Hello! I’m MHC & welcome to my weird & wonderful life!
To learn about me, click HERE.
To get in touch with me, click HERE.
I’ve always been a big believer in picking oneself up after a tough time, brushing oneself off and moving forward.
It’s why I keep applying at newspapers. It’s why I ask for feedback about articles. It’s why I thank people for criticism and try to grow. Even if life knocks me on my ass, I can come out of it stronger.
Sometimes that includes when I literally fall on my ass.
For those of you that are new to the party, I love me some crossfit. I’ve been training and preparing for the 2017 Crossfit Open. It’ll start this week and I’ll get to push myself and really focus on getting stronger. I’ll also get to know my fellow gym members. It’s gonna be great.
But sometimes I get cocky. I think I’m more bad ass than I am and then bad things happen. This past week, we were practicing our chest to bar pull ups. I was feeling so bad ass, finally having mastered my beat swings. I was improving and I decided that I must be ready and instead of going up, I fell down, flat on my ass. Instead of achieving my first pull up, I sustained a bruised and slightly fractured tailbone (but I DID scale that WOD AND FINISH IT. Yup, finished the workout with a mangled back. Be proud). Fortunately, my gym peeps are super cool, so my ego wasn’t fractured as well as my tailbone. Everyone was really quick to ask me how I was, even checking in the next day. I missed the brutal birthday WOD & was so disappointed, but I can’t lift when I can’t stand. Or sit. Or function. Doctor said sit out for six weeks, & no standing for long periods of time, but I heard “with lots of yoga, you’ll be training again on Tuesday!” I’ve worked too hard to get Open ready, I am not missing it because of a (literal) pain in the ass.
Life doesn’t stop because you have an ouchie. I can’t take time off from work. I have to get everything ready for my transfer to my new mall, conviently located much closer to my house. I can’t stop training because I’m a little sore. I can’t not take the kids to the WWE Live event I bought them tickets for on my one day off this month because I’m sore. That’s not how life works. You gotta keep doing your thing, even if you feel like a pile of shit.
Part of self improvement means you’re gonna get knocked down a peg a time or two. You’re gonna have a shitty run. You’re gonna have a crap workout. Or, you’re going to literally fall on your ass. But you can always tell the people who are gonna succeed; they get back up. I could have just sat out the WOD, gone home, and decided that even though I’ve been doing it for two years, crossfit is too hard. But I thought about all of my fitness role models. Trish Stratus didn’t let a herniated disc in her back stop her from living an active life. She used yoga and homeopathy to get better. Nikki Bella didn’t let a broken neck stop her, she recovered, adjusted her style, and got back in the ring. No one succeeds by staying down. So I got up, dusted myself off, and plugged along.
You don’t just throw in the towel because you tried something once and it didn’t work. You get up and try again. If JK Rowling got rejected 12 times before a publisher accepted Harry Potter, then I can pitch a story to another newspaper, I can attempt that pull up. I can put together the project my boss tasked me with. I can continue to apply for media jobs and learn from each experience until I accomplish the goal.
So, while I may not break any records, I’ll be going into the Crossfit Open, broken ass and all. I may feel like shit, but I’ll feel accomplished, not to mention I’ll have all of my rad Crossfit CCA peeps kicking ass with me. And I’ll continue to work on my various projects, and towards helping my new staff at my shiny new location, because life doesn’t stop, no matter how much you’re hurting. All you can do is press forward and reach your physical and professional goals.
You know what I love? Women who build up other women. I am all about that. I effing LOVE seeing women succeed. Love. It. When my girl friends succeed, I am like “THAT IS MY GIRL!” Life is too short to be catty. I can’t be that person. I want my women to run shit.
Speaking of women empowering women, I missed all kinds of girl power at the Grammys tonight. I usually love them, but I was watching Naomi win herself a Women’s championship at the Elimination Chamber! While I admit, I am late to the Nao Mob, I respect women who hustle & girl certainly did. Congrats Naomi, you deserved this moment. Proud of you. I was even more proud to see all of WWE’s warrior women hitting up Twitter to congratulate her. I love the Smackdown live Women’s locker room. These girls build each other up. Love it so much & more women could follow this example.
I love when women build up other women. I’m sick of seeing women torn down for no reason. I’m sick of seeing people tear down Taylor Swift because it’s the in thing to do.
When people like Frank Ocean claim that she didn’t deserve Album of the Year, it’s a sign of men once again marginalizing the talent of women. When women support this narrative, we are allowing it to continue. We need to stop being catty and build each other up, which is why I freaking love Adele.
