#MeToo

I guess you can call me an optimist because I thought with this whole Harvey Weinstein thing going on, people would be more aware of what is not acceptable.  Wow was I wrong.

Talked to my friend the other day and in two days she was sexually harassed THREE times!  THREE TIMES!  I mean I get that she’s pretty so guys would want her number, but to say what they have appalls me.

Two of them really stuck out in my head.  First one being while she was freaking GIVING BLOOD.  No joke.  The guy was putting the needle in her arm (and wasn’t focusing on his task because he basically mutilated her arm, poor girl) and asked her if she has any repertory issues.  She said she has asthma and he was like, “Oh, I’ll keep that in mind when I get you in bed.”  Like wtf?  And of course, since the needle was in her arm, she couldn’t just bolt.  Thankfully she reported it.  But still, who taught him that was acceptable?

The other one was when she was at work.  She was grabbing something to bring inside and someone asked if he could ask her a question.  She gets asked stuff all the time at work so was like ok what’s up?  He then asked if she would suck his d*ck!  She threw what she was holding out between them and ran inside to call the police.

Seriously?  I get guys are given pressure to be “macho” but let’s admit it: that’s crossing the line.  It is beyond not acceptable.  It’s not like he was benching 150 pounds to impress her, this was just illegal, and clearly known as to why for most.

The fact that you can’t even give blood without having to be put in such a situation is repulsive.  And it makes me just plain mad.

How about we bring back consideration and teaching respect?  How about instead of pushing people to be a certain way or giving off a certain image we teach them manners and kindness?  I get that a handful of women like the attention from cat calls, but I’ve been cat called and let me tell you, it made me feel like nothing.  I felt small and like my value as a human being didn’t matter.  No lie, I was nearly in tears.  And that’s the tip of the iceberg.

So to all of you out there that have been in that situation or worse, I feel you and am sorry you were in such a predicament.  I can only hope the attention this subject (and worse) are getting will bring this matter to the spotlight and everyone will be able to give blood without the worry of such a matter.

I want this cake for every meal

Peanut Butter Chocolate Triple Layer Cake. Our family is pretty much huge fans of Reese’s peanut butter cups and all things peanut butter and chocolate. So when it came time to celebrate one of my son’s birthdays recently, I was excited to try this Peanut Butter Chocolate Triple Layer Cake recipe I found at Life, […]

via Peanut Butter Chocolate Triple Layer Cake — the creative life in between

The Growth

Thankfully it’s not a tumor, though it can act like one.  It grows and grows until you feel like you can’t get enough air.   It can make you have to go to the hospital and worries your loved ones.

Yes, I’m talking about anxiety.

Last night I kept feeling like it was swelling.   No matter how big it was, I felt like it was consuming the room while squeezing air out of me.  So since it was late, I went outside.

Don’t ask me why, but this always helps.  Being outside in what looks like a black crushed velvet sky with random white Christmas lights poking through, I sat there and felt my anxiety shrink.  There is something about realizing how small you are in the universe that makes your thoughts stop spinning.

So there I sat, until the sound of a dry leaf skidding across the parking lot freaked me out and I went back inside.  I know the probability of me being slaughtered out here is much lower than say The Bronx or Detroit, but still, you can’t help but to worry.

But if it’s a clear night tonight, I’ll do it again.

There is something about staring up at those stars that burned out a long time before you saw them.  It’s like you’re on a big planet, no one else there, and it’s just you and everything out there.

Ok, that and the dry leaf that I was scared was an ax murderer coming to get me.

Why Am I Doing This?

Laptop down, people!  I repeat, laptop down!

As soon as it happened I think you could hear my heart fall into my stomach.

I have had a dream to be an author since I was eight years old and learned that I had a gift to bring people into the world my head had created.   Over the years I’ve let things get in my way: pride, anxiety, depression, family, lack of money, you name it.  But with my birthday looming its long, ugly shadow over me, I have a new wind in me.

That is, until I came to the library and discovered the power cord won’t hook up unless I seriously press it in.  This, my anonymous friends, is where you insert your favorite curse word, cause I sure did.

See, I want to make a difference.  Have since I was a kid.  If I could be compared to any movie character it would be the kid in “Pay It Forward.”  I believe that I can help the homeless person I pass with just a few dimes in change that I have.  I really do feel that if I write a book, I can help someone escape a bad reality or feel like they aren’t alone in the world.  Wouldn’t that be awesome?  Then I can do things with the money I make to make even a bigger difference.  I need my laptop to work.  It’s just got to.

If you couldn’t guess, I’m a dreamer.  My Pinterest boards reflect that as well.

But here I am, trying to figure how to fix my laptop so I can get back to writing because having people constantly looking over my shoulder on a public computer is not helping my creativity.  I have a lot of books to write, and a lot more dedications to put in those books.  My 8th grade English teacher, best friends, Mom, 3rd grade teacher who introduced me to adjectives.  Lots of charities I want to donate to.  Lots of random acts of kindness I need money to do.  And with five nieces and two nephews, I would love to be able to give them at least some money when they go off to college; that’ll happen sooner than I like, I know it.

So here I sit, blasting Rachel Platten’s “Fight Song” so I can block out the little girl shouting to her dad how to play online video games.  So let’s hope I can get back to my destiny soon.

My first “official” blog post

So I found out I have been hitting “Blog Post” but it is not posting as a blog.

Would you believe people used to come to ME for tech advice?  Now I’m a blogging potato.