So many of us miss the point. During the holidays especially. We are so busy looking for the joy that we are unable to see it in who we are, or what we have. Giving is a way of mirrororing back to us… everything that is missing.
But here is the thing. Life is meant to be lived. One day at a time. Even though many of us live in the past, too much time is spent crying in our beer over what is lost. And then there are those who are constantly on a search for something better, something greater… always something we don’t have all the while missing the whole point.
Life cannot be lived searching for meaning, life is not life if we are constantly chasing the proverbial carrot.
We are meant to learn from the past. Hindsight is after all, 20/20. Maybe there are things that we can see now, that we were unable to see then. But the past is just that… the past. Don’t waste any more of your today’s longing after something that once was.
Besides, if you don't live life in the present, how can you ever expect to see the manifestation of your dream for a future? Is living life on auto-pilot is enough?
Time passes even as we are forever searching for that better than, brighter and shinier than…
a desire for more only points out the larger-then-than-gap that lies between what we desire and what we have; an ever-widening gap because we can never have...
enough.
We can hold hope for the future by setting clear intentions for our desires... planning is good, but not at the expense of losing everything that is available in the moment.
Live is meant to be lived in the present. It's a journey. And the meaning is in exactly that... the journey... because it’s through every step, each time we fall, and through every accomplishment that we grow and thrive. It’s great feeling to plan things when you allow yourself to grow and flourish through every step of realizing your dreams... with real eyes.
In the moment is the only place that you truly have the potential to dream, giving yourself a place to build from, and a place to start. You can’t go from A-Z, without passing through the B’s, and the C’s, and even a few X, Y’s and Z or two.
There is no prize… nor an ending... only the present moment unfolding with all of the potential for everything that life has to offer, and yet as we speak, that is already gone… so what are you waiting for?
Take a bite!
Friday, December 3, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
The Meaning of Life, a Photo and a Smile
Earlier today I was walking by a nearby school. There was a little girl, maybe about 7 years old. She was severely handicapped. She was being lowered in her wheelchair from the bus that just picked her up for school.
The little girl was met by two of her teachers. She was grinning from ear-to-ear with the most radiant smile that really touched me. In her hand was a paper that had a copy of two pictures from Halloween. The grin was from her joy of her pictures and her pride at being able to share them with her teacher.
That one moment touched me, nearly to tears, in fact, I was choking back the tears. I wanted to go over to the little girl and let her share her picture with me too but honestly I don’t know what the scenario was and I certainly didn’t want to scare her. (although something said to me that she would have been just as proud showing off her Halloween picture to me.
So instead of approaching the little girl, I decided to share my moment here. See this is the reason of why we are all here. And that little girl showed me that with her radiant smile. We are all here to love, to be joyful. and to share that joy with others.
Sometimes it is funny to me that we, the adults, are not always the ones teaching our children; but often, it is them... teaching us. They constantly remind us to love, to laugh, to smile, and to let go and simply enjoy the moment.
The little girl was met by two of her teachers. She was grinning from ear-to-ear with the most radiant smile that really touched me. In her hand was a paper that had a copy of two pictures from Halloween. The grin was from her joy of her pictures and her pride at being able to share them with her teacher.
That one moment touched me, nearly to tears, in fact, I was choking back the tears. I wanted to go over to the little girl and let her share her picture with me too but honestly I don’t know what the scenario was and I certainly didn’t want to scare her. (although something said to me that she would have been just as proud showing off her Halloween picture to me.
So instead of approaching the little girl, I decided to share my moment here. See this is the reason of why we are all here. And that little girl showed me that with her radiant smile. We are all here to love, to be joyful. and to share that joy with others.
Sometimes it is funny to me that we, the adults, are not always the ones teaching our children; but often, it is them... teaching us. They constantly remind us to love, to laugh, to smile, and to let go and simply enjoy the moment.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Transparency... is the New Black!
We are a day away from the mid-term elections and candidates are scrambling to get their voices heard. I saw a gentleman who was running for my local school board earlier when I was dropping off the chitlins. He was kissing babies and shaking hands (oblivious to the fact that he was majorly messing with our school’s very strict morning keep-your-ass-movin’ drop off line.
Writing campaign statements is a good way to let people know what the candidates stand for. No matter what party is talking, nor the matter they are talking about, have you noticed that they are all basically writing the same speeches.
Hope and change were the buzzwords from the last presidential election, words that bought President Obama a First Class ticket into the Oval Office no less, but it seems this election we are going in a new direction altogether. We are scrapping HOPE for TEA and CHANGE is still one of the major buzzwords because no one is happy and we are changing parties literally like we are taking out the garbage. We have done a complete flip-flop in the past two years and I don’t think people know which direction to turn in next. What they do know is that they want CHANGE!
We don’t even care about HOPE anymore. Hope is just something you do to try and make your circumstances look a little better. We want our circumstances to be different. VERY different and the only way to conquer that goal is CHANGE.
We are tired of the same ‘ol, same ‘ol... so instead of saying, “I want to focus on jobs, immigration, housing and foreclosures, your child’s education, etc…” please say, “this is HOW I am going to get you a job, and this PLAN is going to help you keep your home.”
Instead we get, “Yea, I know that children are our future and their education is important BUT, we can’t afford it. We can’t afford streets and jobs," but we can pay for the politicians to meet me at my child’s bus stop, begging for my vote… all candidates lining their speeches with the new buzz word. Transparency.
Transparency is the new black... or pink. Whatever the recent flavor-of-the-month is. Does the meaning of transparency will hold any merit? Perhaps holding its own weight in gold? Or green in Robert Rizzo, City of Bell’s now-in-jail City Manager's case. Green and gold are the colors of his word, tran$parency. Whatever it takes to get elected we will say it. We are transparent… only you really can’t see through us. You know that right?
What happens once they get into office? Well, it’s really the most amazing thing to watch as they begin to change colors, like a chameleon; they seem to camouflage in with the many colors of corporate logos and our most elite special interests and political action committees.
Our newbies get to carry around their new BackPAC’s … the wishes and desires for the wealthy and elite. Just look at our own Governor, Arnie. After all, he loves children and they sure do love Arnold, right? At least they did in Kindergarten Cop. You ever wonder why it’s so easy for Actors to become elected officials? They sure know how to put on a good show.
Here is a fun fact. Speechwriters and PR people watch how people reacted to certain buzzwords and then when they needed to get public interests back, they thrown in the buzzwords- safety, security, taxes. During the Ronald Reagan era, whenever he was going to get a bad approval on something, he just threw out those magic words.
President Reagan is meeting with so-and-so today to discuss our nation’s safety against terrorist’s strikes that have been feared …
So does that mean that after the election everything is going to change? Naaa, prolly not. Everything in the US is going to flip-flop all again. Dunno if we can withstand all the transparency coming our way from politics.
I think the smartest thing to do is something similar to the TEA parties (minus PALIN and all her crackpot gun-toting extremists) and literally take the keys back from the idiot’s carving out our nation’s future in an ice sculpture of the Statue of Liberty made of primarily of melted ice.
Oh and transparency. What’s the worst that can happen? We will begin to see their true colors?
The smart thing to do is to fire everyone and let’s elect George Clooney. He can rule all the way from Italy and it's the same difference. Only he is way better to look at!
Writing campaign statements is a good way to let people know what the candidates stand for. No matter what party is talking, nor the matter they are talking about, have you noticed that they are all basically writing the same speeches.
Hope and change were the buzzwords from the last presidential election, words that bought President Obama a First Class ticket into the Oval Office no less, but it seems this election we are going in a new direction altogether. We are scrapping HOPE for TEA and CHANGE is still one of the major buzzwords because no one is happy and we are changing parties literally like we are taking out the garbage. We have done a complete flip-flop in the past two years and I don’t think people know which direction to turn in next. What they do know is that they want CHANGE!
We don’t even care about HOPE anymore. Hope is just something you do to try and make your circumstances look a little better. We want our circumstances to be different. VERY different and the only way to conquer that goal is CHANGE.
We are tired of the same ‘ol, same ‘ol... so instead of saying, “I want to focus on jobs, immigration, housing and foreclosures, your child’s education, etc…” please say, “this is HOW I am going to get you a job, and this PLAN is going to help you keep your home.”
Instead we get, “Yea, I know that children are our future and their education is important BUT, we can’t afford it. We can’t afford streets and jobs," but we can pay for the politicians to meet me at my child’s bus stop, begging for my vote… all candidates lining their speeches with the new buzz word. Transparency.
Transparency is the new black... or pink. Whatever the recent flavor-of-the-month is. Does the meaning of transparency will hold any merit? Perhaps holding its own weight in gold? Or green in Robert Rizzo, City of Bell’s now-in-jail City Manager's case. Green and gold are the colors of his word, tran$parency. Whatever it takes to get elected we will say it. We are transparent… only you really can’t see through us. You know that right?
What happens once they get into office? Well, it’s really the most amazing thing to watch as they begin to change colors, like a chameleon; they seem to camouflage in with the many colors of corporate logos and our most elite special interests and political action committees.
Our newbies get to carry around their new BackPAC’s … the wishes and desires for the wealthy and elite. Just look at our own Governor, Arnie. After all, he loves children and they sure do love Arnold, right? At least they did in Kindergarten Cop. You ever wonder why it’s so easy for Actors to become elected officials? They sure know how to put on a good show.
Here is a fun fact. Speechwriters and PR people watch how people reacted to certain buzzwords and then when they needed to get public interests back, they thrown in the buzzwords- safety, security, taxes. During the Ronald Reagan era, whenever he was going to get a bad approval on something, he just threw out those magic words.
President Reagan is meeting with so-and-so today to discuss our nation’s safety against terrorist’s strikes that have been feared …
So does that mean that after the election everything is going to change? Naaa, prolly not. Everything in the US is going to flip-flop all again. Dunno if we can withstand all the transparency coming our way from politics.
I think the smartest thing to do is something similar to the TEA parties (minus PALIN and all her crackpot gun-toting extremists) and literally take the keys back from the idiot’s carving out our nation’s future in an ice sculpture of the Statue of Liberty made of primarily of melted ice.
Oh and transparency. What’s the worst that can happen? We will begin to see their true colors?
HAHAHAHA! I should be a comedian!
The smart thing to do is to fire everyone and let’s elect George Clooney. He can rule all the way from Italy and it's the same difference. Only he is way better to look at! Good luck to everyone trying to muddy through all of the varying shades of transparency as you head to the polls tomorrow. I'll be there. I will be the one holding the sign, "Clooney 4 Pres."
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Operation: Black Hole
I read in a news story online that moms didn’t like the idea of children getting all that candy for Halloween.
Someone got the idea to ship it overseas to the guys in Iraq. What a great idea and apparently so because now it’s the thing to do. Candy donations are up in the tens of thousands and growing.
Say it with me…Awwwww wasn’t that nice?
So I have a question.
If it’s not ok for the kids to get the candy, then why are we shipping it to the servicemen? I mean if it’s bad for teeth, it’s bad for teeth, right? And I don’t think these guys exactly have Dr. Warner, DDS handy, now do they?
Well reading on, I guess someone else asked that same question too because the answer was right in the article. Someone asked, “hey, if it’s bad for the kids, isn’t it bad for the servicemen, too?”
Seriously, like you had to ask? And yet, right there in the article… was the answer …
Oh yea, we give it to the Iraqi children.
DUH?!
Is this a new form of weapons of mass destruction??... on teeth?
Someone got the idea to ship it overseas to the guys in Iraq. What a great idea and apparently so because now it’s the thing to do. Candy donations are up in the tens of thousands and growing.
Say it with me…Awwwww wasn’t that nice?
So I have a question.
If it’s not ok for the kids to get the candy, then why are we shipping it to the servicemen? I mean if it’s bad for teeth, it’s bad for teeth, right? And I don’t think these guys exactly have Dr. Warner, DDS handy, now do they?
