What Are You So Afraid Of? Fear and How to Conquer It…
In the past couple of days I have forced myself to be aware of my inner dialogue and who I am being as a person today. I have become very emotional lately when it comes to my career and the goals I have for my future. I find myself putting off what is important because I have a fear of…
10 Things No One Tells You About Sex
By: Ryan O’Connell
Published on Thought Catalog
1. It is possible to occasionally sleep with your friend without it turning into some big ol’ thing. Why is there such intense debate about this? Why did Hollywood have to poop out two identical movies that explore this STRANGE and TWISTED phenomenon known as, “friends with benefits”? “OMG,” a fearful woman screams. “Is it true? Can you REALLY sleep with someone and not want to have 10,000 of their babies afterwards?” Yes. Friend sex is tricky but it can work on a case by case basis. I would just advise that the person you’re boning not be your best friend and that you only have sex sporadically. There. Bingo. Now you can sleep with most of your friends!
2. Sex isn’t always hot. Sometimes it’s sad and sometimes it’s angry and sometimes it’s embarrassing. Sex comes in a variety of flavors and “hot porn sex” is just one of the things that’s on the menu. To be honest, messy sex is often more interesting than garden-variety porn sex. It’s easy to emulate what you’ve seen on TV. The real challenge comes from making sex personal and uNiQuE to the individual.
3. Sometimes you will feel overwhelmed with emotion and want to cry during sex. That’s okay. You’re not crazy. There’s just a dick inside of you. We’ve all been there.
4. There are certain sexual experiences that leave a nasty mark and, in most cases, the mark doesn’t go away until you sleep with someone else. The best cure for a bad sexual experience is a good one.
5. People don’t always get more interesting when their clothes are off. They don’t magically become nicer or more understanding. Sometimes a person is actually the worst version of themselves when they’re naked.
6. More people would like to have sex with you than you might think. If you’re ever in doubt, you should just assume that someone would be okay with seeing you naked.
7. While it can be good to take a break from sex, don’t be gone too long. Otherwise, you risk becoming legitimately terrified of sex. The thought of experiencing that kind of intimacy with someone is, all of a sudden, totally bone-chilling and you can’t remember how you ever did it. And that, my friends, is how six months of celibacy can quickly turn into two years.
8. Sex is the reason why you’re taking a cab to this douchebag’s apartment at 4 a.m. Sex is the reason why you bought those $200 jeans. Sex is the reason why you ordered a salad instead of a burger. Sex is the reason why you’re still dating this person, even though you know you’ll never be able to love them. See that? Therein lies the difference between sex and love. Sex drags things out that should’ve been dead a long time ago. Love, on the other hand, kills everything quickly.
9. It is possible to have really good sex with someone, love who they are, get along with them during daylight hours, and still never want to date them.
10. The person you lost your virginity to won’t always mean something to you. And that’s fine. They really don’t need to matter. Their one job is to make you not a virgin anymore and then send you on your merry way. 
Read more at http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/10-things-no-one-tells-you-about-sex/#Q02sVto33RHiMRzK.99
Thought of The Day: Being right isn’t always the right thing…
I’m a Taurus. Big surprise there, is anyone shocked about this revelation? No, probably not. I am loud and creative, loyal and honest. But I am also stubborn as fuck. My way is usually the right way. Every time. Even when I am not right, I’m right. Yup. Stubborn and bull headed, always have been.
Recently, I have been teaching myself to listen more. Even if I don’t agree. It is amazing what you can learn if you just shut the fuck up for a second and listen to, or even consider someone else’s opinion. I have given up arguing and debating my peers and loved ones. Because no one else cares if you’re right but you. Right?
You can still be right, by letting someone else feel as though they are. Try it 
5 Years Ago I Made a Promise to Myself…
Earlier this week Meghan Telpner shared her creed on her blog, “Weird over boring. “ I love this.
In high school I was pretty odd. We didn’t have much money so I wore weird, second hand clothes, some of which I made myself. I had horrible acne, frizzy hair, read a lot of books, and wrote poetry. I was shy and kept to myself. I was too nervous to say how I really felt about anything for fear that my views would come off as weird or strange. I didn’t need to give the kids any ammo. I knew how they felt about me. Being the real me would just make matters worse. I had a couple good girlfriends, but for the most part, people just thought I was “weird.” My family confirmed this accusation. My sisters were just as weird as I, and my parents… well let’s just say, having your mom show up to collect you from a party, with the fury of a bull was far from “cool”.