Adele’s brilliant effort 25 won Album of the Year, making her the second female in history to win the award twice (the first being Taylor Swift), beating out Beyoncé. But instead of just thanking her fans and collaborators & walking off, Adele took a moment to lift up Beyoncé & acknowledge her impact on music. Adele took her moment and used it to empower her fellow female artists & she did it well. More women need to build each other up like Adele, she’s a class act all the way.
Adele showed that women can compete and not be Total bitches. You can respect each other. Adele winning doesn’t make Beyoncé’s album bad. It’s just how the Grammy voters saw it. But these two women showed class and sisterhood, which we need more of, especially in this climate where we see people tearing down successful women! Look at the attacks on Taylor. People calling Beyoncé a racist primadonna. Instead of congratulating Lady Gaga for slaying the Super Bowl, people called her fat! It’s even more important that women build each other up.
Before I start, let me say I’m a huge fan of Katy Perry the artist. I think her voice is amazing. I think she has a great message of female empowerment. Her new single Chained to the Rhythm has a great message about stepping outside of your comfort zone and learning about your planet. But you’ve gotta back that shit up, or it’s just hollow words.
Tonight, on two separate occasions, Katy Perry said she took a hiatus for her mental health and it worked, because she didn’t shave her head yet, which appeared to be some thinly veiled shade at Britney Spears, who’s 2007 nervous breakdown made headlines. Katy Perry made several comments about feeling victimized by the song Bad Blood, and how Taylor Swift was calling her out for this type of catty behaviour unjustly. But it’s hard to call it unjust when you used a serious mental illness for punchlines.
Britney Spears is reported to have bipolar disorder, and that’s no joke. This requires medication, counselling, and for some, even watching their diet. This needs to be done every single day. When left untreated, Bipolar disorder can lead to some dangerous and even fatal situations. It’s not funny. It’s scary af. Katy Perry says she’s a feminist. A feminist does not take someone’s darkest hour and use it as a joke. If anything, let’s all give huge props to our girl Britney. She manages to raise a family, co-parent in a healthy way, perform a regular show in Vegas, all while continuing to treat her illness so she can be bad ass. That takes strength, resolve, tenacity, & we should commend Britney. I love Katy Perry’s songs, but for her message to have meaning, she’s gotta walk her talk.
In a world full of catty Katys, be like Adele. Build up your sisters. Celebrate their talents. Be that woman who builds up other women. When you empower each other, you feel better about yourself and they feel better about themselves. There is no downside. So, before you make that snide comment, think of how much better it would feel to be kind.
Let me tell you the story of MHC’s terrible, awful, no good, very bad day.
Actually, it’s probably been about a month of terrible, no good, very bad, but let’s focus on today.
Today, I woke up, fully planned to kick today’s ass. I really did. I had my game face on, I was excited. Truthfully, despite some personal setbacks, I’ve been super jazzed about life. I’ve been writing some really great articles. I’ve been pitching some awesome stories. I’m currently working on something I’m really excited to share with the community. I’ve been transferred to another location as part of a business restructuring and I’ll be starting at my new store in March. It’s closer to my house and the girls’ school. And then I’m treating myself to a week’s staycation to rest and recharge from my crazy February schedule. I’ve been enjoying the gym. It’s been awesome.
Which brings me to today.
Today my kid had an epic tantrum. Like EPIC. I left for work feeling a shitty mom, a shitty neighbour, and a shitty human being. I spent all day in kind of a funk because I felt like the WORST MOM EVER. I work so damn much to keep us fed and clothed that I feel like I’m not giving enough time to them. I mean, I pay someone to clean my house now because I want it done and I have no time. Then they act out sometimes because they are kids & kids do that sometimes. And sometimes I yell back because moms yell sometimes. And in the end, I just feel like an asshole.
Sometimes I get caught up in the social media trap. I see everyone’s seemingly perfect kids and lives and no one worries about money, their kids always behave and everyone’s house is immaculate and I think “why can’t I be that person? Why am I not the person with the dream job and the perfect car and kids who never ever talk back?” Sometimes I just feel like I can’t measure up. I’ll always be white trash trying to make good. My self esteem takes a hit and I just feel awful. Good moms balance. They do it all right. No mistakes ever. Not like me, who just keeps fucking it all up.
Then I come home, lay in my tub, do some yoga, and recognize that this is total bullshit.
