Bah Humbug


Photo on 7-17-14 at 6.30 PM

My life has been a fucking mess lately. Scene: Like a Girls episode except I’m not Lena Dunham, and I’m also not in New York City. Oh, I also don’t have a hot manic boyfriend named Adam. And I freaking hate Cool Whip. So, pretty much the only similarity is she also struggles. I STRUGGLE, WE ALL STRUGGLE.

It’s true. Sometimes life deals you weird, terrible, shitty cards. And you’re holding them in your hands, at an imaginary poker table, and you’re like, wait what? Where did these come from? How did I get these cards? These cards are wrong! Take them back, Kevin Spacey!

Let’s back it up a bit.

Just a few short months ago I felt pretty optimistic about my L-I-F-E. I was some dude in an 80s movie with Ray Bans and high-top sneakers giving the thumbs up to everyone around me. I’m envisioning Tom Cruise or maybe Robert Downey Jr. Long story short, I was feeling fly. And I was doing it on my own.

“Here I am, walking down the street! The sun is shining! I have my stuff together! I got this! Summer in the city! my life is GOIN’ GREAT. Watch out, world!”

Yes, my friends, things were coming together. I was writing consistently, treating myself well (mentally AND physically), putting myself back into the dating game, seeing someone new, eating bananas, feeling the sun on my wintered-out skin, dressin’ fancy. YOU KNOW, things that normally signify health and happiness…er something like that.

And then, all of the sudden, they weren’t. Things got strange. Life threw me a ::CLICHE ALERT:: curveball. And I’m not going to get into the specifics of what exactly happened (…but BOYS, IT’S ALWAYS BOYS) that started this bizarre, downward spiral again. Because really, in all honesty, that’s not the point. I let a situation take advantage of me and bring me down. Which is not what a strong ladyGIRL does. I should have been smarter. I should have had my guard up. I should have seen through the act. Shoulda, shoulda, shoulda.

But I didn’t, sadface, and then things got difficult. And I’ve been here for a little while. Hell, I’ve been here lots of times in my life. But the disappointment always feels new. And then you decide to go out, pretend to be happy and carefree and social, and then come back and worry yourself to sleep at night. Wondering, will it ever REALLY get better? Eh, it’s not so great.

So what I want to talk about here is the ascent. Which is what I’m struggling with right now.

Yes, ladies and gents, that glorious ascent back into awesomeness.

And it can be done, but it’s super hard and annoying because you’re like, I just had everything, and I was HAPPY, and now I have to start AGAIN?! Yes, it’s stupid. Life is weird. There’s no denying the fact that it sucks to feel like you’re at the bottle of some old, rusty barrel again.

I want to start to climb back out once more. To open myself up to new things and places and people and eat those damn bananas again. And shine from the inside out. Because I know I’m capable of it, and I also know I’m 26 and I’m young and in my prime. I should be clicking my kitten heels and wearing bubblegum-hued lipstick and drinking Moscow mules. There’s no point getting hung up on people or things that won’t matter when everything is weighed in a balance. The people who care about you and have your best interests in mind will stay.

I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. The point of this blog is simple: If you get pushed down by some dildo who’s out to make your life a living nightmare, you get back up. Because you gotta. Because you’re awesome.


The Furry Culprit


The Furry Culprit

So this blog is about how I let my cats walk all over me. Both literally and figuratively, and I’m going to explain how so ~watch out~!


They do. They walk all over me. They do it good. They are so crafty, these feisty felines of mine.

Yet, if you think about it, ALL pets do that. Dogs, cats, birds: anything that’s cute and small. They just walk the hell over us and we stand there, taking it like cowering pledges in a fraternity. Because what, may I ask, are we going to do about it? Are we going to stand up, a human army and say, “We’re not going to stand for this anymore!” and walk around with painted picket signs saying defiant things? Have a sit-in? We do nothing because they have furry faces that stare back at us. Furry, little, baby, approval-seeking faces. Those damn whiskers.

Here is what is prompting me writhing my animal-loving fists in the air, stomping my feet on the ground and saying “stupid human! You fell for it again!”

Seymour, my debonair tuxedo cat, peed all over the clothes that were (we’ll say, clumsily) placed upon my VINTAGE chair. I know, I KNOW. BUT SRSLY (…I like that chair. SUE ME) Hashtag firstworldprobz.

Anyway he did it. And I marched around for a little while, saying things like, “that damn cat!” and “Grrrrrr” (attempting to imitate, I don’t know, a dog?), grabbing my urine-soaked clothes and shaking them at him. Though i’ve suffered through this attack, this affront on my Humandom numerous times, I’m always confused.

“YOU…YOU. YOUUUUUU are in big big trouble mister.”

“[…]” – because he can’t respond.



