Turn it Up

Today, I’m gonna write a piece I call “the Ballad of Bayley.”

Last year, I told you about my teenage daughter’s love for Sasha Banks, today, it’s my younger two daughters and WWE Women’s Champion Bayley. 

The character of Bayley is arguably the most relatable character on TV. She’s a fan that got to live her dream. My 10 and 7 year old adore Bayley and everything she stands for. They once waited in the snow for six hours, in their hugger shirts and Bayley tassels just to catch a glimpse of their TV best friend (and hugs. Their goal in life is to get a hug from Bayley). My Twitter feed is dominated by photos of them in full Bayley cosplay. Bayley’s character was dismissed as being “Just Bayley.” She wasn’t special; just ordinary. But this mantra of “Just Bayley” was so important to her fan base of little girls. My own daughter is painfully shy. She struggles to make friends and when picked on for her small size and quiet demeanour (she’d rather read and do math than play sports), she decided she was “just her,” and that was enough. After all, Bayley was just Bayley and she became a champion. Being yourself is cool! While adults complained about Bayley’s character and direction, kids got the message; Bayley is herself and that’s enough, and if you just be yourself, you are enough. 


When Bayley made her way out at Wrestlemania 33, my two small girls squealed with joy, as their hero was finally living her dream. They sat in their Bayley gear and side ponytails, imitating her entrance. They cheered her on loudly from home, and big sister even joined in (after her beloved Sasha Banks got eliminated) & all three jumped up and down and cheered when Bayley retained her championship. They cried with her, their best friend won. My oldest, who wants to be a wrestler herself, said that she couldn’t wait for her moment like that, while the little two were so happy that their best friend Bayley won and when they got to school, they could talk about it with their girlfriends. 


Which brings me to why I adore this character so much. It isn’t just because she’s a good role model for my girls, or she’s relatable. It’s because I feel like she’s an overlooked but key reason why so many female fans are watching WWE. Yes, you have the Bella Twins, who introduced wrestling to the mainstream, and Sasha Banks and Charlotte, who made history, but Bayley is just as important, because she’s just Bayley. 


Just two years ago, my girls & I were among just a handful of women who watched WWE. This past October, we were among dozens of little girls with their side ponytails and tassels, screaming the lyrics to Bayley’s entrance song. While yes, there were other women who helped usher in a new era, the character of Bayley opened up a new world to little girls that had been previously excluded from. I remember when little MHC wanted to play wrestlers with her brother and his friends, with a Miss Elizabeth action figure in one hand and an Andre the Giant in the other and the boys laughing, saying girls can’t play. Teen MHC was mocked mercilessly for my HBK posters on my wall, while the boys said I only watched pay per views with them because I wanted them to like me. My own girls were picked on at live events by grown men because they chose Nikki Bella & AJ Lee shirts over male superstars. But the character of Bayley allowed little girls to feel included in a world they were originally banned from. The world of NXT, originally for die hard fans, became the world of Bayley. Each week Bayley brought her brightly coloured world to the ring, another little girl realized they belonged too.  Bayley allowed little girls to feel like they belonged, and she did it by being just Bayley. 


Representation matters. You can preach equality all you want, but unless you can see it, it’s not there. There are a great many women who helped pave the way for female fans to find role models, but for little girls, it took a best friend to give them a hug and tell them that they belonged anywhere they wanted to be and they deserved it by just being themselves. I sometimes think that we as adults get so caught up in our perception of promo quality or what we think that we miss the lesson; that it’s okay to just be you. Because of that, I think we don’t realize just how important or powerful a character like Bayley truly is. No gimmick, no catchphrase. She’s just like us and that’s just enough. 

Happier

Welp, another Crossfit Open in the books! 

