Uh, moment of truth: I make a horrible honey badger.

I care.  I’ll admit.  I care!!  I wish I didn’t because caring is the reason I’ve had my heart-broken 6-8 times this year.  I’ve stopped counting.  So ladies, I’m here to admit that I make a horrible horrible honey badger!

My sister on the other hand is the ULTIMATE honey badger!!  She even has a saying for not giving a fuck when someone is annoying her, “CARE!”  And she means it, hardcore.  She can’t even be bothered to say “I don’t” in front of the care, it’s just “CARE!”  She’ll say this to your face, to your back, to your friends, to your dog.  She will straight up “bye Felicia” you and walk away and really truly never look back.  When it comes to men, she’ll wave down a handsome stranger at a bar and invite him to sit with her and THEY ALL DO!  She’ll never utter a word to a man yet pass him a note across the bar then wave and join her friends.  Sooner or later, he’ll always make his way to her table.  Because ladies she is a real honey badger!!  She doesn’t give a shit.  And she never has. **

Is it confidence, bravery, something other-worldly?  I don’t know because I don’t have it.  I don’t have an ounce of it.  I’m the girl who sees a cute guy and trips.  Ask Channing Tatum if you ever run into him.  I’m the girl who knocks off the glass of ice water or runs into the trash can.  I’m the girl who will take a sip of my wine very cool like and spill it down the front of my white dress.  I’m the girl who will make jokes at my own expense because there are plenty to be made.  I’m a walking sitcom.  I care too much about what someone else will think, or how I’ll be perceived, or rather or not someone is going to like me.  When the truth is, if they don’t like you, well, CARE!!  There are many others who will and probably more who won’t.  It’s the crap shoot of life.

However, the older I get the more and more pages I take from my sisters book of “how not to..”  Frankly, life is too short to care that much.  I attribute it to being a very sensitive artist.  Or just sensitive perhaps (I like blaming a LOT on being an artist if you haven’t noticed).  If you look at me wrong I’ll wonder for days what I did to piss you off.  My sister will slap you and take a nap.  If you don’t call me, I’ll again wonder for days what I said or did.  My sister will just delete your number from her phone and make a sandwich.  She will stop taking your calls and texts.  I, on the other hand, am learning the fine art of being silent and caring less (truth be told, I’ll respond to all your calls and texts, I’m a glutton for punishment).  Or… perhaps just valuing myself more and that is simply what I think it comes down to.

My sister has dealt with so much in her life that she gets it.  How much we value ourselves, our time, and our hearts is in direct relation to what we accept and expect of others.  This value theme is something I’ve been discussing a lot with my therapist lately.  Taking care of my heart has never been my priority until now and while I am working on it I keep thinking of the original honey badger, my sister.  My LITTLE sister.  It’s a process but I feel like I’m finally finally taking the right steps to care less because my time matters and my feelings matter and in the grand scheme of life neither can be or should be taken for granted.  So I write.  I distract myself with the things and people I do love and who love me.  And I keep working on “playing it cool.”  And then I say something really dumb but ya know, growing spurts!

 

 

**Although my sister is the poster child for all things honey badgers, she is without a doubt the most generous, loving person you’ll ever meet.  And if you get a chance to be her friend, she’ll be your friend for life.  Until you’re dumb then she ain’t got no time for that.

25 Things you can control right now

1. How many times you’ll hit snooze.  For me, several.  I’m working on the art of waking up because it is certainly an art.
2. Your ability to mask the faint smell on whiskey still on your breath.
3. Are we showering today?  We’re definitely not shaving our legs!
4. Today feels like a red lipstick all day sorta day.
5. Just wear the sexy dress already.
6. Heels or flats?  Heels, zero fucks.
7. Bacon or granola?!?  BACON!
8. Am I going to work or check Facebook first?
9. How many times will I check out _____’s page?
10. Nope, not drying my hair.
11. I will make my bed however.  Never know when you’ll have a last minute guest.
12. I will juice because it’s delicious albeit time consuming.
13. Are we working out today?
14. Working?
15. Playing?
16. Drinking?
17. How many “news” articles you’ll read compared to how many Buzzfeed quizzes you’ll take.
18. Today you are definitely going to do all your check off your to-do list.
19. Exactly how loud you’ll sing in the car.
20. You’re gonna try like hell to drink 80oz of water.
21. If you’ll go down the rabbit hole of disappointments.
22. And how you’ll pick yourself back up.
23. And you’ll be kinder to yourself.
24. And you’ll probably watch at least one rerun of Friends.
25. Then you’ll brush your teeth and go to bed because you aren’t a gross human being.