Everyone has a bad week or month. Everyone has one of those days where they took a time out to bawl their eyes out because they are so burned out and feel like they handled it all wrong and sit up late at night thinking they are a horrible parent/partner/friend. But if you keep thinking really positively and focus on the good things while making changes, you’ll make it through.
Today, I was lucky enough to have my friend Paul call me to help me feel better. Bad days happen. Shake it off. Another friend texted me a positive affirmation. My best friend Melissa texted me positive Seth Rollins memes because she gets me. But when I asked each of them why I was failing as a mom, they all reminded me of a time that they did not win parenting. Or housekeeping. Or relationships. Or jobs. It’s easy to feel like you won’t measure up when you’re constantly comparing yourself to invisible competition and FB highlight reels. But I’m not failing as a mom. Or a person. It was just one no good, very bad day.
When I feel like the world is gonna crush me, I immediately think of everything good that has happened, big or small (a trick I learned from Katniss Everdeen). I think of the nice ladies at Hudson Bay who gave great customer service. I think of the feel good story I found on Reddit. I think about the cool things my kids do. I think about how much I’ve improved at the gym. How rad my friends are. And suddenly, I don’t feel like my life is garbage anymore.
There’s no instruction manual on how to juggle single parenting, career, home, and being a decent human being. Sometimes I’ll get it right. Sometimes I won’t. But I can’t spend my days beating myself up about the days that I don’t. If I do, I’ll never have any good days. So, the next time there is a no good, very bad day, I’ll take thirty seconds to remember that I’m not competing with the highlight reels, it’s okay to not know how to handle everything and sometimes you just need to learn on the fly and forgive yourself if you didn’t do it right and learn for next time.
Today I discovered the most amazing thing! It’s called “Alternative Facts!”
KellyAnne Conway, aka President Donald Trump’s campaign advisor/uhhhhh what is her job now? Said that Press Secretary Spicer wasn’t asked to lie, just present “alternative facts” about the inauguration. My friend Liz made her own list of alternative facts. In honour of my friend Liz being rad, here is “A Series of Alternative Facts (50 of them)!”
1. I am a size 4
2. And Britney Spears.
4. My diet consists of cake. Cake makes you thin.
5. So do carbs.
6. YOU CAN MAKE FRIENDS WITH SALAD.
7. My kids are the most well behaved children ever.
8. My house is always clean.
9. I did not order Swiss Chalet because it was easier than cooking after working 11 hours last week. Everyone knows I make sure my kids only eat organic food from Whole Foods every single second.
10. We also didn’t have Mucho Burrito for lunch.
11. I’m married to Seth Rollins.
13. And I’ve won as many Oscars as Meryl Streep.
15. And my hair colour is totally natural.
16. The film Gigli was an underrated gem.
17. So was Batman vs. Superman.
18. And CM Punk’s UFC career is totally promising.
20. Geese too.
21. Nickelback is a really great band and we as Canadians are proud of them.
22. Tinder is a great way to meet people.
23. Poutine is an overrated snack
24. Fifty Shades of Grey is super romantic and not at all about stalking.
25. Kevin O’Leary is a great choice for Prime Minister.
26. I absolutely care about your pointless FB status humble bragging about your life. I only rolled my eyes to make sure my brain was excited too.
27. Coldplay is amazing “pump you up” music.
28. My quality of life didn’t improve by playing Skyrim.
29. I absolutely didn’t pre-order my Nintendo Switch before I registered for driving school because I am a responsible adult.
30. I also did not book a week off from work to play Nintendo Switch.
31. Jacked up pickup trucks in the city are total panty droppers and do not infer that you have a tiny penis.
32. Chris Brown is a gentleman.
33. I can see John Cena.
34. When I spoiled the ending of Prison Break, I was HELPING Paul, not ruining his TV experience.
35. I love running. It’s so great.
36. I would totally listen to an entire Pitbull album over being smashed in the face with a bottle.
37. Van Hagar was better than Van Halen.
38. Beyoncé is my best friend.
40. I can deadlift eleventy million pounds.
41. My cat Peachy can cure cancer, she just chooses not to.
42. Vaccines for sure cause autism. I read it on the internet.
43. Ross and Rachel were on a break.
44. I can’t believe so many engagements from the Bachelorette/Bachelor fail!
45. Ice cream sucks.
46. It’s totally normal to dislike animals and not at all a sign that you’re probably a psychopath.
47. Donald Trump is a perfectly rational thinking human being.
48. And the epitome of class.
49. With a thick skin and an ability to take criticism well.
50. Alternative facts aren’t complete bullshit. It’s just a different way of looking at something!
Can I just tell y’all how proud I am to be a human today?
