Let’s Talk About Poop 💩

Are y’all doing the poops in front of each other?!

I’ve asked around and it almost seems like a 50/50 split. I am on the side that likes to keep some kind of mystery in the relationship and part of the mystery is that I don’t know what you look like when you’re taking a dump. 

Don’t get me wrong, we’re discussing the poops….probably too often, but that’s where it ends. I love being close to my boyfriend and sharing everything, but this is one thing he can keep to himself. 

Just yesterday, he told me that he took the biggest dump of his life. It was so impressive that he said he almost sent me a picture of it. Now, some of you are cracking up and others are disgusted. I understand both reactions. I’m clearly living the dream. Also, I’m very glad that he didn’t capture that image and send it to me thus resulting in mixed emotions that would have driven me to drink for the remainder of the day.

I feel pretty fortunate that our toilet has it’s own little room with a door…inside of a large bathroom with another door. I would prefer both doors remain closed during the sacred time of taking a brown and flushing it down. I don’t need to share in that moment with you and vice versa.

I’ve heard some stories, guys. One person is showering and the other comes in to drop a deuce. All I can say is, what in the actual hell?! NOT ON MY WATCH!


Farts, however, are in a completely different category.  

Last week, we were laying down facing one another, staring deeply into each other’s eyes and just when I thought the moment couldn’t get any sweeter, he ripped the loudest fart..WHILE MAINTAINING EYE CONTACT.

I looked at him in disbelief and asked, “Did you just fart while maintaining eye contact with me?” He laughed of course. I tried really hard not to join in the laughter, but failed miserably because farts are hilarious. I don’t care who you are.

Let's Talk About Poop 💩

Are y’all doing the poops in front of each other?!

I’ve asked around and it almost seems like a 50/50 split. I am on the side that likes to keep some kind of mystery in the relationship and part of the mystery is that I don’t know what you look like when you’re taking a dump. 

Don’t get me wrong, we’re discussing the poops….probably too often, but that’s where it ends. I love being close to my boyfriend and sharing everything, but this is one thing he can keep to himself. 

Just yesterday, he told me that he took the biggest dump of his life. It was so impressive that he said he almost sent me a picture of it. Now, some of you are cracking up and others are disgusted. I understand both reactions. I’m clearly living the dream. Also, I’m very glad that he didn’t capture that image and send it to me thus resulting in mixed emotions that would have driven me to drink for the remainder of the day.

I feel pretty fortunate that our toilet has it’s own little room with a door…inside of a large bathroom with another door. I would prefer both doors remain closed during the sacred time of taking a brown and flushing it down. I don’t need to share in that moment with you and vice versa.

I’ve heard some stories, guys. One person is showering and the other comes in to drop a deuce. All I can say is, what in the actual hell?! NOT ON MY WATCH!


Farts, however, are in a completely different category.  

Last week, we were laying down facing one another, staring deeply into each other’s eyes and just when I thought the moment couldn’t get any sweeter, he ripped the loudest fart..WHILE MAINTAINING EYE CONTACT.

I looked at him in disbelief and asked, “Did you just fart while maintaining eye contact with me?” He laughed of course. I tried really hard not to join in the laughter, but failed miserably because farts are hilarious. I don’t care who you are.

Adulting

Did you guys miss me?! I can just see you now…sitting on the edge of your seat in anticipation, the way I do when the bartender is making me a Michelada.

I’ve been working far too much. Adulting is pretty stupid. There’s not nearly enough time for sleep and the responsibilities are endless, but you can eat cake whenever you want so there’s that. Also, the Micheladas.

As you can imagine; I’ve continued to talk to myself, learned the lyrics (and dance moves) to a few new songs, caused my daughter to roll her eyes at me 1,348 times, tried out some new recipes, made sure my cyber stalker is still around, and learned another language. Ok, fine. I didn’t learn another language, but the intent was there and isn’t that really what matters?

I’m happy to report that no matter how much time passes, my stalker never lets me down. Weeks or months go by and whenever I check in, there she’s been, diligently watching and commenting on my every move. Well, not my every move. I guess she sleeps and everyone poops, but you get the idea.

