My Purpose: Entertain, Inspire, Be Happy, Free Hugs!
 

I Stab You in Neck With Fork. Or—This Is Me With PMS.

It’s been too long so I’m just going to start rambling and see where it goes. Bear with me. I’m jacked up on chocolate because I’m PMSing and another family member is in the hospital. Flashback to two hours ago: I waste petrol and kill planet to take a purpose driven dash down to the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory, a crack junkie needing her fix, with my little mom (MLM) in tow. I rush in the store while MLM collects empty biodegradable kelp chip bags off the passenger side floor. The Candy Hostess greets me with a How are you? I’m cranky and PMSing and need chocolate right away. I reply. She half-laughs and comes around the counter with...

Warning: This Post Contains Potenially Politically Incorrect Ethncity Discussion. (Oh My!)

posted in Elephantjournal

A peculiar quirk Americans have: watch-dogging political politeness. Total hypocrisy. I say Americans, as in U.S. inhabitants, because coming from a small, redneck town in Canada, I haven’t had the same experience around this topic. Here’s the polite repertoire of how I’ve heard ethnicity addressed where I’m from: white, black, Asian, East Indian, First Nations, European, Mexican and Newfie! (Newfoundlander! Our Easternmost Canadian province. For non-maple leaf readers.) Here are the actual, more common and still considered apropos terms used: White (though usually there’s no reason to utter the phrase ‘white,’ because it’s assumed, unless otherwise indicated—I live in a less diverse community ethnicity-wise); Black (we consider African-Americans¹ black dudes/dudettes from the U.S. even though Canada is technically part of...

How Veganism and Leafy Greens Messed With My Tresses ~ (ej article).

posted in Elephantjournal

Alright, I'll admit the title might be slightly misleading, but only by a hair's width, and in fact it's actually sort of true for those of us with hypothyroidism. Here's the Cliff Notes on the compilation of causes that lead to my follicular failure and limp, wimpy locks... 1. I had a stressful job for twenty years (I sold real estate, but substitute whatever it is in your life that gives you constant anxiety; work, finances, relationships, health, CNN, etc. You get the picture). Chronic stress causes the body to produce a steady stream of adrenaline which is awesome possum when you need to jump out of the way of a runaway skateboarder or stealthy Prius, but...

The Five Agreements ~ Don Miguel Ruiz (A Recap)

posted in Elephantjournal

Do these things and never feel bad again…Simple, if not always easy steps to inner peace. After the last few days of perception mismatches that lead to misunderstandings and hurt feelings, I remembered the invaluable lessons from the books of Don Miguel Ruiz. Hope these will help anyone struggling with love, life and relationships! Be impeccable with your word. Being honest with ourselves and others frees us to be real. Speak with integrity; don’t gossip or speak ill of others. Take responsibility—don’t blame. Being real feels good. Our reality is not going to match others’ realities because we all have our own movies going on in our heads. Perceptions vary because we’ve all lived a different life and processed...

To The Persons Who Jostled Past Me to Get to the Front of Yoga Line

Honestly. This happened on Christmas Eve. I understand the studio will be closed for one day people, but your names are on a list for this last [Rock Star Guru] class, there will be room for you without having to push me to get to the front of the line. If this was my first ever yoga class I’d have said a few things. In fact I’ve only been doing yoga for a couple of months now. I tried yoga several years ago in my small home town in Canada and ended up leaving the class mid-way swearing like the trucker’s daughter I am after the loveless instructor pointed me out a few times with, “you in the pink, you’re...

A Letter to My Dad... I Forgive You; I Apologize to You; I Thank You

Hi Dad, or should I call you Henry? It’s been so long I’m not sure how to address you anymore. I was looking at old photos the other day and thought of you. I wonder if you’ll get this, if any of it will register. Will it find you, wherever you are? I wanted to let you know that I forgive you. In fact, I forgave you a long time ago. I don’t know why I waited so long to tell you. Maybe I thought that somehow through the cosmos you’d simply know. Please read the full article here on elephantjournal! :) ...

And Then There Was One ... As in: Me, As in: Single, Single Here! (As in: Sad sigh.)

After taking a FaceBreak for a month, I go back on social media hub central. As I’m not so inclined to browse through a month’s worth of newsfeed for ‘my closest 400+ best friends,’ I simply jump back in mid-stream.Interestingly, it is true that no one does miss you (me) when you (I) leave the FB party. The real—not virtual—friends and I have stayed in contact outside of social media. Two of my closest friends aren’t even on FB.Nonetheless, coming clean, I am self-publishing a memoir in the coming months, and the book marketing course I took last summer was all “social media, social media!” There are other ways to procure purchases, but they’re slower going and a lot more...

Is Shopping a Form of Meditation? Why, Yes, Yes it Is!

I’m in L.A. living the life of a rock star, that is if that rock star is living in a make-shift tent partitioned off the living room with a curtain in a shared house with three other people and one bathroom with mood lighting. ‘My’ attic space got rented for a 2-week period during the middle of my stay because I hummed and hawed so long about the duration of my stay in L.A. that the attic got booked. And because I’ve now fallen in platonic love with the owner and one of the housemates, Mermaid, who fashioned the tent for tenant ‘overages,’ I was granted permission to squat in said cozy abode. Right. So, I’m not actually living the...

Poked and Prodded - Physically, Metaphysically

March. Poked and Prodded Part 1: Physically Me: “So I’ll just take my shirt off?” Him: “Leave your bra on.” Me: “It’s a workout top.” Him: “Put the straps under your arms.” Me: “Okay … but not the sweat pants, right?” Him: “Yes, take those off, too.” Me, avoiding eye contact: “But I haven’t shaved my, my, well—anything, in 4 months.” He shrugs, “Me neither.” Cut to next scene—I’m lying on the therapeutic bed in the dim light under a whisper thin sheet hoping that, when he returns, he won’t see the salad poking out from under my lacy panties. (If you’re going to wear sweats, ladies, wear some decent underwear; do this for you.) I’m wondering if the...

What Will They Think of Me? Embracing Authenticity

Fuck. There. I’ve said it—or rather written it—a shocking word (in my real estate business circle) that most people who know me as the consummate professional would never (and I do mean never) think I’d ever utter, never mind open with in my first public blog post. (Note: The title of my first blog was going to be “Alberta Beef Makes Me Horny,” but you’ll just have to wait for that one.) So here I am, the real me. Currently, the real me is scared as fuck. (Now I’m just writing that word to show off. I’ll refrain from further use unless authentically warranted, rather than just to shock, only because overuse of the word nullifies its effectiveness and distracts...

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