Before I get into that, let me give you some back story. A long time ago, in a small city far away, lived a man named Paul Blundy Sr. Paul Blundy was a pretty rad guy. He even has his own Wikipedia page! He was a politician. And a funeral director. But he was my uncle and he was a great man.
His political career had long ended by the time I entered the world, so to me, he was just my uncle who lived on a beach and had big family gatherings (that I once famously ran away from, because even at three years old, MH did her own thing). When I was a young, homeless, pregnant girl with nowhere to turn, my Aunt Barbara took me into her one bedroom apartment and told me stories about her fine husband, a man who wanted to make a difference. I always said I’d meet that kind of man and marry him (oops). He has a park named after him where I wanted my wedding photos taken. Too bad it pissed down rain. Obviously, God also objected to this union. But my family always reminded us that politics wasn’t just uncomfortable dinner talk. It was about us. About people. About change. My beloved foster father, whom I still consider the greatest man I will ever know, always told me that I didn’t need to vote for my late Uncle’s party. It was my job to ask questions, listen and decide who I wanted to represent me.
So, from the time I was a little tiny MHC, I followed politics. When other little girls wanted to be Barbie, I wanted to interview Mayor Hazel McCallion for my lined paper newspaper. This woman took no shit and even in her eighties, walked parade routes and represented her constituents well. I would stay up late to watch CTV News and ask my mom questions. Even though my family was Liberal to the core, Mila Mulroney’s beauty and class while representing her causes always left me in awe. These women made me want to listen and stand up and use my voice to help others. Now that I’m a mom, I want to teach them to use their voice. I hope they can look up to the Michelle Obamas, the Sophie Gregoire Trudeaus and answer the call to action too.
Which brings me to today.
2.5 MILLION people answered the call of a small FB post and marched peacefully. I wanted so desperately to go to my local march, but alas, I had to work. So, I used my social media feeds to spread the word and show support. No one got arrested. Nothing was lit on fire. Just men and women of all races, religions, all sexualities represented. They all peacefully marched to make a statement; that we will hold the Trump Administration accountable to preserve all human rights. And it was arguably the coolest thing ever.
When we use our voices and band together, we accomplish so much. Today, we accomplished so much. To the brave souls that marched, I am so proud to be alive to see you accomplish what you did. To those who couldn’t, but supported; you are amazing. I hope you inspired many little girls today. To the men who joined, thank you for remembering that men of quality do not fear equality. Whether you are a beautiful celebrity or an introvert who was just brave enough to stand outside your door, I commend you.
I became a journalist to use my voice. I wanted to give information and inspire others to use their voice. So, I am using mine to commend every woman for standing up for each other today. But I’m also using mine to make a small request to my fellow human beings, as the next four years will be challenging. But I’m asking anyway. I hope we can all choose to stand up for almost all women. If you’re pro-choice, stand up for your pro-life friend and vice versa. Respect that you may not agree, but can have civilized discussion. If you’re a SAHM, stand up for the career mom and vice versa. If you’re straight, stand up for your LGBT humans. Stand up for each other (unless you are some vile hate monger like Tomi Lahren. Then, treat her with respect, because the high road is a place you’ll never run into her). Don’t turn a blind eye; stick up for each other…
…this includes the first family.
Before you say “No! MHC, they’re horrible,” let me take you to another perspective. Many believe that President Trump is a psychopathic narcissist. If we believe that he is a narcissistic twat waffle, then how do you think he treats his family?! There are plenty of articles about how narcissists raise their families. How they treat their mates. If Alec Baldwin imitating Trump sends him into a rage, how do you think he treats his family?! They are likely prisoners of his delusions as well. Every time you put a jab normalizing the idea of Trump sexual assaulting Ivanka, you’re giving him ammunition. Every time you poke fun at Melania’s nudes, you are empowering him. Now, he can tell them we, common people, think they are whores. They’d be nothing without him. They can’t leave; he’d ruin them and we’d laugh. If you must throw your barbs, throw them at the man who has earned them (& Mike Pence, the Vice President twatwaffle). But please, leave Barron, Tiffany, Ivanka & Melania out of them. You are only empowering the very awful human we wish to subdue. I don’t know Melania or Ivanka, but they present as kind hearted, lovely people, very submissive to their overbearing father/spouse. We can’t claim to want to build each other up and then take our shots at those Trump can take his rage out on.