LOOK AT THIS PERSONAL BEST. LOOK AT IT. LOOOOOOK

I can officially call myself the 26187 fittest person on the planet. That’s up 32K places on the leaderboard and I’m pretty proud of this. Last year, I had to miss the Open because I was sick af and the arthritis in my hips made everything unbearable. This year, I went in just wanting to get to know my gym family. I did, but I also pushed myself and remembered how strong and confident I can be. I’m feeling so inspired that I entered a crossfit competition designed for novice members. I may place last in everything, but it’ll be a fun day. It was so nice to have members suggest that I register because they wanted me to feel welcomed. So, I’ll bring the girls and crush some fitness (& then introduce them to coconut chips. Seriously, so good)!


This confidence has passed over to my work. I’m getting more confident when it comes to pitching stories (and out of the box ideas at work). I’ve always been a believer that no one will see the value in who you are if you don’t. So, I decided to take control of my career. It’s been working so far, as most of my kooky ideas have been successful. The store is growing. The team is successful. When I’m not here, I’m just writing for magazines. There is no downtime. When there is, it’s for the girls and crossfit. This is my life and it’s rad. 


I know when I last posted, I was struggling with how to tow the line & be true to myself. It’s hard when people tell you that being yourself somehow makes them look bad or detracts from their role. But I’ve realized after a chat with one of my bestest friends in this city that one person cannot dim someone else by encouraging them, or by trying to elevate others. You can only dim a person’s light by holding them back. I’ve been with people who hold people back. I’ve been with people who credited themselves with my cover stories, people who credited the respect I received from coworkers to “they must really want to make me happy at work.” I’ve been around friends who wanted to feed negativity under the guise of “telling it like it is.” One doesn’t dim by suggesting improvements for their workplace or being bubbly. I don’t deny that I’m a difficult human being with my stubborn streak, passionate opinions, and fiery temper. I’m sure my scatterbrained thought process & random singing in public places is frustrating to the super serious types out there, but I’d rather be unapologetically myself before I become someone else. 

Even though I’m a grown up, I still struggle with self esteem just like everyone else. Some days, when it seems like people don’t like you, just because you’re you, it can feel frustrating. You’ll doubt yourself and think you can’t. My friends and family can tell me I’m awesome, but I’ve got to believe it. It’s up to me to build myself up, not those around me. Too many people think if they have a relationship, they have a car, if they have the right job; they’ll be happy. But the truth is that they’re settling for unhappy relationships, unhealthy relationships, and unhealthy senses of self. My happiness is an inside job. So, when I start wondering if I’m enough, it’s my job to look self doubt in the face and give it a sassy ass stare down. 

But I don’t mind moments of self doubt. They’re good reflectors. And each week at the Crossfit Open, I would push myself a little harder. And through that I reminded myself that I am totally capable of being super bad ass. No one was lifting those weights or doing those walking lunges for me. I did it, on my own. And I used that feeling of accomplishment in that part of my life to help with my emotional strength. This paid off at work, with my writing, and even building my interpersonal relationships. 

So, don’t feel badly if you spend a couple of days thinking you suck and can’t do it. Just find whatever it is that you use to help you find your mojo. I use crossfit. A dear friend of mine hikes. My best friend hits the gym. Another friend paints. But find the thing that brings out your “youness” and embrace yourself, with every difficult part of you, flaw, and imperfection. 

Save Myself

I’ve always had a big personality. I’m pretty extroverted. I talk A LOT. I have a million ideas that I think are amazing all of the time. I want to share them and help others and see everyone succeed. It’s kind of my thing. 

However, I get that it doesn’t work for everyone. I’ve dated guys who’ve told me to tone it down. Talk less. Be more introverted. Behave. I remember one of my last shifts at my old job staring at the floor, afraid to make eye contact with anyone or engage in conversation because I needed to obey so a man would talk to me again. I would go home and sob myself to sleep because I wasn’t myself. All of the things that make me who I am were being chipped away to please a person who didn’t love me anyway. A few years ago, I had a good friend who told me that I intentionally dominated the room. I didn’t really understand. I don’t think I do; I just act like myself and I don’t always realize that I’m running people over with my “me-ness.”

