Tuesday, July 30, 2013

9 shots in 13 seconds heard across the city

These are just things to think about said by someone who likes to rant.  I write to express my thoughts because I have too many thoughts, and I hope to make us both think.

Nothing changed for anyone yesterday but the policeman who shot a kid and the kid (and his family) who was shot by a policeman.  My life didn't change, neither did yours.  Stop acting like it did, all of you. 

That one policeman, that one kid, did not change the world.  And that kid, is no Trayvon Martin.  And the shooter, not a normal everyday Joe with a racist ax to grind.  Do not compare these two stories, they are not the same, nor should they ever be said in the same breath.  Trayvon Martin was no perfect angel but he was an unarmed teenager walking home through the wrong area when a very outspoken racist tired of dealing with African Americans in his world, killed him.  He just happened to be an African American kid in the wrong place at the wrong time when his life was taken by a racist asshole.   We all saw that.  What I find odd is that a mixed race Hispanic named Zimmerman found problems with other races.  But here is that case summarized in one line; a racist shot a kid and got away with it.

I grew up in Toronto, I was born there, raised there, and only left it in my 40s.  This is a city as a child I used to run amok in.  I remembering playing in literal back alleys, it was the norm.  Me and my big wheel were big shooters in them alleys.  All the families doors were unlocked most of the day and night if anyone was home and kids, yours and others came and went.  I remember my Mom once saying "and you are?", as my friend she hadn't met ran in to use the bathroom.  I quickly explained but she didn't blink.  This is a time when kids played outside until after the street lights came on.  You know you remember when the lights went on we knew the Mom's were gonna start yelling.  And we all said "quick hide, maybe they won't call us".  It wasn't unheard but totally common place for a young girl and her bestie to walk 3 city residential blocks over to the local store at dusk to get a Lola.  I rode the TTC at 12, and at 13 bused to school alone.  High School was bus and subway, all alone.  This is not my city anymore and it's why I don't live there anymore.

My issue is not one of race, it's of attitude.  The "kids" of today's Toronto....I am gonna say it here......are really not in general, good kids.  They aren't.  If we did a majority check of teenagers today living in Toronto they either feel privileged, we owe them something, or hard done by, we owe them something.  Then there's the, we are so owed things we are going to take things.  And then there's the we are gonna do drugs so we don't care we are owed things.  Then there's those nerdy kids, excelling at school, joining dorky clubs after school, or the jocks keeping busy trying to find untraceable 'roids.  These kids generally, have parents who are vested in them, and the kids in their parents.  These kids have a bit more sense of community I think.  There aren't many of them out there.  Even mine as I type this I think, "hmmm I think they need some reminding of how they aren't owed anything but love, the rest they earn".

These kids that feel "owed", can be okay kids in the right circumstances.  In the wrong ones, watch out.  These kids like to post pictures of themselves with guns and knives on Facebook.  Gang hand signals and the finger are their poses on film.  My personal favorite, the gun signal.  A pose that says "gangsta, I will shoot you".  It's a common stance where you make your hand look like a gun, arm outstretched, the hand the gun, the finger the trigger pulled, the other hand typically in the crotch area, the common, "fuck you" sign.  They post pictures of themselves with drugs and booze well below the age of 19, because they don't care, what can you do to them?  Nothing.  Cause you owe them.   These kids wear the gangsta rap type of clothes, sometimes in specific gang colours, sometimes just a mimic of the look.  You know these kids, remember, two of them shot 13 people last year at an outdoor BBQ in Scarborough?  Or the shooter and targets at the Eaton Center shootings.  And apparently Justin Beiber wants to be one, the difference being his pants are customized to look that low and ridiculous.  These street kids buy them that way.  This is not about race or colour, it's this attitude.

I took the TTC to work back in the day, when I actually did that thing called work.  I walked over to the subway, or bus stop, depending on the year and where I lived and rode down.  I felt pretty safe.  Only once in my 20 years of TTCing had a man rubbed himself (and yes I mean himself) against me.  And only one other time had a drunk teen threatened me for my sneakers.  So, as 20 years goes, that's safe enough right?  I went into work at 7:30am, bad people I don't think get up that early so I was almost always with the exact same group of people day after day.  Once the sun went down, if it was still rush hour, I was okay on the subway.  After that, I asked my office to give me cab chits.  Because one night, a group of kids, the kind I mention above, got on the car I was on and claimed it as their own.  They were rude, and loud, and offensive, and frankly scary.  They kicked my foot when I didn't react to them, I apologized and got off at the next stop, not mine.  I felt better getting off the train than staying on it.  These kids, they scared me.  There was no respect in their eyes, I was nothing.  Even the drunk kids threatening me for shoes, I saw question in their eyes and when I saw that I knew if I stood up for myself they'd back down and lucky for me, they did.  These other kids, I knew right away to shut my mouth and get out of the situation.  That was the month I made work rent me a parking spot downtown.  I worked long hours and if that was to continue I was no longer taking the TTC, I didn't feel safe.

There are no more doors left unlocked if Mom's home alone.  There are no doors unlocked all night long if Mom and Dad are home.  10 year old girls don't walk back alleys to get Lolas anymore but 13,14,15, and 16 year olds are walking back alleys for other reasons.  There is no more standing up for the elderly on the TTC, more like "let's see if we can lift her wallet".  Events in Toronto aren't enjoyable for me, I wouldn't consider Caribana, the Jazz Fest, Samba on St. Clair, none of them.  Not because they represent different races, because the kids I mention above, let's call them "you owe me" ("YOM") kids flock to these things to party, to cause trouble, to shoot their perceived enemies in most cases without regard for anyone in the way. 

Toronto is not the Toronto I used to know.  When I was a kid we drank, we smoked pot, and maybe just maybe, we took a hit of acid *gasp*.  A 24 hour high that made you look like a total moron.  When I was a kid we were dressed in Tree Torns, Benetton, and Roots.  So even stoned on acid we looked like stupid preppy kids.  We had gangs then, they looked an awful lot like those in musicals.  Our gangs got in fights, once in a blue moon someone brought a knife.  Was like a bazooka at a sword fight, the fight just ended.  Today guns are the norm and knives are a given.  All those low pants wearing kids carry knives.  School have started do random screenings and wand scanning like at the airport for these things even.  I believe some even have full on metal detectors in the doorways.  WTF?  When I was a kid the only thing setting that off was either my roach clip or my rabbits foot clip.  Today it's for guns and knives.

I think I have covered in my day pot, and alcohol was the go to stupidity inducer.  Perhaps acid, maybe magic mushrooms (no the magic isn't in the taste), or if you were really rich, cocaine.  I never saw it, I wasn't rich.  It was really expensive back then.  The only kids who got that were the kids with that look in their eyes, the owe me look and at my school they then had money so that's the owe, they took money, they shoplifted even though they didn't need too and they did coke at parties to look cool.  These kids, not sure how many of them are still around, made it to this day and age.  I find the YOM kids tend to have a shorter life span.  If you feel you are owed and that's your attitude, you don't care, you don't want to work or earn, you may get in trouble or hurt. 