And tomorrow, tomorrow is another day to do it all over again:  to make better mistakes or dumber choices, to slack, to strive, to conquer, to control, to love, to fight, to grow, to medicate, to cry, to be bolder and wiser.  To be fearless.

A honey badgers meeting of the minds… or how not to give a fuck!

Dear honey badgers,

Let’s all stop giving a fuck, shall we???

HOW TO NOT GIVE A FUCK IS THE PROBLEM-FREE PHILOSOPHY THAT ADVOCATES FOR REPLACING UNPRODUCTIVE EMOTIONS WITH ACQUIRED SELF-KNOWLEDGE, AND FEARLESS PURSUIT OF RATIONALLY DERIVED AMBITIONS AND VIRTUES AS ONE’S PRIMARY OBJECTIVE.

1. Meditate.  Seriously.  Do it at home, do it in public.  Just do it.  Stop thinking.  Pretend you’re Elizabeth Gilbert and this is your Eat, Pray, Love.  NOW PRAY!
2. Someone is always judging you.  Even right now.  Someone wiser than me said some variation of this one time:  What people think of you isn’t your flaw, it’s theirs.
3. Say yes.  Just say yes to whatever and be spontaneous especially if you’re tired and have work to do.   Say yes to one more glass, to dessert, to that date, to that vacation.  Say yes!
4. Remember you’re just one person on a huge planet in a galaxy with many other planets in a universe with many many galaxies in a solar system with many many universes.  PANIC ATTACK, WE’RE TINY!      
5. Do something that scares you.  Share your feelings, take that trip, sign up for that class, swim with sharks.  Scare yourself.
6. If you are reading this, it means you have internet which means you’re doing better than most of the world.  You’re grateful.
7. Expectations are the right hand of disappointment.  Stop having them and just let the moment be extraordinary!
8. Remember that you’re going to die.  TRUTH.  Sorry not sorry!
9. Stop playing games with yourself and others.  (unless they are fun ones like Cards Against Humanity)
10. Remember what is important.  And what isn’t.  And maybe ask yourself, will this matter is 5 days, 5 months, 5 years?  Pretty sure we can just not give a fuck about that.

 

A change is gonna come. BRACE YOURSELF!

Life doesn’t turn out how you like. NBD! So like a normal person you quit your job of 10 years, break up with your boyfriend of 6 years, travel to Europe for 2 months, pack all your belongings and move south. To Texas. To Austin specifically from NYC. How much different can it really be? Oh girl….

I felt the early rumblings of change a year before I … wait… 6 months after my boyfriend of 3 years moved to NYC from Las Vegas, I knew something wasn’t quite right. We kept having the same conversation slash fight slash plead and just to spare you from the same lugubrious conversation I could probably recite from memory, sometimes a man moves in and all the ugly details come to surface. So let’s just fast forward 3 more years because truthfully, I stayed. Whatever issues there were, or weren’t, I stayed and tried and fought and in the end failed. Or dodged a bullet. Depends which day you’re asking. Bang bang. (pffffff) <– that’ me blowing off the gun powder, fyi.

Change doesn’t happen overnight. A friend’s aunt sent her a beautiful thought on change I’d like to share with you: Shifting comes in a myriad of shapes and sizes. Sometimes seismic where in a blink what was to be is tumbled and twirled, reshaped and reformed, lost and found- and within a moment things are new. More often though the experience is incremental- the self in a lowly 360 degree dance of perception- picking and choosing, resisting and accepting, adjusting and evolving- everything on display until one comes full circle and is redone. It seems this time you might be within the dance and the best advice is always to simply enjoy the view. There is always a multitude on display.

They say the only constant thing in life is change.  Pushing back against change leaves you stale, stagnant, incapable of growth and expansion.  Change is hard, don’t get me wrong.  Walking away from people, places, comfort and the old ways of doing things is downright impossible for many people my ex included.  His fear of the great unknown was bigger than the two of us combined.  His fear was so great he was willing and capable of letting me walk out the door because leaving his comfort in the material world was harder than leaving his comfort in matters of the heart.  For me, staying, losing myself and discovering what could have been was scarier than walking away and discovering something new.  However I find little to no comfort in the material world and when I’m in a state of change, material things are the first things I clear out.  I need to declutter and reorganize and make space for the things I want, for the things I desire rather they be love or purpose or companionship.  In the last few months of my relationship with, his discomfort toward change drove him to purchase and fill the space that was missing in our connection.  We were just driven by extremely different versions of change.  I, however, think his drive was misguided.

