We Can Rebuild Her……..we think

International Love

No this isn’t a shout out to Pitbull, although his songs are great to workout to. Just wanted to say HELLO to the new visitors who stopped to check out my blog. Thank you France, Great Britain, Russia, Germany, China, Norway, Taiwan, New Zealand and Finland! I haven’t forgotten about you USA, Canada, Denmark, Australia, Colombia and the Netherlands. I still love you! It is pretty cool to see people from the countries of my ancestors enjoying my blog.

For the scoop on my genealogy check out this post –> DNA Road Maps

Now all I need is someone from Greece, Libya, Ukraine and Ireland to make my family circle complete! 🙂

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Woe Is Me

Every once in a while we have those moments where it feels like life is just too much to deal with. Woe is me this or that is making life difficult. I know I’ve had my share of “woe is me” times, especially during the past few months with my struggle to adjust to this back injury. I put on my sad face crown, slip into a black dress and have my own little pity party for a while. I’m not alone in this though. You’ve done it too at some point, or maybe you’re doing it right now. There’s nothing wrong with having a “woe is me” moment, it’s natural. When something bad happens you’re going to get bummed out or depressed for a bit until you find a way out of it. So put on your black duds and have your little pity party. But don’t let it become your life. There’s a difference between having a moment of “okay this sucks” and a full on “eff my life I’m always a victim.” Life isn’t perfect, life will never be perfect. A perfect life would be boring anyways. Believe me I’m not a fan of constantly dealing with BS, but that’s life. Random things are going to happen that you can’t control, and they won’t all be positive.

The problem starts when you let those random moments overwhelm you. You’re rushing down the street and someone  else who’s rushing down the street bumps into you and spills coffee all over you. It sucks but it was an accident. You put get out of the car and your cellphone that was sitting on your lap falls to the ground and your screen cracks. Okay that blows, but again accident. Unless you could’ve done something to prevent the act from happening there is absolutely no reason to go on and on about having a rough life if random accidents happen. It’s the people that let their life spiral out of control that I have an issue with.

I bet you know exactly what kind of people I mean before I even start describing them. Tim is always publicly posting on Facebook about how he can’t find a good job. Now Tim goes into interviews in dirty or wrinkled clothes, acts unprofessional or shows up a half hour late every time without bothering to let them know he’ll be late. Tim’s been fired from every job because of attitude problems and not getting his work done. So once again Tim starts whining about how “he had that interview locked down” and he can’t understand why they wouldn’t hire him. Tim says “people just don’t want to give him a chance” and “they are idiots for probably giving the job to some foreigner.” You see how Tim makes it sound like he’s a victim and no matter how hard he tries he just can’t catch a break. Never mind the fact that his first impression is a bad one because he shows up late, doesn’t bother to iron his clothes and make sure they’re clean, and he acts like a moron during the interview. Any reference check of previous employers is going to end up badly because they’ll talk about how lazy and unreliable he is. Plus it doesn’t help that he publicly bashes companies on Facebook. People seem to forget about that wonderful thing called Google. Anything and everything your name is attached to will show on if they search your name. So all those posts about how this company is stupid or that boss is a moron, yeah they’ll see that and it won’t help you look too good before you come in for that interview. Mmmhmm you know someone just like that!

There are so many people out there that don’t bother to fix the things in their life that they have control over. Don’t put things on Facebook you don’t feel like having to defend to a boss or possible employer. We’ve all met or known someone who just sits there and lets their life spin out of control. Letting their kids act a fool and not stepping in to be a parent, they just whine about it. Publicly posting negative things about wondering why people think they have a bad attitude. If you don’t take responsibility for the things you can control, don’t bother bitching after the fact. You’re the only one who can fix your life. If you’re waiting for someone else to do it for you…well you’ll be waiting forever. Get off your pitiful behind, put on your big girl/big boy panties and start changing things.



I was about to get in the elevator when this boy, couldn’t have been more than 15, pushed past me and got in ahead of me. The only reason he had room to get by me was because the man standing in front of the elevator moved back so I could go in. I went from thankful smile to pissed off wrinkly forehead and clenched jaw. The man by the elevator just shook his head “What happened to having respect?”

You know what, that’s a damn good question. Girls talk about anything and everything in public. From baby daddy issues to who gave them an STD to what shoes they want to buy. Guys having conversations where every other word is a curse word. I know it’s a versatile word but come on, you mean to tell me you can’t go five seconds without dropping the F-bomb?! It’s not just teens, it’s supposedly “grown ass adults” who don’t seem to know how to respect themselves let alone anyone else.