Today's kids would laugh at our pot and alcohol.  We did wine coolers and a joint, they do a bottle of JD, and snort coke, or heroin, or crystal meth.  Ecstasy and MDNA (stronger version of ecstasy) are common place, you just don't go out without it in your system.  But they make you happy and loving, our YOM kids can't be happy and loving, so they mix it up with coke, heroin, opiates, or meth.  Anything to make them stay awake and keep on fighting for their rights, YOM!  Meth which makes you crazy high, paranoid, black outs, but man, that's fun.  Or Bath Salts.  You know that new one.  Look up crystal meth or bath salt videos online.  It's crazy, these kids can't control their bodies, you can see the absolute terror in their eyes as they thrash and thrash wishing the feelings out of their bodies.  And they will do it again.  Maybe next time it will be a better high right, and the down, well that sucks, let's keep trying.  I am sure you remember Bath Salts.  There was that little story of two naked men high on Bath Salts and one ate the others face.  If you aren't sure you read that right, look it up.  He looks lovely with only half a face today.  The "eater" was shot, several times, I believe over 10, to get him to stop eating his friends face. 

For some reason a kid named Sammy Yatim boarded a TTC streetcar and made decisions that would change his life and that of his family and friends forever.  He pulled out a knife, he made threats, he exposed himself until the streetcar stopped, everyone disembarked and the kid was left alone with a knife.  We will never know why he didn't put that knife down and simply walk off the streetcar.  You see we can't know, he is dead.  He was shot dead by a Police Officer, someone else we don't know.  But I ask you to think, why didn't he simply put the knife down?  Why was he yelling and swearing he was going to kill the police?  Had he taken something, one of these scary drugs these YOMs seem to think are fun and games until someone eats another's face.  What was the look in his face that night?

Now, what was that cop thinking?  Was he racist?  Was he YOM racist?  I am, I am YOM racist.  That look, the YOM look, in groups of kids, it scares me.  I bet this cop was YOM racist, if I can be, couldn't he?  Don't you think this cop has seen hundreds of these kids spit on humanity.  Don't you think he's had a knife or gun pulled on him before with a YOM looking him in the eye without even blinking?  Or do you think it's never happened to him and he was scared.  I mean it did appear he didn't act all that rationally didn't it appear so?  Do you think this police officer has kids?  Do you think he could have been thinking about his daughter's safety in that heated moment or maybe his son, mixed up with the YOMs?  Do you think that cop could have been scared shitless about a kid with a knife threatening to kill him?  Do you think it's possible?  Beyond a reasonable doubt, can you say he did it to shoot someone, that's it, something he's always wanted to do?

I bet one things for sure, that kid was scared.  Facing all those cops with guns, there were how many of them there?  10, 12?  Why didn't he put the knife down and lie down?  I would have, wouldn't you?  Isn't that the natural reaction?  I don't know, again, I have never held a knife to a cop and told one I wanted to kill them, so I can't say what my head would be saying. 

What my natural reaction is not to make a kid with a knife a martyr because he died yielding a knife at the cops.  I do not think it's right he died.  I do not think bringing a gun to a knife fight is fair but I do know this wasn't an "angel" kid or a kid in his right mind.  He was yelling he was going to kill people.  What I also know is this was, (horrible word to use), overkill.  That cop should have been trained enough to use a single shot to take that kid down enough to stop him from coming at them or the taser but not 9 shots and a taser.  Is this particular cop blind?  Are we hiring the blind as policemen for equalities sake now? 

This whole situation is horrific and it will be investigated and that cop will likely lose his job.  We all know this wasn't right.  But neither was this kid.  Don't forget that.  This kid didn't die because he was unjustly shot for no reason, he was yielding a weapon and threatening people.  He was yielding the knife and exposing himself to a streetcar full of people and he simply would not stop.  He would not put the knife down and simply lie down.  The cops said it over and over, there was 10 of them there, why didn't he just lie down?  So why don't we see what happens.  Let's protest when we see what the cop faces in the way of discipline, why are we protesting now?  Are we protesting the cops in general? 

I mourn for this kids family I do.  But if I hear angel one more time I might scream.  And if I hear society blame every policeman on the planet I might scream.  And if one more person mentions this knife yielding threatening the cops kids name next to Trayvon Martins name one more time I might.....well you get the gist of this.

Every single day my best friend in the world puts on her police uniform, drives her young kids to school and then goes to work.  Where I would bet my life, she's had knives pulled on her.  I've seen the bruises she's brought home from an assault.  She does it because she has always wanted to be a cop.  Her Dad was one and she thinks it's the most amazing job in the world.  She thought it a revered career choice in fact.  Until she became one.  Then she had to work the G20.  Suddenly the city was turning on her.  I remember her telling me how that felt.  How the media coverage seemed to be labelling her.  She was in the back lines, she was doing her job.  She was watching police cars being lit on fire.  Or how about hearing that a crazy person just ran your friend over with a garbage truck, because he was simply high and crazy.  All of this is taken home to her kids and all she thinks about are her kids.  Her motto, "I just need to do my job well for my city AND get home to my kids".  That's what she thinks of Toronto as, "her city" and she wants to keep it safe.  Would she have shot a kid 9 times and tasered him, I doubt it, can't say for sure.

What I can say is that you are no better than George Zimmerman if you label all cops bad because of one's actions. 

RIP Sammy - I wish you had made better decisions that day and I hope when all is said and done, investigations are completed fair and justly, thus preventing this from ever happening again.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Does this make me look fat?

Whether you’re a Royal Family watcher/stalker/obsessor or not, obviously they are news.  When Diana married Charles, we watched.  When they had babies, we watched.  When they got divorced, “oh my” (*clutches pearls* as a friend says), we watched.  And when she died, we cried alongside her family.  We cried watching those young boys follow the funeral procession and we loved the Queen for doing what was right and breaking tradition, giving Diana a funeral worthy a Royal.  Okay so maybe you didn’t watch directly, but if you had the TV on any channel other than 666 Huntley Street (saw what I did there, clever huh?), you saw something related to the Royals. 

And now, still in my day, I get to see it all again.  The beautiful Catherine marry her Prince William.  It’s the stuff fairy tales are made of.  You and I both know that we dream at night about being a Princess, every girl does.  Now only it’s really happening.  Not reality happening.  We aren’t talking the Kardashian’s here, we are talking REAL ROYALTY.  I loved the wedding, I am not even remotely ashamed to say I watched every second of it.  And I have followed them ever since too so suck it.  I can be a bad ass and still love me some fairy tales.

The “Royal Couple” seem so happy and down to earth.  Happy to have each other.  Down to earth enough to realize what’s expected of them (silly fascinators, they really are ridiculous) and what they want to do (topless sunbathing…holla’).   To me, perfection.  I don’t need to dream about being a princess, I am lucky.  I have a man that would treat me like a princess if I asked.  I don’t ask.  Unless you are going to dress up every day I don’t think it is right to ask to be treated like someone who should! Haha

When the Royal Couple got married, people criticized.  They talked about “her boring dress” in comparison to her sisters.  They spoke of a long drawn out ceremony.  Too much pomp and circumstance over substance.  What I saw, was a beautiful girl marrying her prince in front of millions.  A girl so confident she wore a traditional gown and saw fit to allow her gorgeous sister to shine.  How generous of spirit she is as you know most brides think in their heads “who’s gonna look better than me?”  I saw two kids honoring hundreds of years of tradition in their ceremony versus a ceremony they would have chosen otherwise.  Why is everyone in such a hurry?  Slow the fuck down people, you are missing what’s right in front of you, it’s called LIFE.  Pomp and circumstance, that’s the kids fault is it?  Only those fascinators which are required tradition and what the Queen likely ordered is what that wedding contained.   Otherwise the next day you saw a girl wearing an outfit she had worn before greeting “her public” again uncomfortably but with enough grace to say “I get this is my life”.