Today was a wonderful day to be a human. We came together as allies. So let’s continue to be allies. Not just for our selected groups, but for all people willing to stand up for each other. Let’s be the example; the ones who treat each other with respect. The more we allow people like Donald Trump to divide and conquer, the more people like Donald Trump acquire the power to divide and conquer. Don’t give him that power anymore.
I always say that the world would be an infinitely better place if we practiced the lost art of not being an asshole. So, let today be the foundation that we build unity and understanding on, not a footnote in a history book beside a downward spiral.
You ever have one of those nights where you’re tired af but your brain is like:
“Hey, member Third Eye Blind? They were fucking rad. You should listen to their entire discography at 1am. That’s SUCH A GOOD IDEA.”
Truthfully, I’m probably wide awake because I ate a bunch of shit food to ring in the new year. I planned to avoid shit food because I’m working to cut some weight before the Crossfit Open. I couldn’t enter last year because my hip was injured, I had the kidney infection from Hell, and I hated everyone at my gym. This year, my hip is in great shape, and I love everyone at my gym! Because I love my gym, I go there at least three times a week and I’m seeing progress. I’ve built all of my strength back (except my squats are still at a 10lbs deficit) & even hit a new PR for my power cleans, push press and hang snatch. I lift heavy things and then do a happy dance because I am actually a nerd. But after a month of eating properly again, my body rejects shit food. My Fitbit also shames me. Yeah, I have a damn Fitbit. My boss gave one to the entire leadership team. We are challenging each other while also demonstrating the value of the Fitbit to customers. I think it’s quietly judging me. But, it’s helped me come up with a great story idea about wearables and the pros and cons of them, which is awesome.
That’s the big thing for me right now, I have so many ideas on the go that I think it’s hard to shut my mind off sometimes. Before, my goals were focused. They’ve been focused for years; get an article published by a major media outlet…& I did the thing I set out to do. When I got on the plane, I had tunnel vision; get the article published. And I did it in exactly 377 days. Then I focused on getting my story idea published. And I did that. Now I’m trying to build on that while also working a day job, raising a family, and gains. I have two stories on the go right now, one of which I’m super excited about. I have a third pitch ready and I’m brainstorming a fourth. My blog rant about the wrasslin got rave reviews, including by WWE Superstars. I’m wondering if I should strike while the iron is hot and pitch a column about WWE from the female fan’s perspective. I think it’s an untapped market and it could really help me slowly transition into covering other stuff, like MMA coverage. This would diversify my portfolio to include sports writing. I’ve managed to use social media for its intended purpose and have gotten my name out there a bit (if you want to follow me on social media, click here to find out how). I’m working my ass off at my day job to get the kids the life they deserve. And I’m allowing myself my time to do MH things like visit friends and crossfit. I finally have a full life out here. But I think I get so excited about my projects and ideas (now that they aren’t centralized) that I can’t. fucking. sleep.
I guess I can’t complain. How lucky am I that my only problem in life is that too many awesome things are happening all at once? I’ve worked so hard and it’s all finally paying off. My girls are seeing the power of hard work; it pays off. So, I keep doing it. I keep working harder. I also try to focus on how I treat people & how much I can give back to people. I once had nothing and now (while I’m by no means rich) I have the ability to help others. I need to give that back. I need to donate, to give, to help. I need to be a good person because the world needs more of them. So, I’ll be the hardest working nice person that I can be and a role model for my littles in the hopes that I can evolve into a woman they can be proud of.
On the start of the new year, I’m wide awake thinking of all the stories I want to write and ideas I want to share and goals I want to meet. No “new year, new me.” New year, same old MHC, same old goals;
1. Be a good mom
2. Be a good person
3. Be the best mother fucking writer I can be.
4. Never compete with the crossfitters, only compete with yesterday’s scores until I am a bad ass.
And maybe, to have a voiceover introduce me with “From Concord, California, comes the most stylish, elegant, bewitching, eternally beguiling, contentiously charismatic, and fantastically fascinating woman to appear in this or any arena,” whenever I walk into public places. Or not. Whatever.
My point is that it’s kind of nice to feel successful and settled into your life. When I got here, I was so afraid that I wouldn’t make friends, find a job where I fit with the company culture, or worse, I wouldn’t succeed as a writer. I shouldn’t have worried so much, because everything came together the way it should once I started trusting my instincts and putting in the work. So, I’ll keep putting in the work and life will only get better and better.
Oh, and PS; Third Eye Blind put out an album in 2015 called Dopamine and it’s damn good. Check it out.