I blame their parents. I was 18 before I cursed in front of my mom. And I still ducked when I said it. There’s a time and a place for everything. But I’m not surprised since people these days are more concerned with picking apart a celebrity’s life than improving their own. When people think there’s nothing wrong with being 16 & Pregnant there’s no such thing as class, decency or respect.


Thank you xoxoxo!

So I decided to take a look at the nifty stats page WordPress has put together for us bloggers. And I’d just like to say one thing to all of you…..THANK YOU! When I started writing this I thought only a couple people would bother looking at it, let alone following it. But thanks to the love of the blogging universe I’ve had views from people in the USA, Canada, Denmark, Australia, Colombia and the Netherlands. Woohoo I’m international hahaha! I love love love you all for taking the time to read my thoughts and if you have a blog I’d love to read yours too, gotta pay it forward! Anyways, thank you again it makes me feel good to know people are interested in what I have to say. “See” you later xoxoxo.

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Success is Subjective (from the blog of Carly Sarah)

Success is Subjective.

A very great post about what success means these days. Take a look I’m sure you’ll find yourself nodding your head just like I did when I read it. I swiped this from one of my fellow bloggers Carly Sarah, you should check out the rest of her blog.

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Ooo that smell

Ahhh summertime! The sun is shining, flowers are blooming, birds are singing and….*sniff sniff*….What in the hell is that smell?!! Oh gawd that’s nasty!

Over the years I’ve had to adjust to one of the downsides of living in a big city. The random smells you encounter on your daily journey. The pungent aroma of pee and rotting garbage wafting out of an alleyway. That cloud of steam coming from the subway grates that smells like pee. And the worst offender of them all….RANDOM BODY ODOR. You can adjust to most things. I mean, common sense and experience tell you to hold your breath when you walk past an alleyway because you know it’s going to smell a bit funky. If the sidewalk isn’t too crowded you can sidestep sewer and subway grates to avoid stinky clouds. But there is no way to control the random funk that wafts up your nose when you’re around people. That smell so strong you can taste it! Now granted the only body odor you can control is your own and that of the people you love. During the winter everything is fine because we’re all layered up and you have no idea the person sitting next to you is stinky unless they take off their coat. But in the summertime, there’s no protection from other people’s funk.

Say you’re on the train and you’ve been walking out in the hot sun for an hour or so. You sit down and catch a whiff of what you believe are smelly armpits. Now if you’re not sure how well your deodorant holds up in the heat, or if you rushed out the house and forgot to put some on, you start to feel subconscious. At this point you need to make sure that smell isn’t coming from you. There are a few subtle techniques you can use to find out if you stink. The Stretch & Sniff: slowly stretch your arms above your head and tilt your nose toward one of your armpits, lean your head from side to side sniffing as you go. The Arm Scratch/Lint Pick: raise your arm in front of you and gently scratch, or if  you’re wearing long sleeves pretend to pick lint off your shirt, dip your head quickly and take a sniff. The Where Did I Put That: ladies pretend like you’re digging through your purse to find something, lean in and take a sniff, men if your shirt has a pocket pretend like you’re looking in it and then lean in and take a sniff (if you don’t have shirt pockets you can pretend to pick link off your chest and sniff). All of these wonderful techniques can be used to make sure you’re not the owner of that stench.

Too many times I’ve hopped on a train or bus and caught a whiff of someone’s stanky pits and had to do a self-check to make sure it’s not me…..it’s them! Now I believe that being subjected to someone else’s body odor is a form of assault. If you don’t believe in wearing deodorant/anti-antiperspirant then that’s your business, but please keep your arms down. What bothers me are the rude people that not only expose us to their stench, they feel the need to wave their arms and move about while they repeatedly assault us with their funky selves. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer to not have to shield my nose and spend the rest of my commute uncomfortable because of someone else. This is why I want to start carrying Febreeze in my purse and randomly spray these Odor Offenders. I’m not talking about a travel size bottle…no no no…I mean one of those giant ones you get in an economy pack 2 for 1 type of deal. If I could I’d put those Glade Stick ‘Ems on people as they pass by, but I’m not putting out that kind of money. Now I’m not saying I need to use the whole bottle, depending on their level of funk that will let me know how much spraying I need to do. The government has color coded threat levels….well let’s think of it in a three step area. LEVEL ONE: mild to moderate amount of funk….tolerable LEVEL TWO: okay you’re ripe but I’ve smelled worse  LEVEL THREE: DEAR GOD WHAT IS THAT SMELL! OH MY GOD DID SOMETHING DIE INSIDE OF YOU?! I THINK I JUST THREW UP A LITTLE IN MY MOUTH!

