It was geek Christmas. The theatrical release of Catching Fire, which I enjoyed with the not so angriest tween. The new Legend of Zelda came out, which I promptly bought before my shift & I bought Baptized, the latest Daughtry album & enjoyed all of the new songs.
I couldn’t imagine living a life where things like an afternoon with my daughter or a great song on the radio didn’t make the whole day amazing. I couldn’t imagine a life where simple things like that don’t make your day brighter & happier. I love that the tiniest things in life can make the whole world shine a little brighter.
So, laugh with a friend today. Play a game. Sing the goofiest song ever with your kids. Sing along with mall music or play in the rain. Do something little & let it make your whole day bright & wonderful.
I’ve been thinking a lot about dating lately, mainly because my friend is doing a lot of it. She’s on a new first date almost every weekend. I wish I could be that person sometimes; the person who can detach themselves until they’re ready to get attached, I’m not sure why. But I’m not. I’m just that one man girl. However, as I (hopefully) move into my new home (as house hunting has become a clusterf*ck), I realize that I need to be open to the idea of falling in love again. I don’t think I’m ready just yet, but in case I do meet someone in my new city, I need to be open to the idea that my Mr. Right is there somewhere. So, over the last few weeks, I’ve been focusing on finding a house, letting go of the life I knew & opening myself up to the idea of dating again.
I know there is a right person out there for me. I don’t know if I’ve met them, if I haven’t, but they are somewhere. But I figure he should be prepared for what life with me will be like, so I wrote this letter.
Dear Soulmate,
I don’t know if I’ve met you yet. Maybe I did. Maybe we’ve dated & messed it up & the universe keeps trying to make it right. Maybe you’re the hot guy @ the Wind Mobile store who gave me directions while house hunting last month. Maybe you’re one of those first dates I never gave a chance. Maybe you’re a childhood friend I’ll casually bump into. Maybe you’re someone I’ve never met & when I do, I’ll know why everyone before you sucked. But once the universe puts us together, I wanted to let you know a few things so we can work.
1. My kids & my writing come first. Always. These are my true loves & I need to put them first. They were here before you. They’ll be here after you. I don’t expect you to raise my girls, but if you meet them, I expect you to love them. If you promise them something, keep it. Be good to them. Treat them the way you would want me to treat your family. They are sweet, wonderful children & they will love you so much. Don’t break their hearts. Respect my writing. Know it’s my life. Be proud of me when I land a great story because I’ll be thrilled to death.
2. My life is generally a chaotic mess of my own making. I’m trying; really. If you could just stick around & gently help me learn the values of organization & time management instead of tsk tsking, I’d really appreciate it.
3. I’m good in a crisis, but little things tear me to pieces. There’s a reason, and someday I’ll tell you.
4. I will always be afraid that you’ll leave me. ALWAYS. It’s not that I won’t trust you, it’s just I’m always afraid of losing people. It’ll make me clingy sometimes. Just sit me down & look me in the eye & tell me to chill out because you love me & it’ll be okay.
5. Please don’t ask my friends how to talk to me, or to relay info to me. Please talk to me. Things get messed up that way. Let’s keep everything between us (& with your permission, high level blog fodder).
6. I won’t get jealous per say, but I will tell you if something is bothering me. I will also trust you to handle those situations in a way that you see fit. I don’t tell men what to do. I explain why it bugs me & trust you. I don’t see the point in getting pissy.
7. I’ll have infinite patience for your crap. I’ll give you a million chances & if you’re worth it, take you back if you walk away. Because I love unconditionally, without restrictions & see you for what you are & embrace it. You will be safe & adored with me. You will be treated like Superman.
8. That doesn’t mean treat me like crap either. I’m not going to devalue me for you like I did with all of my other relationships with men. If I’m kissing your ass because I think you’re Prince Charming, than you should treat me like post-slipper Cinderella. You should know that I’m beautiful & special & I deserve to be happy too. You should want to make me as happy as I’m dying to make you & if you don’t want to do that, then you are too selfish to be with ANYONE, least of all me. Relationships are about loving each other, not sucking someone’s love like a sponge & leaving them when your ego is boosted, or expecting someone to be your saviour & make you feel awesome while you are degrading or abusing me. One person shouldn’t be doing all of the giving. I will always give you more, it’s my nature, but I’m not going to accept a man’s complete lack of effort. Love is work. Love is about doing the right thing for the other person, because even if it wasn’t what you might have wanted, you made that person happy. If you try, even a little, I’ll give you the damn world; but I think I’m worth you making me a little happy too. I am smart & pretty & charismatic & charming. I am strong & patient & brave & have survived more than you will ever know. I am driven to succeed & have done well thus far. I am great @ trivia & can use big words in their proper context. I’m well read & elegant, but love wrestling & beer. I’m awesome & I’m worth a lot: I’m worth swallowing pride for. I’m worth admitting you are wrong & I am worth fighting for, even if you’re fighting some internal battle with yourself & if you don’t know that, then there is another man that will & this letter is for him.