Well reading on, I guess someone else asked that same question too because the answer was right in the article. Someone asked, “hey, if it’s bad for the kids, isn’t it bad for the servicemen, too?”
Seriously, like you had to ask? And yet, right there in the article… was the answer …
Oh yea, we give it to the Iraqi children.
DUH?!
Is this a new form of weapons of mass destruction??... on teeth?
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Long Hair for Bust
I have been stuck thinking about this article I read the other day; the article was talking about how women who are middle aged, that they can no longer pull off the long-flowing hair. WHAT!?!
That's just WRONG! I know it’s not really wrong because the more that I think about it, it isn’t wrong, it's sad. I am one of those woman who desires those long, flowing flocks underneath whatever-the-color-of-the-month was... like during the summer, I am golden blond; and during the winter, I like to darken it up with some reddish tints. My favorite is auburn hair. To me, I love the feeling of my long auburn hair… it goes great with my green eyes and pale complexion. It makes me feel very feminine, soft and very sexy… I love it when my hair is long... it reminds me of how it flows beyond my breasts, hiding them, as I am straddled on top of...
oh wow.. not sure where I was there.
delete... delete... delete....
I know that the men in my life have preferred me to have long hair, regardless of what color it was. I remember one (idiot) guy who told me that he really didn’t want to date me unless I had long hair. Yes ladies... let's repeat... No He Di’nT....
A woman's hair is her status symbol. If styled wrong, it can completely throw off her day, but if cut wrong, ‘them is fighting words! But I am getting a little more ‘aged’ you know, in a ‘fine wine and gouda’ way of thinking.
I started to think about this shorter hair with age theory and maybe there is something to it. I mean, who wants to see grandma on top? That hair would have to be real long... if you know what I am saying?
So what age is the right age to start cutting it a little closer to the face? I am still in my prime but am inching towards that hill and maybe I should start thinking about cutting it a little more "bob-ish" The day that I’ll actually have to cut off the flocks, it’ll be a sad, sad day that needs to be revered. Maybe we can even make it a holiday. We can call it, “Bob Day.” Lord knows woman don’t get enough recognition for all that we do.
So on that fateful day when we cross over that edge of being a woman with long, sexy hair, do something nice for your woman. Take her out to dinner and get her bath ready. Most importantly, let her know how sexy you think she is. In fact, gentlemen, the next time you see a women in her prime with her freshly cut Bob, be sure to stop her to tell her just how sexy she is. Because just like it is for me, it is likely to be the same for most women… it’s long hair for bust!
That's just WRONG! I know it’s not really wrong because the more that I think about it, it isn’t wrong, it's sad. I am one of those woman who desires those long, flowing flocks underneath whatever-the-color-of-the-month was... like during the summer, I am golden blond; and during the winter, I like to darken it up with some reddish tints. My favorite is auburn hair. To me, I love the feeling of my long auburn hair… it goes great with my green eyes and pale complexion. It makes me feel very feminine, soft and very sexy… I love it when my hair is long... it reminds me of how it flows beyond my breasts, hiding them, as I am straddled on top of...
oh wow.. not sure where I was there.
delete... delete... delete....
I know that the men in my life have preferred me to have long hair, regardless of what color it was. I remember one (idiot) guy who told me that he really didn’t want to date me unless I had long hair. Yes ladies... let's repeat... No He Di’nT....
A woman's hair is her status symbol. If styled wrong, it can completely throw off her day, but if cut wrong, ‘them is fighting words! But I am getting a little more ‘aged’ you know, in a ‘fine wine and gouda’ way of thinking.
I started to think about this shorter hair with age theory and maybe there is something to it. I mean, who wants to see grandma on top? That hair would have to be real long... if you know what I am saying?
So what age is the right age to start cutting it a little closer to the face? I am still in my prime but am inching towards that hill and maybe I should start thinking about cutting it a little more "bob-ish" The day that I’ll actually have to cut off the flocks, it’ll be a sad, sad day that needs to be revered. Maybe we can even make it a holiday. We can call it, “Bob Day.” Lord knows woman don’t get enough recognition for all that we do. So on that fateful day when we cross over that edge of being a woman with long, sexy hair, do something nice for your woman. Take her out to dinner and get her bath ready. Most importantly, let her know how sexy you think she is. In fact, gentlemen, the next time you see a women in her prime with her freshly cut Bob, be sure to stop her to tell her just how sexy she is. Because just like it is for me, it is likely to be the same for most women… it’s long hair for bust!
Friday, October 1, 2010
Meg White-man for Governor
I came across a news headline today that I found too funny!
Meg got busted. Ms. close the borders and keep out the immigrants turned around and had the audacity to blame Jerry Brown. No Gloria Allred. No, never mind... Jerry did it, he is trying to run a smear campaign. HA! (even funnier since her not-so-nice ads have inundated public radio and tv for months now!) The only problem is that he is smearing her with her own shit. LOL! I but that shit stanks! Although somehow, I have a feeling we have only begun to scratch the (a-hem) surface. But Jerry you might want to thank the one in the All-red suit for an early Christmas gift.
This women is a hoot. She has absolutely no authenticity what-so-ever. It's bad enough that she is trying to buy her gubernatorial seat 'cuz I guess the seat she has doesn't quite fit. I have one word for Meg Whitman. Corporate.
So people of California.. let me ask you a question. How do you like your job? Do you like your boss? How ethical is your boss? What about the company policies? Do you like the way business is done at work? Ok that's more than one question... but my point is this... If Meg gets elected, you will now have your boss running the state's affairs. Or your Governor running the state like a business? Since when did the private sector enter into public service? They don't even know what public means... it's the tin man running the State of California. That's just wrong.
We might as well let the Rizzo/City of Bell team off the hook now because it is the SAME difference. Corporate greed spilling into politics. I guess since they got caught with their pants down in Ponzi schemes and corporate fraud, that getting into politics is the only thing that makes sense. Now they can change the very law that will EXXONerate them. Now that's just BP... er I meant... BS
Shame on you Meg Whitman. Your slip is showing.
We have already been Bush-whacked. *taken from Glossary terms (with permission from http://intherear-view-mirror.blogspot.com/)
Meg Whitman Housekeeper Scandal: Blames Jerry Brown
Ha Ha Ha I find this hilarious. Especially on the heals of the debate where she said that we should close the borders against immigrants BUT give them a temporary pass to come pick our strawberries. (What a bitch.) Well bitch wasn't the word I was thinking but I will keep it clean...er.Meg got busted. Ms. close the borders and keep out the immigrants turned around and had the audacity to blame Jerry Brown. No Gloria Allred. No, never mind... Jerry did it, he is trying to run a smear campaign. HA! (even funnier since her not-so-nice ads have inundated public radio and tv for months now!) The only problem is that he is smearing her with her own shit. LOL! I but that shit stanks! Although somehow, I have a feeling we have only begun to scratch the (a-hem) surface. But Jerry you might want to thank the one in the All-red suit for an early Christmas gift.
This women is a hoot. She has absolutely no authenticity what-so-ever. It's bad enough that she is trying to buy her gubernatorial seat 'cuz I guess the seat she has doesn't quite fit. I have one word for Meg Whitman. Corporate.
So people of California.. let me ask you a question. How do you like your job? Do you like your boss? How ethical is your boss? What about the company policies? Do you like the way business is done at work? Ok that's more than one question... but my point is this... If Meg gets elected, you will now have your boss running the state's affairs. Or your Governor running the state like a business? Since when did the private sector enter into public service? They don't even know what public means... it's the tin man running the State of California. That's just wrong.
We might as well let the Rizzo/City of Bell team off the hook now because it is the SAME difference. Corporate greed spilling into politics. I guess since they got caught with their pants down in Ponzi schemes and corporate fraud, that getting into politics is the only thing that makes sense. Now they can change the very law that will EXXONerate them. Now that's just BP... er I meant... BS
Shame on you Meg Whitman. Your slip is showing.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Handicap or Handy Park?
It’s the middle of September and for Southern California, it can literally be some of the hottest weather… and yesterday was probably the hottest day we have had this year So I thought it would be nice to pack the chitlins* up and take ‘em for a picnic at the park. There were a lot of team sports out playing ball and soccer, and maybe people just like me wanting to get the kids out of the house and into some shade. So needless to say, it was also quite a busy afternoon for parking.
It took me circling the driveway for about close to fifteen minutes before I finally landed a spot. Hot damn, it was like the lottery, I got a spot right at the end and even got me a little bit of shade. So I pack up the kids and the picnic essentials and start walking. Right then as I walked up to the sidewalk, a big Ford truck pulls into the handicapped stall on side of me… passing it, but then he stopped and started to back his truck into the space.
I have to admit that the blue lines were barely visible; even when I drove around the first time, I almost pulled into the space. So I thought maybe this guy didn’t know that it was Handicapped parking, so when he jumped out of the truck, I casually said to him, “that’s a handicapped spot,” actually thinking I was doing him a favor.
Well apparently I wasn’t because he remarked back… and not so nicely I might add… “YEA, I know.”
Hmmm. So this has me thinking about these handicapped placards. Is the point of having Disability plates just to give a bunch of normal people a great parking space? I mean, there is a point to handicapped stickers isn’t there?
And… if you take the space, doesn’t that mean that someone who actually needs it will NOT be able to park? To me, that is worse than someone just parking there. It’s like you are saying a few thing… a) you are pretending to have a limiting disability in order to get preferred parking and b) your ego is that big that you feel entitled to that space and c) you don’t care about anyone but yourself.
Just because your wife takes grandma to dialysis twice a week, doesn’t mean… asshole… that you can simply park where-ever-the-fuck you want for the rest of the week Jerk-off.**
So if you are someone that is using… I mean abusing, a handicapped placard for your own use, get a clue. I certainly hope your children do not have a front-row seat to the example you are setting. But if you either disagree with me or you want to clarify some information I have written here or downright want prove me wrong, feel free to write me back at iamanassholeandhavesomethingtosay@yahoo.com then please, explain to me how I am wrong.
And in the mean time, get off your fat, lazy ass and WALK.
* kids
** Jerk-off – the asshole who has no regard for anyone but himself
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
I was asked... Would you Rather Eat a Cockroach or...
Today I was asked a very important question. Maybe one of the best ones I have received all week from my fan mail. (yes, I have fan mail… :D and thank you!!)
Anyhoo, here is the million dollar question.
Would you rather eat a cockroach or kiss Kourtney Kardashian on the lips?
Then someone else responded…
Well that’s kinda hard cause I'd never eat a cockroach yet I’m no a lesbian LOL
So I am sitting here reading this thinking… DUH … and right then I decided that I have to answer this.
Lesbian or not, she is hot. AND ain't NO way I am eatin' a roach... cept one that is green and leafy. So hands down, I would kiss the girl. It's not even a fair question.
Besides, Kourtney doesn't mind some girl smooches. And it makes Scott jealous. LOL. So for me, this was two-for-two.
I don’t have to be a lesbian to desire to kiss a hot girl; any more than kissing one will magically turn me against the tube steak. We are human and do things, good, bad, or indifferent; the things that we do, do not define who we are. And that includes sex. Sometimes I think people need to get over it. Or get a little.
And of course, we have now come to the end of the ride where we have now reached the usual LIKE( sighhhh… UNLIKE) button. Feel free to press!
Anyhoo, here is the million dollar question.
Would you rather eat a cockroach or kiss Kourtney Kardashian on the lips?
Then someone else responded…
Well that’s kinda hard cause I'd never eat a cockroach yet I’m no a lesbian LOL
So I am sitting here reading this thinking… DUH … and right then I decided that I have to answer this.
Lesbian or not, she is hot. AND ain't NO way I am eatin' a roach... cept one that is green and leafy. So hands down, I would kiss the girl. It's not even a fair question.
Besides, Kourtney doesn't mind some girl smooches. And it makes Scott jealous. LOL. So for me, this was two-for-two.