But I accepted that being a big personality means accepting certain things. I’ll never have a lot of friends. I always scare people off. I’ll never have a mate. No man wants a workaholic woman who wants to succeed at twelve things and raise a family and Crossfit and spend her life pitching stories and creating ways to grow her business and never, EVER stops talking. I tried for YEARS to fix it. If I could just stop talking so damn much, take a backseat, stop being so open and happy. Change into the contrite woman who smiles and nods and obeys and doesn’t take over the room with her thoughts and ideas. Then I’d meet a guy. Then I’d have more friends. But I realized I’d never be happy. I’m the difficult woman. The opinionated, headstrong, smart ass. I need to be myself. If I am, I’ll attract the right friends, the right lover. Maybe I’ll always be alone and kind of isolated, but at least I’m being myself. I get that my personality is almost impossible to love, but I love it & maybe that’s enough. 


But at work, that was where I always felt at home. I’m a salesperson; big personalities are encouraged. My boss back home encouraged my zany ideas, my over talkative nature. But here, it’s not like that. I can always tell that my “me-ness” is not an asset. It’s a liability. I’m not the right company material. My results are, but me, I am not. But I pretend it’s okay, I love my job. No one needs to like me, just respect me. But today, I was gently told that my overbearing personality detracts from others. I dominate. And for the first time in a long time, I began to think that maybe being myself isn’t the best thing at all. Maybe I need to change into someone quieter. Someone less headstrong. Someone less chatty. Less of a temper. Someone not like me. Maybe I am just too much and my ideas are too much and I talk just too damn much and no one can be around me for long periods of time because I am too much. Maybe I just need to stop marching to my drum and stop. Stop challenging. Stop talking. Stop trying to think outside of the box. Accept the box. 


I’ve never really felt like being me was a liability, but maybe it is. Maybe it’s okay to tone down my personality and just not be so much. Maybe then I’ll make more friends. Maybe then I’ll find a mate because I’m not so over the top. Isn’t that what women are supposed to want? Maybe I’m just the problem. So, how to correct and evolve into someone a little less dominant. A little less extroverted. A little less…me. 

I’m not really sure. But maybe I can’t keep bucking the status quo & taking pride that I don’t fit in. 

Or…maybe that is complete bullshit. 

Maybe my “me-mess” will be a liability. Maybe I’ll die alone with my cat and no husband because I’m too much for a person to deal with. Maybe I can learn to step back and find a balance, but I’m always going to be the person that talks too much and gets way too excited, cares too much and rambles on about the latest zany idea that I think is super amazing. But I can’t be me unless I’m me. 


So, my goal is to find the balance between being myself and rowing the line. Embracing who I am while also listening to feedback. And I won’t throw a god damn pity party when another person reminds me that I’m just too much. Yes, yes I am. But to my good friends, my girls, and most of my coworkers, MHC is just enough. But the most important thing is that I think I’m just enough, and I like who I see in the mirror. Because that’s the person I truly have to answer to. 

Something Just Like This

It’s time for another round of “Things that Really Grind my Gears.”

Today’s topic; why people who hack phones and steal photos are disgusting people. Also, if you look at them, you’re fucking gross too. 

This week, a round of personal and private photos and videos made by WWE superstar Paige hit the internet. These were four years old. She was 19. But most importantly, they were hers. I will not link those photos. They are none of my business. I haven’t looked at them. Why? They’re none of my business. I had the privilege of meeting Paige a few years ago outside of a WWE live event. She was sweet and lovely to my 10 year old daughter. She told her they were best friends and gave her a hug. My daughter has never forgotten that day and tells me all of the time that she can’t wait for her best friend Paige to feel better and get back into the ring to win championships. Maybe it’s because I met her and saw a sweet young woman who adored her little fans that this whole thing upsets me more than usual. I don’t know her, but I caught a glimpse of Saraya Jade Bevis (Paige’s real name) that day and she was the sweetest and most authentic human being. She didn’t deserve this. No human being deserves to be violated and humiliated like this. I hope she has the support of family and friends and her fiancé & that the legal action she is pursuing protects her. 