I love that this girl wear’s an appropriate dress to every event and outing she goes to.  To be casual in public she wears appropriate shoes and button downs.  Almost always heels and nylons.  And she recycles.  People have said she shouldn’t, she should in the public eye, not re-wear a dress.  Then others say she shouldn’t buy a new dress for an event when the economy is at it is.  I love that she changes up a belt and shoes and wears a dress twice, it screams, “I mean you no harm, I am human”. 

Then the trip to Canada.  Where we asked them to participate in any number of Canada traditions, silly as they might be.  It’s what’s expected, tradition, tradition, tradition and they did it all with class.  The paddling competition, so great.  The tiny touching signs of their love for each other.  *sigh* so lovely.  A slipped in kiss, smile, hand hold here and there.

 Along with the rest of the world we wondered if she, we’re homies you know, was okay.  She lost a bit of weight and on an already thin athletic frame we were concerned.  Was the stress of the public too much?  We were putting too much pressure on a young girl?  We all remembered finding out Diana fought bulimia throughout her marriage due to the public probing eye.  She was thinner than Diana.  Oh no.  I had a feeling of concern, as I always do when someone could be hurting, it’s what I do.  But I realize now people were being critical.  It seems it’s all we want to do, find fault.  Perhaps if we find fault in someone else’s appearance maybe then, we will feel good about ourselves?  But why?  Why are we putting pressure on young women?  So dangerous a road that is.  It leads to more and more eating disorders, more depression, and more unhappiness.  Concern is one thing, being critical is another and it’s a fine line. 

Then our girl, I am sharing her now, got pregnant.  We listened and watched her being in hospital due to excessive morning sickness.  We listened as two radio hosts played a prank on the hospital and a young nurse having fallen for it took her own life.  We seemed to have learned nothing.  Nothing at all from that.  We pointed the blame on the radio hosts.  They got fired and punished.  I don’t remember anyone saying how much pressure that nurse must have been under looking after royalty and we had no idea how much what occurred affected the Princess herself.  Imagine being in the hospital so sick you worry about your child and you hear one of your nurses, someone who took care of you, took her own life for falling for a prank in direct relation to you?  Yep, I am sure that helped the pregnancy along.  That stress free environment I am sure the Princess needed.  Why again I ask?  Why is this okay today?

We all watched her fashion choices during pregnancy and all of us wondered how her bump was so small.  She didn’t pop until the final hours really.   Unlike so many other famous pregnant women, this thin athletic frame barely showed her bump.  So we questioned it, we dissected it.   We didn’t seem to criticize her clothing, we were too busy doing that to other famous people.  She got lucky there.  Even those famous women felt relieved of pressure due to the Princess’s pregnancy.  You know it’s bad when you feel relieved because someone else is pregnant.  And that’s us, we all watch.  We all comment.  We are critical.  Why?

And here’s Johnnnnnny!!!  Sorry, I mean George.  George George George of the jungle, friend to you and me… Okay little off track.  She had a baby boy.  Again, perfection.  A boy heir for the throne.  A girl would have been nice too but we all know, having a boy first is the way to go with the Royal’s with tradition.  Even though the Queen changed the rules to account for a girl, we know her Royal Hiny wanted a boy. 

There she was, 24 hours after the birth coming out of the hospital looking movie star princess worthy in makeup and hair, pretty little blue dress to match her hubby’s blue shirt, and heels.  The heels being on her not him.  That would be something to criticize wouldn’t it?  “The prince wore heels as he….”  Never mind.  This is what happens when you read something written by someone with bi polar disorder.  Sorry, what was I talking about?  Right right, the princess.  The girl was wearing freakin’ heels as she presented herself and her new baby (“HER BABY”) to the world.  We get that the baby is hers right?  King or not some day, it’s HER BABY.  She passed her son to her husband and ascended the steps.  Likely doing that because she was unsteady on her feet.  Remember not even 24 hours before she was pushing 8 pounds some odd ounces out of her whoo haaaw.  She looked perfection.

And there they went, up to the crowd to say a few words and show the world their baby.  THEIR BABY, their brand new baby.  And god bless them, just like a normal family William drove them home to the palace with the babe all tucked into his car seat, momma seated right beside him.  Of course normal people don’t drive home to a palace but you know what I mean.  It was Perfection.  Like every other father, he drove home his wife and baby.  *sniff*

So how is it, after talking about this wonderful love story, movie worthy shit that I find myself wanting to kick half the world in their tacos and the other half in their junk?  Because according to my hubby who watches CNBC and CNN all day long as he works, the media is going ape shit over the Princess's “baby belly”.  Apparently "fat" has been tossed around.  I am losing my shit!!!!!  The girl left the hospital only 24 hours after giving birth and was done head to toe.  Most women leave in a wheel chair, hair piled atop their head, makeup having been sweated down their faces, and track suits some of which you are sure you can see spots off burp ups already on, boob juice, and maybe even after birth.  That’s how a normal woman looks and rightly so.  She just pushed a human being out of her vagina!!!!!!!!!!!  If it was a man, he’d come out on a stretcher with the wife carrying the child.  So what the hell is wrong with people today that they can actually comment on her after belly?   ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  You same people likely watch Honey Boo Boo for entertainment.  That child’s belly is bigger than that of the women who just passed a child.  Do you think because the baby is out the belly just snaps back into place like a fucking elastic???  It doesn’t work that way.    Why do you think that runway models hide for at least a month before being seen in public?  It is to allow the bump to settle back down.  THERE WAS A CHILD GROWING IN THERE.  You realize that right?  It’s where they grow.  And better yet, you know where they come out right?  Might be a tad sore after?

Why are we judging her versus congratulating her?  She was out of there so fast I am surprised that belly wasn't the fucking after birth.  Let alone the fact there isn’t a woman on the planet that would have worn a dress and heels.  Had she worn the standard tights and flowy top hiding it all we would have criticized her casual appearance.  Anyone saying she's fat has; a) never had a kid or been around someone who has or, b) is a stupid man.  She looked perfect, just perfect with her teeny tiny after birth belly she will have for maybe a week. I mean she is a fantasy princess after all, it will disappear in time.  But guaranteed we needed evidence of the birth or else the stupid human race would have said “is it even hers, was the pregnancy real”, was it BeyoncĂ©?  Of course it was and to say anything else is ridiculous.  Should the princess stay in full time hiding so we don’t put her through this or should we keep it up so we get to talk of her struggle with bulimia one day just like William’s Mother.  A woman who had bulimia largely due to the pressures of being under the public microscope. 

Don’t get me wrong.  I get that being Royal, having a palace, and potentially being married to the King one day has its perks.  There’s almost always a downside to fame.  But by being in the eye shouldn’t give us free reign to be critical when criticism is completely unnecessary.   Why as a human race are we at such a place that we judge others for their appearance so heavily.  Let’s use Justin Bieber as an example here.  He is very famous.  He gets followed everywhere so we know what he’s up too and when he does truly stupid shit, we get to call it stupid shit.  But we don’t often pick on his appearance.  We don’t call him fat or thin, just brain dead or not brain dead.  Douchey or not douchey.   So why do we look at a woman, who’s just given birth, and question her being fat?  or her outfit choice could have been better to hide that fat???  We hurt young girls every time we publicly discuss the weight of another woman.  We make them look in the mirror and question their beauty.  New Mom’s are gonna triple guess their “go home” outfits, “don’t want to show that belly that’s left” look what CNN said!!!!  We need to stop doing this to women.  We are critical enough, each and every day, on ourselves. 