Now, don’t think I take for granted how lucky I am to have someone so fascinated by me. Sure, I’ve had to change user names multiple times and she says unfavorable things about me, but guys….that’s just a cover! Obviously, she thinks I’m great or she wouldn’t make the effort to know what I’m up to. I’m fascinated by her fascination with me and I can’t have her getting bored and moving on to someone else.

Other than that, I’ve just been preparing for the world to end because…WTF? The incessant violence and all of the hate is sickening. I guess all we can hope for is that someone finally catches all of the Pokémon thus ridding the world of all it’s impurities and creating peace once again. That’s why everyone is working so hard at it, right? I mean, grown adults wouldn’t invest time in it otherwise. Right? Guys?

Holy Frijoles, this is the end.

There are so many things I still have to do in life. I need a pet pig, an owl habitat, and at least 2 more dogs. I have to learn how to make Sushi, fold a fitted sheet properly, and ride a unicycle. LOL on the unicycle. Can you imagine these hips and thighs on that thing?

All of this “End Times” talk makes me wonder what other people have on their lists. I don’t like to call it a bucket list because that’s a little morbid. 

I decided to ask around and here’s what we’ve got:

*DISCLAIMER* If you are under 18, have prudish tendencies, or are mature in any way, stop reading now. 

 
1 – Perform a Salsa dance on stage, with lights, live music, and an audience. Clearly, I’ll  also be wearing an elaborate dress. Have a dressing room backstage with 5 hot Latinos attending to my every need.(Ok, I added the last part for her. You’re welcome, girl.)

2 – I’d move to the beach, do some parasailing and hot air ballooning. Have a threesome. Get a Yorkie. Spend my Golden Years high as a kite.

3 – Have a partner in life. Like a female partner, with female parts. Buy a place in Vegas and gamble 24/7, 364. Everyone needs a day off. 

4 – Become independently wealthy and spend a year in Western Europe ordering a six pack of the finest everything. Also, return the power strips I stole from work. 

5 – Participate in and win a Hot Wing eating contest. Have a record breaking(partner induced) 8 orgasms. Get married at least 2 more times. Look amazing in a bikini. Own a pug farm. Learn how to properly do my makeup. Get my Bartending license. Skydive again. Get fake boobs and pierce my nipples. 

6 – Go skydiving and scuba diving. Travel Europe. Buy a black 7 Series BMW. Take a cross-country trip, stopping in every town and city to preach the difference between there, they’re, and their. 

7 – Get lip injections, a facelift, a boob job, and dye my hair blue. After successfully changing my identity, I’ll travel through Europe with my band. Obviously, I’ll be fluent in Spanish and French so what better time to settle down on a farm in New Zealand with horses and maybe have another kid. In my down time, I’ll write a Sci-fi fantasy novel series and finish all of my tattoos. That’s just the plan for next year. I’ll get back to you with my long term goals, but they will most likely include swimming with dolphins. 
  

* All names have been withheld because these are obviously some shady characters who are probably on some sort of watch list and I don’t want them getting turned in because my daily life would suffer in their absence. 

 

Happy Tuesday, everyone. Go eat your tacos like good Americans.

Sugar Tits

Somebody named “Sugar Tits” started following me on Twitter today so I’d say things are definitely moving in the right direction. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m making the right decisions in life and little signs like this confirm that I absolutely am.

Keeping a sense of humor these days is crucial. I work for the government, “The Man”. To make matters worse, my particular field is kind of in politics – as in , I don’t give a shit about it, but we’re surrounded by politicians, regulations, and legal jargon. I know it sounds awful, but I actually love my job…most of the time.

However, I’m realizing more and more that we are surrounded by COMPLETE MORONS. They have zero logical thinking capabilities. If I can’t reason with someone, I just make fun of them because I’m mature.

Laughing keeps me on the right side of sanity most days. If it’s funny, inappropriate, and slightly offensive, I’m all about it.

To the New Yorker who came into our office this week wearing a fanny pack and loudly told us that she was “Absahloootlee Disscaahssstid” that she had to come down there because of what had been going on in the “Rahpublicaan Paahtee” and she just “has to vote fah Mr. Truuump”,

Ma’am, I assure you, we are equally disgusted that you had to come in to see us as well.

