-pink&pid=166788801&fhid=17777#fbLoggedOut

Is your life perfect?

Mine isn't. That's for sure. I think those of you who know me personally and have read my previous blog or are starting to read this one know I've got my own demons.

One of my facebook friends posted this today, though, and it got me thinking.

"I was told, because we have the ability to easily curate our lives on Facebook, most of us sculpt out a framework of our happiest selves to show the world. What studies have found, is that it is causing depression amongst a lot of our peers. Why? Because they aren't getting the full picture of their friend's lives, and they think it's "perfect".

 It made me think. I'm not sure what's going on in my head or what this post will result in, but it truly made me think. I think about how I go back and forth. In today's day of social media when I see people posting about how perfect their lives, their husbands, their jobs are and never posting anything negative, I wonder to myself what horrible thing they are hiding. But then sometimes I think maybe their lives really are that perfect and I wonder where I went wrong. 

In reality, I know that everyone has their "thing." Maybe even five "things." Maybe even ten. I've got my anxiety. I've got my body image issues. But I also have a great husband and family and friends. So I think we've all got a little bit of perfection in our lives and a little bit of disaster. 

Then I started really thinking about how social media is both a curse and a blessing. Without social media I would never have joined CCFA, would never have made some very good friends, would never have gotten my own billboard, would never have done a lot of things. I also wouldn't spend hours on my phone at night instead of interacting with my husband. I also wouldn't feel lost without my phone five inches from my hands. I also wouldn't feel the need to report every ounce of my life to all of my 1400 twitter followers who are OBVIOUSLY hanging on every word I say. 

I think we use social media to post the best parts of our lives so we can get the "atta boy" we're looking for. Some validation...which relates back to my more recent post about letting people know when they are doing a good job. 
I wonder, if instead of us all posting only the good things, and we all posted the real things, if social media would get old and tired. If people would get sick of hearing about the "real" in your face every day dirt about life. I mean, I've got my own grit I have to deal with, why do I want to hear about yours, right? Or would it help us as a society be less depressed thinking everyone has it better? 

I guess I just leave you with this. No one...no matter what they put out there has a perfect life. Everyone has a demon or a skeleton in their closet. Maybe it is marriage issues, maybe it is depression and anxiety, maybe it is something you couldn't even imagine in your wildest dreams. And maybe, instead of focusing on whether or not their lives are perfect or whether we're doing all we can, we should just be there for one another. Support each other as human beings through the good and the bad and leave all that other junk in the dust where it belongs.

Kittens and Kids

We got a new kitten this weekend. Her name is Fritzie. She joins a family of two others,  Delta and Roxy.

Delta is 11. We got Roxy after our cats Ellie and Christopher passed away within a month of each other. Roxy is almost two and she's having a hard time accepting Fritzie into our lives. Which is funny, since Delta gave her the business when she moved in. I keep trying to have rational conversations with her and asking her if she remembers how she felt when Delta hissed at her constantly, but frankly, at this point, she's acting like a real ass.

Actually, honestly, Fritzie came home from getting spayed yesterday and while Roxy is still hissing at all of the things, including chairs, they did all eat off of the same plate this morning. That's big progress.

I have always said that I will not have children. That was a weird jump, hey? From cats to children? I basically consider my cats my children, and I know people get really, like, puffy tailed and feather ruffled when you compare animals and children, but whatever. It's a thing. Fritzie came home from getting spayed yesterday evening and she was so doped up on anesthesia she was falling over and running into walls. While hysterical at its core, it made me freaked out and nervous to go to bed. And now I'm extra anxious about her incision and whether or not it is healing properly and whether her tattoo is ok.

I'm going to pause there for a second and let that set in. I did say tattoo. I guess, now, when cats get fixed, they also tattoo them so that if they were to get lost and someone were to take them in to get fixed they could see they've already had the procedure done. I mean, I have tattoos, so I get it. However, I sort of feel like there's a better way to do this, because first of all, now my cat has a giant green tattoo blob on her belly and second of all, it's not even anything cool like a pirate ship.

Anyways. I have enough anxiety about my own health. When it comes to my cats, that gets doubled. Possibly even tripled. They sneeze and I think they probably have some rare form of African Bird Flu that got transmitted through a fruit fly that maybe got let in when I went out on the porch.

This is part of the reason I will most likely not have children. (I say most likely because I've been telling people for years it's not happening, and if I ever change my mind I really don't want to hear the I told you so's). Not only am I super selfish...take away my Saturday afternoon nap and someone is going to get hurt, but I can't handle my cats getting ill, much less a child that came out of my loins that I am responsible for raising into a normal and well adjusted human being. Because, let's be honest, none of this *points to self* is normal and well adjusted.