9. I’m weird. I sing along with mall music, I’m often immature. I’m a general goofball. I generally have the weight of the world on my shoulders, so when I get to be “free” I like to let loose. I don’t care how much I love you, I will hang up on you during a boss fight while playing Zelda & I strongly recommend backing off on criticizing The Hunger Games trilogy. I’m a proud nerd. I will whip your ass @ Mario Kart & attempt to whip your ass @ Halo & I’ll definitely whip your ass @ Backgammon as I learned from the master; my father. I’ll also do all of this while explaining life lessons found in To Kill a Mockingbird, Edgar Allen Poe & Winnie the Pooh.
Just one of my nerdier moments
10. I'm crazy. General anxiety disorder is the technical term. I have panic attacks. So, when crap goes wrong, I'll freak out. I'll be terrified that everything is wrong. I'll try to pull you closer because I don't want to lose you. I do it to my friends too. Please don't pull away, even if that's your instinct, because it'll make me more afraid, as during these periods I'm as emotionally fragile as a baby bird. Just hold me & talk me through it & I'll go back to being the perfectly understanding girlfriend who doesn't get mad & allows you all of your space in about half an hour. If I am holding on too tightly, tell me. Say "MH, I get it, but chill the eff out because I feel strangled." I'll listen. But I can't do that if you don't tell me. I don't read minds & if you don't tell me what's wrong, I'll get more panicked trying to fix it. Tell me what's going on & we'll work on it together.
11. Sometimes I'm going to need you to be my rock. I'll be yours too. I'll be yours through everything. Just come to me & I'll make it okay. In fact, I'll prally be there more for you than me, because I generally bottle things up until I'm crazy, crying MH. Please find this endearing, or at least tolerable, because no one ever does.
12. I will never pretend to like your sports or your crappy music or that lame show you watch. But I’ll sit through them while making you food & I won’t ask stupid questions. I don’t expect you to like mine either. However, a healthy appreciation for pancakes is appreciated.
15. This may seem like a pretty big list, but I promise you it’s super simple, because I’ll love you more & better than a anyone else pretty much ever. I’ll treat you like you’re the best non-parenting thing that ever happened to me. I’ll gush about you. I’ll be your biggest fan. I’ll be your ally in life and we’ll be a team. I promise I’ll make loving me worth it by giving you everything you ever wanted. But if all else fails, I’m really pretty. That should help a little.
See? Super pretty!
I’m excited to see who you turn out to be. I hope we have an amazing love story, like some Nicholas Sparks level junk. I hope you’ll know how much I love you & how much I’ll value & respect you. I hope you know how much I’ll put up with to make you happy & I hope you’ll do the same for me. I hope you’ll know that I already think you’re amazing & I don’t even know who you are! I hope you’re wondering if you’ll ever meet a person just like me (or how to return to me, or turn friendship into love or if I’ll come back to your Wind Mobile kiosk). Like Katy Perry says, “I know you’re out there & you’re looking for me,” & I hope you come soon, because while I’m cool with single life, I kind of want to stare into your eyes & have my breath taken away.
A good friend of mine sent me this article last week & I’ve been reading it & rereading it for about a week.
I guess it hit home because it could have been written by…me (save for a few parts, as the article references adultery, which was not an issue & some of the character definitions were a little strong. But the jist of it).
For a year I struggled to get over the man I thought was so amazing, but everyone, even his best friends said was a psychopath & a jerk. I just recently wrote a sobbing piece because I love him so much that I would literally do anything for him & he wouldn’t do a damn thing for me. This came after he told my friend he was coming back for me after a year of healing. I couldn’t take the pain anymore. But now, I think I understand.
There was NOTHING I could have done.
He’s too damaged.
He’s too broken.
He’s a narcissist who uses women to feel happy & then crushes them to rebuild an ego broken long ago. He’s as bitter and broken as everyone said. I am very flawed, but this wasn’t me. I could have been PERFECT but it never would have been enough. Like my girlfriend said that night, “he’ll always just want more.”
So, I’m going to do what I was unable to do for so long. Not just because I had been conditioned by him to believe he’d come back, but because of all the things the article said. I feel better, knowing it took others just as long to heal. But now I’m going to find someone who loves me & wants to make me happy too. Because I deserve that.