I first started looking around my life and asking; what is the most important to me right now, what do I need in my life at this moment, who are the people I value that add inspiration to my life, how many pairs of heels do I really need, how many books, how many candles.  I slowly started sifting through it all and filling bags and bags of my old life to be shipped off.  The “stuff” was suffocating me in my panic to discover what the change moving through me was specifically.  The “stuff” hid the transition.  The “stuff” took my attention from my intention.  It all had to go (all is ambitious, I’ll admit).

While this transition was happening in my life, it was also happening in my heart.  I became happy for possibly the first real time in my life.  Funny, isn’t it, how in the depths of change, confusion and transition happiness appears and informs all?  And I changed.  I  am the reason the relationship did not continue.  I became a better, different, newer person and that person desired more, craved a bigger love, a more fulfilled life.  And I refuse to ever feel guilty about that!  I would never say that I was settling for anything previously.  Despite how my relationship turned out, I still think my ex is a great person who is capable of many amazing things and who will, probably much sooner than I, find that person who fits.  However, his reluctance to change and my embrace of change clashed dynamically.

The hope I’ve found in love, or the one I imagine I will find in my next relationship, is to fall in love with someone you can positively change with in a constant evolution of humanity and heart.  I imagine falling in love with someone who encourages that, inspires forward motion, motivates me beyond my wildest imagination.  Once you find someone who makes you feel the impossible is possible, then change is welcomed and embraced without reason.  Because anything, literally, anything is possible.  All the good and all the bad, of course, but you never know the magic that is waiting for you until you jump.  And by that I mean yes in love but also in life, in your heart, in your desire, in your efforts, in your intentions.  Jump!

While I sit still in the throes of adjustment and reflect on how I’ve continued changing or morphing into the person I am today but will probably not be tomorrow, I have certainly learned that although this life isn’t perfect, it’s my life and it’s the only one I get.  If I’m not taking care of myself, I’m doing an huge injustice to my heart and soul.  I must keep pushing forward and being curious to all that is out there.

Robert Frost, welcome to the forest of the 21st Century!

Almost 8 years ago I read a Robert Frost poem at the funeral of my best friend slash soul mate slash disgusting human being Wendy Brantley.  Trust, if you ever met her, you know that disgusting human being is just about as real as it gets.  Drugs, cancer, constipated poo, it’s not pretty and at some point you just get pass the prettiness of being a lady and get right to the point.  She was beautiful and disgusting it the most wonderful way imaginable.

So this poem goes like this, then we’ll pick all of Robert Frost’s bones.  Er… you know what I mean.

The Road Not Taken

BY ROBERT FROST

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Ok, moment of truth, how many “roads” are there?  Sure, there’s the one most of my friends have taken that goes something like this: get a good degree, find Mr. Right (ish), get the job, the house, the car, the kids and bingo.  Set for life, fun stuff, Disney, shoes, sports, teeth, laundry, graduation, etc etc.  That’s the road we’re suppose to take.  The road of “shoulds” as I recently heard it referred to in this amazing article!  But the road less traveled by is literally LITERALLY anything you want it to be.  It could be teaching in Seoul for a few years, taking the slow boat through China, traveling down the coast of Africa and deciding to stay in Mozambique.  It could be moving to NYC to become and actor and while never actually becoming successful, you still had a great time making decisions on various degrees of dumbness.  Maybe your road was going to grad school, then doing your residency and becoming a doctor and STILL listening to people wonder why you aren’t married yet.  Or maybe MAYBE you saved every penny you made since making pizzas at 16 and decided to just travel around the world alone for 10 years meeting like-minded souls along

And pray tell, what do all these fearless wanderers have in common?  The majority of Americans will look upon them with a sigh, a shake of the head and proclaim “we always knew she was different.”  Or something like “marching to her own drum.”  My forest, in the wild conundrum of my life, is littered with hundreds of trails less traveled by and it’s now my responsibility to choose which less traveled road I want to take.  As an American with x amount of privilege and education and funds to continue my education, the responsibility to choose to next road less traveled that will mean something to me and make a difference in this world is a responsibility I’m struggling to unravel daily.  I just made myself laugh out loud because I actually just wrote how I’m struggling with all the amazing choices I have.  HASHTAG MUSTBENICE.  I just guess that at 35, my ripe old age, my next road MUST mean something to me, to those I’m going to meet along the way, to the those I’m leaving behind.  My next road will be the next book in my trilogy, my second life. But discovering the forest full of options is like swimming in an ocean full of gratitude.