Also, loins. I don't like that word. I don't know why I used it. I apologize to you profusely.

I don't really have a point to this post...I'm kind of just rambling today. I don't really have a take away or life lesson or quote to leave you with.
Can I just say this was your introduction into Johansen Catville and promise never to use the word loin again?

Down Under

Unfortunately, I'm not talking about Australia. That is one place I'd like to visit though. I hear it is beautiful.

In a prior blog post, I wrote about fighting for my worth at work. I fought the good fight. The result was not what I had hoped for though. Although that is the case, I am proud of myself for having the conversation. To be frank, I have a really awesome boss. Probably more awesome than I will ever have again. She gets me. She gets "it". I know that I can say almost anything to her and she will take it for what it is worth and not only listen and let me be completely honest and cry in her office, but she'll be completely honest back and also sometimes cry in her office.

I'm really thankful for that. Because even though I didn't get exactly what I wanted, I was able to be open with her and tell her how underappreciated I was feeling by the business. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a boss who will listen to that or to even have a boss you feel comfortable enough saying that to. Sometimes just being able to release those emotions to someone that matters helps.

One of the things I talked to her about today, I think relates back to the title of this blog. I know I already wrote something that relates to suffering, but this kind of fits back into it. I need to look at this as sometimes there is just suffering. Rather than I own this suffering. This suffering doesn't have to be mine. I can choose to release it now. I can choose to move on from here and take the wonderful things that were said about me today and own those. Hold onto those instead of the disappointment. I got some really great compliments,  amazing feedback, and found out that I have some really strong people in my corner that I didn't know were in my corner. I think that says a lot. I wish it said a lot more in a physical sense (what I asked for vs what I am getting), but it's something. I think it's going to take me a little while to get there, but I think that's ok too. Letting go can be hard, and I'm also not going to put pressure on myself to let go of something I'm not ready to let go of...but I know that I can choose to let go and move on when I'm ready.
And when it doesn't smart as much. (That's old timey lingo for feeling stingy).

But I think the real lesson here is the base of why I've been feeling this--which was feeling underappreciated. I had been harboring that for a very long time and it had been building for a while. I should have owned those feelings sooner. I think we can learn two things from this. People, at their core want to be appreciated. They want to feel like they matter, they want to be told they are doing a good job, because at the end of the day, everyone just wants to feel like they made a difference. They want someone to recognize that they work hard, that they give their all, and sometimes just an "I notice" makes all the difference in the world.

I read an article today, interestingly enough, that correlates to this.
One of the lines in there said "As one San Francisco university marketing professor points out, "Praise does not cost anything to give, but its benefits on employee morale are priceless."^{7 Feature Article}

What I learned today was that I needed to tell my boss what I need more of from her--and that's some recognition once in a while so that I know what I'm doing matters. The other thing that I learned is that I need to focus on doing this more with my employees. Because if I'm feeling this way, I promise at least one of them is feeling this way as well. It's easy to tell someone that they've made a mistake. It's hard to remember to take the time to tell someone they've done a wonderful job. Treat others as you'd like to be treated is the old saying. So, I'm going to work on that for my employees and I hope it will make a difference to them.

Women and numbers

I step on the scale twice a day. It's a little obsessive, I'm not going to lie. Once in the morning when I get up and then once at night before I go to bed. It's part OCD and part keeping me honest. I have figured out that I'm usually about two pounds heavier at night than I am in the morning. Why I need to figure that out is beyond me. In fact, I actually don't need to figure that out. I shouldn't know that. That's unnecessary information that is filling my head and preventing me from memorizing more important things like the latest Justin Timberlake lyrics.
Reasons to avoid the scale
I was talking to a coworker today because I'm wearing a dress for the first time in, oh I don't know, like two years, and she asked me if I felt liberated. I told her I sort of did, but mostly I just had the nervous pees because I am super uncomfortable with showing this much skin. (Which for the record, is not that much, I am not wearing a mini skirt and a tube top).

Then we got to talking because she asked me what my deal was. And I said you know, I'm really hung up on the numbers. I think a lot of women are. That scale is a little bitch (pardon my french). I started my weight loss journey two years ago in a size 24 weighing 290 lbs. As of today I am in a size 10 and I weigh 187 lbs.
A size TEN people. That means I am ONE size away from being in single digits. I can do things like run a 5k with obstacles like climbing ropes and climbing over walls. I can Zumba for an hour and feel amazing. I can do a spin class for 45 min and ENJOY it. But that NUMBER. That number kills me. that 187...I want it to be 150. I want that number to be 150 and I would be happy. But would I? Would anyone? When is it enough? I don't know the answer to that. I know that I have severe body dysmorphia. I don't look in the mirror and see a size 10. I look in the mirror and I see a pooch. And my bat wing arms. And my fat knees. FAT KNEES? Are you kidding me? Who sees fat knees, honestly.