I can’t promise follow through if he were in front of me, but I would never initiate a conversation if I saw him or even go over to say hi. No. But I’m not going to punish myself for his actions anymore. He proudly manipulated me. That’s him. Not me. It’s not my fault that he’s that person that destroys people. I gave him the best I had; not perfect, but I tried. By his own admission, he never put in a single ounce of effort. He was happy & then when he got spooked, he made the choice not to talk to me & push me away. HE chose to reach out right when I was moving on & then watch my heart break from the sidelines, boosting his ego. He didn’t have to put my friend in the middle, further straining my relationship with someone I’m wondering how much of a friend they were. He could have called, sent flowers with a card, come to my damn door. But no, he needed to feel loved & I was an easy target . He likely needs help (& I wanted to help him so badly), because my friend was right, he’s everything she said he was & I was just another notch, while he was the love of my life…for now. But like 80% of the population, he deflects it on to the women he crushes. Always them. Never him. I wasn’t perfect, but I was good to him. It’s all I wanted to be. I forgave all the jerk stuff. The number of times he walked out for no reason. Gave him a free pass to walk back in. I made mistakes, sometimes I needed reassurance. Sometimes I overreacted. Sometimes I pushed too hard to get to know him because I was so afraid that he’d turn out like the others & physically hurt me. I let my own past scare me & I would get afraid that he’d walk out again that I would try too damn hurt. But I was good to him & his child, better than I had been to any man. But, it’ll always need to be more. Even after all of this time & his claims he manipulated me for fun, etc. I still believed that he was the facade he created. But now I know they were right. He is everything they said & not worth the tears I cried.
So, I’ll meet someone & they’ll be the one. Or the one that sticks. But it doesn’t scare me anymore. Because he’ll never love anyone, not me, not himself, to evaluate why he continues to hit & run, only to look back & reach out & hurt me over & over. I used to believe that he loved me, & that he needs to work on himself because he leaves all of these people in his wake, & that I wanted to help him figure out why he did this to himself so I could give him the emotional support he needed, but I think maybe my friend is right & he’s too screwed up to love someone (or himself) & be happy. He’ll never love anyone, not me, not his child, not himself to admit that underneath all of the narcissism & bravado & vanity, he hates himself & still asks “what if” about every choice he makes. He punishes himself so much for past sins & women for the mistakes the one he loved first made & had he let me in, I would have helped him have the life that he wanted. But he’ll never admit that he hates himself & always hide behind his ego. Every woman will fail him, because he wants everything & nothing & complete control & to never have to make a choice to be second guessed & judged. He’ll never let someone close enough to him to let him see that he doesn’t need to push everyone away, he doesn’t need to play the jerk womanizer. He’ll always want perfection (while giving next to nothing) & no one is perfect. He’ll never see that someone loving him the way he wants isn’t “clingy” or “too invested” & he’ll always hold onto to the ghosts of the few women he did love & that hurt him (or that he hurt) & use that as an excuse for why he hurts women. He’ll always do this, to every woman & hide behind the masks & he’ll never truly be happy. Somehow, that is the saddest part of it all. Because he deserves to be happy. Not “happy with me,” but happy in life, even if his source of happiness was tearing me apart for sport, because while he may have lied, I didn’t. I only wanted him here if he wanted to be, because he loved me & because he knew that no matter what happened, I’d love him unconditionally & I’d do anything to make him happy. But if he didn’t want that, then I wanted him to find what he did want. I only believed it was me because he always found a way to talk about me, observe me. I never chased him, he sought me out, to the point where it strained my friendships because they felt in the middle. I let him go, just like he asked, but he made sure I knew he was around, just close enough to keep his hold but not enough to be here. I didn’t think it was a game; I thought he loved me & didn’t know what he wanted. I thought he was torn between doing the right thing & his own selfish ways. He always said I knew him better than he knew himself, so I thought if I just waited & lived my life, he’d sort through his desire to be the “family man” & “the man whore” & his love for me & my girls would win out in the end. I wanted to give him every chance to come back, finally let me in & I would love the person he truly was. I knew how hard it was for him & I was going to love him so much that he never had to feel like anything less than my Prince Charming. Had he ever shown up, he told me to tell him no, but I wouldn’t have. No, I would have told him that I love him & I understand. I will always understand & I’d hold him & tell him we made mistakes, but we’ll learn & get through it. I was going to give him whatever he needed to feel happy & comfortable & he’d finally have what he always wanted; someone who loved him enough to make him a priority, & look past all of the self sabotage, love him when he’s his worst & take the meanness & see the man he truly is; the vulnerable & sweet person who just wants someone to love them but fears losing them or letting them down, so he has to push them away, hurt them, break their heart so his will never get broken again. I wanted to show him that as he got closer, he wouldn’t get hurt, because I couldn’t hurt him, because it’s not in my nature. Even now, I couldn’t hurt him because I’m in love with him & want him to be happy. I could never have hurt him on purpose & had I by accident, I would have done anything I could to make it up to him. I was going to love him enough to make up for all the women that broke his heart. But, in the end, he’ll always pull away so he doesn’t get hurt again. Kill or be killed…& I got slaughtered. He lied; I didn’t. I meant what I said; I love him & only want the best for him, because he is a good man somewhere in there. The man I love was real. So, I’ll choose to remember the man I love, and not the man he showed me he really was and someday, I hope he becomes the man I saw, because he’s amazing & could change the world. He is the sweet, gentle man I fell in love with & he could be so much more than he allows himself to be, if he would heal the wounds that forced him to become what he is; a broken man who refuses to let anyone near him & pushes away everyone who truly loves him in favour of boosting his ego, not realizing that if he would let someone truly love him, he could be happy, the greatest ego boost of all.