Welp, it’s that time of year again, where we look back at our year. I started 2016 at a restaurant, where a man & I went online and selected what was to be my engagement ring. I’m ending it standing on my own, working on an article that I pitched, and despite the odd start, it was still one of the best years of my life.
Why? Because I was blessed with the opportunity to finally prove that I could do it on my own. I turned personal sadness into professional success. I took risks and built my portfolio up and it was rad. I made some of the most amazing friends. And most importantly, I accomplished the dream I’ve had since I was a little girl. Then I wrote something and people listened. Not just one person. Over 1000 people listened. They commented, they agreed. For the first time in my life, I felt like the journalist I’m meant to be. This was the most successful year of my professional life. I realized any monster who would build a family to abandon it with no explanation (or even a breakup) isn’t worthy of my love. So I’m content to build my empire and when a man worthy of me comes along, I’ll be ready. But most importantly, I discovered who I’m supposed to be without my friends, without a man, on my own. And I learned that the woman I’m meant to be is a writer and a leader. Someone who loves everyone. And nice. Way too fucking nice. I’m a crossfitter who loves food and I am so unapologetically proud of the woman I am. Each of these moves helped me become the happiest girl in the world. I took my life back and it was so amazing. So, it was the best year ever.
As always, here’s a look at my year (without photos of my daughters to protect their privacy). I hope you had the best year ever & 2017 is even better.
If you ever want to follow my zany adventures*, make sure you follow me on Snapchat (unless I’ve blocked you on Snapchat)! I’ve added my snap code below.
Looks like we’ve got another edition of “what really grinds my gears.”
Tonight, why the continued use of slut shaming in WWE concerns female fans like me.
Before I get started, let me explain that this isn’t a shot on male fans who defend the angle. Male fans have a different perspective than female fans about certain things & we are going to identify a different way. I remember laughing when Chris Jericho called Stephanie McMahon THAT name as a kid because I didn’t understand what women go through every day. They don’t either. This is about informing, not attacking.
My daughters love WWE programming, but most notably the women. They own piles of merchandise, they waited in the snow for five hours hoping to meet Sasha Banks and Bayley. My youngest has a countdown to the next live event where she hopes to meet her idol Nikki Bella. But one of their favourite personalities is Lana. Yes, Lana. Two years ago, they squeaked with delight, pledging allegiance to mother Russia if it meant she would take selfies with them. They cheered for Lana through her husband Rusev’s match. Lana was the best thing ever to them. When I asked why, it was because Lana was strong, unafraid, when she spoke, people listened & she wasn’t just another girl, she was Rusev’s equal & he treated her that way. Lana was amazing.
For little girls, Lana represented more than just a Russian woman that was hot. She was an eloquent speaker, Rusev listened to her, respected her, and everyone cared what she had to say. Men had Paul Heyman, women had Lana. Even during that disastrous love triangle storyline, my girls would plead with Lana to get back in her business suits and tear everyone apart.
Recently, WWE started a storyline where resident loudmouth Enzo Amore flashed Lana. Instead of apologizing, he flirted with her. Then, he spent weeks telling her husband Rusev that Lana wants him, fantasizes about him because he’s just soooooo manly. The story played out where Lana decided to show Enzo how it felt to feel ashamed, helpless, victimized. She offered him a chance to come to her hotel room, stripped him down, and Rusev beat him up, which of course in wrestling land meant Big Cass, Enzo’s partner needed to settle things by having a match, not like, calling the cops.
Last night when I got home from work, the PPV event Roadblock had already started and I asked my girls what I missed. They proceeded to tell me it was awful, the New Day lost! But my nine year old also said “Enzo called Lana a bunch of bad names and I don’t like him anymore.”
When I read an excerpt of what he said, I was floored.
I understand for male fans, it’s hard to understand, but for female fans, we deal with Enzo Amore’s three times a month. I recently just wrote about how a man harassed me for WEEKS because I said no. When I decline a date, I get “well you weren’t that hot anyway,” “you led me on by saying you liked video games and wrestling,” “I bet you’re a cheap hoe.” This is the behaviour that Enzo Amore is exhibiting. He was told no and he proceeded to tell Lana for weeks that she didn’t mean no, she wants him. When she set up what many women have fantasized about, flipping the script on their harasser, she was the villain. Rusev is defending his wife from a creep, how is he the villain? He seems like a great guy, trying to protect his wife. But in WWE land, he’s a jerk and Enzo is just trying to have fun. Okay.