But what is cool really? When I was younger, cool was the group of girls you remember from high school all wearing the same outfit, walking, talking and smelling the same way. But as I developed into who I am now, I realized this was not true. Cool is the strong female in her daring outfit, with the awesome personality and the ability to do what she wants, when she wants and not give a damn what anyone else thinks. Do people think she is weird, probably. But I would much rather be that woman… wouldn’t you? To me, that woman is my mom. What a fireball. This woman does not care about what anyone thinks. She just does, says, and dances to disco with her kids, the way she wants. It is her life, and you are just passing through. I always admired this. I remember my mother consoling me after a boy broke my heart and saying, “one day, someone will just see the smart, beautiful girl I see, and he will love each quirky thing about you.”
About 5 years ago (wow, how time flies) I decided, that I was sick of shoving who I really was, to the back of my mind. I love to paint, and wear colourful and unique clothing. I love to play Abba and jump on my bed in the morning, and then chill out and write with Jim Morrison serenading my every thought. I love to dance in the street for no reason other than the fact the song playing in my headphones is so friggen good that I can’t help myself. I LOVE to talk to strangers, the stranger the better. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than just taking off on an unplanned adventure, without preparation or plan.
5 years ago I made a vow to myself that I would be as far out of my comfort zone as possible 98% of the time. The day I made this promise was the day I started to live my life.
Are you living the most satisfying, full life you possibly can? Have you made a promise to yourself lately?
Confessions of a Smear-phobic
Big glasses and a bigger than oversized hat. You would Think after years of doing this you’d be a pro…. Nope, still an embarrassed little girl clutching that precious item between her legs. You walk into a big shiny, scary white room and hand the receptionist your card. She looks you up and down accusingly and asks you why you are here. You mumble a quick something using your right hand to deflect the sound of your voice from tickling the ears of anyone around.
You collect your things and take a seat, staring at the pile of magazines in front of you. Nothing of interest, just Parenting, housekeeping and a few old newspapers. You see your hand reaching out for something to flip through then quickly stop yourself . Disgusting , I can’t believe I almost picked that up. You watch each self-conscious individual get called down the long, white corridor. Breath in, breath out, long, deep breaths, in, pause, out.
You jump at the sound of your own name. Startled, you pick up your bags and oversized hat and follow the small Asian woman down what seems like a never ending hallway. Last door on the left she says without looking, as she stretches her long index finger in your general direction.
You walk in, breath… You look at the white, plain walls and a cold chill quivers down your back. You spot tools, scary tools of all shapes and sizes. Ugh, you make a face. One you have done many times in the past, and turn towards the long, black, leather-like bed. No, not bed. Beds offer comfort and provide rest, this piece of furniture does not. This is a bed of humiliation and shame. You walk toward it and eye the garment laid out on the right side. Here we go, you think to yourself. Slowly and quietly you begin to take off your clothes. One item at a time, thinking about each piece. To stall the events that are about to take place, you slowly and precisely fold each article of clothing. When you finish you find yourself quite happy with your efforts. Oma’s finishing school teacher would be proud, real lady is standing in this room.
Knock knock, your day dream is interrupted. Any pleasant thought you had going through your head has quickly vanished. Poof gone. “C-c- co- *cough* come in!” You squeak. The reveal is always the most tasking part of the day… Will the universe grant you the gift of a gentle, soft spoken professional, or the short, overweight, creepy guy that stares at you before he goes about his business… The door opens slowly… You find yourself cringing like a toddler watching a horror flick. You open your eyes and sigh in relief.
“Good afternoon miss. Will you please hop onto the bed”. You do as your told. “It’s been a while, are you comfortable? You nod. “Lay down please, could you please move your bum down a bit? Yes closer to me, there now I can see you. “ Your sigh of relief disappears and waves of anxiety start rippling down your entire body. The back of your knees are sweaty. Is it over yet?
