Yesterday in NY it was 90 degrees. I remember about 2 weeks earlier I had the heat on, and now…. Melting. So I decided I was going to take a stand and not turn on the AC.
At 9pm my partner had fallen asleep on the couch and I was in the bedroom just a hot sticky whining mess. I decided to freeze my water bottle for a little while and while I was at the fridge I spotted a Corona.
I drank it and then fell asleep. At 5 am I woke up stickier than taffy and smelled like I hadn’t worn deodorant in 5 years. I took my pup out, took a shower and waltzed my ass to the AC and put it on high.
Was in the area of a Dunkin Donuts and decided to stop in to see how it was doing.
Like an old boyfriend, I just wanted to check in and make sure they were still up and running. As you know, my new love is Starbucks.
I ordered an onion bagel, chocolate frosted with sprinkles, and a glazed donut.
The bagel was good, yet I was disappointed that they didn’t put the cream cheese on the bagel. Now it’s a do it yourself type of thing. Weird. Also the donuts were severed in their own little container. Which makes them super cute, but super wasteful. Whatever happened to the days of putting multiple donuts in one bag?
Overall, it was a nice treat, but I still think Starbucks is the way to go
I like to eat food. I really like sitting somewhere quiet while I’m eating so I can focus on my meal and the flavors embossing my mouth. It’s really a hobby of mine.
The other day I was in a cafeteria and this young lady was really enjoying her meal. She had some sort of a juicy looking burger that really seemed to be giving her pleasure. It makes me happy to see other people happy. I also love to eat other people’s food with my eyes. So the lady and I were really enjoying her lunch.
As this lady and I were about to finish her meal another young lady came by and sat down next to her. You know I’m noisy so I decided to listen in.
The burger eating gal’s friend asked her where she got the burger and our burger girl excitedly answered back.
The new girl gave a disgusted look and as loud as possible said “Oh! That place is DISGUSTING!”. Our burger girl’s face instantly dropped as well did the burger from our hands.
Feeling like I just ate this burger myself I felt pretty hurt that this lady not only insulted the meal, but attempted to embarrass this girl in front of the whole cafeteria. How rude.
I constantly feel confused as to how others feel like their reactions and responses to people are appropriate. There is a time and a place for everything. This was not one of those times.
I know I’m a sensitive girl, but I would honestly feel nasty if someone said something like that about my food, especially after I already ate majority of it. As women we already have a struggle with allowing ourselves that cheat meal. Let’s be supportive of each other and find better ways to express our feelings without making others uncomfortable.
For the longest time now I’ve lived with acne. It started around when I was 12 with vicious splotchy red blemishes and a forehead that looked like a page from a braille book. To make matters worse I had glasses, braces, and close to 6 feet tall. I looked super awkward.
As I got older I learned how to pop contacts in, my teeth became straighter, and my acne became less vicious and settled into its own groove. Overall I now think I’m beautiful, not because my blemishes corrected itself, but because I began to love myself and all my flaws.
I still have “adult acne” which for the longest I was just hoping it was left over adolescent acne waiting to flee my face and retire. Except, it stayed. Plus, all my old teenage acne that has gone away has left me memories all over my face. In their place is little pigmented scars all over my cheeks and forehead with the occasional pock mark. Instead of feeling upset about it though I just think of them as my battle scars. Overall, I like my complexion and don’t think much of it.
What really weirds me out though is when I go to beauty stores and the first products they want to show me is acne cover ups, weird solutions to acidify my marks away, or weird pastes to put on top of them.
Hold up Lady, I came in here for some lipstick, not acid.
I get it, people are trying to make their sales, help a girl out, but if I don’t ask for help, it’s probably best to not come up and start suggesting products to me. I’m okay with my face and I think some people are more bothered or concerned about it than I am. After I leave those stores it gets me thinking, “wait, is there something wrong with my face?”. But, it’s crazy talk and it’s so easy to let lies of “you’re not good enough” or “you’re not perfect enough” to seep into my mind and take root.
So I usually take a good look at my face and remind myself that God spent so much time creating me and that I’m beautiful flaws and all.
I would hate being the person that had to point at others flaws and uniqueness in order to sell a product. If they have to be so critical of others, I wonder how they feel about themselves? It’s like muscle memory. If you think or do something all day, it’s bound to stay with you and you’ll end up doing that thing without even having to think about it. That’s why it’s so important to cut off those bad, ugly thoughts about yourself and replace them with the truth as to not make a habit of insulting yourself without even being cognizant of it.
Treat yourself nice, even when others are trying to plant seeds of hate within your heart.
For the longest time now I’ve gone back and forth on my beliefs about abortion. My mind tells me that it’s a women’s body and her choice while my heart is desperate to save the baby.