I have a love/hate relationship with social media.
I have enough of it; Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & Tumblr (the last mainly exists for my 12yo to re-blog various photos from her fave shows). Most are controlled, with advanced privacy settings, except for Twitter, because apparently as a writer I need a social media footprint or something.
Then, my mom joined Twitter.
After that, I would have conversations with my mom about my various tweets:
Mom: “are you mad @ me? You tweeted that you’re mad.”
Me: No mother.
Mom: “Why did you tweet about pancakes?”
Me: Because I really like them mother.
Mom: “Why did you re-tweet that sappy thing & what’s a retweet & should I be doing it?”
Me: because I was bored on a bus & it sounded pretty & it’s…no, no you shouldn’t.
(Also, let’s all wave to my mother, who is now a huge fan of this blog. No, I’m not mad @ you. Enjoy Twitter)
But it does annoy me that we have regressed to the point where we think we understand someone’s life from 140 characters or who they follow on Twitter. WWE websites were abuzz when former Diva Maryse Ouellet unfollowed the shared account of current WWE Divas Brie & Nikki Bella. Gasp! What does this mean? That Ouellet is passive aggressive? That the Bella Twins & Ouellet had a falling out? Why is this news? Miley Cyrus unfollowed former fiancé Liam Hemsworth as reports of his serial adultery surfaced. Again, why is Twitter news?
I am not passive aggressive by any stretch of the imagination. I may not be confrontational, but if I’m mad, YOU WILL KNOW. If I want something, you’ll know, because I’ll get it (just ask the good people @ various record labels who told me I couldn’t talk to their artists. I’m like a pitbull. PS with the exception of two, I got every single artist I asked for. My current boss learned this when I said in my interview I was not leaving without that job), and if I have something to say, I’ll tell you. I hate when someone says “Oh hey, I saw on FB that you like pancakes!” (I’ll assume you’re new), because I miss conversations & I hate that social media is sort of replacing it. As a writer, I’m conflicted. I need to have a social media footprint to encourage readers, but I’m also tired of my friends & family using it to learn about me in lieu of talking to me. Not to mention the weird habit of creeping people, etc. Yuck.
Because it annoys me so , I decided to reject all forms of indirect communication. Passive aggressive Facebook statuses (if you do it, you’re unfriended. The end), subtweets, and third party message delivery service. No mas. I’m going to bring back the lost art of conversation if it kills me. Like I told the angry tween, if someone wants to talk to me , I am easily found. My address hasn’t changed (yet), my number either (yet) & thanks to Facebook, generally people know where I am when I’m out socially, which is almost never. Short of me boasting a neon sign that says “MH IS HERE” with an arrow pointing down, I am most definitely not Waldo. I also do not tolerate third party conversations that can get lost in translation. As my coworkers have learned, I won’t even discuss things over text, because they can be misconstrued. If someone wants to talk to me, be around me, be in my life, etc. then talk to me, be around me, etc. I firmly believe in direct contact, not playing telephone or leaving messages with a friend or whatever. I believe that if someone wants to be around me, no matter what’s happened , they will summon every ounce of courage in their body, swallow their pride & come find me, much like Gigi did a year ago. But I will not chase anyone. If you left my life for any reason, it’s up to you to walk back in. Much like Gigi learned, I’m not really a grudge holder & there is one person in this life that I will forgive absolutely everything. If you want to be around me, then it’s up to you to make that step, & if you choose to make that step, I’m pretty easy to find. Just ask…or appear. I’ll be found.