“Please open your legs, nice and wide, wider, wiiider miss”. Even though you have done this many times, you still find yourself hesitating. Eventually you just succumb to their compand and separate your legs as wide as possible, and lean back. Try to relax you tell yourself, breathe in, and out.
“This might feel a lot fuller than you’re used to…” oh god damnit… We’ve got a big one. You groan quietly to yourself, just your luck. Before you are able to argue you feel it inside you. It feels full, very full. Your toes curl and your hands find themselves in fists. Just breathe. You see a hand grab for one of the strange objects next to the bed.. Oh what the hell… Too late , “almost done!” you hear, just as you thought the misery would never end.
You feel two fingers inside you, What are you searching for? You wonder. All done! Oh thank god. You pull the sheet up over your legs to cover your exposed girly bits. You sit down next to the bed and pull on your panties and zip up your skirt. You don’t turn around, but you can hear papers shuffling.
“Looks good! Take some condoms on your way out. See you again in a year!”
URine Trouble Now…
There comes a point in every single girl’s life when she finds herself having to use the loo in a man’s apartment. Leading up to this horrifying act was a series of drinks or dinners (or maybe not, Trampy McTramperson) where you could politely and discreetly excuse, and relieve yourself in peace. Free of worry, judgement or running water. But now you find yourself standing in the cold, empty bathroom trying to figure out just how well he can hear you doing the devils business.
At this point you are desperate. You have been holding your full bladder for at least 2 hours, having that inner battle with yourself, “You’re fine, you do not need to pee, just hold it and it will go away…” Well I have news for you it won’t go away, and holding it can result in chaos if the situation is not carefully assessed. You never know when you’re about to laugh uncontrollably or may find yourself in a tickle war, or worse you slip and fall… trust me. So here you are.
You look down at the turned up toilet seat. You wince and reach out to set it down. You stare, but then decide to check out your surroundings, a blue shower curtain, little to no product, small bits of freshly shaven hair scattered around the sink. You can tell he tried to clean it, but some spots were missed. You look back at the bathroom door; it feels paper thin at this point. You find yourself tip toeing around the bathroom look for anything to muffle the sound a bit.
Like some teen smoking pot in their dorm room, you shove a towel in the crack at the bottom of the door. Hmm that sound help, you look proudly towards the proof of your problem solving skills. That should do it! You head back to the toilet, and start unrolling the toilet paper, and piling it in the toilet bowl, creating a small barrier between your urine and the water. There! Now he won’t hear that embarrassing tinkle… You sit down and after 5 yoga breaths you start to pee, slowly, barely… and just as you are about to let go, you remember the sink. Running water!! You stop immediately and turn on the water full force. Awkwardly you hop back to the toilet, panties around your ankles, and pee in peace—kind of.
You push and push realizing that you’ve been in this bathroom for a bit longer than you anticipated. A quick flush, wash of the hands. and touch up of make up, you proudly, but gracefully prance back into his gaze, an extra hop in your step. You did it…
He smiles, and you smile back. But what you may not realize is that he is laughing inside. While you were away for 20 minutes trying to figure how to muffle the sound of your pee, he firmly believes the only reason anyone would take so long in a bathroom is because you needed to take a great… big…dump.
I tweet from the bathroom all the time! Follow me !
Please Don’t Look at Me When I’m Working Out…
If you’ve ever interacted with another human being, I’m sure you’ve played this game. It’s called, “Obnoxiously Stare at Someone Until They Become Visibly Uncomfortable, Perhaps Squirming or Perspiring in Protest.” I’ve played this game and I lose every time, because I hate people staring at me. At the end of my high school career, I abstained from walking in my graduation because I was convinced I would trip or otherwise humiliate myself. (This was a worthy speculation: during my college graduation I had an arm spasm that resulted in “raising the roof” while walking across the stage to receive my diploma. My parents still haven’t forgiven me.)
I just become overly conscious of what I look like when people stare at me. Am I moving my arms enough? Is my eye all lazy-like? My posture is terrible (I don’t need to question that, it just is). The occasions on which I become hyperaware of my appearance are totally arbitrary, too. Are we having an intimate moment? It’s cool if you look at me. Am I walking in heels? Avert your eyes, but only if it looks like I’m having trouble. If I don’t look like I’m on the verge of breaking both ankles, feast your eyes on this jam. Am I sleeping? Not crazy about you glaring at me, but I can’t stop you so stare on, silver girl.