Princess Catherine is perfect.  There I said it.  Now it’s your turn, go tell someone you think might need it that they are perfect too.   Or better still, look in the mirror and say it to yourself.  Not out loud though, talking to yourself like that can get a doctor called.  Trust me on that one.  Of course I was arguing with myself about how fat I actually was.
Jesus that's one big belly. ($@#$%^&*(

Friday, July 19, 2013

Men are from Mars and….well that’s it.

I was talking to a girlfriend who told me a story about her flirting with a guy, a new guy, a younger guy and she was embarrassed. She’d been rejected and was worried about seeing him again. Being that I know everything, I asked for the story. They text all the time she told me. She had asked him if he was free and he responded no. She had hoped to watch a hockey game with him then “tuck him into bed”. Hint hint hint. And he simply responded that he wasn’t free and doubt they’d watch much of the game. To her, she’d been rejected. And she was “fine” with it. Just embarrassed to see him because of the rejection. To say I looked flummoxed is an understatement.

My first question to her was, “you do realize men are stupid right?” She responded positively that indeed she knew this, it was not a revelation to her. That was good, half my work was already done. I don’t mean men in general are stupid. I mean when they aren’t thinking about tits and ass, they’re smart. When they aren’t worried about the size of their junk in comparison to another, they’re smart. When they aren’t going through the midlife crisis, buying convertibles, earrings and a date for the convertible, they’re smart. When they aren’t lighting shit on fire, smart. In short, they are not always stupid. Every once in a while one of them compliments their woman at the right time, without any sexual ideation whatsoever….okay I can’t lie like that, not that boldly. But once in a blue moon a guy does something out of the blue without any ulterior motives…..damn it, again, can’t finish. They do something nice without ever having misbehaved prior to….okay this is ridiculous. 

What I am trying to say is that they are not always stupid. There are times, I know it. My husband will build something or fix something and all I can think of is “that’s what he’s for, I knew I needed him”. I jest of course, someone has to open the jars around here, them lids be tight.

She was aware, they aren’t always bright. I then followed with, “so you know unless you actually say the words, I want to have sex with you tonight” they will have no idea what you mean, what you want, or how to act. She started to laugh but I could tell she wasn’t “there” yet. She still believed him not interested. 

This is the conversation that followed.

Nicolle: You flirted back and forth and tossed a bone his way with a flirty little cute, “tuck you in” comment.

Her: Yes.

Nicolle: And you expected him to get that meant you want to have sex, no strings attached, you just “want some”.

Her: Well yes.

Nicolle: After making flirtatious comments for months with no follow through, you expect him to get this one particular time you wanted sex?

Her: Uhhhmmm yes?

Nicolle: Why?

Her: You don’t think he got that with my saying “tuck you in”?

Nicolle: Oh I am sure he got that it meant taking him to bed.

Her: Then I was indeed rejected.

Nicolle: No. You assume you have been.

Her: But….

Nicolle: Well, did you say, “would you like to have sex tonight?”

Her: No but….

Nicolle: Did you say, “I want, in fact I need, sex tonight. I would like it to be with you if you are available tonight. No strings attached, I don’t want a relationship”. Did you say that?

Her: I hinted.

Nicolle: You could hint with Louisville Slugger but until you spell it out with your big girl ABCs to the man, you will get rejected, by misunderstanding. Not on purpose, not with intent, but by misunderstanding you will have to assume rejection.

Her: But….

Nicolle: No buts, none whatsoever. Unless you tell a man exactly what you want and how you want it, you are gonna be rejected. You will have no choice but to deem yourself rejected because you didn’t give him enough information, you didn’t lay it out per say, right under his nose. Please remember the old movie Coyote Ugly because it’s perfection, “every man has a two year old right in their Dockers” *motion to the general penis region*, “and you look like a kindergarten teacher”. In other words they think all the time with their two year old wee brain. Not their big brain, the one on their shoulders but the little one in their pants. So good luck with your “hints”. You’re gonna be dried up and dusty by the time you get laid by this guy.

Her: I am scared to ask him, I am nervous.

Nicolle: Right now you believe he understood you and rejected you right? 
Her: Well yes. 
Nicolle: You’ve been rejected already, what have you got to lose now? You already got told no in your mind. Unless you say the words, asking him the direct question, you will never know. Last time I checked, unless he is gay, a man is not going to say no to sex with an older, very attractive woman saying she wanted sex with no strings. I am pretty confident you are going to be okay. So long as you say it like you are talking to a two year old, like he’s dumbest two year old alive. Spell it out. Guys have scared nerves too sometimes so remember you are an older woman and sexual as hell and he’s sitting on the other end of that text saying to himself “what the fuck did that mean, did she mean what I think she meant, what do I say….oh the game is on, let’s order some za….what the hell was I thinking about a minute ago? Oh well it will come back to me”. That is a man’s mind.

If you were to walk into the room as you husband put the hockey game on TV, lifted the lid to a hot fresh pizza and you dropped your clothes on the floor, this would be the best example of someone’s head exploding. There would be a massive wiring shortage in his brain. He would be thinking, “life doesn’t get better than this, a game, pizza….WHAT THE FUCK? This means sex, there’s no question, sex right now, right now? The game, the pizza……? And then you’d have sex. No way in hell a man’s saying no, you’ve made yourself clear, you will win. But are you starting to understand their wiring at all?

I had a girlfriend who used to ask my incessantly, all the fucking time, what do you think he meant by that? “NOTHING” I wanted to scream. “NOTHING”. He meant nothing by it, or he would have said it damn it. What do you think this meant? “NOOOOOTHING”. There is no secret meaning. If there was there’d be no jokes about “do I look fat in these jeans?” We don’t ask that question because if we do they are gonna answer, and they’re gonna answer with the truth. We, women, actually had to teach them to stop telling the truth. Make something up when you answer THAT question. But only that question. Well no, come to think of it, lie when it comes to this and this, the truth with that and that. Meanwhile the guy is sitting there thinking, I just want to watch the game, “wanna order pizza?” Unless you are standing there naked, that’s about all you’re getting’.  

We created this monster! I need all women to acknowledge this. We wanted them to be honest. Then we wanted particular questions answered dishonestly. It’s no wonder they fuck it up all the time. What men need is a book, a complete set of rules, book. “Here’s when it’s appropriate to lie”. “Here’s when it’s not”. “Here’s when to say I love you”. “Here’s when not to”. Oh yeah, that’s right fellas, it’s not always appropriate to say those words. You can’t in the middle of a fight throw those words out all willy nilly to try and stop the fight. We know what you are doing there, you don’t really mean it. Now you have placed in our head a distrust over the use of the most important of words. Come on now fellas, that’s not right. All that being said, if you come home and we have made a nice dinner for you, it might be appropriate to say it then. Of course if a woman is PMS’ing she may think that you only love her when she’s acting like Mrs. Cleaver, that’s insulting, we are independent strong women here. I think the point is simple, we are different, we will never truly understand the other because we cannot get inside each other’s heads. 

