Do one thing every day that scares you

Posted on November 1, 2012 by admin

Do one thing every day that scares you. - Eleanor Roosevelt

It’s that simple – and that hard.

For the month of November, try something new every day. Big, small, tiny and gigantic – but challenge yourself to not hesitate, to say yes, to do more or maybe do less? But do.

Write all of your accomplishments down – no matter how insignificant they might seem in the moment. If you decide to post about your adventures on your blog, or via Twitter, Instagram or the like use the hashtag #OpEleanor.

You can read more about OpEleanor here and here and even here.

Ready, set, go.

When my mustache met Sally

Posted on September 7, 2012 by admin

As it turns out, the mustache remover cream actually does work. And if you don’t want to read another single word, well there you go. And this isn’t really a review of the Sally Hansen Creme Hair Remover Kit I used – at least not one the company would probably endorse – because I don’t do reviews, but here’s what happened when my mustache met Sally.

Now I know what you’re thinking: Why would she want to get rid of her mustache when, helllllloo! Mustaches are super trendy right now. I know. I KNOW. But as it turns out, mustaches are only cool when they’re fake and not like, home-grown, so I thought that being a lady (shut-up) and whatnot, I ought to manicure this upper lip shit before I become the number one draft pick for the photo booth at weddings.

And really, I’m pretty mad at me because I did stand there in the beard-busting aisle of Target pursuing all two choices of hair removal products (wax or cream, cream or wax?) and heard my inner voice speak to me (in the AllState Insurance guy Dennis Haysbert’s voice, because duh) say “Uh, Megan? This can only go two ways for you, given your history with follicle fails: poorly or piss poorly. Do you really want to buy this ‘fast and pain free’ hair remover creme?” So of course I bought it. And the wax kit too.

Well, Sally Hansen is a liar. You’re not going to believe this, but as it turns out, “fast and pain free” is more of a marketing gimmick and less of the truth. I read the directions three times, left the cream on for three minutes, four minutes maybe – FIVE MINUTES TOPS – and it took two full days before the burning, tingling sensation stopped. Suddenly I was Team Two-Face, writhing in pain at my burning upper lip, falling asleep facedown on a bag of ice and spending the next four days looking like I was Cherry Kool-Aid wasted. Four days later, after hiding away in my house because no magic makeup in the world could make me look normal, the final layer of skin peeled off and the swelling went down.

But on the fifth day? The hair was gone. So, technically, Sally Hansen’s Creme Hair Remover works. And if you’re looking for something to remove your ‘stache (your pride and your mayorships from Foursquare because you can’t leave your house) and you have a very high tolerance for pain and Kool-Aid lip stains, THIS IS YOUR PRODUCT.

It’s the puree truth

Posted on August 16, 2012 by admin

If you’ve never been stalked – yes, stalked – into buying a blender then you just might not “get” this, but for the rest of you who have, then no need to say it, YOU’RE WELCOME, now we can all relate and swap our tales of stalkery-gone-retail.

I recently spotted my stalker at the store and hurried past him as though speeding up my loud ass cart (I always get the loud carts) would somehow be super stealthy of me and I’d go unnoticed.

Not true.

Just when I thought I was safe and sound in the tampon aisle, there he was in front of me, appearing all *poof* Antonio Banderas-like – minus the good looks and Antonio Banderas-ness. I can’t even recall the words I muttered to satiate him – something informational about how sometimes women have “super absorbency” days and other times “regular absorbency” works just fine and “TAMPON TAMPON TAMPON” please go away now - and then *clunk clunk clunk* took my three-wheeled cart to look at blenders. He shouldn’t be there for tampons and blenders too, right?

Not true.

I found myself absentmindedly perusing these Shark Ninja Choppers-slash-blender things that come in different colors and models and prices and who the fuck knew blenders had evolved so much? And while I was learning all about food processing, I was simultaneously checking over my shoulder every three seconds in the direction of Sir Stalk-A-Lot, totally failing to realize the bastard would appear out of thin air from the complete other direction, all what-the-fuck? like. And sure enough, before I could even wonder if it was safe to leave the kitchen appliances for the light bulb aisle, there he was – again – because uh, WHY?

So I stammered and slurred a few words while pretending to concentrate very hard on the purple Shark Ninja Chopper and somewhere between mentioning my nail polish color was named after a Kardashian and envisioning having to rub lotion on my skin, I must have added that purple chopping machine to my cart. It’s all a blur, really, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but my heart beating so loud it was hurting my head and steering my rickety cart off in the other direction with a hasty “Hey-gotta-go-so-nice-to-see-you-four-fucking-times-in-one-store-WEIRD-ASS-SCARY-PERSON-I-DON’T-KNOW!” and heading straight for the check-out and a suburban housewife-sized Klonopin.