But the one time it is never, ever okay to look at me is when I’m working out. I get more of a workout attempting to stay out of sight at a gym (or in my own living room, where I tend to torture myself these days) than I do from actual exercise. I even avoid staring at myself during these fragile episodes. One accidental glimpse in the mirror and I experience pangs of first, second, and third-hand embarrassment for days. Mirrors merely exist to amplify the shame.
Exercise is something most people manage without incident, it’s true. What’s also true is that we all have our own asinine hang-ups that make no logical sense to other people. It could be that our hair never looks just right or that one boob is bigger than the other or that we can’t pronounce certain words the way we know they should be pronounced — whatever it is, no one quite gets why you can’t face your complex like a normal person and not a paranoid, neurotic freak. Hell, I don’t understand why I can’t face exercise like a normal person and not like a paranoid, neurotic freak.
It’s just that… I feel dumb. Gangly. Sweaty. Uncoordinated. Confused. Lost. Flushed. Clinically insane. I know people who are actually working out aren’t going to stop running around the track mid-lap to point at me and yell, “Look at that inept loser! You gonna stop and drink water every half mile? You gonna pretend you have to tie your shoe another six times like we don’t all know you’re just catching your breath? We know what you’re doing, amateur.” I know that, most likely, that’s not going to happen. Is it shallow, immature, and slightly insane to care so much? Totally. But that’s the nature of insecurity. Neuroses run deep, and my athletic abilities (or lack thereof) have long been a source of anxiety for me.
As a child, calling my name during Red Rover was the equivalent of pantsing me in front of every guy I liked, ever. Calling my number during Steal the Bacon induced panic attacks. I spent seven years forgetting my gym uniform at home. I did not get to wear a letter jacket or a soccer number on my back. I played clarinet, for chrissake. I entered poetry contests. The only way someone could mistake me for a confident athlete is if handwriting were a sport. (It’s not.) I know I make exercising harder — and more demeaning — for myself by avoiding it, but my performance anxiety usually outweighs my desire to get in shape.
Thing is, summer’s approaching and the seasonal call to get my ass in gear must not go unheard. I’m a firm believer in keeping it firm — if only for a season — so I’m going to suck it up and sweat it out. I just need you to promise not to look at me first.
Valentine’s Day Belongs To Single People
I like how it happens not too long after the New Year so your city feels fresh. Everyone on the sidewalks is carrying red flowers and pink balloons and big heart boxes home. I like the way that red and pink look against white snow, because Valentine’s Day is in the winter and I like the dash of lovin whimsy that it punches into the cold season. I have been single on every Valentine’s Day ever except sort of in 10th grade when I skipped Geometry to meet up with this secret sort of boyfriend I kind of had. We did not acknowledge that it was Valentine’s Day. We just made out in a stairwell for a while and I was wearing a pink dress, because the other great thing about Valentine’s Day is the dressing up.
There are at least ten reasons to love this day; one of them is that I love seeing other people in love. Will someone explain to me, sometime, why happy couples make single people mad? Happy couples serve a faith-inducing purpose, if you really think about it, because it’s hard to claim that love is not contagious.
Maybe I’m not taking the content of the holiday seriously enough, how it’s technically a day for people in love. All I see is pink and red. It’s as much a day to celebrate being gainfully unattached as it is having a love story with a partner. It can be a clear, crisp, platonic day to take a break from half-assed courtship. Because I am insane I’m usually dating like three people at a time, but on Valentine’s Day I quit being a player and hang out with my friends because I love them and the holiday is about love, right. We’ll wear red or if we’re feeling subversive then blue and we’ll watch Marie Antoinettebecause it’s a pretty and pink movie. Or Mean Girls or Amelie or Fight Clubwhile eating sweet cavity things and reading astrology books.
Maybe I love Valentine’s Day because I was raised to. My mom used to decorate the house for it better than Christmas, which we barely acknowledged. She’d hang white tulle (Google it) in the kitchen and put out pink and purple candles, string silver lights across the ceiling. There would be candy hearts. My sister and I would glue lace to construction paper and make cards for each other. It was a day different from all the other days, that holiday thrill electrifying the death-feeling of grade school monotony. Even now, my mom sends me a package with pink and red treats every February. Her personality is most pop culturally comparable to the No Wire Hangers Lady in Mommie Dearest. We don’t speak much anymore. But somehow, in our non-relationship, Valentine’s Day still happens for us.