I am married so I we have been practising learning about each other, it's a practice because no one has perfected it yet, and likely never will.  Keep on practising, someone's bound to perfect it at some point. My husband has made an art of understanding the, “I can’t win can I?” question. He doesn’t even wait for the answer to that question anymore, he knows he can’t, he just needs to say it. I think asking gives him a wee manhood boost. He watches us women interact, he listens to us talking to each other about boyfriends and he regularly makes comments like “holy shit guys would never ever do that”. Like “guys would never say I love you to another guy unless they are a gay couple speaking to each other, we don’t do that, why do you do that, I don’t get that?” Or, “okay she’s been an ass to you for years and you are curled up crying talking to all your friends about it, wouldn’t it be easier to just say “fuck it” and move on?”. Well yes shit head, it would be, but we are not made of testosterone and pizza. We are hormonal nutcases. Each and every one of us. And yes, that means it is normal for us to cry when you ask what’s for dinner and we don’t know why we are crying either. If we could explain it, it wouldn’t likely happen now would it? Would you want to cry for absolutely no reason? Us neither. It’s not like we don’t know we are nuts, you don’t need to tell us….if you want to live.

The best thing a man can do for himself, if he wants constant, steady sexual relations with a girlfriend or wife is to learn to say “yes dear” without any visible sarcasm. Saying those words with eye rolling, baaaad call dude, bad call. Practise it in the mirror. This is how to end a fight, be wrong, even if you are right. Do you really care about being right or do you care about a quiet night at home, watching the game over a pizza followed by sexual relations? I mean it doesn’t get much better than that. All you need to do is say “yes dear” when your wife walks in the room in tears with a dish towel saying through sobs, “if you loved me you would have folded this properly after using it”. And to that you answer “yes dear, if I loved you properly I’d have folded the dish towel that I don’t even notice or know when I am actually using it, or really even what it’s for, but yes dear, you are right”.   I highly suggest skipping that middle part unless you are ten years married like me and mine and I find it funny when he says that shit, most of the time.  It's his crap shoot.  So you've said "yes dear" to the wrinkled towel, your wife stops crying, wiping tears from her eyes she will tilt her head much like a dog does wondering what the hell is happening, “he gets this now? After all these years, he really gets this, he gets me?” Insert sexual relations here.

I am aware there is no method or madness to the things we cry about. I’ve softened up a lot in the last 5 years. Before that, unless I watched the lion rescuer reunite with the lion after 10 years video, no crying. Now that I am married and peri menopausal, I cry if the postal lady doesn’t give me a proper hello and I don’t even like people. If there’s a commercial on TV about someone loving someone else, tears. Even I touch my face sometimes and think “hmmmm it’s wet, wonder what happened, salty, odd”. So I can only imagine how my husband feels walking into the bedroom and I am curled up in the fetal position snot pouring out my nose and I say something like, “the toilet seat was up, you’ve never left it up before. You have stopped loving me”. Even as the words come out through the snot I wonder to myself, “who the fuck just said that? And why does the dog look all concerned?”

Now don’t get all up in arms ladies, I get that they actually MAKE us cry sometimes. I get there are complete asshats out there and most of the time we are attracted to them. I mean the less they love us the more we want them right? Talk about boosting one’s self esteem, get a guy who doesn’t love anyone to love us. That will do it right? If nothing else, if it doesn’t work we might learn we deserve better right? Okay after 12 more of these guys we will now know what we deserve right? And then you find the one. He is handsome, and caring, says “yes dear” all the time….he gets you. 

Then it happens. 

He relaxes because you are actually acting normal, not like the usual girls he’s met before you.  You are almost human. You’ve both relaxed. 

Here it comes. 

You are living together now, farts have occurred in each other’s presence, with apologies of course. You have made it. This might be “the one”.

He calls from the office. 

“Going out with the guys for a few drinks, won’t be late”. It’s 5pm.

You: Okay, great, have fun.

You: Via Text, “having fun?” its 8pm.

Him: Via Text, “yep” …an hour later, 9pm.

You: Via Text, minutes later, “when do you think you’ll be home? Should I wait up?”

Him: Via Text, another hour later, 10pm, “nah”.

You: YOUR HEAD EXPLODES. Making texting difficult. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be late? What’s going on? Why are you being so short with me? Are we okay? I am worried.”

Him: He’s calling you now because he has NO idea what’s happened. “Babe, everything’s fine, I am on my way home”.

You: Now you feel bad, he sounds normal, why are you giving him a hard time you ask yourself? “Honey, I am sorry, you just said you weren’t gonna be late and I didn’t know if I should wait up to see you or not, I will go to bed, take your time, have fun”.

Him: “Are you sure?” He sounds very doubtful of your change of heart, and a little annoyed.

You: Being sure he is annoyed with you now, you say “please go have fun with the guys, and sorry must be PMS”.

Him: “Okay babe”.

You: “Night”. 

And just as he hangs up the phone you hear it, a girls laugh, and its close, close to your man. This explains everything!!!!

You spend the rest of the night getting angrier and angrier, more and more sad. It’s over and you know it. You are now eating a bag of double stuff Oreo’s. No sense keeping your figure when he’s got another girlfriend, she’s probably never had an Oreo before. You start second guessing yourself. He’s doing nothing wrong. She could have just been walking past him at the time. It’s now 1am, “WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?” He’s with HER! Damn him. When he comes home at 130am you pretend you’re asleep, fast asleep. He stumbles into bed. There’s movement, he is NOT. Yep, he’s sidling up to spoon you because that’s right, he’s ready! Can you fucking believe this? After all he’s done to you tonight. You fake groan in your sleep flipping into a position that sends a clear message of “I don’t think so”. He’s a little drunk, he tries again, you fake sleep through it. Before you know it the drunk snore begins. You’ve heard it before, just most of those times, in fact ALL of those times you were out together. You were both drunk so you had great drunken sex and passed out together. Now you are lying miles apart, you’re bloated from the Oreo’s and your best relationship to date is almost over, I mean he is cheating after all! 

The next morning you choose to go to the gym and get ready there for work because you can’t face him. You know you are acting crazy but part of you believes it’s over. After work you make plans with a girlfriend and ensure you are out long enough that hangover boy’s sound asleep when you get home at 9pm, which is “early” like he said he would be the night before. You still can’t sleep. I mean you are trying to figure out where you are going to live. You love this apartment but can’t afford it on your own. 

You are now starting to see things about this love of your life you never noticed before. He leaves the toothpaste all squished out and gross. He’s never replaced the toilet tissue, never. You are not sure he knows where to buy new stuff let alone how to put a new roll on. You know for sure he doesn’t know where you keep them in the apartment. And the snoring, when did this start? Fucking earth shattering rhino sounds. How did you ever sleep? Asshole, you hate him. Good, this will be easy to end it you convince yourself.

See how this happens? See what you’ve done there? See what he’s done there (*ahem*, NOTHING)? 

