Growing.

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Yesterday was my birthday.

Birthdays don’t feel like birthdays anymore.  There’s no excitement or party, there’s just a feeling of knowing I’m getting older.  I don’t feel older, though.  Sometimes I even ask my spouse how old I am because I forget.  But once I started to actually think about it, I really am getting older – and growing.  Not so much physically, but mentally and spiritually, I guess.  Maturing.  I’m a big girl now.

 

I spent my 16th birthday drinking a margarita out of a sippy cup and watching cartoons.
I spent my 17th birthday pregnant.
I spent my 18th birthday with my infant son and his father.
I spent my 19th birthday getting my GED.
I spent my 20th and 21st as a college student.
I spent my 22nd birthday working at a Networking event, which my family attended.
And this year I spent my 23rd birthday eating sushi with my family and we took our son to the library.

So when I really take a closer look at it – I am maturing each year.  Each year I am more grown up than the last.

I love that I’m not still that lost soul I was when I was sixteen.  I love that each year I have accomplished something and moved up on the ladder in life.  I love my life.

If it weren’t for my child…

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While I’m already procrastinating, I just want to take the time to tell the world how awesome my life is.  In all honestly, here’s how it goes…

I have a job that is no where near as fulfilling as I’d like it to be.  My house is currently a disaster.  We’re on a budget and don’t have much disposable income.  I don’t have as many friends as I once had.  I know, these sound awful.  But I am so grateful because I have a job to complain about, I have a house to complain about, and a small group of trusted friends.  I also have the most handsome and loving hubby ever, and a son that is a mirror image of him.  

What prompted me to gush this all is two things:

1) Hubs just sent me two texts – “want to go for coffee during your break?” “good its a date then” without me even responding.  It’s little things like this that remind me that I’m not alone.  After being together for so long, he still enjoys my company and we still go on dates.  And we still check each other out ;)

Reason 2) I keep seeing these posts on social media about “if it weren’t for my kids…I’d be sleeping” or “my house would be clean” or “i’d work out” do this, do that…like these little blessings are holding their parents back from living. Shut the front door.

Well, here’s something:  If it weren’t for my child, I would most likely never have gotten my GED, never attended College, never gotten a real big-girl job, never ever have built my own dream home, never experienced TRUE unconditional love, or real fear, I would never have created anything beautiful, I would never have something that I can take one look at and see myself, the man I love, the brother I lost, the in-laws I gained, and the small man I created all wrapped up into one being.  If it weren’t for my son I may have become a drug addict, an alcoholic, a homeless person, dead.  If it weren’t for my son I would not be whole.

Peeved to the max.

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Okie dokie, ya know what bothers the ever-living-shit out of me!?!?  I’ve been steadily, regularly going to the gym since probably January (and sparatically prior to) and recently I’ve been noticing that I’m really toning my body quite nicely.  I’m not losing any weight, in fact, I think I’m gaining.  But what the fuck ever, I’m seeing great results!  So when someone who has only been going to the gym regularly for a fucking month comes and tells me I need to lift heavier or do this routine or take this supplement – it really grinds my gears!!!  ESPECIALLY when said person is not seeing ANY results!

So, friends, do not be that asshole who thinks they’re a goddamn Personal Trainer all of a sudden because you’ve picked up a fucking dumbbell.

Thanks for reading my rant of the day….so far. ;)

What am I doing here?

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I haven’t posted anything on my blog since December.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  It’s not like a have a life or anything either, I guess I’m just lazy.  Or too boring for my own good.  

So anyway, lately I’ve been wondering wtf I’m doing with myself, and what exactly it is that I want to do/be when I grow up, because the great Pam Beesly said it best! (See photo) She’s totally right.  Why did I go to school to become the front desk lady?  I spent two years of my life sitting in classrooms learning how to properly answer a telephone and how to do everyone else’s bitch work without exploding.  I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m good at and I haven’t come up with much.  I’m pretty good at sitting at a computer, but I don’t like it much.  I want to do something crafty, buuuut I’m not very crafty, s0o…

Maybe this is a midlife crisis.