I love Valentine’s Day because a day designated to recognize love is a nice thing for America to have, right? Thus, it is a day to remember how much you love other stuff too: I love being giddy on champagne with my friends and writing stories till my carpal tunnel explodes and getting black ink tattoos all over me. I love my bedroom where the light hits my blue sheets to make everything the perfect cool tint and how this weather smells like spring. I love the memories of days when I was in love and wanting and whining. Don’t forget those memories; because of them you can rest assured there are more to come. I love annoying synthy hipster bands and their annoying shows in dive bars. I love Norah Labiner and Jane Lynch and Susan Sontag. I love those Indian restaurants with the crazy cluttered Valentines-y lights on the ceiling and I love that Diplo remix of that Sia song. And here is the cheesy but true part, did I mention I love my friends?
This year, I’m gonna wear my favorite red pants and red lipstick. I’m going to Bushwick with my buddy who just moved here and still has that New-to-New-York glow. We’re going eat dinner at Tandem because in case you didn’t know, food can be love, and then go to some concert. We’re probably going to text other single buddies and they’ll come and we’ll go to a dance party in a warehouse and I’m going to keep saying “Happy Valentine’s Day!” while we get drunk because it’s our day too; if anything, in our pink and red clothes with our lives nothing but blank slates in this young year, it’s more our day than anyone else’s.
By 
Reasons Why You’re Not Happy
We are living in a day and age where we find ourselves miserable and unhappy. There is negativity everywhere we turn. The television bombards us with messages of war, hate and disaster; while also telling us how to look, what to buy and that we just generally suck as a human being. We have money problems, global warming, societal pressures and shitty economies. Ladies, want to be happy? Well then, take off your clothes, pump up those lips and dance for the man. Men, you’re fucked… because the only way you will be happy is if you sleep with as many women as possible and then make tons of money to throw at them. That sounds about right, right? Wrong! You have the right, and the ability to be happy, you just need to come back to the grassroots meaning of happiness- organic happiness if you will. The problem is that you are just too busy sabotaging your dreams. So let’s take a look at the reasons why…
You’re insecure:We sit here day after day wishing we had nicer skin, skinner thighs, goddess hair, and porn star boobs. We go through our everyday lives bombarded with ads, songs and television shows telling us what to pick, and prod, suck in and dye. If you’re sitting there night after night watching E wishing you looked more like Kim Kardashian I have news for you. You are never going to look like her; or any other celebrity for that matter… cuz guess what girlfriend, you look like you. Sure you might have a gap between your teeth, a ragging zit in the middle of your forehead and may be prone to walk into walls; but that’s ok, because it is who you are. Under that ragging zit is a girl with tremendous work ethic; and when you’re not walking into walls you are beacon of genius and creativity. Your brain, and personality are sexy, flaunt that shit!
If you wander through you life comparing yourself to everyone else’s highlight reel you are going to live a very sad, sheltered and lonely life. Sure Lana Del Rey’s ass is to die for, and I could definitely use Jamie Eason’s abs to do my laundry on; but those women didn’t escape the womb that way. A lot of hard work and dedication was involved. You are a brain first and a body second, but if you want the body put away the laptop and get off your ass. Sitting on that piece of meat never got anyone closer to a six pack.
You’re Materialistic: We live in a world where we mindlessly consume and collect useless items for instant gratification. We dream of the high paying job, the sleek car and the sex on a stick boyfriend, more than we care to admit. Our total purpose in this urban playground can be described by one sad, and terrifying word, consume. Have the best, be the best, look the best! We come home and whine about our tiny ass apartment, our mediocre wardrobe and then go to town about why no one will date us. Girlfriend, you need to check yourself, before you wreck yourself. Have you ever stopped to take a look at all your possessions? Have you ever thought about thanking those boots that keep your feet warm, or that old band tee that still fits after nine years? And good Lord Woman, do you NEED 12 black designer purses that you still haven’t been able to pay off?!