How about this? Just try this. You’ve got nothing to lose right? You are going to be living alone in a few hours. Just try this. Get up, make coffee for you both and sit waiting for him to get up. When he comes into the kitchen, don’t throw death stares at him. He’s oblivious the poor soul. He has no idea that you are mad. He has no idea you are about to end your relationship. Shit, he doesn’t even know he is cheating. He was unaware that a woman walking past him is the equivalent to sleeping with her. NO idea. He had no idea then, and he still has none. When he sits down say this, “Thursday, you said to me, you wouldn’t be late”. He will look at you bewildered. Say, “please don’t tell me you won’t be late and then be late, like really late, okay? I worry, I want you to enjoy yourself but I don’t want to be up worrying, is that okay? It’s not too much to ask I hope. Just be honest, if you think you are gonna tie one on, tell me as much and I will go to bed wearing granny pajamas so you don’t hump my leg”. Right in this moment you will truly know if you have “the one”. The “NOT one” will say something like “why you all up in ma’ business bitch”. Finish packing, you are right, it’s over. 

But if he says “I am sorry about that, didn’t mean for you to worry. And yes dear, I can be a little more realistic about it, whether I will be late or not”. Now reward him, this is amazing progress for a guy who is completely unsure he actually did anything wrong.  That said you were so nice and you looked upset, he wants to make you happy. That’s a good man.

Now to broach the subject of the girl walking past him, you need to step back a bit on that one. I mean you are being ridiculous. It’s not like the girl whispered into the phone, “I am gonna ride your man home”. She laughed and you know very well it was in the distance but you were already there, breaking up with him when you heard it. A wee distorted was the mind at the time. So as you sit in his lap and kiss him, well. Kiss him well. Let him know the kiss may lead to something. Kiss him like a Soap Star. All open mouthed “leading somewhere” kiss. Look him straight in the eye and say, completely honestly and open, “I got so worked up about you staying out late that I basically had you leaving me for another woman, how crazy is that?”. He shouldn’t blink. He should look you in the eye and say something stupidly corny like, “you’re the only woman for me”. To which you can now say, “I heard this chick walk past you and convinced myself she was whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Girls are so stupid, besides I would have to kill her”. Now you have gotten all you need off your chest. He’s reassured you how he feels about you. He’s told you he agrees with your need for clarity in regards to his eta, even though he doesn’t understand your need whatsoever, he did that for you. All is good in the world.

I have learned all this, all of it, in the last 10 years or so, entirely at the expense of my husband’s sanity. I may have been the girl in the “won’t be late” story. I might have made him sleep on the couch in the cold basement and when he gave me lip, MAYBE I packed a suitcase for him and called him a cab until it got so far away from him he yelled “what the fuck is happening?” At that moment I realized everything that happened, every second of it, happened entirely in my head. Once you realize how much shit you create in your head versus how much is real, you are gonna have one happy husband. That and putting out more regularly than you think you should will equal a relatively peaceful home life.

Unless he fucks with that dish towel. Then it’s over.

Friday, July 12, 2013

Yup, she's prettier, that's exactly what it is.

When I got together with my husband he was in the push me pull me of separating from his wife.  Every time he went back to her, I was abandoned and worthless  Every time he came back, I was worthy and amazing.  Amazing in the sack, in my clothes, out in bars, in my job.  I rocked.  Oh shit, he's gone again to figure all this out?  Insert fetal position here and a half empty 1 pound bag of chocolate almonds alongside a box of Kleenex and my little black book of guys to call to use me through the hell of being abandoned again.  It really helps to have a booty call when you are in the throws of despair over being unworthy, helps every time.  Insert another fetal position here and perhaps 3 empty bottles of wine.  And all the while this went on, I contacted most of my girlfriends with, "things are great", then "oh shit I am two steps away from the balcony here, the only thing in my way is a large pizza".  I hated hearing myself talk or think, let alone share.  I still do when I get obsessive about something.  I cannot let it go, "why, why, oh whyyyyyyy?".  There's a song with that in it, I fucking love that line.

It's that little lead in that reminds me of a dear dear friend that I love.  I haven't seen her since she dropped the extra 75 pounds (I am guessing here) that she lost and somehow managed to mail right into my ass.  There she was, heavy  and going out with my then skinny ass, watching me get hit on, feeling uncomfortable in her own skin.  I loved her and used to think to myself, "man if she'd lose some weight the guys would be all over her".  I won't deny it, it's what I thought, it's the truth about what I thought.  Keep in mind as I said that I remembered being that size, having been there before, and hated myself for it.  So I knew she hated herself for it too, I was her for fucks sakes.  Today I am kind of her still, so I was always as supportive as I could be.   I listened and encouraged as much as I could.  See, I knew I had an eating disorder so I felt if I shared, maybe someone else could see their way through it. 

Here she and I are, years later.  She's done the diet and exercise and dropped to a place I personally think may be a little too thin.  Even as I say that I detest myself because am I saying that out of jealousy or actual concern because I have been too thin before.  Not sure.  Not willing to take the high ground there just yet.  In all likelihood if she were me, I would tell anyone who said that to me that "I was healthy and happy and all good".  Actually I did just that.  Years ago I had surgery to have my appendix removed and they found the strep A virus in my stomach lining and I dropped to a size 5.  Average for me is a 12-14.  And I couldn't have been happier.  Spending thousands on clothes in that size 5 I stayed in for only one summer.  Gotta a lot of action that summer, the boys were all over my skinny ass.  Wow, I remember one actually saying to me on email as I walked past his desk on day, "whoa, loving this new skinny ass".  So my actually uttering the words "too thin" is about as hypocritical as one can be.  I would give my right arm right now to be her size today.  But that comes with an IF now.  "Only IF I knew that would solve all my problems and that of the worlds (that part is bullshit, I care only about my problems really...as if hungry people have problems, look at them, all lean and shit)".  I know that sounds horrid to say but it's the fucking truth, when it comes to being thin and feeling good, they are not interconnected, they aren't.  I was thin, I have been too thin, thin and just right and the mirror never sent me personally written love messages.  It never held a boom box over its head and serenaded me.  Boys never attested their undying love for me.  See above, they loved "my new skinny ass".  My parents didn't love me more or less.  Actually that's not true, they both like food and have issues so I think in their own way they were jealous of the thin me, happy I appeared happy and thought the worlds problems also ended with the size of my ass. 

So back to my friend.  Care to guess the last time I saw her?  I left work in 2008 I think it was, I was still only about 20 pounds over weight and carried myself around like a hooker on shore leave.  It was then, when she just began to diet that I last saw her.  Do you think I want to see her skinny ass today?  Hells to the no!  I weigh at least 75 pounds over my usual now, not just 20 that I could ab suck into the abyss. Add in alcohol and a good pair of expensive shoes, 20 pounds had NOTHING on me.  Oh how I wish it was only 20 pounds today.  

But here I am today talking to her about the fact she still looks in the mirror and says "not good enough".  She is comparing herself to everyone around her.  She is looking at pictures of her ex and his new thin fit girlfriend online (thanks Facebook for that, in the past we just had to hope not to see them, not be able to online stalk them to our own demise).  She is sitting looking at his happy face with "her" and thinking "what the fuck is wrong with me?".  "Why am I not good enough?"  Must be all the diet weight loss skin issues right, guess there's extra when you do it way too fast for your body to work with it.  That's got to be it.  Or the clothes I wear.  That's it, too conservative.  He wanted whore in see through lulu lemons.  Maybe it was the fact that I was a sexual deviant cause I figured that's what the guys really want right?  If I keep 'em happy in the sac, then that will keep them.  In fact they love that shit but somehow their wiring gets all fucked up when they think of doing "that" stuff to the mother of their children so be prepared, at some point they must fight the, "I love my wife but want a hooker" feelings.  Lord knows you are gonna make that about you not being good enough, pretty enough, sexual enough.