I don’t have to be a lesbian to desire to kiss a hot girl; any more than kissing one will magically turn me against the tube steak. We are human and do things, good, bad, or indifferent; the things that we do, do not define who we are. And that includes sex. Sometimes I think people need to get over it. Or get a little.
And of course, we have now come to the end of the ride where we have now reached the usual LIKE( sighhhh… UNLIKE) button. Feel free to press!
Sunday, August 22, 2010
FB- Tales of the Darkside Vol: One
Ok so check this out... I am surfing through FaceBook, checking out all of my new friends... and of course, dropping the 'Thanks for the connection' blog bombs on them, and I came across this post ...
"We lost another Brother today, he would not see our Way of Life. God Speed Allen S, may you finally be at peace.
WOW
Did they just publicly admit to bumping this guy off... for religious purposes?
Isn't this how wars are started? Damn, and I thought I was risqué?
Ok, I just added him so I now I have to think about an exit strategy.
Maybe I should first, befriend him, you know, get to know him and find out exactly where this church is.
And then RUN in the other direction!
"We lost another Brother today, he would not see our Way of Life. God Speed Allen S, may you finally be at peace.
WOW
Did they just publicly admit to bumping this guy off... for religious purposes?
Isn't this how wars are started? Damn, and I thought I was risqué?
Ok, I just added him so I now I have to think about an exit strategy.
Maybe I should first, befriend him, you know, get to know him and find out exactly where this church is.
And then RUN in the other direction!
Monday, August 16, 2010
Never Apologize for...
I see a lot of people everyday. Some people just don’t get it; others do... but often choose not to. What I am talking about? Being yourself.
I was having a conversation with a guy who was trying to make me laugh... or he was just be silly. And then he straightened himself up and apologized. For a minute, he just let go of himself go and was fun. And then the inner adult came in and corrected him on how to speak and act 'appropriately.'
ok, first of all... I hate that word. Yes I do believe that there is a time and a place for everyone to behave and where we have to keep up appearances; but the place that you shouldn’t do it is at home... or with the people that you are about.
You should never have to apologize for being yourself. In fact, I think MORE people have to learn how to truly connect, communicate, and emanate from deep within our inner self... or better said, the Inner Child.
Why do you think our children are so happy? They just love. They certainly don’t hold onto things, like grudges and pettiness; as something happens, they release the emotions and just a few minutes later - everything is done and over with and all is well. It’s called loving unconditionally. After all, they make music from pots and toys from the caps of a soda pop bottle.
Why would a person WANT to hold onto such negative space anyway?
Well, back to my topic...
That person who is creative and fun, silly, always making people laugh, sharing their sandwiches, holding hands, go swimming, playing jacks, and simply... people who find the meaning of ... well, just about anything. These are the ones connected to their inner child. Oddly, it's the hardest character sometimes to play. The most vulnerable. And in the same token, the most meaningful once you work out some of the speed bumps.
Bravo. It takes a brave person to be them self.
For those who aren't... doesn't life that is controlled, stiff, laughter-less, all business, maybe even lonely... suck?
Gosh if you ask me, you should never apologize ... for being yourself.
I was having a conversation with a guy who was trying to make me laugh... or he was just be silly. And then he straightened himself up and apologized. For a minute, he just let go of himself go and was fun. And then the inner adult came in and corrected him on how to speak and act 'appropriately.'
ok, first of all... I hate that word. Yes I do believe that there is a time and a place for everyone to behave and where we have to keep up appearances; but the place that you shouldn’t do it is at home... or with the people that you are about.
You should never have to apologize for being yourself. In fact, I think MORE people have to learn how to truly connect, communicate, and emanate from deep within our inner self... or better said, the Inner Child.
Why do you think our children are so happy? They just love. They certainly don’t hold onto things, like grudges and pettiness; as something happens, they release the emotions and just a few minutes later - everything is done and over with and all is well. It’s called loving unconditionally. After all, they make music from pots and toys from the caps of a soda pop bottle.
Why would a person WANT to hold onto such negative space anyway?
Well, back to my topic...
That person who is creative and fun, silly, always making people laugh, sharing their sandwiches, holding hands, go swimming, playing jacks, and simply... people who find the meaning of ... well, just about anything. These are the ones connected to their inner child. Oddly, it's the hardest character sometimes to play. The most vulnerable. And in the same token, the most meaningful once you work out some of the speed bumps.
Bravo. It takes a brave person to be them self.
For those who aren't... doesn't life that is controlled, stiff, laughter-less, all business, maybe even lonely... suck?
Gosh if you ask me, you should never apologize ... for being yourself.
Friday, August 13, 2010
The Lure of Matt Cedeno...
Every day I logged into my FaceBook account to check all of the mail from my stalkers... every day, I see the handsome and seductive face of
Matt Cedeno.
Friday, August 6, 2010
UNLike UNLike UNLike- Damn it...
You know how on Facebook we are constantly inundated by ads asking if we Like something, having the option to choose to click on the button.
But what happens if we don’t Like something? I came across an ad for Sarah Palin for President in 2012. UGH! The thought of this maniacal woman running the United States even for a minute horrifies me.
I kept looking for the UNLike button... Damn it... couldn’t find one.
If FaceBook really wants to know what I Like, and what I UNLike … what they really need to do is to add an UNLike button. Then they'll know. Trust me, on those things that I truly detest... I will push it a few hundred times... even if that becomes a means to take out all of my aggression.
Or just to get my point across. UNLike ... Damn it!
So what do you think? Shouldn't FaceBook create the UnLike button? Click on the Like button if this is workin’ for ya!
But what happens if we don’t Like something? I came across an ad for Sarah Palin for President in 2012. UGH! The thought of this maniacal woman running the United States even for a minute horrifies me.
I kept looking for the UNLike button... Damn it... couldn’t find one.
If FaceBook really wants to know what I Like, and what I UNLike … what they really need to do is to add an UNLike button. Then they'll know. Trust me, on those things that I truly detest... I will push it a few hundred times... even if that becomes a means to take out all of my aggression.
Or just to get my point across. UNLike ... Damn it!
So what do you think? Shouldn't FaceBook create the UnLike button? Click on the Like button if this is workin’ for ya!
Friday, July 30, 2010
Too Sexy for my Face...Book?
So what is the deal with all of these FaceBook profile poses? I mean, is that how you really want the world to see you? Hips contorted, hands on hips, breasts sticking out, lips all pursed, looking all (perception is subjective) hot. Yea, I kinda don't get it.
I want people see see me for who I am... not who I am projecting myself to be.
ok, ok I know that must sound kind of strange coming from someone who doesn't even have a profile photo. I am a very private person with a very public job, and it's hard sometimes to separate the two but it keeps my home life very separate from my work life. But this profile thing is something different.
If we pose a 'real' photo, then others look at us and think, well that person is plain 'ol ... and if we pose all sexy and hot, then we are better than our regular selves?
I dont think so.
My picture is no where near a projection of who I am. For me, it's a mask. But are all those profile pictures out there masks? If so, why? What are you afraid of? Someone might actually get to know the real you?
So sexier? No. More insecure? Maybe. Conceited? lol - depends. Do you actually think that you look good like that? Or were you trying to look better?
I want people see see me for who I am... not who I am projecting myself to be.
ok, ok I know that must sound kind of strange coming from someone who doesn't even have a profile photo. I am a very private person with a very public job, and it's hard sometimes to separate the two but it keeps my home life very separate from my work life. But this profile thing is something different.
If we pose a 'real' photo, then others look at us and think, well that person is plain 'ol ... and if we pose all sexy and hot, then we are better than our regular selves?
I dont think so.
My picture is no where near a projection of who I am. For me, it's a mask. But are all those profile pictures out there masks? If so, why? What are you afraid of? Someone might actually get to know the real you?
So sexier? No. More insecure? Maybe. Conceited? lol - depends. Do you actually think that you look good like that? Or were you trying to look better?
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Whoever Told Men...?
Whoever said that it was ok for a guy to buy a pair of sandals that are waaaay to big... and that would be acceptable?
I am at the counter ready to buy my sugar-free peach, mango Slurpee and there is this 20-ish year old, kinda dumpy guy standing in front of me. Here I am, minding my own business, looking him up and down and I am thinking... hmm not much to him. and then I get down to his shows... it was like a broken record coming to a screeching stop.
As I looked down I saw he was wearing his beach sandals like 3 sizes too big... his shoe was sticking out - about an inch on each side - from his toes and his heels...
What the hell is that?
His feet looked like they were a third of their actual size. But then looking over the rest of his attire, he had on a very large, baggy T-shirt, and some baggy low-waisted pants. So the shoes had just as much thought as the rest of his clothes. But it was the shoes that really bugged me.
Baggy clothes are one thing, but this wasn’t a case of high fashion where it’s now cool for the guy to walk around with half his ass covered in multi-colored flags covering the slot in between his baggy pants where the belt is saving the rest of us from the peek show… This was more like, 'I walked into the Target Mens department, grabbed a pair from the rack that somewhat resembled a number that he guessed would fit his body, and then slapped down a twenty at the register," demeanor of shopping.
At first it had occurred to me that this guy must have lost a lot of weight. I mean for a guy, you know… forty pounds or so. And he still had another ten or twenty to go and didn’t want to buy more clothes just yet… in hopes.
But then I thought, … no, sadly, he has a "peeny" ... you know, a teenie penis... and wore his shoes bigger, in the attempt to say, hey I wear a much bigger size that he actually did. It might be embarrassing to shop for shoes and say, can I get a size 7… in Mens? Women don’t run away quite so fast.
Although any one of those reasons would have been good ones, but then I started to think to myself about the raising ritual of the young teenage white male; soon I had the answer.
He was lazy.
He didn't care what he looked like because he was, first, a white male. Mommy probably did everything for him, so no one really taught him how to shop, iron, and possibly even do laundry.
He obviously wasn't groomed; therefore had no current girlfriend... (this theory, of course, is much like the, 'who came first discussion... the chicken or the egg) No way was this guy getting a girl, dressed (and groomed) like that; even if he had the girl, it’s obvious that he didn’t care all that much about her... maybe just keeping her around to wash his dishes and do a little laundry, and of course, clean his clock.
So my question is, whoever said that it was acceptable to look like this? I guess women do it too... especially after we have babies, but geez loueeze, we are dodging excrements comin' outta all orifices. What's your excuse?
Ok so you don’t have one. No harm, no foul. But maybe just take a cue from this. There are little feet painted on the floor of some stores. (especially in the boys …ahem section) AND if you step it up a notch, to you know, Mall level, you can actually get some hot chick ready and waiting with the silver foot measuring device. You put your foot into the machine nestled securely in her crotch. Two for one there, eh buddy?
But whatever you do, DON'T go outside in public wearing sandals that big. It's embarrassing for both of us... But mostly to you, but hey, we are all now thinking about how unfortunate it must be… to be in your shoes...
Kinda like tossing a hot dog down a hallway... if you get my drift??
I am at the counter ready to buy my sugar-free peach, mango Slurpee and there is this 20-ish year old, kinda dumpy guy standing in front of me. Here I am, minding my own business, looking him up and down and I am thinking... hmm not much to him. and then I get down to his shows... it was like a broken record coming to a screeching stop.
As I looked down I saw he was wearing his beach sandals like 3 sizes too big... his shoe was sticking out - about an inch on each side - from his toes and his heels...
What the hell is that?
His feet looked like they were a third of their actual size. But then looking over the rest of his attire, he had on a very large, baggy T-shirt, and some baggy low-waisted pants. So the shoes had just as much thought as the rest of his clothes. But it was the shoes that really bugged me.
Baggy clothes are one thing, but this wasn’t a case of high fashion where it’s now cool for the guy to walk around with half his ass covered in multi-colored flags covering the slot in between his baggy pants where the belt is saving the rest of us from the peek show… This was more like, 'I walked into the Target Mens department, grabbed a pair from the rack that somewhat resembled a number that he guessed would fit his body, and then slapped down a twenty at the register," demeanor of shopping.