This sort of thing needs to stop. I’m all for TV and people getting it’s make believe, but it’s obvious that WWE doesn’t know how to write for women. Women don’t see Enzo as a funny guy. To us, he’s every guy at the bar that stalked us to our car (after calling us fat & a slut to get high fives from his friends) because we said no. Girls are watching and being shown this behaviour is okay. That if a woman says no, she’s the bad guy. Women fans deserve better.
In WWE land, women are consistently marginalized when they are accomplished. Big Cass’s real life girlfriend (& former manager) Carmella was recently written as a catty girl jealous of Nikki Bella. Carmella was written to say a promo where she credited all of Nikki’s success to her boyfriend John Cena. And male fans nodded in approval. Yes, this is what happened. My seven year old screamed at our TV to stop because Nikki worked so hard to come back and girls shouldn’t say this about other girls. But this is considered status quo.
Yes, Nikki got her revenge, by beating Carmella and proving that she is the better athlete (to the delight of my seven year old), but the damage is done. Places like Reddit belittle Nikki, talking about how she keeps her job by opening her legs. No mention of how she worked for months to come back to a full time schedule after a debilitating neck injury that could have left her paralyzed. More attention is paid to her two second hip wiggle. Nikki’s marketability as a role model is questioned. My youngest will tell you Nikki is strong and brave and athletic and she & her sister Brie could best everyone because they outsmarted them. No mention of a hip wiggle. But lots of mention of Nikki’s determination, bravery, kindness, athleticism. Maybe we need to listen to kids.
You can have great storytelling without women bringing each other down. Sasha Banks & Charlotte Flair have done it for months. They just wanted to be the best. Carmella & Nikki could have done the same without the tired mean girl is jealous schtick. Rusev could have been praised by the announce team for being a stand up guy, defending his wife from inappropriate behaviour and condemning the frat boy antics. But alas, WWE went another way. However, I do hope male fans understand that while to them, it’s a funny storyline, for female fans, it’s a daily reality for us, that our success will always be marginalized to build up a man, or that when we say no to creeps, we are somehow in the wrong. Maybe, WWE will listen to the fans (and Lana herself, who has been very vocal on Twitter that she finds this distasteful) and we will see Rusev and Lana be celebrated for standing up to the bullies. But more likely, we’ll see a new shirt emblazoned with one of the catch lines designed to humiliate her.
Every once in awhile, I interrupt my normal adventures to mention something that really grinds my gears (I promise we’ll return to the regular format of “today I made choices that weren’t completely awful” later).
This past week, Ryan Reynolds received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. He was joined at the ceremony by his wife Blake Lively and his two daughters, James and her sister, who’s name has not been made public. The internet was delighted to see the rambunctious two year old running around and clapping. She even dropped the mic when she decided the ceremony was over. The entire display was adorable as all get out. But of course, the sanctimommies were out in full force to criticize James’s dinosaur coat, her out of control curls, her behaviour, and her name. To those people, please do shut the fuck up.
(Before you ask why there are no photos of James and her sister accompanying this post, it’s simple. Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively have asked that their children be sheltered from the public eye as much as possible. As a parent who does not post her own children’s photos here to protect their privacy, I feel it would be inappropriate to post photos of their children. If you want to see them, you’re welcome to Google)
These horrible commenters are the very reason that Reynolds and Lively opted to shield their daughters from the public eye. They have stated repeatedly that they want James and her sister to have a normal childhood. That James & her sister did not choose a public life; their parents did. They are under no obligation to tell the public their children’s names, show you photos or justify why they named them what they did. They don’t need to justify why their daughter wore a dinosaur coat. They’re not ugly. And anyone who can spew venom at a two year old and her three month old sister needs to get some serious help.
I can understand why people who are dissatisfied with their lives could have an issue with Ryan Reynolds or Blake Lively. Here are two attractive and successful people who have found a great love and have a lovely family. But that’s no reason to project your bitterness onto them. I read such classy comments that the pair must have wanted boys, look at the “boy clothes” they were dressed in and James’s name. First of all; James was in a dress. Hardly “boy” clothes. Secondly, there are no boy or girl clothes, just clothes. And most importantly, Reynolds named his daughter for his beloved father, who passed away shortly before her birth. And even if Reynolds & Lively named their kid Princess Banana Nut Muffin, it is none of your damn business what Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively named their kids.
Let’s all say it together; IT IS NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS WHAT RYAN REYNOLDS OR BLAKE LIVELY NAME OR HOW THEY DRESS THEIR KIDS.