Here's what it is girl (girl being me because I am this friend and she is ME).  At least this is what I think it is.  It's the fact you don't love yourself.  There is a confident girl on the outside of you but once he's in your bed, and in your head, the true you comes out.  The girl who doesn't particularly like herself, who doesn't think "these jeans look good", who won't eat a decent meal in his presence, who won't see him on days where you've caved and over ate.  These are all actually YOUR issues not his.  It has nothing to do with her being better, or him wanting her, it's you.  It's me. 

I have a good marriage.  I won't deny that.  But I have a man that loves me to death and I "hope" that's true.  I don't believe it.  But I don't say that every day.  That's not his burden to bear.  I am determined to point out good looking girls in short shorts to him and while jealousy and envy rages through my blood enough to make me want to cut someone, I say, "hey honey check that ass out" knowing he appreciates that I don't make it his burden that I AM jealous.  And I know he's gonna likely get horny but he seems to keep bringing it home.  Yay me.  Maybe there's something to this love shit.  Remember in the beginning when it was "yes I am leaving, no I am not" and that was all about me, and how worthy I was.  No it wasn't. 

I am 100% sure on the other end his soon to be ex was feeling the same way and I regret that.  I regret he left, moved out, got his own place, but wasn't still sure what he wanted, needed, could handle, and she got pulled in different directions too.  That her ego and pride was being playing with.  See how I made that about her ego and pride being played with? Really was he?  Was it a game?  I don't think so.  Again, that's not his fault, he was trying to figure out his own life.  Unhappy marriage, but kids he loved to the ends of the earth.  Happy out of marriage, hurting kids.  What to do, what to do?  What the fuck has that got to do with me and how I look in the mirror?  Abso-fucking-lutely nothing!  And I see that now, I see that today and I openly talk to him about this.  I say to him all the time, "you are not the solution to my happiness but I sure do love you a lot and wouldn't be happy if you left.  I am happier with you beside me, that I know, because I like having you around.  You're like a best girlfriend with stuff I am attracted too".   I put as much of my shit at the door as I can because it's not his to bear.  And I expect the same from him.  "Do not bring that stress on your face and body into this house, it's not my problem". 

Now this sounds all very Law of Attraction selfish bullshit I hate so much it makes me want to spit on a puppy.  What this is not, is me saying you don't define my happiness or unhappiness.  It is, I am gonna be happy or unhappy with myself one way or another but I sure do love having you beside me.  I will not put all my shit on your lap to bear, please do not do that to me.  And I love you, and having you beside me makes me happier even on an unhappy day.  When I am unhappy and I rip him apart, I am now the first later to say, "holy shit I am sorry, that all had nothing to do with you, thank you for still being here".  You can't not reflect things onto your partner, your issues, but you need to be self aware enough to say, "eeek not your problem, my bad".

So girlfriend out there, 1) I am sorry that I am still wrapped up enough in my appearance I haven't seen you.  Trust me, you are 1 in about 50 I refuse to see out of sheer embarrassment but I am working on it.  The other day, I looked fab, should have ran over to you but I could have seen an ex.  (see where that went again?).  2) You, my friend, are perfect as you are today or as you will be tomorrow.  It's only when you know that.  Know that all the imperfections you see is no one's problem but your own, can you move forward.  I got so lucky, my man saw past it and in doing so helped me reign it in from being his problem.  3) I love that you want to talk to me about this shit because you know it means; a) I love you to death, b) you love me to death, and c) I must be doing something right as Miss Perfect pants is looking to me to help her with her head.  Somewhere along the line I started to "get it" and that's fantastic.  Trust me, it's not always so.  We all have our bad days where we can't stop ourselves but today I get to feel like fat girl on the couch has her shit together.  Thank you.  I appreciate that.  Now I will go look in the mirror and applaud myself before I lose that feeling.

And you my dear, stop looking at those fucking pictures, it's apples to oranges.  You have no idea what she has or doesn't have in comparison to you.  And you will never find that answer.  Even asking them both, in a face to face sit down, no one is ever that honest.  YOU WILL NEVER KNOW.  Maybe there's things she can do that's different than you.  Like I said, "perhaps she's got a double jointed jaw and can suck a basketball through a garden hose".  Maybe just maybe, she's so confident he's chasing her a** all over the place and she, having some issues with love (Daddy issues we like to call them), is using him to make herself feel that love is possible.  All the while, she doesn't even really like him.  There he is, pathetically using your ideas and plans to try, just try to make her happy.  Chase chase chase.  Those boy mice love to chase.  The less you love them the more they think it's true love.  Maybe just maybe, he's just a tail chasing asshole. 

You will never know until you stop looking at them and instead look in the mirror and find one thing, just one, that you really really like about yourself and say it in your head. Don't say it out loud that's very "Stuart Smalley" and annoying as fuck.  Say it in your head and tomorrow, try another one.   You are well on your way.  I got lucky, mine helped me along this path,.  I never had to look and say this shit to myself, he did it for me.  Awwwww shit, fuck, I am nowhere near done, he can't do it for me.  I just fucking finished saying that above.  Thanks so much.  Off to look in the mirror.  "I love that beauty mark, that teeny tiny beauty mark above my eye, I love that muther".  For now, you my dear, are going this alone (but I am always here, happy to remind you, we are all fucked up).

Those fucking raisins!

This has got to be one of the funniest and truthful videos I have seen in a long time (see link below).  I am loving this new site UpWorthy.  They post all kinds of warm and fuzzy videos and considering I am about as warm and fuzzy as a porcupine, they are not hurting me at all.  I am not gonna lie, I am sick and tired of the news and even my obsession with Entertainment news.  All I ever read about, as that's mainly how this girl gets her news, online, is sad stories.  You know like the one where Swizzle Stick (Justin Biebers main homie) got arrested for a DUI.  Note: Spellcheck wanted me to change homie to hornier and that cracked me up.  Anyways, that DUI was shocking and saddening news.  I am not even sure he was of age when he drove that mirror Justin Bieber calls a car, drove past the cop, blinding him with the suns reflection.

Everything in the news today is harsh.  Calgary flooding, Toronto flooding, and the new movie, "Snakes on a Go Train".  I sure do hope that Samuel Jackson comes back to get "those mutha f*cking snakes off his train".  That's gold entertainment folks. Sorry back to the news.  It's all so sadly annoying.  I want to stop watching and reading, but then what would I have to get mad about.  And then this gem pops out of nowhere.  Apparently Facebook decided I needed UpWorthy because it magically appeared delicious right there, waiting for me to get all warm and fuzzy like I do when I drive in the city or eat an entire pie in the dark.

There is no truer post than this one about women.  Where upon a compliment we shoot it down and ourselves in the process.  It's almost what we've been trained to do because it triggers more compliments and perhaps, perhaps today I might go home, look in the mirror and believe what was said about me.  I might morph before my own eyes in the mirror and see my hair actually does look like Kate Hudson's.  Wouldn't that be a nice surprise. 

I had a friend once who upon compliment shoot down she replied simply, "I am not playing this game with you".  "What game", I said all up in arms, how dare she.  And she said simply, "the one where I try to convince you that you are indeed pretty".  Damn her and her secret Yoda mind reading skills.  I am sure it ended with me in the fetal position, it often does.  Why I am not sure because I am I don't remember the fetal position in the womb?  Do we just say that because we assume it was all cosy in there all protected like by our mommies?