At first it had occurred to me that this guy must have lost a lot of weight. I mean for a guy, you know… forty pounds or so. And he still had another ten or twenty to go and didn’t want to buy more clothes just yet… in hopes.
But then I thought, … no, sadly, he has a "peeny" ... you know, a teenie penis... and wore his shoes bigger, in the attempt to say, hey I wear a much bigger size that he actually did. It might be embarrassing to shop for shoes and say, can I get a size 7… in Mens? Women don’t run away quite so fast.
Although any one of those reasons would have been good ones, but then I started to think to myself about the raising ritual of the young teenage white male; soon I had the answer.
He was lazy.
He didn't care what he looked like because he was, first, a white male. Mommy probably did everything for him, so no one really taught him how to shop, iron, and possibly even do laundry.
He obviously wasn't groomed; therefore had no current girlfriend... (this theory, of course, is much like the, 'who came first discussion... the chicken or the egg) No way was this guy getting a girl, dressed (and groomed) like that; even if he had the girl, it’s obvious that he didn’t care all that much about her... maybe just keeping her around to wash his dishes and do a little laundry, and of course, clean his clock.
So my question is, whoever said that it was acceptable to look like this? I guess women do it too... especially after we have babies, but geez loueeze, we are dodging excrements comin' outta all orifices. What's your excuse?
Ok so you don’t have one. No harm, no foul. But maybe just take a cue from this. There are little feet painted on the floor of some stores. (especially in the boys …ahem section) AND if you step it up a notch, to you know, Mall level, you can actually get some hot chick ready and waiting with the silver foot measuring device. You put your foot into the machine nestled securely in her crotch. Two for one there, eh buddy?
But whatever you do, DON'T go outside in public wearing sandals that big. It's embarrassing for both of us... But mostly to you, but hey, we are all now thinking about how unfortunate it must be… to be in your shoes...
Kinda like tossing a hot dog down a hallway... if you get my drift??
Friday, July 2, 2010
What's up with these Joined Names?
Ok I just don't get it when people use these joined (at the hip) names for celebrity relationships. I was just reading the 'buzz' online that my fav t.v. show, House, who is normally a grumpy, sarcastic, and downright asshole of a man but BRILLIANT doctor, who will now be happy on the show in coming episodes. See, Happy and House normally dont fit in a sentence together. Hooked... I kept reading. I learned that Dr. House will be hooking up with his long-time love, Lisa Cuddy. House and Lisa... were affectionately referred to as 'HUDDY.'
HUDDY? What the hell is with all of these combined names? Don't people know how stupid these names actually sound? Does someone actually think that HUDDY sounds attractive as a word, or to either of them... especially not to Lisa Edelstein, the talented and gifted actress who has now been deduced to the linking of a super-couple that sounds more like a cow chewing hay...
I wonder if people do it in real life too...? Although I seriously don't think so... at least I hope not cause it's pretty pathetic. Then I began to wonder ... who actually thinks up these LAMES? (That's Lame Ass Names for those of you who aren't paying attention!)
I decided to do some research to ease my idle curiousity during an evening while bored at the computer. It seems that this sort of name joining starded to became more infamous through daytime soap operas, like the Days of our Lives super couple, Bo and Hope, now affectionately known as BOPE.
And it seems like this epidemic has now spread as we see those more recognizable couples like Branjalina, and Bennifer, the ex Ben and JLo.
I just have to ask... What drugs was someone smoking when they were sittin back watching t.v thinking hmmmm, Sami and EJ should be EJAMI; or maybe it was those just as equally passionate fans that believe Sami's should be with Lucas... becoming LUMI. LUMI? Well I guess it's ok since they have kids together, it should be LUMI. WAIT! Sami had a kid, no two kids with EJ AND, two of her kids are twins... and the father is.. no the father's of Sami's twins are... BOTH EJ and Lucas. Maybe it's a little more menage a trois-ish like, LAMIEJ? I dont know... hurts to think that much.
Then again, I am not even sure which is worse, EJAMI or LAMI. hmmm.
Well... if you ask me, it's all fudiculous.
HUDDY? What the hell is with all of these combined names? Don't people know how stupid these names actually sound? Does someone actually think that HUDDY sounds attractive as a word, or to either of them... especially not to Lisa Edelstein, the talented and gifted actress who has now been deduced to the linking of a super-couple that sounds more like a cow chewing hay...
I wonder if people do it in real life too...? Although I seriously don't think so... at least I hope not cause it's pretty pathetic. Then I began to wonder ... who actually thinks up these LAMES? (That's Lame Ass Names for those of you who aren't paying attention!)
I decided to do some research to ease my idle curiousity during an evening while bored at the computer. It seems that this sort of name joining starded to became more infamous through daytime soap operas, like the Days of our Lives super couple, Bo and Hope, now affectionately known as BOPE.
And it seems like this epidemic has now spread as we see those more recognizable couples like Branjalina, and Bennifer, the ex Ben and JLo.
I just have to ask... What drugs was someone smoking when they were sittin back watching t.v thinking hmmmm, Sami and EJ should be EJAMI; or maybe it was those just as equally passionate fans that believe Sami's should be with Lucas... becoming LUMI. LUMI? Well I guess it's ok since they have kids together, it should be LUMI. WAIT! Sami had a kid, no two kids with EJ AND, two of her kids are twins... and the father is.. no the father's of Sami's twins are... BOTH EJ and Lucas. Maybe it's a little more menage a trois-ish like, LAMIEJ? I dont know... hurts to think that much.
Then again, I am not even sure which is worse, EJAMI or LAMI. hmmm.
Well... if you ask me, it's all fudiculous.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Playas'
On Father’s Day, a friend of mine… a guy of course… was catching a lot of shit over his viewpoints about fathers. Women were all ready to come out swinging and bashing men about how they’d been done wrong. Some had gone through relationship after relationship with the wrong kind of guy, or staying far too long in the worst relationships. (raising hand here)
As women, I will be the first to admit that I don’t always know what we are thinking when it comes to those despicable guys. Ladies like the bad boys, them sexy mo fo’s that are out for nothing but a little fun… Admit it, boys you know who you are and ladies… you know who I am referring to… the Playas’.
Dating the Playas’ is so hard to resist. It’s like that chocolate cake that is deliciously hard-to-resist but full of fat and calories.. so why do we eat it? Well, I’ll tell ya. It tastes damn good that’s why. Mmm mmm, yummy yummy, all the way down to the last drip, drip, drop. But like any piece of cake, you have to know when enough is enough. I mean come on.
Then there are the relationships that we have been in faaaar too long with that guy we know isn’t going to commit… or change. This is the guy who you have been dating going on four years and you are practically living with… practically. And then there is the guy who leaves his shit all over the place… I mean the guy who leaves HIS SHIT any where he can; and then there is the guy when you come home and only to find him surfing the net on a porn site trying to buy Bambi a new set of boobs. (again raising hand!)
The problem isn’t so much the men here.. it’s us ladies. Now before you start booing and hissing, and throwing your stuff at the computer monitor and sending me HATE mail, just hear me out.
Woman can be the most low-down dirty of ‘em all and I’m saying this as a women. We are just as guilty of doing everything we accuse the men of, and then some. Women are fierce; and men … well, they often land a little more on the dense side.
For the most part, men are pretty simple… they are the breeders. It’s deeply ingrained in them, which is why it’s every man’s ideal to have that little chip off the ol’ block that they kindly refer to as “Junior.” It goes all the way back to the stone ages where they knocked us out and dragged us back to their caves. Once satisfied, they’d settle down, becoming the head of their brood.
You rarely ever see men single or alone. They pretty much like our companionship… and definitely like the gold nestled between them there hills. They are kinda like little puppies that just follow us around because they can’t shake the smell of that biscuit. But women… women have an agenda. They play to win. Women are the biggest Playas’ of ‘em all.
Do you know that the biggest addiction that we face today isn’t drugs or alcohol? It’s control. And it all started out with a little thing called, Women’s Lib and that first chick who burned her bra. So if you are pissed off at your man, blame that bitch! It’s her fault. The truth is she prolly was flat-chested and she needed the attention!
I think women's lib has totally messed up the role of men in our lives. Prior to that, men were all about taking care of business and even quite gentlemanly. But at some point because of some bad apples, someone got it in her head that we needed to be the ones in control, not the men. (and many, many still are) So these new Playas’ took over the control and power from all the men out their need to be independent.
I looked up independence in the dictionary, check it out… Independence is an adjective that somehow with Women’s Lib became more like a noun. The dictionary says that Independence is “not influenced or controlled by others in matters of opinion, conduct, etc.; thinking or acting for oneself” So how exactly are men supposed to fit into relationships anyway… ?
But after so much time of this independence crap, the men, dumb as they are, were walking around in circles saying… Which way did they go.. which way did they go? They got lost, not even sure where the hell they fit in anymore; tired and hungry they said, ‘screw it and gave up.’ Giving up is easy; it’s human nature to take the easy road. Let’s face it, we’re ALL guilty of taking the path of least resistance instead of taking the path of hard work that lead’s to our growth. That’s why God made prostitutes… and the Lotto.
Part of the issue is that we raise our men not to be emotional. We say, ‘boy, don’t cry, tough it up, be a man.’ Twenty years later when they did grow up, they don’t know how to deal with their emotions and then we come back at them whining.. ‘you aren't being sensitive to my needs.’ Hello… how can they? They don’t know how because we never taught them to deal with anything on an emotional level when we took a little package we lovingly call, NADS.
This is not to say that men should catch a free ride. But it's gone on for so long now, and to the extreme that they are essentially now like little boys and have become quite lazy. Not all. But a lot of them. Gosh, it does gives a whole new meaning to the word Cougar these days doesn’t it?
Then there is another really big issue that goes back to the Playas’ of independence… women. When a woman finally does give up and say to her man… enough is enough, and tells him to step up and kicks him to the curb; and then some other Playa comes along and says, ‘hey baby I will take you because I don’t need, nor have, the self-esteem enough to turn you away.’ Oh and ladies… stop believing that you are the exception to the rule or that you can change them. Can anyone change you?
So ladies, if you want men to be men, then get out of the driver’s seat and let them BE your man. They genuinely WANT to be providers; they LOVE taking care of us, and will go that extra mile because it is within their DNA to do so. It really gets them off to literally get us off… seriously. And if you don’t believe me, just ask ‘em. Even if they say no, watch the smile plastered on their faces as they are thinking of the biscuit…
So peeps, if you want to see change in your relationships then you have to change. Stop playing the games, otherwise, you’re gonna see pattern after pattern of the same ol’ thing… and then nothing changes, just another game of the Playas’….
Here is a little advice my mama always told me… a vision, without execution, is merely a hallucination.
ok I am ducking out of here. (literally)
peace
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Dating the Playas’ is so hard to resist. It’s like that chocolate cake that is deliciously hard-to-resist but full of fat and calories.. so why do we eat it? Well, I’ll tell ya. It tastes damn good that’s why. Mmm mmm, yummy yummy, all the way down to the last drip, drip, drop. But like any piece of cake, you have to know when enough is enough. I mean come on.
Then there are the relationships that we have been in faaaar too long with that guy we know isn’t going to commit… or change. This is the guy who you have been dating going on four years and you are practically living with… practically. And then there is the guy who leaves his shit all over the place… I mean the guy who leaves HIS SHIT any where he can; and then there is the guy when you come home and only to find him surfing the net on a porn site trying to buy Bambi a new set of boobs. (again raising hand!)
The problem isn’t so much the men here.. it’s us ladies. Now before you start booing and hissing, and throwing your stuff at the computer monitor and sending me HATE mail, just hear me out.
Woman can be the most low-down dirty of ‘em all and I’m saying this as a women. We are just as guilty of doing everything we accuse the men of, and then some. Women are fierce; and men … well, they often land a little more on the dense side.