As a woman desperately wanting a baby, one day, it’s hard for me to see people giving up that life. Except, I remember when I was at a different point in my life and the idea of having a baby was scary. I was barely able to take care, feed, or provide shelter for myself so how would I have been able to do that for a baby?
When I say I’ve been on both sides of the fence, I’m not kidding. I spent my teenage years working for a family planning center that did numerous abortions daily. I was taught on the topic and was able to provide guidance for my pregnant peers or those just curious. I strongly believed in a woman having a choice and knowing the options that were available to her. I marched in parades, shouted to the world, and created speeches regarding the women’s rights. I was passionate on protecting my fellow ladies.
Then one day I went to New York City and went to see Bodies: The Exhibition. It was beautiful statues, pictures, and models of the human body. Then in a corner was small models of a growing human fetus. I couldn’t believe the size, the delicateness, the beauty of the human baby growing. It wasn’t just a fetus anymore to me, it was a little baby that had small fingers, little eyes, and maybe one day a person that might change the world.
I was confused with what I believed and what I felt.
Years later this confusion continued until I came to Christ. I felt the conviction and a strong need to protect these growing babies. Although I desperately wanted my fellow women to have a choice I really wanted to give these babies a chance to grow, to live, to make their own choices one day. I went to pro-life dinners, got involved in pro-life discussions, and refused to do panel discussions with my previous job that provided abortions. I flipped my beliefs and although I was still confused to the “right” way, it felt right at the time.
Lots of time went on and more people around me had abortions. My feelings shifted once again to sitting on the fence. I desperately wanted to save the babies while desperately wanting to respect the choices of my fellow sex. How do you pick?
I got into a huge disagreement with a friend about the situation. He was strongly against abortions, believed that those who had one deserved punishment, and had no pity for the women that suffered death from tragic back alley procedures, and believed the babies had more of a right then the women nurturing and growing them. I believed that although I personally wouldn’t have an abortion because it wasn’t right for me, I didn’t want to take that choice away from someone else. The debate became heated and he kept trying to push me into saying abortion was wrong. Wrong for everyone, wrong in the eyes of God, simply wrong, and should be outlawed.
I still couldn’t pick a firm black and white answer. The matter is simply grey to me. I feel so mixed about it that I couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to make a law or firm decision on it for anyone else. I could only make that decision as what was right for me.
Currently in Northern Ireland they’re talking about this choice. It is illegal to have an abortion there, but for those that are wealthy enough are able to travel to England to have this procedure. Is this fair? Is this right?
It leads back to my original thoughts. Save the mother or save the baby? What do you all think?
Something really shitty happened to me recently, my keurig died. Now I don’t actually mean it broke, is not working, unfixable or anything like that. I mean she is dead to me.
So here’s what happened: It was Sunday. On Sunday’s I make a huge breakfast and then have a delish cup of coffee to go with it. So I made the breakfast and then noticed my coffee maker was out of water. So I go to fill it and it looks like sea monkeys are swimming in the tank. Wtf.
So I rinse it, descale it and even google it to figure out what’s going on. According to my google research, the Keurig which has a tank of sitting water, eventually attracts mold. When I looked at the very bottom of the tank, trapped UNDER the mesh part was mold that after descaling 3 times was still there. Also, there’s no way to get to that mesh part. So it’s over.
While it’s been a good couple years…F U KEURIG. You ruined my Sunday.
There’s a tradition us New Yorkers have. When it’s time to go out for a night of fun, we dress to impress. We put on our nicest dresses, highest stilettos, and do our make up to the nines. If your feet don’t hurt by the end of the night, you’re not doing something right
Now, I’m a New Yorker transplanted in Texas trying to adapt to the Western culture. My best friend and I decided to go out to a Country Club last night and my oh my did we stick out like a sore thumb.
As we walked through the parking lot in our little black dresses, click clacking in our stilettos, we noticed that all the girls around us were shuffling around in country boots with little booty shorts on. My friend and I instantly felt out of place and she stated, “well, we sure don’t look like we’re from around here”. Man, was she right about that.
I braced myself as I walked into the building, waiting for someone to make a rude comment (mind you I’m a New Yorker, I expect some sort of hostility from others) and not a single person even gave us a side eye. I instantly felt welcomed. That’s one thing I really like about Southern folks, they really know how to make others feel comfortable and they know how to party with everyone.
After a few hours, my friend pulled me on the dance floor and we were doing some sort of line dances. As I tried to shuffle from left to right, I kept sliding on the floor bumping into the folks concentrating on their “kick, step, hop” groove. I couldn’t help but laugh because I was like Bambi on ice.
Overall, this New Yorker had a great time hanging with the country folks. One thing I love about my life is that I’ve had the opportunity to see many different people and experience numerous different cultures.