I need to learn how to accept myself. I'm not sure I know how to get there. Do you?

Are you a dirty girl?

Get your mind out of the gutter!!!

I mean literally dirty. Like full of mud dirty. I did the Dirty Girl Mud Run and Obstacle course this weekend with my friend Sue. We had an amazing time! The Dirty Girl is a women's only 5K that helps support Breast Cancer awareness.

This was kind of a big deal to me. I have done two half marathons for the CCFA, but I walked them both. *Disclaimer time here before someone or multiple someones yell at me*
I don't mean to say "Eye roll, I WALKED a 1/2 marathon, how hard is that?" because I've been yelled at many a time for that. And, for what it is worth, I will yell at anyone else who says that. Do you know how far 13.1 miles is? It's 13.1 MILES. And whether you walk it or run it, you still did 13.1 MILES. ON YOUR FEET. Like, not in a car with an engine and four wheels.

But this 5K I ran most of it. Which is a big deal to me and my health and how far I've come. It was a big deal to me because in the past couple months I've known a couple people diagnosed with breast cancer and it was an honor to do this in their name. It was a big deal to me because this was the first time my parents were able to see me do an event like this and finish it. And it was a big deal, because, well...it was just kind of a big deal. I did a 5K AND a bunch of crazy obstacles that no one should ever have to do much less covered in mud getting into crevices mud should never be in.

But...here are some pictures of my eventful weekend. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed doing them. I'll post an update when I get the professional shots that happened throughout the course.

Displeasure, misery, uncomfortable and me

The title makes you want to read this doesn't it? Engaging to the core and I'm sure it's not making you scrunch your nose in angst at all.

If you know me personally, you probably know I'm not exactly a quiet little mouse who has the patience of Mother Theresa. In fact, if you know me personally, you probably know that patience is not usually a word in my vocabulary.
Usually when an idea pops into my head it needs to be attended to immediately. Now, some could call that OCD or Type A. Those are fine terms. Personally, I like to think I just know what I want, when I want it, and usually I want it right now like that little brat from Willy Wonka.

But I digress.

I talked about suffering and I never really looked at it like this but having to be in situations you don't like is also suffering. Pleasure and Displeasure

I had to do something today that I realllllly didn't like doing. I'm a super hard worker. It comes with that whole OCD Type A thing I talked about above. I go above and beyond constantly. I am always looking for ways to better myself and my team. And yet, I never ask for anything to make that worthwhile. Remember that book "Lean In" that's become real popular lately? It's the same concept. Women tend to think they are just lucky to have a job. Women tend to think what are the consequences that will happen to me if I ask for what I'm worth. Women don't want to make waves. It took me a long time to realize that we HAVE to make waves. I've been getting under paid for a very long time now. When I joined my company, it was my first real life job. I took what was given to me because coming from college I was RICH. When I moved to my second role here, I got such a significant increase it would have been silly for me to fight for more. I didn't have to negotiate. And then my next role, when I tried to negotiate I was asked whether or not I was in it for the opportunity or for the money. Which, for the record, is a SHITTY thing for an HR person (or any person for that matter) to say. Especially when you have an exemplary employee you are trying to retain. (By the way, did I mention I have an MBA in HR and this is STILL hard for me?)

For future reference, the correct response to that asshole question is NOT to run to your mom in panic and cry and then say I just have to take what they gave me because I'm just lucky to have a job. The correct response because THEY are lucky to have YOU is "That is an absolutely unfair question and you are comparing apples to oranges. I am an extremely dedicated, coachable, and loyal employee who will do nothing but continue to go above and beyond for you if you choose to give me this opportunity. With that being said, my expectation for all of the benefits you will reap from having me as an amazing employee is to be compensated appropriately for what I will be giving to you."

Unfortunately, I learned that later rather than sooner. When I took my latest job I was still in the mode of taking advice about not negotiating and still thinking I was just lucky to have a job. Part of that is I don't think anyone is comfortable with tooting their own horn. It's a fine line between explaining how amazing you are and getting what you deserve and having people think you're a conceited asshole.
And I'm still severly under paid because I just am not good at telling people my value.