I must seem a titch hypocritical, writing about my annoyance with social media, which I will then blast over social media for you to read, but I don’t hate social media. I hate the misuse of it & when it replaces real human interaction. It’s like my thing with television; as an entertainment reporter, I obviously need it to makes my living, but I do not need to be a slave to it, which is why the girls & I lock up the phones, turn off the computer & TV twice a week & have technology free days where we go outside & play with toys & such. So, let’s stop using our social media accounts as our sole way to interact with people & actually talk to them. You’re likely missing all the important stuff that you can’t find in a status update or 140 characters.
I once wrote a blog post defending my doormat personality.
One of my oldest friends gave me crap. He told me that me continuing to be the big hearted doormat would leave me feeling empty & hollow with no direction. He was right.
Then, a Facebook friend (& the author of Coffee & Curse Words) started sharing all of the things he did to make his life better & honestly, he’s one of the happiest & most honest people I know.
I mentioned in passing that I envied him for being able to take control of his life & live it & he very succinctly reminded me that I could too, if I wanted to. After all, no one is really chained in one place. There are work arounds for everything. All we need to do is take control. He wrote a post about learning to be happy, & he mentioned putting yourself first…something I have NEVER done. All of my life I’ve lived for other people & I was left feeling under appreciated & broken & a simpering whiner, a poor role model for my daughters. I allowed it, because I thought being a doormat showed people I loved them. It might have, but it also showed people that I wasn’t an equal, to the point that people cut ties with me once I started demanding to be equal. People blamed their faults, insecurities & cruelty on me. It’s my fault you’re an asshole because I was insecure. It’s my fault you’re a liar because I might cry. I started to believe it; I was a toxic person, until my oldest friend reminded me that my life was much calmer, much more tranquil without the “friends” & how I seemed much more like my bad ass self. Maybe it wasn’t just me. Maybe they are jerks & I allow people to treat me like crap because I want so much to please people that I justify it to myself & everyone else. But what about MH? What happens to her? I think she’s pretty amazing & deserves a Helluva lot better than she’s been dealt, so she’s through taking crap.
I was going to start living & loving me.
I decided it was time for a change. Over the last few months, I started writing in a cathartic manner, letting out all of the things I held in. I often forget people read my blog, so I was writing for me, to get out all of the emotions I held onto. I’m glad that you could relate, but I was doing it for me.
Then, I thought about what I wanted for me. Yes, me. No more thinking about my friends, family, ex husband, potential love interests. ME. I came to three conclusions (well, four. But one isn’t an option, so I’m focusing on the three that are):
1. I want to work in media. I want to freelance for a new magazine, learn new skills & maybe in a different genre.
2. I don’t want to live in Windsor & haven’t for almost three years. The job market isn’t what I would want, the media opportunities are slim & my child is almost a teenager & is thinking of her future & I don’t think I would want her attending St. Clair College or the University of Windsor (before anyone jumps on me, I did graduate from St. Clair College…twice.)
3. I want my daughters to grow up in a city that is growing, thriving. Something that isn’t bound by industry or union struggles. A place that has growth.
So, when an opportunity arose to leave Windsor with my job & benefits intact, I jumped. I gave my landlord notice. I signed the dotted line & in 89 days, I will be in my new home in a new city.
This is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done & I’m thrilled. My house has been chosen by me, with no one’s approval. I didn’t ask a million people if they thought it was a good idea. I made a choice for my life & ran with it. I’m finally doing what I’ve wanted to do since I filed for divorce & that’s move away from Windsor & build my life & career in a new city with new opportunities. I’m showing my girls that you need to do what’s best for yourself, even if it’s not necessarily popular (which it hasn’t been). My friends don’t necessarily agree, but they are being supportive. I can still be a kind person, but like my friend said a year ago, I don’t need to sacrifice the best parts of me to please people. I need to be selfish & live my life on my terms for me.
So, the next 89 days will boast trick or treating, Christmas, purging a whole bunch of stuff we don’t need, donating, painting a hallway my children drew on & as 2013 comes to a close, the next chapter of my life begins & it’s one I’m excited to start.
Today is the third anniversary of ASH Multimedia! Holy crap! I can’t remember when I’ve ever stuck to a project this long, but I’m so glad that I did.
When I started this blog, I was an unhappily married mom who feared being replaced by the people I loved. Fast forward & I’m a single mom trying to balance her ever changing life, a dork & a dreamer & a girl on fire. I got a divorce, fell in love, got my heart broken, made friends, lost friends, went to college, nearly flunked out because I walked out of an exam, graduated anyway, & dealt with loss, euphoria & a few emotions in between. Guess what? I didn’t die. Some of it was wonderful, some of it hurt & some just plain pissed me off. But I didn’t die. I came out singed & battered, but stronger. For the first time since I was 19 years old, I like who I am. I like who I see in the mirror.