I can handle a Level One or Two, but once you stray into Level Three I’m at a point where I have to physically restrain myself from slapping the offender. I mean really, did that odor rot your nasal senses so that you can’t smell that. Those are the people who need to be sprayed. See I believe what they’re doing is a form of assault upon all of us. By spraying them it’s a form of self-defense because as I said I’m being assaulted by their odor! Of course I’ve had several friends remind me that there are laws against what I want to do. And I don’t look good in prison orange so I’ll continue to bob and weave and hope that one day….one distant day in the future….people will stop spreading their funk and keep it to themselves.



For More Like This—–> Are You Men, One of Those Mornings


Are you Men or are you….what…no you’re just mice..okay

There’s something about growing up in a city with a population of 1.5 million people that just  provides some interesting encounters on a daily, well hourly basis. You have your business owners, corporate execs, professionals, slackers, laborers, tourists, scam artists, families, politicians, unemployed and homeless people. I’m not talking about throughout the city either, most of the time you can run into one of each just walking in a 5 block radius. Now as diverse as this city is, I keep running into the same two types of people. Frankly, my daily routine would be much more peaceful if I could avoid them. But that’s what happens when you live in a big city, you see, hear and smell it all.

So, who are these two types of people? Ignorant “Men” and Ignorant “Women” (I use the quotation marks because these are the kinds of people that make us all look bad). Depending on where you live you’ve probably come across these people too, or you’ve at least seen them on TV. Okay, let’s start with the Ignorant “Men” who I will refer to as IMs. This is something that’s happened to me one too many times (if I didn’t like having a clean criminal record I’d probably be in jail by now because of how I wanted to respond):

IM: (taps me on the shoulder) Yo….what’s up ma?

Me: (ignore and stare straight ahead)

IM: (grabs arm) Yo ma lemme holla at chu.

Me: (pulls arm away and continues to ignore)

IM: (sucks teeth) Why you gotta ignore me? I was gonna say you nice lookin’ but neva mind you ugly.


Just like with the “n” word, an IM isn’t defined by one race. He can be Black, White, Hispanic it doesn’t matter. IMs come in all sizes, shapes, religions and colors. Most of the time you can spot an IM before he approaches you:

  • loud, obnoxious voice
  • excessive use of foul language
  • leers at every woman that moves past him
  • feels the need to touch pretty women he doesn’t know
  • becomes easily angered by rejection

Unfortunately I wasn’t aware the person next to me was an IM until well after he sat next to me. Sometimes the IM can go undetected, until he opens his mouth. Now let’s get something straight for future reference. I am a BIG fan of personal space. If I’m on a bus, train, or walking down the street I shouldn’t be touched by ANYONE. Unless you’re pulling me out of the way of an out of control car or a sudden explosion, don’t touch me. If I don’t know you don’t touch me. I don’t care if you think I’m pretty, or I remind you of your best friend’s girlfriend’s sister’s third cousin you haven’t seen in 10-20 years. Ask yourself the following: Do you know me? If the answer to this question is no, then don’t touch me. This applies to any femaleIf you want to look at her because you think she’s pretty, fine go ahead, we don’t care. You can even make comments to the buddy you’re hanging out with and talk about us once we’re gone. But at no point should you make physical contact with us!  It is rude and disrespectful to put your hands on someone else just because you want to hit on them. Now if someone you didn’t know put their hands on you then you’d be ready to knock them on the ground. So why is it strange when I react negatively to someone invading my personal space?All of a sudden I’ve gone from being that pretty woman you wanted to hit on to being the ugliest woman on the planet. And that’s if the IM feels like being nice. Most of the time I’m a bitch, ho, slut, trick or anything else that’s not my actual name. I am sick and tired of all these self-righteous, half-brained, ignorant IMs thinking it’s okay for them to put their hands on me. It is rude and disrespectful to put your hands on someone you don’t know. I try not to flip out and curse them out whenever this happens because these days you have no clue if they’re carrying a gun or not. I’d rather not end up in the morgue or the hospital, so I just ignore and walk away.

The second type of person ruining civilized society are the Ignorant “Women”, now referred to as IW. See example:

IW: Should I call him back?

Friend: I don’t know why you’re still with him he’s so mean to you.

IW: He’s not always mean to me. He just gets like that if I call when he’s with her.

Friend: You mean his wife? His wife that he has four children with.

IW: Yeah her! He told me last night that she’s an awful mom and a bad wife and he’s gonna leave her soon. He’s just waiting for the right time.

Friend: You seriously think he’s going to leave her? They’ve been married for how long now?

IW: 5 years. But he says he’s tired of dealing with her. He’s going to leave her and we’re going to get married.