Just Checking In..

Oh hi, Readers!

So0o since my last post, much has happened.  The world lost its most gorgeous human being (Paul Walker, obvi.) Not going to lie, I choked up when I heard.  I may have even teared up.  Maybe.  Rest in a beautiful paradise, you incredibly talented and sexy man.  The world will forever miss you.  We also lost another incredible man, Mr. Nelson Mandela.  Also very tragic.  Residents of India lost the right to LOVE.  What the fucking fuck!?!?  Good one, India – legalize rape, but ban true consensual love. You are stupid beyond belief.

So that’s the bad news.  The good news is, I’ve lost a teeny tiny amount of weight, which is most likely water fluctuation, but fuckyourself, I’m getting there, so don’t burst my bubble!  Also, hubby and I started watching Breaking Bad, so now I’m really obsessed with Aaron Paul.  He just has really gorgeous teeth and stubble.  Oh, and those eyes.  And the fact that he is madly in love with his wife AND Bryan Cranston.  So cute.  But now that I know more about him, I stare at the screen like a little puppy.

So, what else?  Umm, winter decided to show up and bring the gang, so0o that sucks. Hmm, my son has two loose teeth, which I never want to fall out.  Ever.  I feel so old and sad about it.

 

So that’s that, folks.  Not very exciting, but in case you missed me ;) you’re welcome. xo

Free to a good home….with restrictions.

Alright, I don’t know how on Earth I get so lost in the World Wide Web, but it happens more often than not.  Admit it, you Google random topics too.  So, I can’t remember what I was searching, but I do remember that I saw a strange, slightly racist ad promoting adoption.  I googled the website on the poster and found a US adoption website.  Now, MOST adoption websites that I have searched, after stumbling upon this one, do not show the children’s faces, due to privacy acts and, you know, general respect for these children and their biological families.  This website allows its users to search through their database to find desired child(ren), even allowing one to narrow their search.  I was shocked.  Even writing about it, it just feels so wrong…so so wrong.  Anyway, this site allows you to search based on race, gender, age, etc.  It’s like shopping for a puppy.  That’s all I thought the whole time.  I thought to myself, “Are all adoption websites this open!?”  These poor kids.  So this lead me to search other adoption websites.  The whole “search by race” thing plucked my nerves at first, but I thought, well…maybe people want their kids to blend in with their families or something.  So, I searched South Korean adoption, which is where my family has roots.

Well now, this is ANOTHER crazy find!  Countries such as South Korea, China, India, etc. have many strict requirements if you want one of their kids!  You cannot be single.  You must be married, and for 3-5 years at least.  You mustn’t be LGBT.  You mustn’t be overweight by even 5 pounds.  Heaven forbid!  Lord knows unmarried fat gays can’t raise children.  Grrrrrdfjghfdkhdkhjd. You kidding me!?

So, obviously frustrated with these rules from other countries, I searched my home country – Canada.  I looked up Aboriginal adoption, because I am “Aboriginal” myself.  (I put it in quotations because I don’t know how I feel about that  term, and you may read about my various opinions on this in later blog posts…most likely.)  So, anyway, guess what?  Canada doesn’t care if you’re fat, gay, or single!  Why?  Well, hmm, perhaps because these kids are in such dire need of a loving family, that these things just don’t matter.  As long as you’re a suitable candidate and will share your life and love with a child, you’re eligible.  My thoughts exactly.  Way to go Canada :)

***Dear Readers:  This post consists of my thoughts alone, and this post is merely a rant to express my frustrations.  But you’re welcome to share your thoughts if you’d like. **

Willpower: It takes balls.

Hey guys and gals

Weekly “update” here. I love the gym. The food thing? Eh, still working on it, but here is something that has sort of been helping me:

My coworkers buy coffee and muffins all the time, and recently one of them has been bringing in halloween left-overs and offering them to me. I took the goodies home because I didn’t eat them at work (yay me!) and when I got home, my hubby saw them and asked where they came from, as we and our son have eaten all that we had. So I told him my coworker gave them to me.