If we would just learn to accept that extravagant items may not be a necessity, and instead love what we do have; we would have so much free time to focus on more important items. Now that you are no longer whining about what you don’t have, you can use all that extra time and energy to work on getting what you want! Single? No problem, go date! Date one, two, five or seven men! With your newly found confidence and overtly abundant happiness you will be beating those babes off with your last season Micheal Kors bag that you are, oh so grateful for. Trust me, try it.
Your Attitude Stinks:Did you know you are able to trick your body into making yourself believe that you are happy? Start with a smile. When did we decide that smiling was only an expression to be used in isolated situations? I smile all day long. I am that creepy chick walking down the street with an absurd grin that nods and/or widens the smile for those that pass. Why the hell not?! There is so much bad out there I cannot help myself but to smile just to keep me sane. Did you know that smiling can boost your immune system, lower your blood pressure and relieves stress? If that wasn’t incentive enough, let’s touch on the subject in first paragraph; smiling lifts your face and makes you look younger! See, you don’t need a plastic surgeon of the stars; you just need to get that sour look off your face and smile. If you find yourself having a tough day, or suffering from Mother Nature’s monthly gift of PMS, take a quick minute to yourself. Make a ridiculous noise, do a little dance or laugh for no reason, sure you might look nuts, but I promise you that it will feel fantastic! When you revisit the task at hand you will be of clear mind, and happy soul. Single ladies it is a fact, there is nothing more unattractive than a miserable human being.
You’re Pathetic:If your life is as routine as Lindsay Lohan’s arrests, it is time to step outside of your comfort zone. Stop wearing black, get off Facebook, and be spontaneous. Act in the present, less talk more action. Being spontaneous means acting in the present, and being responsible for your actions no matter what they may bring. How satisfied are you with waking up, eating the same breakfast, walking the same route to work, sitting at a desk for 8 hours at a job you hate, drinking the same coffee over lunch, talking to the same people you don’t really care for, and then coming home, whining about it all and doing it all over again? Just writing that down made me queasy, and I am sure you agree. The thing is, that SO many of us are doing exactly that! It’s time for a change kids- It’s time to get crazy!
What does living in a spontaneous space feel like? The short answer is less thinking, more feeling. I have learned to proceed by feeling things out and not letting my mind corrupt what I am feeling or becoming lost in my emotions. We are so influenced by what we see, what others are doing and what is deemed at socially acceptable that we simply forget that we are a being that thrives on drive. Remember that saying “safety first” – I say, Fuck it. Now, I am not saying that you need to quit your job and move to the jungle, or invest thousands of dollars on an idea that was not well thought out. No, what I am saying is get out and do something new. Try a new type of food or bar, try an activity that makes you uncomfortable, or talk to that hottie you’ve been internet stalking in HR. What do you have to lose? That was a trick question, the answer is nothing; you have nothing to lose because you stopped taking yourself that seriously. The mind and soul thrives on new experiences and challenges, without them you become a stagnant old hag that plateau-ed at the ripe old age of 30. Gross.
This is the urban recipe for happiness. So read it, love it, and practice it. Because no one is stopping you from getting what makes you happy except you. Instead of bitching about it, try this- change it. Whoa, shocker, someone call Nasa I have made a scientific breakthrough! If you are unhappy with anything you are, do, or have, either accept it and move on, or change it. You create your own adventures. The End.
THOUGHT OF THE DAY
Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.
THOUGHT OF THE DAY
Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.
THOUGHT OF THE DAY
Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.
What have you done for yourself lately?
Take some time to pamper yourself! Last night a girlfriend and I made a feast of finger foods, did our hair, and applied all natural blueberry face masks. All while we watched old Hollywood favorites like ‘How to Marry a Millionaire and ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It is important to take care of yourself and thank your body for all the work it does everyday.
So try this: instead of drinking your face off this weekend, have a girls night! Treat yourself and each other; you will wake up hangover-free and a lot prettier!
What have you done for yourself lately?
Take some time to pamper yourself! Last night a girlfriend and I made a feast of finger foods, did our hair, and applied all natural blueberry face masks. All while we watched old Hollywood favorites like ‘How to Marry a Millionaire and ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It is important to take care of yourself and thank your body for all the work it does everyday.