I’ve learned life lessons. Yes, I’m replaceable to people, but that’s okay. Chances are, so are they. I’ve learned that sometimes you’ll get crushed & it’ll take you months to feel okay, but you will. I learned that all feelings are valid, even if you don’t like or agree with them. I learned that I can forgive almost anything & love completely & even if I don’t like you very much or if you are no longer part of my life, I am capable of great love for you. I’ve learned that I’ll never be the perfect mom, friend or housekeeper, but as long as I’m doing my best for my girls & I, we will be okay. I’ve learned that while I don’t always put myself first, sometimes I have to so I don’t end up basing my self worth around what people think of me. I need to be my own best friend, great love & cheerleader. I’m a work in progress, but I’m getting there.
But I didn’t learn this from myself; I learned it from you. I once had an audience of one, now it’s an audience of hundreds & I’m not really sure why! You, who is reading this right now taught me these lessons, through your comments, emails & for whatever reason, your continued reading of ASH Multimedia & the ASH Life. I’m so happy that you read my blog, even if its to feel better about your life by comparison.
So, thanks for reading. Thanks for laughing @ my life for three years. I hope to continue to make you feel better about your life by comparison for a few more years to come.
I was talking to one of my oldest & dearest friends last night & I remembered why I love him so much.
He’s hilarious & wise, & will mix observations from an old soul (the happiest I’ve seen you since high school was last year, but only around one person, but now you’re happy all the time. You’re doing awesome right now. No more versions of the same girl where you had to be one person for your friends & one person for your job & yourself when you’re alone or with the ass.) to things that are bizarre (I only follow this one Twitter account because its sooooooo stupid). I regaled him with my latest misadventures (including the guy who told me he needed to meet my kids so Jesus could approve. Uhhhh…*runs*). He told me he hopes I meet someone great because I deserve to be happy.
He can’t wait for me to get my happily ever after, but I think I’m living it tbh. I’ve been living it for awhile. Sometimes I forget & let people control me again, but I like that my life is my terms, my way & there’s no one to tell me “no, you can’t,” or “you’re not strong enough,” “you need me.” Whatever.
It seems like everyone around me wants to meet someone who is going to provide me with that elusive “thing” that’s going to make me happier or something & I think it’s sweet, but I’m good. I’m particular about my life & I want someone or something that’s going to enrich me, make me the best possible person I can, help me grow. I long for people, not status & if its not an option, then I’ll be the love of my own life. There’s a reason I haven’t dated anyone seriously (or casually) & It’s totally ME. I know what I want & what I don’t & I am not willing to compromise that. Also, I’m self aware & have taken a bunch of psychology & sociology courses, so I’m aware of my flaws & read people well. Thanks to online dating, I see a lot of people talking about why they’re a catch (I’ve also rejected the entire internet). But that’s not me. I’m a socially awkward nerd. I’d rather do things in my awkward, self depreciating style & tell you why I am, in fact, not a catch. Take note, gentlemen, because here’s why you don’t want to go out with me.
1. I don’t care how hot you are, if you can’t spell, then I don’t want you. This is why online dating doesn’t work for me.
2. I’m aloof. Not so touchy feely, huggy, kissy, and we heard what I think about sex. I also don’t do feelings well, as we’ve established I’m apathetic to humanity. So, I likely won’t love you, so you should meet someone where you’ll get laid.
3. I won’t date you if you have kids. Sorry, but kids are serious business. No one meets my daughters, because the time they did, they got their hearts broken too & still pray for that person’s return. Sorry, but you’re not worth it. Adversely, if you place me in the caregiver role, I will care & when it’s removed, it will cripple me. Children are beautiful, fragile little people & THEY DON’T FORGET. My 3yo will tell you from a photo that we were @ the park with her best friend and they were hiding from her friend’s dad, who was pretending to be the monster. She’ll also tell you that someone she used to know promised her a football jersey for her birthday, so since it didn’t come last year, it’ll be here this year, because they’re gonna watch their team together, he promised. They don’t forget & you just hurt them when you don’t take your commitment to them seriously. I take that commitment to a child seriously & will see being placed in a caregiving role as the honour that it is. But I also am not willing to get hurt or lose another child I will grow to love, so no single dads.