Then came the memes. People sending the photos to Paige’s mom, Saraya Knight, her fiancé, & the wife of one of the men in the video. Then jokes were made. After all, this is just so funny, right? It’s not funny. It’s awful. If you follow me on social media and share this garbage, please unfollow. There is nothing funny about kicking someone while they’re down. 

The next day, WWE Superstar Summer Rae was threatened with badly photoshopped “leaks,” which forced her to respond. Apparently it wasn’t bad enough to humiliate one person; we needed to invent pretend photos to feel powerful and tear down a woman. 


 The women and men involved in these, real or doctored, are victims of a crime. They’ve been humiliated (or someone has tried to humiliate them). To the person who does this, you are fucking disgusting. If you are distributing them, you are just as bad as the people who stole them. 

Fun fact; I work with cell phones. I sell them for a living. I troubleshoot them when they get messed up. I see your search history and your photos. Glass houses friends. I see a lot of people claiming that they should know better, they shouldn’t take these photos. That this is what you get. Wait. What? Nope. That’s not how it works. That’s like me saying that if you bought a house and then got robbed, that you should have known better than to buy nice stuff. You did not have permission to see Paige naked. You didn’t have permission to see Summer Rae naked. Doctoring photos to pretend you saw Summer Rae naked is the equivalent of lying in high school about sleeping with a girl that said no. Every time you view these personal photos, or in the case of Summer Rae, pretend photos, you are just as bad as those who stole them. You are actively participating in the degredation of a human being in the attempt to humiliate them. When you post memes or jokes about the situation, you are basically saying that you’re cool with a gross invasion of someone’s privacy, or lying about another human being for your amusement. It’s wrong & gross. I’m pretty sure if the contents of your phone were dumped online, or those personal things you’ve sent your partner, you wouldn’t like it. So why would you be okay with it because it’s a celebrity? They’re humans, not trained zoo animals who owe you their dignity. 

When I go off on my soapbox about this (like I did a few years ago when this happened to Jennifer Lawrence), creeps always tell me that if a male celebrity’s nudes leaked, I’d be all over it. Well, you would be wrong. When WWE Superstar (& my celebrity crush) Seth Rollins’s private photos hit the internet, I made it a point not to look at them. Why? Because Seth Rollins didn’t want me to see him naked. Those photos were for his girlfriend, not me. I don’t want to participate in the degredation of a man who’s career I enjoy watching on TV. So, I refrained. It’s not that hard. It’s just called being a decent human. 


So, to my fellow browsers of the internet, I implore you; don’t be a douchebag. Stop making fake nude photos to attempt to humiliate someone. Stop distributing personal and private photos to humiliate somebody. Stop making memes to make light of the fact that someone was violated and the victim of a crime. Stop sending the photos to the victim’s mom, fiancé, etc. Stop throwing stones to shame these victims while hoping no one ever checks your glass house. Just be a decent human being. It’s not even hard. Before you look, think of the most humiliating moment of your life. Now, imagine if you’d want the entire world to be a part of that. 

I know it’s probably really tempting to go see a celebrity you think is attractive naked, but had they wanted you to see them naked; they’d have posed nude publicly. We need to stop acting like we own famous people and have the rights to their bodies, their privacy, their dignity, even their most personal moments. Everyone deserves dignity and control over their body. Stop taking it away from them. Don’t look; log off. 

Eraser

Oh hey. I swear I didn’t die. 

I think I fell into a rabbit hole. I took my staycation to unwind and recharge…and save the magical land of Hyrule from Calamity Ganon. I also dyed my hair rose gold to match my phone. That’s a thing that I did. 