For the most part, men are pretty simple… they are the breeders. It’s deeply ingrained in them, which is why it’s every man’s ideal to have that little chip off the ol’ block that they kindly refer to as “Junior.” It goes all the way back to the stone ages where they knocked us out and dragged us back to their caves. Once satisfied, they’d settle down, becoming the head of their brood.
You rarely ever see men single or alone. They pretty much like our companionship… and definitely like the gold nestled between them there hills. They are kinda like little puppies that just follow us around because they can’t shake the smell of that biscuit. But women… women have an agenda. They play to win. Women are the biggest Playas’ of ‘em all.
Do you know that the biggest addiction that we face today isn’t drugs or alcohol? It’s control. And it all started out with a little thing called, Women’s Lib and that first chick who burned her bra. So if you are pissed off at your man, blame that bitch! It’s her fault. The truth is she prolly was flat-chested and she needed the attention!
I think women's lib has totally messed up the role of men in our lives. Prior to that, men were all about taking care of business and even quite gentlemanly. But at some point because of some bad apples, someone got it in her head that we needed to be the ones in control, not the men. (and many, many still are) So these new Playas’ took over the control and power from all the men out their need to be independent.
I looked up independence in the dictionary, check it out… Independence is an adjective that somehow with Women’s Lib became more like a noun. The dictionary says that Independence is “not influenced or controlled by others in matters of opinion, conduct, etc.; thinking or acting for oneself” So how exactly are men supposed to fit into relationships anyway… ?
But after so much time of this independence crap, the men, dumb as they are, were walking around in circles saying… Which way did they go.. which way did they go? They got lost, not even sure where the hell they fit in anymore; tired and hungry they said, ‘screw it and gave up.’ Giving up is easy; it’s human nature to take the easy road. Let’s face it, we’re ALL guilty of taking the path of least resistance instead of taking the path of hard work that lead’s to our growth. That’s why God made prostitutes… and the Lotto.
Part of the issue is that we raise our men not to be emotional. We say, ‘boy, don’t cry, tough it up, be a man.’ Twenty years later when they did grow up, they don’t know how to deal with their emotions and then we come back at them whining.. ‘you aren't being sensitive to my needs.’ Hello… how can they? They don’t know how because we never taught them to deal with anything on an emotional level when we took a little package we lovingly call, NADS.
This is not to say that men should catch a free ride. But it's gone on for so long now, and to the extreme that they are essentially now like little boys and have become quite lazy. Not all. But a lot of them. Gosh, it does gives a whole new meaning to the word Cougar these days doesn’t it?
Then there is another really big issue that goes back to the Playas’ of independence… women. When a woman finally does give up and say to her man… enough is enough, and tells him to step up and kicks him to the curb; and then some other Playa comes along and says, ‘hey baby I will take you because I don’t need, nor have, the self-esteem enough to turn you away.’ Oh and ladies… stop believing that you are the exception to the rule or that you can change them. Can anyone change you?
So ladies, if you want men to be men, then get out of the driver’s seat and let them BE your man. They genuinely WANT to be providers; they LOVE taking care of us, and will go that extra mile because it is within their DNA to do so. It really gets them off to literally get us off… seriously. And if you don’t believe me, just ask ‘em. Even if they say no, watch the smile plastered on their faces as they are thinking of the biscuit…
So peeps, if you want to see change in your relationships then you have to change. Stop playing the games, otherwise, you’re gonna see pattern after pattern of the same ol’ thing… and then nothing changes, just another game of the Playas’….
Here is a little advice my mama always told me… a vision, without execution, is merely a hallucination.
ok I am ducking out of here. (literally)
peace
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
SHOWDY... What Happened?
Earlier today, I was looking through FaceBook at one if my new friends that I just accepted. Oh my, this guy was fine... with a capital SHOWDY.
oh wow... I think I just figured out what that means. (For those of you who don’t know… SHOWDY is what a brothah calls a sistah, 'Showdy!')
See, I think they are really saying, 'Shit Howdy'... because Shit Howdy was the first thing that was aiming to come out of my mouth at that moment… I mean, this guy was hot ... Wooo weee, SHawwwteeEEE !
Anyway... I digress.
I am perusing his FaceBook page and...
Did you ever notice that the word perusing was a bit of an oxymoron? The description is to 'scrutinize, look over with detail,' but the overall flow of the word scrutinize is very casual, like you are casually browsing over the page. My parents would scrutinize over my attire, my boss scrutinizes over my timecard. Hmmm, seems to me, there is absolutely nothing casual about scrutinizing.
Sorry… I digress, yet again. Back to Prince Delectable.
I am perusing casually over his FaceBook page and I come across links for several of his sisters. Curious to meet the future members of my family, I clicked on the first one. YIKES. She was hideous. Lawdy, what the hell happened here? It was like taking a drink of a Pepsi and it's really an Iced Tea. Iced Tea!! My brain went into a meltdown as my taste buds go into udder chaos. Did I say udder. hmmm, wonder what part of the unconscious that came from?
I decided to go back to the picture of my guy to see if maybe there was something I was missing, you know, like he was adopted or sumthin. I mean, she didn't look anything like him. So I am thinking that it must have been a fluke. Besides, the other sisters couldn’t be that bad. I go back to the links… a little scared… like I am walking into the barn after all of my cute girlfriends have been brutally murdered... and at the crescendo of the music playing in my head, I clicked on the next link. Well, she wasn’t as bad as the first one, but still a tad scary. A decapitation would have done some good here.
It’s not that I think all people should be pretty in order to be validated or anything like that. I, myself, have an ass the size of my chair so I can’t exactly talk; but it was the comparison. The mere shock of it all. I am looking into marrying into this family and God forbid should I ever think about having children after the trauma I just experienced. After all, I am thinking of the kids.
I stopped there. Lost in what was happening in the moment. Dreams lost, fantasies shattered. How could his genes from the same family be so different? I mean this guy would've been like lickin’ a giant Fudgesicle on a stick. Yummmy.. and there was no fudge lickin’ on any of those other sticks, I tell ya! I guess if you could find the stick.
Just saying is all.
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
oh wow... I think I just figured out what that means. (For those of you who don’t know… SHOWDY is what a brothah calls a sistah, 'Showdy!')
See, I think they are really saying, 'Shit Howdy'... because Shit Howdy was the first thing that was aiming to come out of my mouth at that moment… I mean, this guy was hot ... Wooo weee, SHawwwteeEEE !
Anyway... I digress.
I am perusing his FaceBook page and...
Did you ever notice that the word perusing was a bit of an oxymoron? The description is to 'scrutinize, look over with detail,' but the overall flow of the word scrutinize is very casual, like you are casually browsing over the page. My parents would scrutinize over my attire, my boss scrutinizes over my timecard. Hmmm, seems to me, there is absolutely nothing casual about scrutinizing.
Sorry… I digress, yet again. Back to Prince Delectable.
I am perusing casually over his FaceBook page and I come across links for several of his sisters. Curious to meet the future members of my family, I clicked on the first one. YIKES. She was hideous. Lawdy, what the hell happened here? It was like taking a drink of a Pepsi and it's really an Iced Tea. Iced Tea!! My brain went into a meltdown as my taste buds go into udder chaos. Did I say udder. hmmm, wonder what part of the unconscious that came from?
I decided to go back to the picture of my guy to see if maybe there was something I was missing, you know, like he was adopted or sumthin. I mean, she didn't look anything like him. So I am thinking that it must have been a fluke. Besides, the other sisters couldn’t be that bad. I go back to the links… a little scared… like I am walking into the barn after all of my cute girlfriends have been brutally murdered... and at the crescendo of the music playing in my head, I clicked on the next link. Well, she wasn’t as bad as the first one, but still a tad scary. A decapitation would have done some good here.
It’s not that I think all people should be pretty in order to be validated or anything like that. I, myself, have an ass the size of my chair so I can’t exactly talk; but it was the comparison. The mere shock of it all. I am looking into marrying into this family and God forbid should I ever think about having children after the trauma I just experienced. After all, I am thinking of the kids.
I stopped there. Lost in what was happening in the moment. Dreams lost, fantasies shattered. How could his genes from the same family be so different? I mean this guy would've been like lickin’ a giant Fudgesicle on a stick. Yummmy.. and there was no fudge lickin’ on any of those other sticks, I tell ya! I guess if you could find the stick.
Just saying is all.
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
FaceBook: Tales of the Darkside
Do you know how many wacky people roam the halls of FaceBook? I do. Some are friends. (Just ask if you need me to get you the hook up)
I get the strangest emails from people who decide... hey, I want to send you to send me an email. I guess that is one of the pitfalls of being an unheard of celebrity. Just famous enough to have to beg, plead, and borrow for this kind of sordid attention.
Kidding. PU-lease do not send me email. I will block, report, and send Bruno over.
I decided to create my own FaceBook: Tales of the Darkside label and start posting stories of some of my adventures on FB. Feel free to email some of your fav's too!
Life's too short. Let's get a good laugh out of it!
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
I get the strangest emails from people who decide... hey, I want to send you to send me an email. I guess that is one of the pitfalls of being an unheard of celebrity. Just famous enough to have to beg, plead, and borrow for this kind of sordid attention.
Kidding. PU-lease do not send me email. I will block, report, and send Bruno over.
I decided to create my own FaceBook: Tales of the Darkside label and start posting stories of some of my adventures on FB. Feel free to email some of your fav's too!
Life's too short. Let's get a good laugh out of it!
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Vanity? or Insanity?
I have never understood what the whole deal was with Vanity plates. I mean, what exactly is their purpose? Is it just about who can think up the cutest phrase, or are we really being serious about making statements that proclaim to the world more about who we are? Is the Vanity plate about being Vain, or Insane, or maybe just a little stupid?
I will be the first one to admit that there are some really good vanity plates out there. People can get pretty creative in making a statement about themselves. A couple of the goodies that I have seen are MYTWUK, SPEDEMN or LAKRFAN. There are also the plates that use the symbols to get their point across… like the one I really like, and should have been on my sister’s car… SH’O’PPER with a Heart symbol for the letter O, for someone who loves to shop; or ‘HAND’EMAN, that is written with a Hand symbol and the word ‘eman’ next to it. Since these people sported Lakers flags, or were attached to a white work truck, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what the vanity plate meant.
But then you get some people that take it to the opposite end of the spectrum where it takes you forever to figure out what the plate actually means... and even then, we still may never get it. Again, let's reiterate that I did NOT take the little yellow bus to school… but when someone almost hits a telephone pole attempting to figure out what the plate actually meant, then it goes into the category of what I now call, the insanity plate.
Here are some other examples of what I think fall under the Insanity plate. Some people just want to see how clever they are and basically use any word, even if it has no personal meaning for them. Why…? That makes absolutely no sense to me. (or cents, for that matter) Do you realize that you are paying a FEE to put some pointless word on your car? Buy a plate and pour your heart out! Don’t we have enough in our lives that is meaningless? I would avoid using those embarrassing words PHATFRE, unless of course you are… fat free on both counts, because the woman I saw driving was PHATFUL and not because she was PHAT and a bag of chips. She was all that because of a lot bags of chips.
It’s like people do it simply because they can, like they have somehow tricked the DMV by getting away with word cunning. Cunning language…tee hee.. Like who cares if you got the word NIGHT on your car, I mean, DUH. Unless it’s your name, what’s the point; unless you are an astronomer, what’s the point of putting “URANUS” on your license plate. Oh… hahahaha… that one I got.
But here is the biggest peeve for me: those confessions of love…. The plates with just the initials like JS ____ KS or the plate that has a heart in the middle of the letters, DM and GJ. I mean, I got that James Smith married Kim Smith, and Gina loves Derek sooo much that she needs to drive around in her car with her proclamation of love written on it BUT why not save yourself a few bucks and a lot of embarrassment?