Some thoughts on the Republican party from Frankie on Twitter:

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As I was shopping at Target for the second(third) time in a week, I realized that I do this on a regular basis…

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Humans are so weird, myself included. What the hell? We’re touching a gross cart and pushing it around, but yes I’m sure the piece of paper inside of it is what’s contaminated. Dumb.

For those of you who aren’t weird and don’t do that..

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Way to go, you sound boring.

 

I don’t want you to leave here without something substantial. A little nugget of wisdom, if you will. Clearly, I have none of that for you, but Mr. Feeny on the other hand..

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Be weird, be funny, just don’t be a wiener…no fanny packs and don’t vote for Trump.

And now, I’m going to go drink on my Parent’s patio like a real adult.

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Misfits

“I’ve never met a strong person with an easy past.”

I couldn’t agree more. I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately and thinking about all of the people in my life. As I’ve gotten older, I have become increasingly choosier about who I give my time to. I like my people imperfect, a little messy, passionate, clever, and grateful. These are my favorite humans.

When I’m hanging out with them, it hits me that we are the coolest bunch of misfits ever. Feel free to disagree, we won’t give a shit.

Life throws a lot of people in our paths. Some are great and some are their own special brand of awful.

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However, in the end, I believe they all serve a purpose. Even if that purpose is to be a seat filler who laughs too loudly at his own jokes and will probably end up being a Wal Mart Greeter in his old age. Or a mouth breather who drags their feet when walking, thus making me homicidal. That’s their journey so Godspeed, you no common sense having bundles of annoying. I’ll be over here thanking the good Lord that your time in my life has passed. Amen.

It’s crazy how life unfolds and most of the time I like the unpredictability. I’ve learned many lessons so far and have gathered a few truths along the way. Recently, I was chatting with a favorite lady friend of mine about one of these truths; timing is everything…and I mean everything.

I absolutely believe that people come into your life at the exact time they need to and they also exit exactly when they need to. It isn’t one-sided either, they needed you just as much as you needed them.

Trust the timing of your life.

I can’t even count how many times I’ve shouted to the heavens, “What were you thinking, God?! Did I really need THAT experience?!” The answer is always, ” Umm, ya. Duh.” Okay, maybe God is a little more eloquent than that, but who knows.

Of course I needed the hard times, the heartbreaks, the challenges, and the people who seemed to be constant sandpaper, rubbing me the wrong way. Otherwise, life would be easy. I’d have no reason to grow, think deeply, talk about the hard things, be humbled, and forgive when I didn’t want to. Also, I’m fairly certain easy is boring and I’m not about that life.

Find your tribe.

I definitely don’t have it all figured out and I’m glad. I hope I never do. I hope I always question things and feel curious and occasionally still learn the hard way. I also hope I always have these wonderful people who let me know that while I am a bit crazy and weird, I’m not alone.

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Find your people, you will need them. When you find them, lean on them, love them, and be there when they need you…especially when they don’t ask you to be, because that’s probably when they need you the most. And if you’re lucky, your life will be messy, hard, and little painful. You’ll be better off for it and enjoy the fun, easy, happy times even more.

Wisdom for the Week: Stay away from people who don’t drink or dance. You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life.

In closing, Nina Simone. Good for your soul on a Saturday. xoxo

 

Simmer Down a Pinch

“The woman who does not require validation from anyone is the most feared individual on the planet” she whispered, posting another selfie.

Ladies, please.

Can we stop with the empowering quotes accompanying your third selfie that week. We get it, being single is your choice. No one can handle you. You look the same as you did two days ago. Thanks for reminding us.

Now, if you know me at all, you know I LOVE a good selfie…but at least I know I’m being a little vain. Embrace it, girls. Hair and make-up are fun. Feeling pretty should be celebrated, but c’mon, people don’t need daily reminders that you’re alive and your camera…err, phone still works. Simmer down a pinch.

Tuesday was International Women’s Day and I love to celebrate all that we are. I love women! I love them so much that I briefly(45 seconds) considered being a lesbian once. Then, I imagined what it would be like to live with another me. No thank you! Also, I prefer to be the pretty one in the relationship. See, vain.

All of the love for my gender aside, I have a couple of things maybe worth mentioning. Probably not, but I’m going to anyway because I never learn.