Are you shaking your head right now because I am too. Oh IW IW when will you ever learn. He’s not going to leave her and you’re not going to marry him. He just says that to keep you from going anywhere. He gets to have his cake and eat it too. So while the IW fulfills his sexual needs, his dutiful wife takes care of the kids and the household. If he leaves then he’ll have to pay alimony and child support and figure out custody. Then of course his family will get on his case “How could you mess up your marriage like this” they’ll say, or  “What’s wrong with you” they’ll ask. He can’t keep it in his pants, that’s what’s wrong with him. But the IW blindly believes that somehow even though he’s cheating on his loving wife, she will somehow be the one woman he’s faithful to for the rest of his life. WRONG!You are just another notch on his belt. The IW isn’t just a home-wrecker, oh no there’s much more to her. The IW is that “woman” with loose morals and a complete disregard for other people’s feelings. She does what benefits her and her only. It doesn’t matter if she’s stabbing someone in the back, not caring for her children, or having sex with anything with a pulse. If it makes her happy that’s all that matters. The IW sees nothing wrong with talking about her sexual exploits, baby daddies or possible STD’s in public loud enough for everyone around her to hear. She doesn’t know you so she doesn’t care that you think she is classless and tacky. That’s how she rolls.

IMs and IWs of the world….oh boy where to start. There is nothing wrong with being an individual and wanting good things in life. But at some point you need to learn that there are things called dignity, grace, and tact. Have the dignity not to sleep with someone else’s husband. Have the dignity to use more than curse words when you’re speaking to someone else. Have the grace to speak about your private health matters in an area where people can’t tweet their friends about “the nasty chick” sitting across from them. Have the grace to admire someone from afar and leave it at that. Have the tact to KEEP YOUR LEGS CLOSED! Have the tact to keep your damn hands off me before I break them! But more importantly, GROW UP!


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When I Was Your Age

How many times have we heard our elders say “When I was your age”…blah blah blah. It’s like a requirement for one generation to compare itself to this new generation of upstarts. Everywhere I go I see people updating their Facebook status or tweeting about how much their life sucks. Kids today have hundreds of cable channels, DVRs in their rooms, smartphones in their back pockets and Wii remotes in their hands.

When I was a kid I didn’t have all these fancy toys. I didn’t have motion capture video game systems like the Wii and Xbox Kinect. I sat on the floor with my controller in hand trying to get Mario to save Princess Peach from King Koopa. Teens today have iPhones, I had a purple pager. That pager lasted a month before my mom found out and took it from me. There were no DVRs in my room, I had a TV with basic cable and a built in VCR.

Instead of wasting $20 on a CD with a couple good songs, we bought tapes that ended up breaking from being replayed so much. We spent the night gossiping with our best friends instead of posting it on Facebook. We didn’t have networks devoted to reality TV we had a network devoted to playing music videos. You didn’t buy books from your Kindle you went to the library and hoped someone didn’t already check your book out. Things were simpler before technology took over our lives. People were closer because we actually spent time together. What happened to the days when you passed a note to your crush that said “Do you like me check yes, no or maybe?” Maybe has turned into “it’s complicated.”

For More Like This—–> One Day You’ll Realize I’m Right


One day you’ll realize I’m right

When you’re little you might say or do something that causes your mom or dad to utter one little phrase that will stick in your head for the rest of your life. “One day you’ll realize I’m right.” That’s it. Short, simple but effective.

Me (as a kid): But why do I have to go to school?

Mom: Because you’ll need a good education if you want to have a great career.

Me: But I just wanna be a drummer!

Mom: That’s what you want right now but that’ll change when you get older.

Me: Nuh uh I’m gonna grow up and be the best drummer in the world!

Mom (sigh): One day you’ll realize I’m right.

Me (age 17): But I love him!

Mom: He’s not good enough for you and it’s not going to last. Trust me this relationship is going nowhere.

Me: You never know! Things will get better with us and then we’ll get married and have a family!

Mom: He’s not good enough for you. He’s never going to make you happy. I don’t like him. Trust me this is going nowhere.

Me: How do you know?!

Mom: Trust me I know!

Me: You’ll see! He’ll change!

Mom (sigh): He’s never going to change. You can’t make someone change unless they want to change. One day you’ll realize I’m right

From the time I was 3 years old up until I was 10 or 11 I wanted to be a drummer. Think it had something to do with Animal from The Muppet Show being my favorite character. At some point I decided I wanted to be a veterinarian, marine biologist, cop, firefighter, equestrian show jumper, archer, writer and then a restaurant owner. What can I say, I’ve never been big on sitting in an office.

That guy I was with my senior year of high school. Yeah that didn’t last. Things didn’t get better they just kept getting worse. He never changed, but I realized I had to get away from him.

There’s been so many times I’ve heard my mom’s voice in the back of my head saying “You finally realized I was right”


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