See, my question is, if it's not Derek's car, or James didn't ask you to write your plate in that order, well... it looks kind of… I hate to say it but... a little pathetic. See, here is the skinny... (are ya paying attention PHAT?) When us drivers look into your car after the intrigue of reading your plate, it's like the bubble of our illusion has been burst and we have been catapulted back to reality. Hard!
Why add the guy’s initials first, instead of saying like it is… Kim, if it's your car... just say that you love James. Does it validate the marriage more to write James first? Because Kim, we all are thinking that perhaps this is your way of telling yourself, (and everyone who will listen) that 'James loves... er, loved, you,’ and that maybe you aren’t even sure anymore.
Let me ask you something... Did you ask yourself… Hey, what happens if we split? If we divorce? Then you now have to drive around with the fact that ‘James once loved Kim;’ but James now owns a Porsche and has moved on to a daily ritual of Viagra and Rogaine for his new life with Emma. I mean, it’s not like we can cross it out and start over. Nope. You bought ‘em, you live with them. Then again, I guess you can divvy ‘em up in the divorce settlement.
It’s kind of the same thing for those star crossed lovers, Derek and Gina… I am sorry. Truly... truly sorry but if it’s not Derek’s car (judging by the driver) it probably wasn’t James' idea to get those plates; therefore, all of us in bubble-land are thinking that those are probably the plates that stem from low self-esteem; Gina made sure that the whole world knew they were together but divulged even more information as she entered onto the walkway of shame as she turned in the plates to her local DMV.
So I guess the moral of this story kiddies, is to never put anything in writing, or metal, that you can’t easily undo, reverse, or get out of… without costing yourself money, time, or further embarrassment. Ask yourself some very important questions first. Is this going to make me look Hot, or Not?
There is a very thin line between sporting Vanity plates or Insanity plates, and it usually stems from our over-inflated egos, and all-to-hidden agenda based on insecurity unless you just want to pay more money to your local DMV. Just ask James who thought he dodged that bullet as he chucked those JS ____ KS plates for the sporty new HOTT911 plates that go with his new Porsche… but his ignorance became quite apparent as he drives down PCH on a warm, breezy day with the top down, comb-over waving to all those passing by. Hot and Not, I tell ya.
But then again…Vanity and Insanity… are far too often, subjective.
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
I will be the first one to admit that there are some really good vanity plates out there. People can get pretty creative in making a statement about themselves. A couple of the goodies that I have seen are MYTWUK, SPEDEMN or LAKRFAN. There are also the plates that use the symbols to get their point across… like the one I really like, and should have been on my sister’s car… SH’O’PPER with a Heart symbol for the letter O, for someone who loves to shop; or ‘HAND’EMAN, that is written with a Hand symbol and the word ‘eman’ next to it. Since these people sported Lakers flags, or were attached to a white work truck, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what the vanity plate meant.
But then you get some people that take it to the opposite end of the spectrum where it takes you forever to figure out what the plate actually means... and even then, we still may never get it. Again, let's reiterate that I did NOT take the little yellow bus to school… but when someone almost hits a telephone pole attempting to figure out what the plate actually meant, then it goes into the category of what I now call, the insanity plate.
Here are some other examples of what I think fall under the Insanity plate. Some people just want to see how clever they are and basically use any word, even if it has no personal meaning for them. Why…? That makes absolutely no sense to me. (or cents, for that matter) Do you realize that you are paying a FEE to put some pointless word on your car? Buy a plate and pour your heart out! Don’t we have enough in our lives that is meaningless? I would avoid using those embarrassing words PHATFRE, unless of course you are… fat free on both counts, because the woman I saw driving was PHATFUL and not because she was PHAT and a bag of chips. She was all that because of a lot bags of chips.
It’s like people do it simply because they can, like they have somehow tricked the DMV by getting away with word cunning. Cunning language…tee hee.. Like who cares if you got the word NIGHT on your car, I mean, DUH. Unless it’s your name, what’s the point; unless you are an astronomer, what’s the point of putting “URANUS” on your license plate. Oh… hahahaha… that one I got.
But here is the biggest peeve for me: those confessions of love…. The plates with just the initials like JS ____ KS or the plate that has a heart in the middle of the letters, DM and GJ. I mean, I got that James Smith married Kim Smith, and Gina loves Derek sooo much that she needs to drive around in her car with her proclamation of love written on it BUT why not save yourself a few bucks and a lot of embarrassment?
See, my question is, if it's not Derek's car, or James didn't ask you to write your plate in that order, well... it looks kind of… I hate to say it but... a little pathetic. See, here is the skinny... (are ya paying attention PHAT?) When us drivers look into your car after the intrigue of reading your plate, it's like the bubble of our illusion has been burst and we have been catapulted back to reality. Hard!
Why add the guy’s initials first, instead of saying like it is… Kim, if it's your car... just say that you love James. Does it validate the marriage more to write James first? Because Kim, we all are thinking that perhaps this is your way of telling yourself, (and everyone who will listen) that 'James loves... er, loved, you,’ and that maybe you aren’t even sure anymore.
Let me ask you something... Did you ask yourself… Hey, what happens if we split? If we divorce? Then you now have to drive around with the fact that ‘James once loved Kim;’ but James now owns a Porsche and has moved on to a daily ritual of Viagra and Rogaine for his new life with Emma. I mean, it’s not like we can cross it out and start over. Nope. You bought ‘em, you live with them. Then again, I guess you can divvy ‘em up in the divorce settlement.
It’s kind of the same thing for those star crossed lovers, Derek and Gina… I am sorry. Truly... truly sorry but if it’s not Derek’s car (judging by the driver) it probably wasn’t James' idea to get those plates; therefore, all of us in bubble-land are thinking that those are probably the plates that stem from low self-esteem; Gina made sure that the whole world knew they were together but divulged even more information as she entered onto the walkway of shame as she turned in the plates to her local DMV.
So I guess the moral of this story kiddies, is to never put anything in writing, or metal, that you can’t easily undo, reverse, or get out of… without costing yourself money, time, or further embarrassment. Ask yourself some very important questions first. Is this going to make me look Hot, or Not?
There is a very thin line between sporting Vanity plates or Insanity plates, and it usually stems from our over-inflated egos, and all-to-hidden agenda based on insecurity unless you just want to pay more money to your local DMV. Just ask James who thought he dodged that bullet as he chucked those JS ____ KS plates for the sporty new HOTT911 plates that go with his new Porsche… but his ignorance became quite apparent as he drives down PCH on a warm, breezy day with the top down, comb-over waving to all those passing by. Hot and Not, I tell ya.
But then again…Vanity and Insanity… are far too often, subjective.
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
As Seen on TV
You know they say that television will warped the brain. But I have to tell you that after spending the past few weeks on hyper-drive trying to make deadlines, it was actually TV that gave me some reprieve. It was a joke that made me laugh hysterically.
What do you get when you mix Xanax with Viagra?
A bore that won’t go away.
Have you met any of those?
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
What do you get when you mix Xanax with Viagra?
A bore that won’t go away.
Have you met any of those?
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
"Two Cars Per Green"
Ok people... I hate to be a bitch but when you are coming up the freeway onramp and you come across the traffic flow light that says Two Cars Per Green ... it means exactly that... TWO CARS PER GREEN. Just because a yellow light appears after the first car passes, trust me... they still mean what they said.. Two Cars Per Green can merge onto the freeway during this green light sequence.
It's hilarious to watch how spastic people are when they stop for the light... (although not for those behind them waiting) the light is green so they go, then the yellow appears ... and they stop.. then they start to go again, no wait, pause.. most people will wait for the next green in order to not get caught. Get caught? By whom? DUH. Read the sign.
Pull out your fingers... One, Two. Go.
GO!
GO ALREADY!
I swear they made that yellow light there just to dick with our heads. It's like watching a deer get caught in headlights...
Geez...
It's hilarious to watch how spastic people are when they stop for the light... (although not for those behind them waiting) the light is green so they go, then the yellow appears ... and they stop.. then they start to go again, no wait, pause.. most people will wait for the next green in order to not get caught. Get caught? By whom? DUH. Read the sign.
Pull out your fingers... One, Two. Go.
GO!
GO ALREADY!
I swear they made that yellow light there just to dick with our heads. It's like watching a deer get caught in headlights...
Geez...
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Welcome Folks, This is Earth School ~Part One
There were some lessons learned this week... mostly about the person that I am and the person that I want to be. So here it is in a nutshell: Teamwork, people not coming through, challenges, perseverance, and in the end… fulfillment. Challenges were met and it felt great! Oh, and there was a bit of revenge but I will leave that for later.
This big epiphany came this week when I had an assignment that I had to work on with a partner. I will admit I am a bit of a control freak, but I think I work well with other people when I am controlling them. But the point is to get the job done, right?Well, it wasn’t just as easy as that. My partner, lets call her Mia, for 'Missing in Action.' Mia didn’t show up for any part of the project, she was unavailable for meetings, for taping, she neglected to contact the interviewees, I mean come on... what's an interview without people?
For three weeks, I worked diligently on this project. I put in many hours trying to set up interviews and then taping. And for each segment, Mia had some reason or another as to why she was unavailable. I literally could have written one of those mini-books that you buy at Walgreen's with all of many reasons she had for not showing up. The bottom line was that I had a job to do, and I was going to get it done.
About a week into my feeding frenzy and several unanswered emails and phone calls, I finally got an email from her the morning of the deadline saying, I wont be here this morning... I have a doctor's appointment but I am pretty good with the software (knowing I am not..) so we can just bang it out when I get there. (an hour before deadline!) My frustration wasn’t all Mia's fault though. I had just been transferred to work with Mia because my last partner did the very same thing for the past 6 weeks. So she was kind of paying for the sins of the father, Mio.
So when Mia emailed me on deadline day now ready to work on the assignment, it wasn’t so much what she said that pissed me off, but how she said it. She was like 'all nice,’ completely clueless as to there ever having been an issue... like everything was hunky dory... hey... how is everything going? This is Mia. I have a doctor's appointment but I will be there when I am ready to show up and save the day. But it's ok, we will just do this, and of course, I will take half the credit.. Are you serious? Three weeks worth of work and you are going to walk in and take half of the credit for this assignment? I don’t think so. To me, that was beyond my scope of respect which of course meant that Mia was about to experience a 'Come to Jesus" moment.
I wrote her an email back telling her that, "out of my stress, and your inconsideration, I spent the past three days straight working on this assignment simply because it needed to be done and when I didn’t hear from you .. I did it myself. Well I hadn’t really finished it but it was close and my bitchy side really didn’t want her to waltz in and get credit for all of my blood, sweat, and tears. I got a little help from my friends and learned enough to be dangerous and much like my sex life, I faked it until I made it and I got the interview done! YEA ME!
So back to the email.. still reeling from emotion from Mia's inconsideration and incredible ego, and for making the mistake of underestimating me... so I let her have it. She herself gave me all of the ammo I need to take her out as I pointed out all of the excuses, and the lack of her work contribution, failure to respond, and the lack of contacts she made, not to mention the audacity she had coming with her response that came in oh so, so casually ... like there was no issue. When I wrote her back, I cc'd the boss along with this statement... welcome to Earth school.
I get that life happens and people have issues, I do and I try to be compassionate, but at one point do you say HEY... enough is enough. I am not a doormat, and honestly, in some ways I felt the best thing I could do for her was to be honest. Maybe in some small way, she will take something from this. Had she at least communicated with me (something other then whining and excuses) things would have been different. I really am a big ‘ole softie. Take a poke at my hips as proof.
Then I started to think… and think… and think. Is this the person I really wanted to be? Not to say I want to be a doormat, but I realized that I didn’t have to be a bitch about this whole thing and I could have handled my response to her maybe a little bit differently because I did get something from this interaction as well.