So try this: instead of drinking your face off this weekend, have a girls night! Treat yourself and each other; you will wake up hangover-free and a lot prettier!
What have you done for yourself lately?
Take some time to pamper yourself! Last night a girlfriend and I made a feast of finger foods, did our hair, and applied all natural blueberry face masks. All while we watched old Hollywood favorites like ‘How to Marry a Millionaire and ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It is important to take care of yourself and thank your body for all the work it does everyday.
So try this: instead of drinking your face off this weekend, have a girls night! Treat yourself and each other; you will wake up hangover-free and a lot prettier!
I’ve Got A Friend in You
This week I have a visitor. My best friend Melissa from Ottawa.
I was once told that you are the average of the 5 people you spend the most time with. Oh how true this is… I personally have seen significant change in my own behaviour, focus and values as I have grown to cultivate more meaningful relationships. As we grow we attract individuals into our lives based on our actions, the energy we are sending out and our values. Bluntly put this means, if you are a shitty person you are more likely to attract shitty people. It is as simple as the law of attraction.
Back to basics folks; anything meaningful and important in life really is that simple. It doesn’t matter if this relates to a healthy lifestyle via eating or exercising, time-management; or the key to creating, building and maintaining positive and fulfilling relationships. What you put in determines what comes out.
It has only been two days and we both feel like more whole people. Having someone around to share your life with is the greatest gift an individual can give you. It is the ultimate form of love to be able to share what you are creating. Whether you have a significant other, a roommate, a cat, or a best friend… there is a feeling of wholeness involved in the sharing, the laughter, the joy of companionship. This is why those with lots of friends and meaningful relationships are so happy! What is the key to happiness? Well its not money… you can have all the money in the world and no friends and still be miserable!
To be honest it feels so good to come home and have someone to cook with while we watch my old movies. Someone that shares my love for dressing up and pretending that my apartment is a house in Tuscany, and not a shithole on Dundas east. We drink a lot of wine, bake a lot of treats and sing and dance quite poorly to music that makes my roommate Andy’s ears bleed. I am also very fortunate to have a live-in stylist and hair dresser, Hizzah!
Friendships are the building blocks of happiness and the key to enjoying your time here on earth. Be good to your friends and they will ensure that you will always be smiling.
vegehttp://www.youtube.com/watch/?v=4B_FyOr5PWA
INSPIRATION SOUP
Salimah’s Progression from Veg to Vegan. Food is about love. Cooking with someone else means that you are coming together and creating something out of love, that will love your insides.
“Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon”
Last Night’s Fun is This Morning’s Nightmare.
1 drink, 2 drink 3 drink floor? We have all been there, and we have all sworn that we wouldn’t do it again. We are all liars.
Whether you simply under-estimated the potency of that extra glass of wine, or you consciously made the decision to drink till you drop, now you are paying the price. If you would rather lay in the fetal position then face the sunshine. Or, find yourself cursing the sound of happy children in the street, then you have found yourself the right blog.
Alcohol is a poison, and the hangover is your body reacting and trying to get rid of the toxins that you single-handedly jagerbombed your body with. It really is that simple
How do you prevent a hangover? Obviously by not drinking you Boozehound! But since this is not likely to happen, here is some friendly advice from your local party animal.
Eat & Drink This!
Bananas- Just peel and eat. The minute you broke the seal, the potassium levels in your body have been diminishing.
Coconut Water- Nature’s sport drink! Replenish your fluids, sugar levels and electrolytes with this magical elixir.
Water- Duh, like I should even have to write this. But I understand that your brain is swimming in a glass of last nights beer, so I will elaborate. When you drink, you piss like a racehorse and end up dehydrated. So drink water and drink tons.Your body does not function correctly when you are dehydrated.
Ginger Tea- If you can handle standing for long enough this tea works wonders for nausea and an upset tummy. Cut slices of ginger root and combine with water. Boil for ten minutes, strain and add citrus juice like orange or lemon. Sweeten with honey and slam it back.
Do This!
Half Lord of the Fishes Pose- Don’t look at me like that. Yes, I am telling you do a yoga pose. This pose is the perfect post-party liver flush, and you do it sitting, you’re welcome.
- Sit on the floor with your legs extended straight in front of you.