What’s with women in their 20’s and 30s getting Botox and fillers?! By the time you’re 40, you’ll have lost the ability to show emotions through any type of facial expressions. Are you mad? Happy? Sad? I can’t tell! I have a hard enough time figuring out who’s eyebrows are real these days. Also, men can hardly read us when all of our facial muscles are working. Simmer down a pinch.

As for me, I’ll stick with resting bitch face. It has served me well and saved me from many possible new friendships.

Let’s talk fashion for a second. Did floral leggings make a comeback? Wait, were they ever a thing? I don’t know, but for some reason I have seen numerous, ahem, ladies sporting these as of late. These skin tight pants/leggings come in a pattern that I can only imagine was ripped off their Nana’s 1992 sofa from her “Formal Living Room” and sewn into two hideous leg prisons. Simmer down a pinch.

The last thing I ever want to be is a woman who shops for a “sensible pant suit”. I’m mostly a jeans and cute top kinda girl, but I think we’ll all be better off if this trend makes it’s way to small town, USA with a quickness. I’d rather see Culottes make a comeback than have to endure these walking rose gardens all Spring. From my lips to God’s ears, please banish them. Amen.

These few annoyances are minor. I think women are amazing. We’re strong, smart, creative, crazy, loving, talented, crazy, beautiful, and some of us even smell good. Keep on keeping on, ladies! You do you. Even if it means having an immobile face, legs covered in chrysanthemums, and posting daily selfies. I will still love you….from a distance.

A parting note: If you’re a woman and are planning on voting for Donald Trump, kindly hand over your ovaries and form a line to the right because that shit’s ridiculous.

Someone wrote yesterday, “You just know Donald Trump is an unsolicited dick pic kinda guy.”

And I thought….yep, that about sums it up.

 

 

Tremors

Last week, I almost fell over while putting on my jeans. Needless to say, I’m not the smoothest of characters. I feel like I’m going to need quite a bit more time on this Earth to become my best self.

I made a step in the right direction today at lunch when I purchased and devoured this bowl of deliciousness..

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Then, the Earth shook…like, 4.8 magnitude shook. I hate to break it to my 3rd grade teacher, but there was no ducking or covering. All that training was in vain because I literally just sat there. My mind flashed back to the conversation I had with God on Saturday after Trump won the South Carolina Primary. It went something like this, “Lord, it might be time to flood the Earth again. Amen.” I not saying my prayer prompted the Earthquake, but I’m not not saying it either.

The second thing I thought was, TREMORS…

One of my coworkers yelled “Shit!” and took cover under his desk, making him my favorite person within a two mile radius.

After the shaking stopped, I did what any normal adult would do. I bought a bag a Funyuns and consumed them immediately. No way in hell I’m letting the last thing I eat in life be fruit. Not on my watch!

It isn’t my time to go, I have so much left to do. I still haven’t mastered the skill of remembering where I parked my car after going into CVS for 10 minutes. In fact, I’m only at CVS because I think having a $2 off coupon justifies me spending $47. I need help.

I have to stop the unnecessary remixing of songs that were just fine as they were. Not every song should be remixed, people!!

Mind you, this is coming from a person who passionately sang along to the song, My Humps, on the way home from my Allergist’s office today where the nurse called me “Sunshine”. Me, Sunshine. She clearly doesn’t know me at all. I can’t leave this Earth being so misunderstood.

Side note, somebody tell Selena Gomez and her adorable chipmunk cheeks to please keep her hands to herself. I’m really uncomfortable hearing a Wizard from Waverly Place sing so seductively on the radio. Stop it.

The point is, unless The Rock will be swooping in to save me, there need not be any more Earthquakes in my neck of the woods. Thank you, kindly.

I feel like you all should know that I’m typing this next to my boyfriend who is watching a Telenovela. El Señor de los Cielos to be exact.

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Aaaannd, he just farted. I’m living the dream. Sleep well.

 

 

 

Say Anything

Some days I think I  have my shit together and some days I seem to have lost my ability to count. I have somehow developed the nervous talking habit John Cusack had in the movie Say Anything which is, evidently, not as endearing on me.