But mostly, I’ve reached a point in my life where I may be too busy. I’m currently working on several articles, including one highlighting an upcoming event for the city, which is really cool. I’m integrating into my new store (with the coolest staff EVER). I’m a hands on single mom. I’m crossfitting. I’m juggling a lot of stuff, and most of it actually pays me. So, the writing that pays me takes  priority to the writing that does not & my blog fell off of the map a little bit. Of course, so did my social media. So did anything that wasn’t journalism, my kids, my store, and crossfit…or my Nintendo Switch. I’m very focused on my goals and in order to achieve them, everything else needs to take a backseat. Sorry not sorry. 

I’ve built my life to my perfect specifications. My writing career is coming along wonderfully. My phone career is getting there. When I’m not at work, I’m doing interviews and writing. Even on weekends. Literally every day of my life involved pitching, researching, writing articles. My team and my colleagues respect me & that means the world to me. My kids are doing well. I finally found a gym where I’m happy and I’m not willing to let anything upset the apple cart. This means sometimes things get neglected because I’m simply too busy, like my blog, or that hockey game with my coworkers, or that date with the guy who works at my old mall. My girlfriends tell me that I’ll never find a mate because I never put the guys I’ve dated recently first. I don’t. In fact, the last guy I dated back in the fall was so low on my totem pole that it’s why it didn’t work out. But the kids, my career, and fitness all come first. Everyone and everything else needs to take a backseat. I’m not going to expand my portfolio, help my store reach target, or hit a 200lbs back squat if I’m putting things or people who don’t matter, or can wait, ahead of it. Truthfully, I’ve never really been “wife” material. I’m not the “surrender my identity and goals at the altar of a man to be Mrs. Not my last name.” I want to be more. I want to be a role model to my girls. I want to be someone that achieves her goals and is changes the world in some way. I want to be seen as someone who is strong, brave, tenacious, and not someone who settles. As a wise woman once said, “I want so much more than some provincial life.” I have goals and I’m not going to waste my time on frivolous things when I could focus my energy on achieving those goals. 


I’m sure that I sound like a super bitch. Truthfully, I don’t care. I’m finally putting all of the pieces together to build the life that I want for myself and I’m not willing to settle for substandard or mediocre; whether it’s people or performance. I’m not going to let anyone in my life unless they are amazing. I’m not going to devote my time to any projects unless I think that I can do an incredible job. I’ve stretched myself pretty thin, so I’ve prioritized my life to make sure that the things that matter take precedence over stuff that can wait, because my kids, my goals, they cannot wait. 


But there’s nothing more exciting than working towards your dreams. I am so in love with my life. I’m getting everything I’ve ever wanted, I have the best family, I have made the most supportive friends. It’s awesome. I’m so happy. So, while I may fall down the rabbit hole sometimes, you can still find me on Twitter if you need to know what’s up with me. Chances are, I’ll be overjoyed with life while continuing to build it the way I want it. 

Save the Hero

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. 

I also learned that I am literally the only person who loves the Vaudevillians.

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. 

Shape of You

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. 

Everything Is Easy

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.”


(If this has never happened to you, then I’m sorry, but what kind of freak are you, just falling asleep the minute you go to bed without incident. Teach me your ways)

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. 

What my best friend and I talk about
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. 

My friends are adorbs
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. 

Try Everything

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. 



Someone in St. Albert kept stealing my pink pen, so my manager gave me a bunch for my new store to make me happy. It was so silly, but it made me feel valued.



My 9yo told us her bunny hung out with PM Trudeau at Pride. We helped her out when no one believed her



I am the boss
Oh nothing. Just an article published by Postmedia
 

That time I reviewed a bunch of plays like a cool kid



Click the photo to read the article.


All hail Crossfit Jesus
Erica is always far away, but she is my human, so here’s an exerpt from our Snapchats





TBooth pro tip. Blue tastes like shit.


Still my favourite

That time Nikki Bella & I casually discussed feminism on Twitter. No big.

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. 


*actually not zany. Largely boring 

Goodness Gracious 

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). 


Today’s topic: why douchebag people need to stop being douchebags about other people’s kids. 

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.