I love pop culture, but kids should be off limits. Paparazzi shouldn’t photograph celebrity kids. If celebrities choose to post photos of their kids on social media, and you must comment, leave the same comment that you would leave on a friend or family member’s social media page. If you can’t be nice; be quiet. Would you tell your friend or family member that their kid has a stupid name or they were dressed poorly? Would you Shame a friend for not breastfeeding or belittle them? This happened to Kristin Cavallari and her husband Jay Cutler when she posted a family snapshot. Her choice to give her kids a vegan diet was questioned, with people accusing her of starving her kids, saying they needed a cheeseburger, etc. While I do not agree with her decision to not vaccinate her children, I respect that she is their mother and it’s her call.
Let’s all say it together; IT IS NONE OF OUR DAMN BUSINESS WHAT KRISTIN CAVALLARI AND JAY CUTLER FEED THEIR CHILDREN.
Kids didn’t choose to be in the public eye. They are not “fair game” because their parents are famous. This argument was common online when WWE Universal Champion Kevin Owens’s wife Karina was forced to delete her Instagram account because bullies insulted her son Owen & daughter Elodie. They used the justification that since Owens is a bad guy on TV and uses his social media in character, that it was “fair” to insult his eight year old son and two year old daughter and harrass his wife. Karina is not famous. She lives a quiet life with her family in Quebec. She didn’t deserve the abuse. That would be like someone insulting you because your husband got drunk at a family gathering and pissed them off. Isn’t that stupid?
Let’s all say it together; YOU DO NOT GET TO INSULT KEVIN OWENS’S FAMILY BECAUSE HE BLOCKED YOU ON TWITTER.
I know celebrities seem larger than life, but they’re people too. They love their families. They want the best for their kids just like you or me. Ryan Reynolds doesn’t owe you access to his kids (so you can call them ugly) because you went to see Deadpool AND the Green Lantern and you watched all six seasons of Gossip Girl so Blake Lively best share every gory deta of her birth stories. They have every right to protect them from trolls and bullies, just like you would protect your family from online abuse & mean strangers.
So, the next time you feel the need to question a famous person’s parenting, ask yourself how you would feel if someone did it to you, because I bet someone has and it super pissed you off. I always tell people that the world would be an infinitely more wonderful place if we practiced the lost art of not being an asshole. Let’s try not being an asshole.
Let me tell you a story.
I have an online dating account. I’ve had it forever. I used to use it to troll creepers. Now I use it to (kind of) try to meet people. I’ve been getting to know the guy we’ll call the stage five clingy soldier for awhile now, but that’s a story for another day, when I feel like talking about my love life. I got kind of burned so I leave my relationships out of my blogging life.
Anywho, back to the actual story. Most of my adventures in online dating look a lot like this:
My personality is rather snarky on a good day & my guard is up after being led down the yellow brick road and left alone in the woods to find my way home alone, but again, another story for another day. But I can be polite too. However, today’s story involves a man I said no to, & why some women struggle to say no.
See, I said no to a guy awhile back. Then he mocked my career. So I questioned his being self employed. After some harassment, I blocked him. Tonight, I was met with him (on a new account) seeking me out and sending this gem.
Sadly, this is a harsh reality women face when they are dating. No can turn into a dangerous situation (here’s a link to a story about 14 other women who found themselves in far more dangerous situations). People ask why women don’t say no/stay with their abusers/go back to their narcissistic exes, well here’s why. No can be dangerous. No can lead to violence. Smear campaigns. Verbal abuse. All because we said no.
The end of my story is simple. I told the guy off, blocked him and laughed about it on Twitter. But for a lot of women, that’s not an option. They’re stalked. They’re harassed. Bullied. And people defend this behaviour. So I decided to share this story as a harsh reminder of the realities that women face when they say no. Not all men do this stuff, but all women have a story like this one. Whether it’s a catcall, a stranger telling her to smile, or the guy who follows her down the street, every woman has a story about a man who didn’t take no for an answer. So, before you say “not all guys are like this” or “why don’t women say something,” take a moment and remember that this is why.
I hope the take away from this story is that threatening to ruin a woman professionally isn’t the way to her heart. Also, that apparently editors are very wealthy. I didn’t know this. When I was an editor, wealthy was not the word I would have used (unless he has pictures of Spider-Man. Maybe that’s why he’s rich?). Perhaps try tact. Or not being a raging doucher. I know, strange concept, but try it, it might work!