4. I work too much. Between my job, getting to my job, raising my family, I’m busy. So, naturally I’m gonna add “freelancing” to my plate. If I’m not working 60 hours a week minimum, I’m not happy. My life is parenting & working. I’m a type A overachiever & my job will come before you. Sorry. Writing is not a “thing I do,” it’s my whole life. It was there before you, after you & my byline will mean more to me than any human being that doesn’t share my DNA.
5. I’m weird. Today I danced around my neighbourhood to Ellie Goulding. I skip @ work. I have a fascination with Pikachu & my necklace has a Triforce on it. I won’t compromise myself for anyone. Won’t pretend to like your sports, music, friends, etc. I am me & I am weird, a little goofy & I will act like an ass in public.
I do things like this
6. I hate the idea of long term commitment, matrimony, or anything of that sort. I get excited for like a month, and then I wanna stay put. You’ll never put a ring on it.
7. I’m either the super girl or the anti-girl. There is no in between.
8. I don’t know how to drive. I don’t really care to learn.
9. I cry A LOT. I also apologize a lot. My friend stated “people just need to learn to tell you to shut the f*** up, for real. Usually that stops the geeing.” Or tell me to save my scissors.
10. I talk too much. I’m slovenly. I talk too fast. Punctuality is not my forte. I hate Bruce Willis & George Clooney. My jokes aren’t funny. I do things on a whim. I can’t do simple multiplication but I can remind you of every word you’ve ever said to me. I generally know what you’re thinking before you do & I’m one step ahead of you & WILL call you on your crap. I use logic for everything. I’m stubborn & tenacious & will not quit on anything. I’m competitive to a fault. I will always get angry if I don’t have enough counter space. I have a loathing for the colour mustard yellow & I won’t miss you if you don’t talk to me for awhile, unless you are the most important adult in the world to me & even then…meh. I listen to the same song on repeat 40 times in a row, watch pro wrestling instead of soaps & may be dependent on caffeine. I’m easily distracted & kind of a ditz. I fully intend to change NONE of these things.
But I do have a pretty, marketable face
See guys? Not a catch. Not even close. You should prally steer clear. I’m a delightful mess & I’m cool with it, because so are you. So is everyone on Earth, even people who have their crap together. Anyone can claim to be awesome, especially someone with seven years of public relations experience. My job requires making people who suck sound awesome & generally they believe their own hype. I’d rather look at myself as what I am; a delightful, over emotional, mess who talks too much. If you still think I sound awesome, may God help your massochistic soul.
Life is about maintaining the ever elusive balance.
It feels like I’m always searching for that magical balance in life. When I was in school, I had to balance my education, my job, my girls & my house, & the house suffered. When I wasn’t working, the house looked great, but we were broke. Now I’m working full time & balancing that, the housework, the angry tween, the other two, & time for me to breathe.
The counsellor says the angry tween needs undivided attention, which means the other two feel slighted. So, there’s a balance I need to find. I’ve sort of balanced work & housework with my amazeballs chore hat. Meanwhile, it seems like I’m always going. I used to live for this life, but with the addition of counsellors, co-parenting & of course, the fact that my youngest is starting JK in two weeks, sometimes I just want to slow down & read books with them.
I often wonder; does anyone really find the balance, or are we always sort of looking for it, hoping to find it & having it for a minute before it needs to be rebalanced? I sometimes hope I’m not the only scatterbrained mom trying to make her life work on a day to day basis, because maybe that’s the balance.
An open letter to the parents who complained about the content of last night’s Ke$ha concert.
Dear parents,
Last night, my friends & I saw Ke$ha. I saw you there, swarming security, complaining about Ke$ha’s scantily clad dancers & profanity. You blamed Caesars for not providing you with family friendly entertainment. So, as a fellow parent I have one thing to say;
Shame on you.
Shame on you for taking to social media to complain about a concert your tween child had no business attending. Caesars had signs everywhere reminding people that while it was all ages, there could be explicit language, a warning that was hammered home when we bought our tickets. Shame on you for not doing your job as a parent & researching what kind of show Ke$ha puts on. Shame on you for demanding that a casino provide family friendly entertainment.
My 12 year old begged me to bring her to see Ke$ha & I said (wait for it) NO. I knew her show was not for her demographic & opted to keep her home. Just because Caesars Windsor sells tickets, doesn’t mean your little angel needs them.
Speaking of little angels, were yours among the Tweens in short shorts & fishnets, bikini tops or plunging mesh tops, cursing out everyone, waving the middle finger & referring to my friend (who said the shorts were too short) as “Free Willy” & screaming “you should f***ing kill yourself because you sasses me!” Because that happened & the girl who’s mouth that came out of couldn’t have been older than 13. Ke$ha may be provocative & her lyrics sexual, but her first statement on stage was “please be yourself & love each other for being yourselves.” I think you have bigger problems than Ke$ha saying she likes boobs & balls.