However today, I gathered my courage, I gathered all the emails from people saying how amazing I am, I typed up my speech to my boss and I walked into her office and asked for a raise. How it will turn out is up in the air yet, but I'm glad I did it. Because I've finally decided that I'm worth it. I talked to my friend Angie this weekend about this and she said something amazing that I'm keeping in my back pocket for if the answer comes back with a no. I fight HARD for this company and and now I'm going to fight HARD for me and what I deserve. And I expect that in turn, my company will fight hard to recognize my worth.

So, the lesson for today is FIGHT. Don't think you are lucky just to have a job. Your company is lucky to have you and you deserve to be recognized. But that's on you...and no one else. It's on you to make it happen.

Monday as a Noble Truth

Monday. You think I kid when I say I hate Monday. Yeah, ok, so everyone hates Monday, right? (If you don't, again, you're super weird.)
I hate it to the point that at about 3pm on Sunday I start throwing tantrums about the following day, wondering if there is some secret witchcraft potion I can take to make Monday not show up, wondering how I could get in touch with President Obama swiftly to make him understand that Monday should not be the start of the work week, and also trying to figure out time travel. So, there's that.

When I started looking at Buddhism and The Four Noble Truths Here, I have been trying to apply them to my life. *DISCLAIMER* I don't understand this shit. I'm not Ghandi. I'm just trying to read it and apply it in some way that sort of makes sense to me. Don't take this as gospel. Please, for the love of GOD, don't use my blog as gospel or your life is going to be royally screwed.

So the First Noble Truth talks about Suffering. It says "There is suffering."

"It is important to reflect upon the phrasing of the First Noble Truth. It is phrased in a very clear way: "There is suffering", rather than "I suffer". Psychologically, that reflection is a much more skilful way to put it. We tend to interpret our suffering as "I’m really suffering. I suffer a lot - and I don’t want to suffer." This is the way our thinking mind is conditioned.
"I am suffering" always conveys the sense of "I am somebody who is suffering a lot. This suffering is mine; I’ve had a lot of suffering in my life."

But note, we are not saying there is someone who has suffering. It is not personal suffering anymore when we see it as "There is suffering". It is not: "Oh poor me, why do I have to suffer so much? What did I do to deserve this? Why do I have to get old? Why do I have to have sorrow, pain, grief and despair? It is not fair! I do not want it. I only want happiness and security." This kind of thinking comes from ignorance which complicates everything and results in personality problems.

To let go of suffering, we have to admit it into consciousness."

If I look at this in the simple terms of hating Monday, I can whine about it all I want. It's still going to show its ugly head. It's about how I deal with it. I can blame whoever created the stupid work week and it's still going to show up. And I can complain and kick and scream or I can change my own attitude. If you apply that to larger parts of your life, it's the same thing. Stop complaining that everything sucks and DO SOMETHING about it. You can only play the victim for so long in your life and at some point it's on you to change the way you think, the way you act, and the way your life happens.

I'm still going to bitch about Monday, though. That's the fifth Noble Truth.

The start of four noble truths

I have been looking for an outlet. I have a few. Shopping, exercise, torturing my cats with lasers...the usual. It seems, however, I have a lot of thoughts in my head that have been looking for a way out and apparantly they are too fat to get out of the current outlets.

Blogging for me is cathartic. I always fancy myself a writer even though my grammar is terrible and I use commas all wrong. Whatever. When I went through all my bariatric stuff, blogging was a saving grace for me. It allowed for me to get all those thoughts on paper and it somehow validated me. It made me feel like the feelings I was feeling were REAL. And they were ok. Original Blog

I have a lot of things to say, but I'll start with the reason behind "The Four Noble Truths." I'm not a Buddhist. But those teachings speak to me. I wish I could be as zen as I imagine the Buddhist are. I picture all people who practice Buddhism living in Bali, wearing sarongs, not having a care in the world. And while I know that's not true, it sure would be nice if that was a thing. (I mean, is it a thing? If it's a thing can someone tell me how I get there? I'll bring my own sarong.)

This blog is going to start with me going over teachings of the four noble truths and how I apply them to situations in my life and how I see them in other people's lives.
It's probably going to have some candid thoughts. It's probably going to be snarky a lot of the time. It's probably going be jumbled and sometimes maybe it won't make sense to anyone but me.

In my defense though, I'm super funny. So at least, if you're reading this, and you decide to stick around, you'll probably be entertained.
And if you're not, I feel like you should take a really hard look at yourself and whether or not your sense of humor is broken. Because it probably is. And you should probably see a doctor for that.