And that is how I ended up with the coolest goddamn blender ever, which, if you’re being stalked into buying something, I’d highly recommend. Or maybe if you’re just looking for a blender without having a stranger follow you around, asking you how often you get your hair done? I’ve even used my Ninja to make what I call “Afterburner Salsa” and maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but I swear to god, my salsa is better somehow because of this blender I bought in a total panic.

See? Impulse buying has its perks. It’s practically a MasterCard commercial. Or an FBI public service announcement.
_______

BTW, this is not an ad or review for Shark Ninja products in any way. They probably don’t want me representing their products, even if it’s on my own accord like this here. Thankfully, there’s that whole ‘free speech’ thing and whatnot.

Haunted

Posted on July 22, 2012 by admin

In this town of 62,000 too few, I watched you drive past the other day. It was as though I had seen a ghost – haunting and eerie – you looking just as I remember you in my head, in those memories that refuse to fade; your eyes still just as striking as the night we met again for the first time ever.

Watching your car fade down the road until I could no longer see you, mixing into the traffic and the tears, the anger surged in me. I’m not angry at you for the lies. I’m not angry at you for the disappearing. I’m not angry at you about her. Instead, I’m furious with myself for not being angry at you at all. I sit behind the steering wheel, watching in my mirror, still tracing the lines in the road where you just drove away, and I seeth, hating me for not hating you at all.

You are, apparently, the ghost I’ve never believed in and you’re haunting me. In my head. Around town. You’re everywhere – completely inescapable – and yet nowhere to be found.

I’m still catching my breath, wondering how I can remain so broken-hearted over someone I never really knew – and yet felt I had known forever. Often wondering if you ever think of me. About what you did. How you left. Those things you said. The promises. If you’re ever sorry. If you meant any of it. If I ever even occur to you at all. And I can’t help but wonder if, in this town of 62,000 too few, you ever see me driving past and find yourself catching your breath.

Life via autotune photography

Posted on July 15, 2012 by admin

SOMEBODY’S been a bad blogger.

(Don’t worry, so have I.)

Life has been crazy busy, but crazy busy in a good way. While I’ve slacking ’round these parts, I’m forever posting photos on Instagram [IG = mhook], which is essentially my life via autotune photography.

Let’s catch up:

I’ve been working a lot which means

I’ve been commuting a lot… but there are less scenic drives,

that’s for sure.

But it hasn’t been all work

I’ve also played too

perfecting my game…

The boys?

Who let them grow up? God.

They’re so big.

And wise.

And CRAZY.

We added a new member to our family

This is Weimaraner Phil

who is already making his rounds on the internet

and has made T “into a big brudda.”

I, apparently, like to make rash decisions in hair salons

and chopped off a good chunk of my hair.

Speaking of rash decisions,

I tried Rocky Mountain Oysters [bull testicles] for the first [and last] time ever.

I also went to my first ever UFC event in Las Vegas

UFC 148 Silva v. Sonnen II

which was an incredible experience.

And has me ready to get back

to my own MMA training finally.

Your turn. Whatcha been up to?

6.

Posted on June 8, 2012 by admin

You.

You are meant for big things, T.

But you already know that.

You were born making the loudest noise and I suspect it was a bit of foreshadowing of who you are becoming – a force to be reckoned with.

Everyone knows you wherever we go – school, around town, police officers. Mostly because you have a charisma that is infectious and a personality that cannot be ignored.

You have already done big things for your age – becoming a bit of an internet sensation, finding your groove on camera and of course all the normal Kindergarten-age things too like reading, writing your site words and becoming more iPad savvy than the average adult.

You are more sure of yourself than I am of me and I admire you for that. There’s a swagger in your walk and complete confidence in all your ideas. It seems you even know what you want to be when you grow up: a hipster with a handlebar mustache who owns a Smart car. Of course.

T, you are smart, funny, quick-witted and terrifically stubborn. You make me laugh hard and smile wide and try harder. You’re an awesome MMA fighter, a good ‘bruddha’ and a fantastic storyteller. You are so many great things.

But know that you still have huge things ahead of you yet. Continue to make as much noise as possible in life. Keep that admirable confidence and chase all your ideas – no matter how wild. And no matter what life throws at you, never lose sight of who you are and who you want to be. Because you are amazing.

I am proud of you and in awe of you every single day. I love you, dude.