“Do you know what kind of big, big trouble you’re going to be in, Mister Man?”

“[…]” Staring up at me, big gold eyes puckering out. At this point, he might have even crossed a paw, that little bastard.


Because that’s exactly it. I have no idea what “big big trouble” is. I mean, would that entail exactly? That I’d put him in a kitty time-out, take away his t.v. privileges for a day, make him sleep on the floor? No, I can’t very well do those things. So I just fume furiously around the room and curse his little furry baby ways. It’s evil sorcery.

And he does shit like this all the time. Pushes me, shoves me, sees how far he can take me into his furry kingdom of domination where he sits with a sceptre.

Exhibit numero two: I’ll be working, right, concentrating on somethin’ real hard, eyebrows are furrowed at the computer screen, it’s something real tough and taxing on the brain. And he’ll just walk right up onto my desk and right the fuck over my keyboard. Boop, boop, boop, little paws on my now distracted fingers. Consonants spilled everywhere. And I’ll take him, place him down and the floor and say “No, no Seymour,” only to have him bounce back up onto my desk again. It’s a constant assembly line of putting the cat down onto the floor. ^ v ^ v up down, up down. Over and over and OVER again.

He also does these things:

Drinks my iced coffee when I’m out of the room.

Breaks expensive teacups and bowls.

Stands in front of my face, like, right in front of my face, and meows at me.

Continually knocks over his hefty cat tower. It sounds like a shot through the heart.

Licks his butt in front of me and smiles.

Wakes me up at 4:30 a.m. so that he can race around the room like Jeff Fucking Gordon.

Oh! I said I had cats (plural), so my other cat, you ask? To which I dejectedly mumble the equivalent of the phrase, “Same shit, different day.” I love them though, PROMISE.

Because so what, right? What am I going to do?

Well, here, here is what I’m going to do. Here is what YOU ALL are going to do. You’re going to look that little animal in the eye, unsuccessfully spot any weakness and cave like the pussycat you are.

Stupid human.

Your Body is a Wonderland?


Your Body is a Wonderland?

Summer’s approaching (or so I hear) and I went on a lovely, but blustery walk today on my lunch break. That wind though! Yikes. SUN, where you at, bro? It came out a little today and for that I am happy. I’d love some consistency though. Can I get an amen?

Anyways it felt nice, so so nice, to get out and walk and think and ponder. And at first the thoughts were pleasant.

Hey, look at that bird over there! A squirrel!

That home addition is really coming along.

There’s a puddle there. No problem, I’ll jump over it!

And the thoughts stayed there for a little while. Lighthearted and innocent, like fluffy little clouds.

But then, it happened. My thoughts started to turn on me. Like an overwhelming current, I got taken away to that overpopulated island of thoughts called: MY BODY. Yep, it’s that huge mass of muddled thoughts that enters the minds of most women wayyy too often. I’m pretty sure I think about it 85% of the time. Like, it’s what I think about throughout MOST of my day. Isn’t that sad? And, at least for me, it’s usually never good thoughts. It’s self-deprecating and mean.

Let me say this. I’ve been doing pretty well in terms of taking care of said body, actually dammit, very well. Since February I’ve lost 21 pounds. And I did that all by eating healthy and exercising consistently. Hell, I even weigh what I did as a high school swimmer, when I was a Grenadier at good ‘ol EGHS. But somehow, that just isn’t enough. The body I’ll be “comfortable with” is still sitting high up on a cliff somewhere. The place where John Mayer wrote, Your Body is a Wonderland. I still see thigh gaps, toned arms and long elegant legs and think: you will never have those. “Your arms are still kind of chubby. Your legs are awkward and full-looking. Will that cellulite on the back of my legs EVER go away? Why can’t my boobs be smaller?” (<—-yes, yes I mean that last one)

And then comes the whole bathing suit nonsense. I tried my red bikini on the other day because (yay!) I'm going to Florida in June. And despite having come so far, I still felt disappointed. "Your tummy is still a bit pudgy. God, you're so pale. If only I had longer legs and arms, then maybe the fat could be spread out and you'd look more thin. Tonight, you seriously need to do more crunches." Yes, these are things I think to myself. And I know I'm not alone. Not even close.

So I'm walking along on this walk I was talking about earlier and I'm feeling strength in my legs that I didn't have pre-February. I feel lighter when I take strides. And both those things are great. Those are things for which I SHOULD be rewarding myself. And I've come a long ways in terms of my fitness. I push myself in Zumba so hard, I do weight training consistently, I can run A LOT farther and faster, I can do 13 push-ups in a row! I ordered a FitBit!