In the hours that I had to put this project together and I learned more about the program. I was critiqued on my own, which again, showed me the mirror of some things that I needed to see on my own job skills. And most importantly, I hung in there and met the challenge. And even through the tears… I didn't give up. The exuberance I felt was worth it. Because in the end, I was truly proud of the fact that despite as many times I was frustrated, almost to the point of tears, I hung in there; and I did it, regardless, err in spite, of Mia.
Had I handled this any differently, I would have been condoning the doormat behavior, which isn’t me, and not at all empowering. And by the time I walked away from this project, I was proud of myself. Maybe I didn’t have to take Mia out, verbally that is.
So all in all, maybe this was a good thing... and we both got a lesson learned from Chapter 413 in the intricate study of human beings playing together here on Earth School...
This big epiphany came this week when I had an assignment that I had to work on with a partner. I will admit I am a bit of a control freak, but I think I work well with other people when I am controlling them. But the point is to get the job done, right?Well, it wasn’t just as easy as that. My partner, lets call her Mia, for 'Missing in Action.' Mia didn’t show up for any part of the project, she was unavailable for meetings, for taping, she neglected to contact the interviewees, I mean come on... what's an interview without people?
For three weeks, I worked diligently on this project. I put in many hours trying to set up interviews and then taping. And for each segment, Mia had some reason or another as to why she was unavailable. I literally could have written one of those mini-books that you buy at Walgreen's with all of many reasons she had for not showing up. The bottom line was that I had a job to do, and I was going to get it done.
About a week into my feeding frenzy and several unanswered emails and phone calls, I finally got an email from her the morning of the deadline saying, I wont be here this morning... I have a doctor's appointment but I am pretty good with the software (knowing I am not..) so we can just bang it out when I get there. (an hour before deadline!) My frustration wasn’t all Mia's fault though. I had just been transferred to work with Mia because my last partner did the very same thing for the past 6 weeks. So she was kind of paying for the sins of the father, Mio.
So when Mia emailed me on deadline day now ready to work on the assignment, it wasn’t so much what she said that pissed me off, but how she said it. She was like 'all nice,’ completely clueless as to there ever having been an issue... like everything was hunky dory... hey... how is everything going? This is Mia. I have a doctor's appointment but I will be there when I am ready to show up and save the day. But it's ok, we will just do this, and of course, I will take half the credit.. Are you serious? Three weeks worth of work and you are going to walk in and take half of the credit for this assignment? I don’t think so. To me, that was beyond my scope of respect which of course meant that Mia was about to experience a 'Come to Jesus" moment.
I wrote her an email back telling her that, "out of my stress, and your inconsideration, I spent the past three days straight working on this assignment simply because it needed to be done and when I didn’t hear from you .. I did it myself. Well I hadn’t really finished it but it was close and my bitchy side really didn’t want her to waltz in and get credit for all of my blood, sweat, and tears. I got a little help from my friends and learned enough to be dangerous and much like my sex life, I faked it until I made it and I got the interview done! YEA ME!
So back to the email.. still reeling from emotion from Mia's inconsideration and incredible ego, and for making the mistake of underestimating me... so I let her have it. She herself gave me all of the ammo I need to take her out as I pointed out all of the excuses, and the lack of her work contribution, failure to respond, and the lack of contacts she made, not to mention the audacity she had coming with her response that came in oh so, so casually ... like there was no issue. When I wrote her back, I cc'd the boss along with this statement... welcome to Earth school.
I get that life happens and people have issues, I do and I try to be compassionate, but at one point do you say HEY... enough is enough. I am not a doormat, and honestly, in some ways I felt the best thing I could do for her was to be honest. Maybe in some small way, she will take something from this. Had she at least communicated with me (something other then whining and excuses) things would have been different. I really am a big ‘ole softie. Take a poke at my hips as proof.
Then I started to think… and think… and think. Is this the person I really wanted to be? Not to say I want to be a doormat, but I realized that I didn’t have to be a bitch about this whole thing and I could have handled my response to her maybe a little bit differently because I did get something from this interaction as well.
In the hours that I had to put this project together and I learned more about the program. I was critiqued on my own, which again, showed me the mirror of some things that I needed to see on my own job skills. And most importantly, I hung in there and met the challenge. And even through the tears… I didn't give up. The exuberance I felt was worth it. Because in the end, I was truly proud of the fact that despite as many times I was frustrated, almost to the point of tears, I hung in there; and I did it, regardless, err in spite, of Mia.
Had I handled this any differently, I would have been condoning the doormat behavior, which isn’t me, and not at all empowering. And by the time I walked away from this project, I was proud of myself. Maybe I didn’t have to take Mia out, verbally that is.
So all in all, maybe this was a good thing... and we both got a lesson learned from Chapter 413 in the intricate study of human beings playing together here on Earth School...
Big Ass Cars...
This morning, I am leaving the school after dropping my son off, and I come up to the end of the block and I need to turn right. Should be an easy task, right? Well, it's not. It took me having to wait for three cars, an extra five minutes out of my life, because I had to wait for these big ass cars to make a left hand turn. Once the first car went, I thought, great, here is my chance, and before I could wait for his big ole ass to move out of blocking my view, there came another one. And then there was another one turning left onto my street, all the while, another big ass car moved there into the left hand turn lane, once again, blocking my view. I sat... and waited. and finally, it was there, a red light to the right, which meant, you got it, blockage... and I looked up to the left to check for clearance and son of a bitch, another big ass car. Ugh! It's kind of like going to the movies where the person sitting in front of you is over six feet tall or wearing a cowboy hat.
Unfortunately, I can't see what traffic is coming towards me with these big ass cars in the way. It's not like this is a difficult task, it's just frustrating... and thank God that I had just dropped my son off, rather than be picking him up because the school of language he would have been learning might not have been on any of the appropriate lists.
I learned a long time ago that my son is a little parrot. And even though he is waaay back there in the car seat, from waaay back there in the car seat, he is listening... and watching. diligently, I might add. Cuz one day, the idiot in front of me pulled out and cut us off, and before I could utter the words.... "What are you thinking Stupid Idiot ..." came a rolling right out of his little mouth, the very mouth of an angel, causing me to NEVER AGAIN say ANYTHING derogatory in the car with my children. Well almost.
But I digress...
What is it with people who drive those big ass cars? I don't get it. I know that are families are big and we have more stuff, and for some reason, we all feel like we have to take that stuff with us everywhere. Do we really need more stuff, seriously?
See, your big ass car is more than just blocking our view, it's having the nerve to have tv's in the car because kids certainly don’t get enough tv time at home.. and now I have to watch their kids sitting quieting in the back seat watching television, while my kids are asking me ‘eighteen different questions per hour’ about the same subject matter. I call this “EDQPH” for those who just tuned in.
Then there’s the parking. Your big ass car doesn’t fit in the space, and I am not just talking about those size 7 spaces that you are trying to get your size 11 shoes, er, cars in… those normal size spaces that when we return back to our cars, we have dings up and down the sides of our doors as you and your children hop back in those big ass cars to get back to regular programming.
And you know what’s even worse... those menacing cars at night … lights searing straight into your eyes, into the depths of your soul... causing temporary blindness. You KNOW they are doing it on purpose.
So my solution to all of this simply is... We should all go to the movies and stalk the people who drive these big ass cars.... and then purposely wear a cowboy hat and sit right in front of THEM! And when they have the nerve to say anything to us, we simply turn around and say...
I will take off my hat if you never again block me with your big ass car!
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Unfortunately, I can't see what traffic is coming towards me with these big ass cars in the way. It's not like this is a difficult task, it's just frustrating... and thank God that I had just dropped my son off, rather than be picking him up because the school of language he would have been learning might not have been on any of the appropriate lists.
I learned a long time ago that my son is a little parrot. And even though he is waaay back there in the car seat, from waaay back there in the car seat, he is listening... and watching. diligently, I might add. Cuz one day, the idiot in front of me pulled out and cut us off, and before I could utter the words.... "What are you thinking Stupid Idiot ..." came a rolling right out of his little mouth, the very mouth of an angel, causing me to NEVER AGAIN say ANYTHING derogatory in the car with my children. Well almost.
But I digress...
What is it with people who drive those big ass cars? I don't get it. I know that are families are big and we have more stuff, and for some reason, we all feel like we have to take that stuff with us everywhere. Do we really need more stuff, seriously?
See, your big ass car is more than just blocking our view, it's having the nerve to have tv's in the car because kids certainly don’t get enough tv time at home.. and now I have to watch their kids sitting quieting in the back seat watching television, while my kids are asking me ‘eighteen different questions per hour’ about the same subject matter. I call this “EDQPH” for those who just tuned in.
Then there’s the parking. Your big ass car doesn’t fit in the space, and I am not just talking about those size 7 spaces that you are trying to get your size 11 shoes, er, cars in… those normal size spaces that when we return back to our cars, we have dings up and down the sides of our doors as you and your children hop back in those big ass cars to get back to regular programming.
And you know what’s even worse... those menacing cars at night … lights searing straight into your eyes, into the depths of your soul... causing temporary blindness. You KNOW they are doing it on purpose.
So my solution to all of this simply is... We should all go to the movies and stalk the people who drive these big ass cars.... and then purposely wear a cowboy hat and sit right in front of THEM! And when they have the nerve to say anything to us, we simply turn around and say...
I will take off my hat if you never again block me with your big ass car!
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Kate's Fox Trot?
Did you get a chance to see the new season of Dancing with the Stars? I don't generally watch this show, but I saw a commercial and was absolutely fascinated by Kate Gosselin.
Why, do you ask? Well maybe you didn't ask but you are here so I might as well tell you anyway. I have never seen anyone dance as badly as Kate. BADLY. She was so stiff that it looked like it actually hurt. It hurt me to watch; and yet, it was one of those situations where I was fascinated and for the life of me, I couldn't turn away.
In the end... I concluded that Kate was not really doing the Fox Trot... but the Robot.
So what do YOU think? Take a moment and vote in the POLL.
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Why, do you ask? Well maybe you didn't ask but you are here so I might as well tell you anyway. I have never seen anyone dance as badly as Kate. BADLY. She was so stiff that it looked like it actually hurt. It hurt me to watch; and yet, it was one of those situations where I was fascinated and for the life of me, I couldn't turn away.
In the end... I concluded that Kate was not really doing the Fox Trot... but the Robot.
So what do YOU think? Take a moment and vote in the POLL.
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Slap in the FaceBook
Recently I had an interesting experience with Social Networking. Apparently it’s not that social.
I have been doing a lot of promotion for the (watch out for the shameless plug here...) Days of our Lives Charity Events that are happening in Dallas (April 17th) and LA in June 5th. http://www.dayscharityevents.com/. And... I got a bit of a promotion at the station... yea me! I will now be helping out with the Social Networking at x1039.
I decided to practice a little of this ‘Social Networking biz’ and I added some friends. I started to get the hang of it so I added events for the Days Charity Event in Dallas, Twittering this, FaceBooking that… accepting fan pages, then building fan pages. Baby I was on a roll! And like those pre-approved credit cards you get in the mail, I even had FaceBook offering me suggestions. I was doing it all… Adding more events, gathering more fan pages, and adding even more friends… So many friends that this little red box popped up on the screen. WARNING... DANGER, DANGER WILL ROGERS… YOU ARE GOING TO FAST.
I am not all that knowledgeable, about FaceBook, I will admit it. In fact, my theory is that I know enough to be dangerous. And apparently this is true because I actually killed off two profiles off in a single keystroke.
In my process of adding all of my new buddies and making all of these posts, someone recognized me and she filed a report and said I was a fake. I had two profiles with the same pic. Little did I know that in those loving suggestions to feed me chocolate… here, eat, it’s good, very good.. through those tantalizing suggestions by FaceBook, I added someone from one profile name, and picked up the suggestion as FaceBook raided my underwear drawer, pulling out the suggestion of that duplicate name;and because this blonde actually read those notices, she turned me in as being fake as she recognized the beauty that befell her in my picture.