I read this quote today and it struck me, “We have two lives and the second starts when we realize we only have one.”  HOLY &*)@!  We all know we only have one life but we don’t really know we have one life until something extraordinary happens.  Otherwise, you’ve realized it too late.  Truthfully, there’s no real secret to determining what it is that you are meant to be doing.  It’s taken me the better part of 20 years to arrive where I am today and if you asked me a year ago, I never would have imagined that this is where I would be.  I recently told my therapist that I’m an optimist often to the point of delusion.  It’s true.  I have the highest of hopes and feel the lowest of lows.  However, after spending a good deal of a few years with a man who felt everything in the middle, I’m beyond thankful for all my ups and downs because I recognize them to a fault.  I embrace them all.

Tinder is the night… Oh boy!

Oh Tinder Tinder Tinder, our small little corner of the world where we continually subject ourselves to an onslaught of disappointment.  You know how easy it is to be a flaky cold fish when you don’t actually know someone, when you’ve never looked into their eyes and utter a single word to them?  It’s pretty easy.  There’s no liability what-so-ever when it comes to online dating.  You can, in a moments notice, decide to eh, screw it, I’ll just get a whiskey with my girlfriends because I KNOW they are gonna show up excited to see me.  The stakes of Tinder are literally zero.  No risk = no reward.  And Tinder perpetuates this with ease repeatedly.  If I don’t show up on this date, the likely hood of me running into this person and us remembering each other is slim to none, even in a small town.  I currently am matched with 87 men.  87!!  I don’t really even remember what the one I’ve been texting looks like and generally scroll back through conversations to remind myself of this guys name, job, location, etc.

Here’s a quick list of what I’ll generally swipe right to: tall, dark hair, built/broad, tattoos, some variation of artist or blue-collar, a pet dog.  It’s really that simple.  Here’s what EVERY guy in Austin wants to include in his bio: works out, likes live music, loves tacos.  WHICH IS EVERY PERSON IN AUSTIN.  Guys, I can’t even anymore.  LIKING TACOS IS WHO YOU ARE?!?!  I digress. I’ll get to their pictures later lord Jesus.

The aforementioned is what I typically find attractive but let me just tell you a bit about the past few men/boys/guys I’ve had feelings for listed most recent to… two years ago (ex included). 1)  tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, lean, no tattoos, intense, medic.  2) short(er), brown hair, eyes undetermined, ripped like a brick house, lots of tattoos, crazy fun person who worked a job.  3) short(er), blonde hair, brown eyes, built, no visible tattoos, dancer.  4) tall, dark hair, blue eyes, average build, no visible tattoos, hilarious comedian.  5) tall, brown hair, brown eyes, in shape, no tattoos, intense, consultant.  6) short(er), dirty blonde hair, bluest eyes, in shape, no tattoos, construction worker.

So the only thing any of these guys have in common is that I assume they’re all guys.  But that’s about it.  Four of the seven will never know that I loved them although I bet two have a pretty good idea.  One I knew for 12 hours, one for 5 minutes, one I dated for 6 years.  In chemistry, err relationships, an invisible force exists that will never been seen online, a certain I-don’t-know that connects people, encourages them to jump (into bed, out of it, into love, out of it) when a spark ignites.  That spark is why we hold ourselves accountable to someone else even if it is for just a moment, a day, or a year.  I’m dumbfounded by my own actions in the online dating world knowing full well that my “type” isn’t even my type at all.  It’s the idea of a type I’ve literally never dated.  Ok I did date my type once but it turns out that he wasn’t really my type at all.  I’ve discovered that my type is a feeling, a connection, a lengthy conversation, a smile, a sunset, a slow dance.  It’s why I’m 100% sure I will never meet him online (in the event I haven’t met him already).  But the pictures online are worth a thousand words so keep on Tinder-ing!!!