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The following is an account of my lunch hour yesterday because I know you all care so deeply…

I spent a solid 60 seconds trying to remember if I put on underwear. As soon as I figured out that I wasn’t going commando, my thoughts shifted to my dogs. I made a mental note that I needed to get new name tag for my dog. He’s currently sporting the name tag of a dog I fostered last year because, hey, at least it has my phone number on it. This is probably causing him to have some kind of identity crisis and feel like he doesn’t matter as much as my other two dogs. Then, I’m like….dude, you’re worrying about the emotional state of a creature who has chased his own tail for 6 minutes straight. Chill.

I arrived at a gym nearby my work because in a moment of poor judgment I agreed to get a membership so as to join two of my coworkers for lunchtime cardio a few days a week. I know, but this is who I am now. As I’m discussing the deets of this torturous arrangement, the guy asked me what my fitness goals were. I paused and said, “To never check in on Facebook?” Clearly, he’s now going to take me about as seriously as I take myself.

I left and immediately started to scold myself. I was all, “Jesus, Mary & Joseph, can you just act like a freakin adult for 5 minutes?!”

About a minute later, I forgave myself for my juvenile ways and headed toward Panera because nothing starts off a new healthy lifestyle like a cup of Clam Chowder.

On my drive back to work I started eating the French Baguette they always give you. Let me be clear, there is no lady like way to eat a Baguette while driving. I looked like a character out of Game of Thrones who’s been on a long journey and has just gotten her hands on some nourishment. I kept eating it because, bread.

As I’m driving, I think….Have I heard from Pops lately? I try to recall if I’ve gotten any emails from him that day. Listen, if your Dad doesn’t email you weekly about an article that he found interesting, is he even you Dad?! I actually look forward to these emails because Pops is the best thing since chocolate and you know what, maybe I DO want to know how to properly store tomatoes in my kitchen so they maintain their fresh deliciousness!

I arrived back at the office and suddenly remember that at 7 years old, I thought becoming a Librarian would be the bestest thing ever because BOOKS…and I also had a slight obsession with wanting to scan barcodes. A grocery store checkout clerk was a close second to the coolest job a person could have. Whatta weird kid. Anyway, that’s a life long dream that will probably never see the light of day.

In a moment of rare silence, I think, am I the only one pretending to be an adult around here? Am I alone in feigning maturity all damn day?! Is the ridiculous train leaving the station with only me on board??

At that moment, the phone rang for the 73rd time and I shouted, “not it!” because I. Can’t. Even.

 

 

 

Shout-Outs

Today brought to my attention some much needed thanks to be given and shout-outs to be heard so here goes.

Shout-out to my ex husband for sharing “how happy he is that he divorced my ass”! Point of fact: I divorced you and, while I like to give credit to my ass for ALL of it’s amazing abilities, let’s thank all of me for the blessed event. That was a super fun walk down memory lane. You’re a peach.

Shout-out to the woman in the stall next to me today for peeing with the force of Niagara Falls, thus making me feel like the daintiest lady alive. Holy, Mrs. Doubtfire!

Thanks to my coworker for agreeing with me that Marie Callender’s pies being $7.99 this month does, in fact, justify having a pie party at the office. (Now taking place on the 11th, you’re all invited)

Shout-out to my right eyeball for having the tiniest speck of annoying dust in it for the last 22 hours and making it look like I have a twitch or am hitting on every person around me.

Thank you, teenage daughter, for getting your nose pierced…causing me to have an actual twitch.

Shout out to my son for telling me that you love me more than everybody, but being sure to still call me a “party pooper” weekly, just to keep me humble.

Thanks to the Salvadorian Rancher/Attorney that happened by our office for the delightful story about your turkey who I’m sure really is in a better place, may he rest in peace.

Shout-out to my boyfriend for taking me seriously enough when I’m pissed off, but not seriously at all when I over think what you hypothetically considered doing in a dream I had. (How could you?!) All the while, being remorseful of your almost actions in my subconscious. You are a modern day prince charming.

Thanks to my best girlfriends for promising to live out our golden years together like Blanche, Rose, and a pinch of Sophia. As previously agreed upon, none of us will be playing the part of Dorothy. We’ll have game night, make mixed drinks, and never wear pants! I love you more than Bloody Mary’s, you are my spirit animals.

Shout-out to my 7 year old niece for the conviction in your voice when saying, “I’m serious, for reals!” You are a force to be reckoned with and I take you seriously, always.

Shout-out to me for audibly talking to myself out in public on a daily basis. Thanks for being weird.