FAKE! I had two different names so she called me a fake. I know who this person is because she had the decency to email me to my face as she called me a fake, (although ironically this is absolutely hilarious because she, Ms. 4-letter name for a US car maker, but not Chrysler, is (ahem) not real by any means of the name, hair color, or um breastesses, which was scientifically proven by the fact that she is not blonde because if you scroll up to read, I mentioned that she actually read the notices) but I digress, Ms 4-letter name for a US car maker, but not Chrysler did a hit and run, turning each one of the profiles into FaceBook, and then blocking me so I couldn’t even respond. And in that one quick slap, she did a whole lot of damage as months of work spent trying to become a social butterfly, all went down the down.
Everything was lost on both S**** B*** and Morgana Reeves, the Radio Personality and Voice Talent name I that use, because here in Hollyweird, we don’t use our real names. What irritates me more is that FaceBook went off of the assumption that because I have two accounts (and two tax id numbers to go right along with them… ) that my very real personalities, are fake... and FaceBook shut both of my profiles down; yet there are eighteen Christopher Walken’s and countless Blair Waldorf’s and… WAIT… isn’t that a character?
Good luck trying to get someone live to help you. It is ironic how they, FaceBook now turned FakeBusters, put all of this time into making certain that we are not computers, yet their computer software devised this system to go into our computers, only to pull out the very ammunition that they barred me for. After my recent experience, I’m not 100% sure that they are themselves... real. In fact, when I finally got a hold of someone in the customer service department, it was through an email by a gentleman who went by the name of Fred. And oddly, it was Fred who also responded to the two other emails I sent in relation to my original inquiry and subsequent follow-up. Maybe the “F” in FaceBook secretly stands for FredsBook. By George, er I mean Fred, I think we got it.
Well, being an optimist, I subscribe to the theory that if life gives you lemons, you make lemonade or at least have some pie so I decided to let my personal life stay personal and create a new profile under Morgana and connect it to my brand new blog that ties in with my radio personality. I created a Fan Page, networking everything to Twitter and to the Blogspot, Opinion8d1, the inner musings of Morgana Reeves. It was a project I was already in the process of creating… so I suppose Spirit knocked on the door and this is me answering.
If you are interested, please re-friend me at FakeBusters or FredsBook, whichever it is these days, under the name Opinion8d1, so we can continue our evil doings; or Twitter me ‘cause I could always use a good Twitter… what about you? Come check out the blog and feel free to chime in with your comments to share some of the inner workings seeping from your brain, or just pass it along to others. Opinion8d1 http://www.opinion8d1.blogspot.com/ It’s like I said… someone has to do it!
Topics include: Seriously?, Traffic Etiquette, Truth or Dare, Déjà Vu, and OMG, and Did you SEE what she was wearing?!? And much, much more!
Regards from the old me and the new and improved… Morgana Reeves
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
I have been doing a lot of promotion for the (watch out for the shameless plug here...) Days of our Lives Charity Events that are happening in Dallas (April 17th) and LA in June 5th. http://www.dayscharityevents.com/. And... I got a bit of a promotion at the station... yea me! I will now be helping out with the Social Networking at x1039.
I decided to practice a little of this ‘Social Networking biz’ and I added some friends. I started to get the hang of it so I added events for the Days Charity Event in Dallas, Twittering this, FaceBooking that… accepting fan pages, then building fan pages. Baby I was on a roll! And like those pre-approved credit cards you get in the mail, I even had FaceBook offering me suggestions. I was doing it all… Adding more events, gathering more fan pages, and adding even more friends… So many friends that this little red box popped up on the screen. WARNING... DANGER, DANGER WILL ROGERS… YOU ARE GOING TO FAST.
I am not all that knowledgeable, about FaceBook, I will admit it. In fact, my theory is that I know enough to be dangerous. And apparently this is true because I actually killed off two profiles off in a single keystroke.
In my process of adding all of my new buddies and making all of these posts, someone recognized me and she filed a report and said I was a fake. I had two profiles with the same pic. Little did I know that in those loving suggestions to feed me chocolate… here, eat, it’s good, very good.. through those tantalizing suggestions by FaceBook, I added someone from one profile name, and picked up the suggestion as FaceBook raided my underwear drawer, pulling out the suggestion of that duplicate name;and because this blonde actually read those notices, she turned me in as being fake as she recognized the beauty that befell her in my picture.
FAKE! I had two different names so she called me a fake. I know who this person is because she had the decency to email me to my face as she called me a fake, (although ironically this is absolutely hilarious because she, Ms. 4-letter name for a US car maker, but not Chrysler, is (ahem) not real by any means of the name, hair color, or um breastesses, which was scientifically proven by the fact that she is not blonde because if you scroll up to read, I mentioned that she actually read the notices) but I digress, Ms 4-letter name for a US car maker, but not Chrysler did a hit and run, turning each one of the profiles into FaceBook, and then blocking me so I couldn’t even respond. And in that one quick slap, she did a whole lot of damage as months of work spent trying to become a social butterfly, all went down the down.
Everything was lost on both S**** B*** and Morgana Reeves, the Radio Personality and Voice Talent name I that use, because here in Hollyweird, we don’t use our real names. What irritates me more is that FaceBook went off of the assumption that because I have two accounts (and two tax id numbers to go right along with them… ) that my very real personalities, are fake... and FaceBook shut both of my profiles down; yet there are eighteen Christopher Walken’s and countless Blair Waldorf’s and… WAIT… isn’t that a character?
Good luck trying to get someone live to help you. It is ironic how they, FaceBook now turned FakeBusters, put all of this time into making certain that we are not computers, yet their computer software devised this system to go into our computers, only to pull out the very ammunition that they barred me for. After my recent experience, I’m not 100% sure that they are themselves... real. In fact, when I finally got a hold of someone in the customer service department, it was through an email by a gentleman who went by the name of Fred. And oddly, it was Fred who also responded to the two other emails I sent in relation to my original inquiry and subsequent follow-up. Maybe the “F” in FaceBook secretly stands for FredsBook. By George, er I mean Fred, I think we got it.
Well, being an optimist, I subscribe to the theory that if life gives you lemons, you make lemonade or at least have some pie so I decided to let my personal life stay personal and create a new profile under Morgana and connect it to my brand new blog that ties in with my radio personality. I created a Fan Page, networking everything to Twitter and to the Blogspot, Opinion8d1, the inner musings of Morgana Reeves. It was a project I was already in the process of creating… so I suppose Spirit knocked on the door and this is me answering.
If you are interested, please re-friend me at FakeBusters or FredsBook, whichever it is these days, under the name Opinion8d1, so we can continue our evil doings; or Twitter me ‘cause I could always use a good Twitter… what about you? Come check out the blog and feel free to chime in with your comments to share some of the inner workings seeping from your brain, or just pass it along to others. Opinion8d1 http://www.opinion8d1.blogspot.com/ It’s like I said… someone has to do it!
Topics include: Seriously?, Traffic Etiquette, Truth or Dare, Déjà Vu, and OMG, and Did you SEE what she was wearing?!? And much, much more!
Regards from the old me and the new and improved… Morgana Reeves
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Nerve of that Woman
People are unbelievable. I have a friend who sent me a link of her daughter's website. She is a lovely 25 year old girl who had a desire to start a business making cupcakes. Not just any cupcakes, these are fantastically clever and quite frankly, works of art!
So I, being the friend that I am, passed along the link of her blog to some of my friends. In the blog, the baby entrepreneur talks about her labor of love in following this dream. I give her props for putting herself out there. Most wouldn’t. In fact, I think I indirectly met one of those people.
About an hour later, I get an email response from a friend. It seems that someone she had sent the link to had a few things to say. All negative.
She started the response with… “I don’t mean to be rude,” and then went on to blast the website because of a picture of the girl’s freezer in the background on the blog. When you zoom into the picture, it creates the photo so large that you can’t help but see the side of the freezer, in fact, you have to scroll over to get to the part of the picture that actually shows the cupcakes.
The woman, I will anonymously refer to as “lady,” instructed her friends to go to a picture to see how "filthy" she found the freezer to be. She went on to say she would never buy products from this business, and she should tell the business owner to replace the freezer.
Ummm, seriously? Even with her instructions, it took me a few minutes to even find what she was referring to and when I finally found it, I was thinking, ‘her freezer was way cleaner than mine.’ Wow... does this woman have issues, or what?
My issue wasn’t so much about pointing out the freezer. I think she did baby entrepreneur a favor because it was an easy fix. It was her insensitive and over the top response…
Per her words…”Well I don't mean to be rude, but.” Oh come on, don’t we know by now that but negates every word that comes before the “but!...” I will be. And because I have now used this disclaimer, it is perfectly alright for me to be rude. Ahem. Yea. Get a life lady. You... IMHO... obviously need a life, some fun, maybe you need to get a little sumpin, sumpin… you felt that your response was ok; instead of contacting baby entrepreneur directly, it was better to blast her publicly, or not so publicly, because you didn't have the balls… to leave your life, to have one, to get a little sumpin, sumpin.
Lady, you are a piece of work. How much time at work did you spend on this personal vengeance… from the time spent going over the website, and obviously long enough to critique something that took me 5 minutes to find with your direction, (no, I didn’t ride the yellow bus) while you sent an email to your friends. (with your name and the title of your company... yes, my evil side said maybe I should send this to her boss) Wow, nothing like calling someone out on their work, eh?
But then again, I guess you get paid to read personal emails about cupcakes and write slanderous emails.
And last but not least, why don’t you send me a picture of your freezer so we can email it to all of our friends. Pu-lease.
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
So I, being the friend that I am, passed along the link of her blog to some of my friends. In the blog, the baby entrepreneur talks about her labor of love in following this dream. I give her props for putting herself out there. Most wouldn’t. In fact, I think I indirectly met one of those people.
About an hour later, I get an email response from a friend. It seems that someone she had sent the link to had a few things to say. All negative.
She started the response with… “I don’t mean to be rude,” and then went on to blast the website because of a picture of the girl’s freezer in the background on the blog. When you zoom into the picture, it creates the photo so large that you can’t help but see the side of the freezer, in fact, you have to scroll over to get to the part of the picture that actually shows the cupcakes.
The woman, I will anonymously refer to as “lady,” instructed her friends to go to a picture to see how "filthy" she found the freezer to be. She went on to say she would never buy products from this business, and she should tell the business owner to replace the freezer.
Ummm, seriously? Even with her instructions, it took me a few minutes to even find what she was referring to and when I finally found it, I was thinking, ‘her freezer was way cleaner than mine.’ Wow... does this woman have issues, or what?
My issue wasn’t so much about pointing out the freezer. I think she did baby entrepreneur a favor because it was an easy fix. It was her insensitive and over the top response…
Per her words…”Well I don't mean to be rude, but.” Oh come on, don’t we know by now that but negates every word that comes before the “but!...” I will be. And because I have now used this disclaimer, it is perfectly alright for me to be rude. Ahem. Yea. Get a life lady. You... IMHO... obviously need a life, some fun, maybe you need to get a little sumpin, sumpin… you felt that your response was ok; instead of contacting baby entrepreneur directly, it was better to blast her publicly, or not so publicly, because you didn't have the balls… to leave your life, to have one, to get a little sumpin, sumpin.
Lady, you are a piece of work. How much time at work did you spend on this personal vengeance… from the time spent going over the website, and obviously long enough to critique something that took me 5 minutes to find with your direction, (no, I didn’t ride the yellow bus) while you sent an email to your friends. (with your name and the title of your company... yes, my evil side said maybe I should send this to her boss) Wow, nothing like calling someone out on their work, eh?
But then again, I guess you get paid to read personal emails about cupcakes and write slanderous emails.
And last but not least, why don’t you send me a picture of your freezer so we can email it to all of our friends. Pu-lease.
Copyright © Shelli Buhr 2010
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