Now here is what my snarky, cynical hubby said: “He probably rubbed his balls on them!”

Hubs thinks that every man who speaks to me is a pervert, which you know, maybe true. But as soon as he said this I laughed and said “ew” and threw them away. Voila.

Like magic.

The beautiful people

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What makes a person beautiful?  Is it their facial features?  Their body type?  Their style?  Their personality?

I am slowly becoming obsessed with this whole blogging thing, and I really enjoy the “Freshly Pressed” stuff.  Even the words “Freshly Pressed” are so clever and comforting.  Like freshly pressed clothing or home-made orange juice…that’s what I picture anyway.  So I look through that page on the daily, and today I stumbled upon a post that read “So here it is:  I am ugly.” which caught my attention, so I read this young lady’s post.  She talks about how she considers herself fat and ugly, and that these words have become part of her identity.  (You can read it for yourself here - http://fatshionhustlings.com/2013/11/02/ugliness-my-right/#comment-156 – she is pretty awesome.)

Her post was very honest, yet gentle…you know, she was so kind and accepting of it all.  This post – and the comments she got on it – inspired me.  One comment said “we live in a world where attractiveness is more important than intelligence.”  I believe this to be true.  I am the perfect example of this.

I’m not ugly, but I don’t think I’m beautiful, either.  I think I’m pretty, and I’m very fortunate for my good looks.  I often half-jokingly say that I was a miracle baby (my brothers, as well) because…well, our parents aren’t the greatest looking folk.  That, or they’ve just really let themselves go..?  Mean, I know.  Don’t care.  Back to the looks thing…

I never take “selfies” because I’m not obsessed with my face like some people are, and selfies are kind of embarrassing.  I don’t ever fish for compliments, but I often get them anyway.  “Beautiful girl”, “Why are you so pretty?” , “hot mama” …that kind of stuff.  I don’t get overly excited when people say these things, but I still say thanks.  What I’m getting at is that people consider me “beautiful” because I have a pretty face.  They are dumb.

I mean, great! thanks! but for serious??  I’ll tell you right now that I might actually be the ugliest person I know.  You know why?  Because I’m ugly on the inside.  Most old people creep me out, I dislike people if they give me a “bad vibe”, I get angry when people get dramatic for attention…to sum things up, I just really dislike people.  Babies and animals are beyond awesome!  But I think people are awful.  And I think I’m a pretty awful person, too.  Which is why I am ugly.

I’m also not very bright.  I’m pretty good with names and faces, but if you asked me what I ate for breakfast yesterday, or asked me about that really important thing we discussed in length last night, I would not be able to tell you!  I’m extremely forgetful, and I often ask ridiculous questions, or have “blonde moments.”  I also say “um” and “like” a lot.  I disgust myself.

When I was in college, my graduating class had only eleven students, so group assignments were basically class discussions.  This one beeotch in the class used to make the joke “you can’t be smart and beautiful!”  It drove me nuts, because she looked at me every time she said it.  When a classmate had a slip-up or brain-fart, “Oh, Becca…you must look pretty today!  Everyone knows you can’t be smart and beautiful at the same time!” **Looks right at me** 0.0  You bitch. I’m dumb, I fucking get it.  [What also makes me ugly is the fact that I am still cursing this woman as I write this.  Big Bird-lookin' mofo!)  Grrr.]

So what makes a person beautiful?  I think being a good person on the inside makes you beautiful.  I strive to be this person someday.  I obviously need to work on this…a lot.  So to those of you who are considered “ugly” by society….you’re not.  Unless you have a terrible soul like me.  Then yes, you are ugly.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

What the hell does that even mean?

Yay for Friday

Hello there!  Guess what today is??  FRIDAY.  Weeee!

I’m at work, as per usual.  My to-do list consisted of sort of updating our company’s website, which I did and I am quite proud of.  However, I am not allowed to promote it because of this, that and the other… So here I am, writing to y’all.  I wish I had something more interesting to discuss, but I really just don’t.  You don’t care though, because its FRIDAY!

Also, you may be happy to know that I made a Green Tea today with no interferences! Score!