Great, but the mirror is still my enemy. That 2 x 7 foot square that stares back at me daily. Will it ever not be? It doesn't seem like it. And how do we as women fix something that is so largely ingrained in our culture? In the deepest roots of our society, there it is: body-shaming. Like a big black hole. Because that really is what it is, a big gaping black hole. Nothing ever comes from it but nasty, dark feelings. What's the point of it? I don't know, but there they are.

My point? I'm going to start focusing on the good. I'm going to try. I'm going to try harder. And I'm going to keep pushing myself fitness-wise because that's what feels good. I'll never stop wanting those toned arms, that flat stomach. And that's okay I think. But maybe, just maybe, if I think more often, you go girl, it'll start to sink in.

We are inching along. Every so often I'll see a "body acceptance" video tossed around on Facebook. An Amy Poehler Smart Girls campaign or something similar. Here's my contribution. If you're working out and eating healthy, give yourself a hearty pat on the pack. You go girl. You are doing what you should be doing. Your body is a wonderland.

Lost in the Cacti


Lost in the Cacti

Hey, gang! Athankya for coming back to my second blog post. Things are about to start getting really hot up in here, so I hope you’re ready. It’s Nelly circa 2002 in the club. Shirts are flying. Drinks are popping.

…wait for it…

…I just got back from Arizona. And it was sizzlin’ hot (see how I got ya there?) Yep, it was pretty darn hot. The whole “you could fry an egg on this” analogy was used many times. Well in traveling there, right on the outskirts of Phoenix, I got to see my fun-lovin’ brotherman Brian, his lovely, amazing girlfriend Erin and their dog Zane (guhhhh, so furry and cute). Yay for reunions and spending time with the ones you love. It was great. PLUS, they have a ton of roaming stray cats in their apartment complex, so I was really in my element 😉 I made a few kitty friends and came pretty darn close to bringing them home with me. All of us lined up in a cat gang. I didn’t though…le sigh.

So right now I’m about to go all “show and tell” on you and here’s to hoping you stick it out. There’s a point to it, I promise! One of my favorite things I did there was go to the Desert Botanical Garden with Erin. Two words: cacti galore! As a Chicago native, I simply had no idea that many varieties of succulents existed. Contrary to the midwest-minded me, there are more than just the standard, one-big-prickly-trunk-and-two-stalks-coming-out-of-it cactus. You know, that type of cactus you see on souvenirs and in your mind when you think “Arizona cactus.” The myriad of growing things reminded us of plants you’d see on Mars, or some other faraway planet. There are so many different kinds! Whoa.

So we got “prickly pear” margaritas and roamed around, and totally nature-nerded out the entire time. I got the opportunity to snap a bunch of photos with my fancy shmancy camera, too, which made me really happy. And (as if this could get any better) the garden was also home to glass artist Dale Chihuly (check it out). So there were all these incredible, soaring sculptures blended in with these alien plants. A bluegrass band could be heard distantly playing in the background which gave an awesome undertone to our margarita buzz.

We got lost a bunch of times since neither of us is good with directions (…and because the setup was confusing at best). HOWEVER, here is the thing, getting lost in there was a.w.e.s.o.m.e. Probably one of the most amazing times I’ve had in recent memory – the mix of nature and art and music! Erin and I were like kids that just stepped inside Wonka’s factory for the first time. We trekked through giddily, all the while letting nature’s poetry sink deep. Even if we had passed something in the garden before — “Hey, have we been down this row yet?” “Have we seen this?” — we were wonderstruck again. The colors, the sounds, the red mountains in the background fading in the midst of the dimming sunlight. Aw, mannnn, you should have been there.

Which brings me to the point of this post: people need to expend more time and energy in nature. Holy cow. Spending that day at the nature museum in Phoenix, AZ made me really realize again that there’s a big blue world out there. A huge one. And Phoenix is just a tiny speck on the map. I’ve been around the U.S., not a ton though, and I’ve only been out of it once to Mexico. Yeah, I need to get out more. We all do! If it weren’t for those damn, inconvenient things called ahem, work and money, I’d have my next trip booked stat.

But yes, traveling is awesome and everyone should do it as often as they can. You’ve heard this, we all have, but it’s definitely a totally valid piece of advice. Mother Nature is “where the party’s at.” Not inside some club or on the couch. Out in the thick of the trees, walking among the animals. The sunlight and the leaves and the wind blowing in your hair.

Going on that journey with Erin (both of us strong women! heck yeah!) was just another building block into helping me feel like an unstoppable force. And while my paycheck and work schedule isn’t exactly affording me the opportunity to backpack around Europe, I want to keep traveling on my radar. To remember its importance and validity. It’s easy to get stuck in the convenience of home, the internet and Netflix. Hey, I’m definitely guilty. But it’s so very important to see what’s going outside, to stroll among our non-speaking fellow organisms, to keep that child-like wonder of Dora.

Explore, explore, explore.