- Bend your left knee and cross your leg over your right, placing your left foot on the floor beside the outside of your right knee.
- Rotate your torso to the left so you are twisting your body.
- Bring your right arm across your body and place your right hand on the floor beside your left butt cheek. This will act like a kickstand.
- Inhale big belly breaths. Hold the pose for 30 seconds. Switch sides. Go back to bed.
Cando and Camille’s Kitchen
My dear friend Camille Stone, designer of Wellware Jewelry, learns to cook for herself. We laughed, we danced and we made our taste buds sing.
Who Have We Become?
Every day I walk the streets of this city. Everyday my heart breaks. It breaks for the woman drying her towel on the subway vent, the old man eating cat food and the street kid that finds warmth and comfort at the library. Everyday we walk past these souls; we pass by as if it was completely normal to sleep on the street using the heat from a subway grate to keep warm.
Have you ever stopped to think about why these individuals are here in the first place? Have you ever taken the time to stop and ask why? Or are we all busy wrapped up In our self indulgent lives to feel for another human being? We fight daily about the stereotyping of races, sexual orientation and social class, why are the people of our streets any different? Why are we harder on those that have lost everything?
Every day I pass by an elderly gentleman who sits on the corner of university and queen, let’s call him Henry. Chances are you have seen him with his sign that reads “We are all different; please see us as individuals with our own story.”
I used to walk by, smile, and carry onward to work. After a week, that smile was joined with a nod and slight tilt of my head. After a month, I started to notice whether or not he was there. If that street corner was empty, I would feel a hard pit in the bottom of my stomach. A horrible worried feeling would consume me, wondering if everything was okay. This must be how parents feel when they lose sight of their child for a quick second.
Most often I would leave the house with my lunch for the day, but end up at work without it. Then I began to pack two lunches, one for myself and one for my new friend. I found myself leaving the house wondering if he will be in his usual spot. I started to fantasize about what his life was like before he ended up on the street.
One day, I decided enough was enough, I needed to know… I left 20 minutes earlier then I usually did and headed towards University and Queen. He wasn’t there. I walked by and was left worried and upset. “Today was the day…” I thought to myself.
A week passed and I was taking different routes to work and working wild hours at the store and for myself; I forgot about Henry. It was a Sunday, and I had to open the store. Naturally, I was tired and was running late. I ran out the door, forgetting my lunch, my keys and running shoes. I walked my usual route, head in my phone, and music blasting in my headphones. As I waited for the light to change at Bay and Queen I saw someone sitting at the corner of University. I reached for my bag and noticed I forgot my lunch. I felt defeated; I couldn’t ask him a personal question without offering anything… I remembered a gift card to Fresh that my boss had given me. I frantically searched my wallet for the card as I crossed the street.
With the gift card in hand, I knelt in front of him. “Here, this is for you, I think there’s about 25 dollars on there, it’s all vegan food, you’ll really like it.” He looked at me like I had 8 heads; he rose to stand and looked me in the eye. Tears formed and I received the biggest bear hug I’ve had in a number of years. There I was— standing in the middle of Toronto hugging a complete stranger with tears running down my face.
Four years ago Henry had a well paying construction job. One day, while working in the backyard, Henry broke his leg. He was unable to work and couldn’t get anyone else to help him. He lost his home and was too embarrassed to reach out to family due to a falling out many years prior. His leg never healed properly and he is unable to do much physical activity. This hinders his ability to just go and “get a job”.
I asked him what his days were like, “Oh probably just like yours, some are bad, some are good,” he responded. “Mostly I just feel alone and invisible. Society see’s us as all the same, as if we are painted with the same brush. But you get used to the looks and the snickers… I know who I am, and that’s all that matters really.”
I walked to work last Thursday and Henry wasn’t there. He wasn’t there on Friday, Saturday or Sunday either. The optimist in me thinks maybe he finally reached out to family members, or was able to find a job. My inner pessimist would rather not think about the alternative. To me Henry was an intelligent guy and saved me just when I was starting to let this city consume me of my sensitivity.
Please take a second out of your day and smile to those around you. Be compassionate, for life is often hard and not everyone has the ability to be as strong as you are.
Thought of the Day
Love is the extremely difficult realization that something besides oneself is real.