1. guy holding dead animal is always my favorite.  SO YOU’RE A KILLER?!?
2. guy pounding a beer.  (because whiskey is too hard to handle?!)
3. guy wearing a mask.  he puts the lotion in the basket.
4. guy selfie in the bathroom from below.  NO ONE, I repeat, NO ONE looks good from this angle.  I get it, you’re trying to look bigger than you are but again, we like all sizes so stop trying to be tall.  NO ONE CARES HOW TALL YOU ARE!!*
5. guy driving while taking selfie.  Ok, you got your license, great news.  NOW DON’T DIE WHILE DRIVING AND TAKING SELFIE!  you idiot.
6. guy selfie with resting bitch face.  Men, it’s ok to smile!  I promise you won’t emasculate yourselves by looking happy.

*ok, maybe it is ok to tell us your height if you are a small person in a big world or a big person in a small world.  There are longitudinal logistics that won’t always work.

Also, maybe stay away from men who post the following two photos on their page:

I’m gonna need a dessert in a skillet tonight!

“Everyone has a game plan until they get punched in the face.” Mike Tyson didn’t teach us much except perhaps this gem which sums up getting-out-of-bed as well as one can.

Today, I lazily roll out of bed 30 minutes past my alarm (The truly sad part of this story is that I now just set my alarm for 30 minutes early like a jerk when I could simply get 30 more minutes of sleep. Instead I’d rather roll around every 8 minutes and subject myself to the strangest dreams that often involve the most unappealing things imaginable. WHY?!) with the intentions of working out, meditating and drinking the first of 6 or so cups of tea. And yet if I actually accomplish the aforementioned, I will be so proud of myself that I’ll immediately scratch “paying bills” and “going to the post office” off my list and opt for a dip in the springs or just… I don’t know, how do we kill time?! Facebook? A kava binder? Playing dress up in our closets full of clothes we purchased on a whim and STILL have nowhere to actually wear them? I used to skim through Facebook so often that I knew when everyone else’s kids poo or started school or which friend was on which diet and who was now using Facebook to sell some new pills or cream or jewel etc. And I can’t anymore, I just can’t with any of it. I’m either incredibly jaded, enlightened, entitled, or a plain ole dick. I’m ok with being a plain ole dick. I think at 35 I’ve certainly earned the right! I’m getting away with myself…

So.. getting punched in the face. We’ve ALL been punched in the face and I’m sure most of us can admit to being punched in the face often times before we leave the house. Doh, that thing I forgot for that person, dammit I’m a jerkface!!! No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be the friend who gets your card in the mail, if at all. I’ll never mail the gift or flowers or money or present. I’m aware of this because I have a sister and a few friends WHO NEVER FORGET anything like this. Ever.  I’m working on it.

You know what my game plan was when I moved to Austin 8 months ago?  Here goes: move to austin, find an AWESOME job, sign with an agent, book an acting job STAT, make hundreds of amazing friends, obviously meet him and fall hopelessly in love, be super happy and world peace.  Guys, NONE OF THAT HAPPEN!!  I got punched in the face, the ovaries, the shins and probably on my left boob because that sounds like it would probably suck.

“Everybody has a game plan…” isn’t necessarily about having your day ruined or your month, your year, your decade.  It’s about being flexible and realizing that we only control so much of our lives, everything else is serendipitous or accidental or the predestined result of whatever religious figure you most align yourself with this year.  Or, I don’t know, just how exactly your life is suppose to go.  When I realized that nothing I’d planned for was panning out, I did what most semi-responsible mid-30 year olds would do; I drank a lot and spent money and made bad decisions and pretended like everything was fine (meanwhile in Pleasantville, I was having panic attacks).  SO… you start over.  You juice.  You do yoga.  You do it one day at a time.  You reflect.  You find your heart.  You locate your pain.  You go to therapy.   You follow the phases of the moon.  **Meanwhile, you continue making bad choices because this is how we learn.  We get back up and try again tomorrow.**  You spend time outdoors.  You set new goals.  You talk to strangers.  You scare yourself.  Again and again and again.  And you write (this blog for instance).  And you LOVE!  No matter how much any of it hurts.  Because you know that loving and loosing is moving through what once was and you know that what you’ll learn from this moment, this hell if you will, is going to inform and shape the person who walks out of this fire alive.  Because that’s the only possible solution to this madness.  And you do it one day at a time.  

Then you go to brunch with your friends and you order a funnel cake covered in Nutella.  Duh.