Seriously, Japan. It’s bad enough that you caused me to become hopelessly addicted to sushi, but now you have to go and fuck me up further by leaking radioactive crap into the Pacific Ocean and polluting and killing the very species that fuel my sushi addiction. I’d give you more than a small piece of my mind, but Mama taught me to shut it if I don’t have anything nice to say…but she’s also dead, so I feel no remorse in saying, “Go fuck yourself, Japan. EPIC FAIL.” Now I have to prepare for sushi withdrawals and need to save my strength. And, yes, sometimes it is all about me.
I have been off the blog waves lately, but not for lack of ideas to blog about nor lack of a need to blog about them. To put it simply, I really have a lot on my plate and I just haven’t been able to stomach sitting down at my computer to blog when I’ve been spending eight to ten hours a day editing. Lucky for ya’ll, I just realized I can lie in bed with my ipad mini and blog my face off whenever the urge arises!
If my Sissy In Law, Molly, were here, she would be petting my face and telling me that I’m pretty (this is what she does to anyone who shows a particular aptitude for stupidity) and, well, I am pretty!
I just want to touch base with everyone about what’s on my mind. Here goes…
To change things for the positive, you first have to change the way you think.
We are what we think we are and what we think about becomes reality. This is the most simple truth that there is out there. Think happy thoughts, be happy. Think sad thoughts, be sad. You picking up what I’m putting down here?
I used to look at certain situations with a negative, overwhelmed kind of attitude and, guess, what, those situations were negative and overwhelming. It has taken me years to change my thought patterns, but it comes naturally now and the more I do it, the more I want to do it.
When our house is a mess:
It’s not a giant pigsty, it’s just a mess that needs to be cleaned up. It’s easy to clean up a mess – simple and straightforward – but a giant pigsty, well, that requires a shovel and more than a little muscle.
When I am trying to get a project done by a certain date and time:
It’s not a looming deadline, it’s just a date set to reach a goal. If I miss the mark, the world won’t end. There is always more time, we have plenty of it. Focus and be productive. A goal is something positive to be strived for. A deadline is sinister and causes pressure to build where there is no need.
When I find myself in conflict with someone else:
Conflict arises when I want someone else to think and feel the same way I do and they don’t. Everyone is unique, let their thoughts and feelings be unique too and be happy they aren’t the same as mine. If everyone I knew felt and thought the same way I do, my life would be lifeless and as boring as watching paint dry. Embrace everyone’s differences and, if you can’t, walk away or choose to accept them and let it go. (This particular change in thought patterns took me nearly three years to really grasp, but now that I have it, it is beginning to be as natural as breathing)
Parents, teach your kids how to spell their names properly. It’s the least you can do to help them get through life.
Greg just told me that our last name is spelled Leflufy, not LeFlufy. This would be totally fine, if he had explained that to me, oh, 10 years ago, but he didn’t. This is actually quite funny when you add to the story the fact that I spelled my three middle names incorrectly for more than 25 years. My mom never corrected me while she was alive, although I have no idea why. It was only when my mom’s mom pointed it out to me and told me to “pull my head out of my ass” and check my birth certificate that I found out the cold hard truth of my blissful ignorance. Thanks Gma Ada! You always were a ball buster who told it like you saw it…hmmmm…wonder where I get that trait?? The ultimate irony of this entire situation is that I am somewhat of a Spelling Nazi and have been known to correct people’s spelling and grammar on occasion…
This girl just bought a pig, even though I swore I would never eat pork again
Yes, it’s true. After watching Food, Inc. and seeing the scenes with pigs being grossly mistreated, I vowed I would never eat pork again and stopped eating factory farmed animals in general. I just could NOT fathom how people could treat such an intelligent and compassionate creature with such irreverance and cruelty. It made me ill. I didn’t eat pork for nearly two years, until I discovered I could buy pork ribs from one of the local stores here who sold friendly/ethically-raised piggies. Even then, I only bought them once or twice a year and only as a super special treat for the boy because he loves the way I cook ribs. Then, to my surprise and delight, I picked up some wedding clients who are also pig farmers. When I went to their place and saw how happy their pigs were, I knew I could buy one with a clear conscience. Now, aside from the last of the deer meat we have and the ample amount of salmon and halibut that greg just caught, we will also have some pork from a pig who had a happy life. Many thanks to John and Maria at HValley Farms for finding me, hiring me, and hooking me up with some happy piggy.
Sometimes pushing through the pain can actually be a good thing
I get crazy vertigo when I exert myself-sometimes to the point that I pass out. You can imagine how, uh, really fucking annoying, that can be for someone like me who likes to go hard and beat the crap out of my body (in a good way). It’s probably even harder for my trainer (Rob Petrie of F3 Fit) because he has to catch me all the time or stop our workout so my eyeballs can stop pulsating and the complete white out in front of my eyes can disappear. Unwanted side effect of the ole brain problem. The bad news is it has been six months since the vertigo started and it has been hampering my training (and life) on a regular basis. The great news, yesterday during a workout, it got fairly intense, but I just kept pushing and kept trying and, for some reason I cannot fathom, I pushed myself past the point where I usually feel like passing out…and came out the other side without passing out. In fact, as I kept going, the vertigo subsided and everything calmed down a bit so I could actually finish the workout! It was fanfuckingtastical and I can’t wait to see if it continues to happen. BOOM!
As a side note, I’ve also recently realized that my hair touching my face drives me nuts and puts me in a cranky mood. How fucked up is that??? All will be well until I can feel one tiny hair touching my face and I instantly lose my mind. When did I become so neurotic? It’s a good thing I have really long hair and a lot of it…;)
Okay, I’m pooped and my legs have fallen asleep, so I’ll close this blog by recommending that you go check out my teammate and friend, Lucy Dynamite’s new blog about raising her three year old ginger, Molly. The blog is all about the things Molly says and does and the title, as spicy as the kid herself, is Where’s My Fucking Tights. You can check out her very first bloggity (it involves me, of course) at Where’s My Fucking Tights
K, peeps, I’m outta here. I wish you all enough…