At the end of the day, you are a parent & you have an obligation to teach your children what is appropriate & what isn’t. You need to know what your children listen to. If you aren’t doing that, then you’re not parenting. Instead of complaining, why not educate your child that Ke$ha’s language & raunchy lyrics are not how you wish them to carry themselves. Explain why that is not appropriate speech. Parent them.
So, don’t blame Caesars or Ke$ha for putting on an inappropriate show, blame yourselves for not caring enough to take the five minutes to know if your kid should have been there in the first place.
I spend a lot of time on Facebook on the bus rides to & from work. During this time, people ask a lot of rhetorical questions. So, I decided to play guru & answer all of the rhetorical questions people post on Facebook! Hooray!
***Disclaimer: I am not smart nor qualified to dispense advice. The magic 8 ball is more qualified than me. Any taking of my knowledge & applying it to your life isn’t wise, as I’m not wise.***
Rhetorical question #1: why are people cruel?
Answer: because you let them. A lesson I have learned is that people will be as mean as you let them. Don’t allow it. Ignore it, be a lady (or gentleman) & do not dignify cruelty with a response. Simply remove what they intend to use as “ammo” & carry on like they do not exist. Also, people are cruelest to the one that loves them most. They know you’ll take it, absorb it, nurse that wound & continue to love them. It’s control. You can love someone more than life, but you don’t need to take their crap. Remember the words that my foster father gave me years ago: people are generally good & those that aren’t get what they deserve.
Rhetorical question #2: why do people Facebook creep/stalk their exes? It’s soooo annoying & I just want to punch my cousin in the face because she does it all of the time & then cries.
Rhetorical answer: because they are still in love with them. There are only two true emotions; love & indifference. Hate is just an angry version of love. If you care soooo much about what your ex is thinking that you creep them incessantly, you are still in love with them & any attempts to move forward are just attempts to replace what you left behind (The song Hurricane by Parachute addresses this well). Even the “I need to know they are thinking about/talking about me” proves you are in love with them, because that just screams that you need validation, that they think of you as much as you think of them. I guess the one upside to low self image is I just assume you’re not thinking about me and I need to do something to move on, so I just avoid. I will block you & everyone you know until I feel indifference. It’s likely the extreme opposite, but it makes me feel better. Also, don’t punch your cousin. Violence is never cool.
Rhetorical question #3: why do families hurt each other?
Rhetorical answer: because happy families that make sense & love each other every second only exist on TV. Every family has its moments where someone is a donger. Maybe they’re all dongers. MAYBE YOU’RE A DONGER. But we hold family to a higher expectation; stop that. All human interaction can be marred by human emotion. Blood doesn’t change that.
Rhetorical Question #4: WILL YOU PLEASE STOP SENDING ME GAME REQUESTS?!
Rhetorical answer: okay, this isn’t rhetorical, it just is. Go to settings & block the requests.
Rhetorical question #5: why are men/women such jerks?
Rhetorical answer: they’re not. Jerkdom is not defined by gender; it’s defined by jerks. Maybe that person dealt with so many other jerks who were hurt by previous jerks who were hurt by the original jerk. Think vampirism, only with jerks. Show kindness in the face of jerkdom. You’ll be surprised how people’s attitudes will change once you show them kindness.
Rhetorical question #6: why is dating so hard?
Rhetorical answer: chances are that you have unrealistic expectations. Obviously things like kids, sexual appetite, matrimony, are deal breakers, but if you’re looking for a supermodel when you aren’t or nitpicking about details that don’t matter, you’re choosing to make it hard. Life is about compromise & you need to figure out which details are set in stone & which ones aren’t & stop sending people packing because they didn’t have ocean green eyes with tanned skin. I know this, because I walk out of dates all of the time for dumb stuff just like that.
Rhetorical question #7: WHY WON’T MY CHILDREN BEHAVE?!
Rhetorical answer: I have no idea. But if you ever find the answer, share it with the rest of us. May God give you strength.
Rhetorical question #8: why are some people so awful? Like for reals, I wouldn’t do that to my BEST FRIEND & I can’t believe you would put that on Facebook. Not talking about any one person, but if I was, you know who you are.
Rhetorical answer: you did just put it on Facebook. Congrats, you got attention.
Rhetorical question #9: why does everything bad happen to meee? FML (sorry, can’t talk about it)
Rhetorical answer: see above.
There you have it, answers to random questions found on Facebook! I hope you got a cheap laugh & perhaps I’ll do it again sometime.
The Misadventures of MHC 