I can get dressed and look in the mirror and think "not bad".  I can go out, walk past a window and think "not bad".  I can eat lunch, walk past the same window and think "you fucking fat troll".  That's because I am now looking at myself through the eyes of a girl with a full stomach.  Nothing has changed.  My belly hasn't even changed size.  On this day I ate a piece of lean turkey and a raisin for dessert and yet there I am judging myself like I binge ate the cookie aisle at my local grocers.  Which I don't recommend trying.  I know once you judge yourself with food in your belly you think, "well now I have gone and done it, might as well go full on gangbusters" but they frown at sampling all the cookies in the cookie aisle.  Who knew?

Once I have had that big lunch and I run into you watch out.  I am gonna talk about how bloated I feel, how stuffed I am (them raisins, do it every time), and hope that you will compliment me back into my original head space.  Don't worry it's not your job and it won't work anyways.  You are gonna say black, I will say "no white".  You will say black again, and I will defend my natural beauty and say white.  You will get zero satisfaction complimenting me.  Only I can look in a mirror and decide if I like myself, like what I see.  No amount of your compliments or raisins is going to change that fact.  I, women, need to start appreciating who they are, in, out, sideways, front and back. 

This video and these new Dove commercials are the best thing to happen to women since the Tampon ads, "that blue liquid, that's what its supposed to look like".  We need to stop judging ourselves so harshly.  Maybe we need to stop looking in mirrors, or better still, stop comparing ourselves to our younger selves, or other women.  I have to say, next to the 40 plus year old Jennifer Aniston, I don't feel all that pretty.  But I eat, a lot.  And I like it most of the time.  You know, when I am not being kicked out of a cookie aisle.  I work out when I can.  But it's not my job to look good like it is hers, it's her money maker.  But it is my job to love myself.

The best thing about this video is the ending where none of the girls can comprehend the gal taking the compliment.  That girl is so full of confidence the rest cannot stand to exist anymore, I mean how could they?  They just re-affirmed all the bad things they think about themselves and then saw a woman who liked herself.  How does that happen?  Who, what....I don't get it.

So watch the Dove commercials over and over.  Watch the video below over and over.  I hope something sticks.  I hope you can look in the mirror once a day and say at the very least, "not bad", it's a start anyways.  Whatever you do though, don't do it after raisins, they really do fuck with your head.


Thursday, July 11, 2013

Justin Bieber Piss Apology

The other day Justin Bieber, "the Biebs" (am I spelling that right? cause I could f*cking care less), well this punk assed kid decided it was appropriate when exiting a club through a restaurant's kitchen to whip out his tiny dick and piss in the mop and bucket of the restaurant instead of the bathroom.  You can hear him on a video going on about it being "how he rolls" as his entourage applauded his behaviour and his security looked on expressionless.  Bravo security cause there's no way in hell I could have remained expressionless.  There isn't enough valium or ativan on the planet to make me expressionless in that situation.  I have no idea how much these people get paid, this security type of person, but it must be loads to put up with that type of behaviour and not say a word, not a word!  Now that I think of it, it was a robot.  Has to be. 

The Biebs, finds himself today having to apologize for his actions, again, as usual.  I mean he did relieve himself in a bucket that someone somewhere at some point was going to have to empty and clean after this.  Imagine that's your job.  You work in a kitchen, perhaps you do the dishes and clean up after the kitchen staff and you have to watch this little shithead piss in a bucket you know you are going to have to clean.  How wonderful do you feel about yourself that this, this is your job.  This is how your day is going to end.  How good do you feel going home to your wife perhaps and answering the age old question of, "hi honey, how was your day?".

The Biebs finds himself having to apologize because someone in that situation decided to video tape him.  See this is what happens when you make millions and millions of dollars at the expense of the human race.  That human race pays for you to live, you realize that right?  The human race buys your concert tickets.  They buy your shirts, and stupid cologne, perfumes, key rings and other crap.  They buy your music.  Stupid boy band bullshit music that in 10 years will be made fun of no less than we do when speak of that ridiculous Doo Wop song those Hansen (Hanson?) kids sang and we couldn't get out of our heads.  "I will be your boyfriend" makes my ears bleed for the record and I am not even sure those are the actual words.  How is it a fucking surprise to this kid that someone was going to video tape this?  It could have been his own crew for god sakes.  It sounds like the lot of them, "Little Twist, Swizzle Stick", are genuinely good peeps, looking after his best interests and all.  I believe it's these same people that drive up and down residential streets with children playing at race speeds, smoking pot, yelling obscenities. 

I have decided my first post in my blog will be solving the problem that is, Justin Bieber.  One, someone in his life he loves needs to say the following; "you began this journey as an inspiration and you are well on your way to leaving it as a complete and utter disappointment to us all".  If that doesn't cut it, Two, someone in charge of his money needs to say "I am out".  Walk away from this little pissant and let him implode.  And Three, my personal favorite, everyone stop buying anything to do with him for a very large period of time, like a year, 365 days of Bieberless purchasing and see if that, making no money, wakes him up.  I tell you one thing, I am for number Three and so help me god, from yesterday until the day I die, there will never be a single piece of Justin Bieber merchandise in my home, ever.  I would slap the fan right out of my child if she was one.  Thankfully she is smarter than that and said long ago, "he's a bit of a punk, I don't like him".

Now listen, I don't want to shit all over this kid like he did the person responsible to clean up after him.  When this kid, see how now I am being all mommy like and trying to remember he's still young.  When this kid began in the business I thought, "wow, nice voice, can dance, seems to love his fans".  I was as much a fan as a Mom in her 40s with little to no patience for white kids wearing pants falling off their ass could be.  But at some point he's gone all Lindsay Lohan/Amanda Bynes.  He's lost the appreciation for his own god given gifts = any talent he has.  Perhaps his manager has taken on too many other clients, or his mother has left his side. I don't know what happened but he went from a cute kid with talent wearing stupid pants to an ungrateful punk.  Hey Usher, you out there?  Perhaps it's time for a lesson in humanity?  I don't know much about much but you seem to have your shit together Usher, never seen or heard this kind of crap from you.  Aren't you his mentor?  I bet Justin Timberlake's pretty happy he didn't "find" this kid now.  Notice how Ellen DeGeneres hasn't had him on her show as of late?  Pretty sure he doesn't meet her criteria anymore.  I could be wrong but I am pretty sure she wouldn't approve of all his ludicrous behaviour.

If you want me, as a human being, to "belieb" you are actually sorry you little shit, walk into that restaurant, and ask for the person responsible to clean up your urine last night.  Stand in front of that person, take their hand in yours, (please wash yours first, I hope they haven't), and thank them for cleaning up after your sorry ass.  While holding their hand in yours and with pleading eyes, you can then apologize to them for your behaviour.  And finally as a show of good faith ask them what they make in a year and cut them a cheque for that amount as a thank you for not punching you right in the face. 

That is how you can start to make me a belieber because all I can think of over and over is "you little shit, you puissant, little asshole, how dare you treat another human being that

Photo: Courtesy of TMZ.com
Don't even get me started on the fact Bieber followed this all up with spraying cleaner on a picture of the former President of the United States of America, Bill Clinton while saying "fuck you Clinton".  Classy.  Way to respect the country.  The only joy I get from that is the pleasure of saying, "I am surprised he was smart enough to know who the hell Clinton even was.  I am sure that security guard told him".