Happy, happy birthday.

Love,
Mom

DysFUNctional

Posted on May 21, 2012 by admin

The family that jumps out of a perfectly good plane together, stays together?

SIDE CRAMP FROM THE ROFFLE. So. much. irony. in that one.

First off, it was hardly “a perfectly good plane” unless you have a deep appreciation for duct tape, rust and a pilot who also wears a parachute *just in case.*

Though we did get an in-flight meal: Altoids.

I jumped with my new BFF Leon who is missing his front teeth after an encounter with the side of a mountain. (The mountain kept his teeth BUT, he did get to ride in the rescue helicopter.) Besides being an exceptional skydiving instructor (fact), Leon is great at doing hair as you’ll witness in my video.

I have a feeling Leon and I are going to be friends for a long time.

We are dysfunctional, at best, this group of skydivers. There were 6 of us – which included family who only sees each other on Facebook, family who refuses to Facebook together, my ex-husband and my Grandpa, who turned 80 and brought us all together to play Russian Roulette with our life insurance policies.

I kid. Well, not really. That’s all true. But it just works for us somehow and there we were this past Sunday, taking to 10,000 feet to jump out of the ugliest damn plane to celebrate my Grandpa turning 80 years young and wanting to go after a bucket list item.

Clearly the ‘crazy’ is genetic.

I couldn’t be prouder to call him my Grandpa.

Happy birthday, Grandpa. Can’t wait to do it again.

Catching my breath

Posted on May 16, 2012 by admin

Have you ever choked? Like, legitimately began choking on something where for a second (which feels like several minutes) you were certain death was imminent?

The summer I was 15, I remember vividly sitting on a bar stool right next to my very best friend, eating dinner at my dad’s house in Chattanooga and choking on a piece of bread while no one noticed. Of course I couldn’t make a single noise as it was blocking my airway and I was far too panicked to think of physically grabbing my friend not six inches to my right and making her take notice so I sat there and awaited death.

Somehow I survived, the bread dislodging itself from my throat and me then furiously trying to relay the fact that I had just been suffocating and not a single one of the five people in the room even realized it.

I read something recently that resonated with me – and uncomfortably so. This woman, a very well-to-do, intelligent, charismatic lady, wrote about how she had been a stay-at-home-mom for 26 years and never got used to it. She couldn’t even bring herself to use that ‘SAHM’ title so when she was surrounded by others she would make sure to deflect the inevitable question of “What do you do for a living?” Feeling as though her 26 years of being a SAHM wasn’t, well, enough; as though being ‘just’ a stay at home mom was an inadequate job amongst those who “worked” a more traditional office job. Of course she knew the value in being a SAHM, it just wasn’t enough for her.

I could have totally written that. Word for word, each letter, each pause in each comma – it was like YES. THIS. UH-HUH. HEAD NOD.

Now I have that office job. A job that is perfectly suited for me and a job that I really love. I am no longer ‘just’ a stay at home mom; I am a mom and I am also out there just like I wanted to be, working really hard to provide for my kids and, better yet, I’m lucky to be doing something I enjoy.

Win-win.

Except.

Now I feel like where I ‘failed’ at being a successful woman in the working world before, I now fail at being the super mom everyone expects I should also be. The guilt has not gone away; it’s simply shifted. While I once would have wished I could have brought in an income, I now feel like a failure for missing school activities. Now working isn’t a choice but a reality. Attending school activities are no longer my main job – they are what I do in my free time. And I have very little of that these days.

Finding a balance between the work that I love and being with my boys who I work so hard for is incredibly difficult. I can’t keep up. I can’t maintain that SAHM persona they’re used to and provide for them like I have to. And the stress is sometimes suffocating.

Last week, I worked a ton of extra hours to bring to fruition a site I’m really proud of. GUILT. My oldest gave me a note for Mother’s Day warning me he will forget about me if I send him to daytime summer camp when school’s out. GUILT. He’s being bullied again. GUILT. My mom called to let me know she thinks he could really use a little one-on-one time with me – if I have time. GUILT. My 5 year old reminded me I haven’t answered his mail. GUILT. There’s no way I can make it home in time for their Open House next week. GUILT. Tonight, my ex asked me if I could take the boys for a little while because I was home earlier than normal and I said I needed to work. GUILT.

And I feel like an asshole. Especially over that last one. But I just need a second. A minute. For air. Because between the work, the parenting and the guilt – oh my god the guilt – it’s like I’m standing here, in a room full of people, choking and no one has noticed. And I just need to catch my breath. For just a second.