Hey, Gabrielle Union, thanks for Being Mary Jane. You’re beautiful and talented. Let’s do lunch.

Shout-out to Benadryl just for being you.

Thanks to my Mother for teaching me the importance of learning to laugh at myself. I’m becoming a pro.

Thanks to my Father for proving that love really does conquer all.

On a genuine note, thank you to all of my people(you know who you are) who have my back and tolerate my crazy. You’re the bee’s knees. I love you all. I’m serious, for reals.

Last, but certainly not least…Thanks, God, for always reminding me how very much I need you. Clearly, I can’t be left to my own devices.

Emotional Intelligence

Yesterday, my psychologist told me that I’m very emotionally intelligent. Wow. Really? As evident by my last blog, I very much feel like a mess at times. Well, thanks. Guess I’m not crazy after all. I find her statement to be a compliment of the highest order because I truly feel that having high emotional intelligence is even more important than having a high Intelligence Quotient. Since this feels like an award, clearly I have a speech to make.

First, I’d like to thank my parents for having me and for raising me in an almost perfect way, but while making sure to give me just enough issues to fit in with society.

I actually read the book titled Emotional Intelligence years ago…

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so thanks, Daniel Goleman, for writing it.

I’d also like to thank the private, Christian school I attended from 1st through 8th grade for the incredible friendships I made and for making sure I will never want to have too much to do with organized religion. Speaking of…thanks for making me wear a skirt once a week on Chapel days and thanks to all the boys in Jr. High for standing under the stairs while us girls walked up to class thus giving me my first taste of sexual harassment.

Thank you to my Interpersonal Communication class in college for teaching me how to communicate with others effectively, no matter how stupid they are.

Thanks to my sense of humor for apparently keeping me fairly sane all these years. I don’t care how irreverent or offensive my humor is…FUNNY TRUMPS EVERYTHING.

I can’t forget to thank Florence and the Machine for the music and lyrics that got me through some dark times.

On that note, shout out to Lil Wayne. I can’t explain it, but he gets me.

Aaaaannnnddd it wouldn’t be a true acceptance speech if I didn’t thank God for everything. I’m not wearing 20 gold chains or winning an award for Best Rap Video, but I’ll thank God just the same. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s define emotional intelligence…

The ability to perceive, control and evaluate emotions.

I love that the definition says “and” not “or”. Having the ability to do ALL three of these things is a must. In fact, I would go one step further and add Communicate  in there….but I’m a talker so that’s just my preference.

The ability to perceive emotions means not just our own, but others’ emotions as well. This is tricky because we all view the world differently and take in information differently. Also, since we’re human, we have all been damaged in some way and these scars can change our view. I think of it like this…we all have experiences in life, some negative and some positive. Every experience adds a filter to our view of the world, ourselves and others. This is part of why everyone has a different “point of view”.

The world is not black and white. It is gray. I’m sure there are those that feel it is black and white, that there is always a right or wrong way. To those people, I say…try out a few therapy sessions, take the MBTI indicator test and learn a little about how different we all are and why there can never be just one way in life.

It goes without saying that those who cannot control their emotions are screwed and should seek help.

Evaluating our emotions is only possible if we are aware of our emotions. Awareness is so important because far too many people like to bury their heads in the sand and shove things under the rug instead of dealing with what they’re feeling. Guys, I know it’s a little scary, but excavating what you are feeling and processing it will be much less painful in the long run. I think communication actually falls under the evaluation part of this process. If you have any kind of relationships in life, you will have to be able to evaluate your emotions and effectively communicate what you are feeling to those that are important to you.

Everybody is going to have pain and deal with rejection at some point in life. It is how we deal with these issues that determines how emotionally healthy we will be. It is how we teach our children to deal with these issues that determines how emotionally healthy they will be.

Is it easier to pretend that everything in life is fine when it’s not? Sure, it’s easier…temporarily. I was a person that stayed in a bad situation for far too long for what I thought were the right reasons. Also because change is scary and saying goodbye is tough, but sometimes it is necessary.

Here is a quote from the next book I will be reading….

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The book this quote is from….

yhst-20550167876698_2167_10539471I’m excited to read this one. Yes, I’m aware that I am a nerd.

Look, if you’ve spent any kind of time with me, you know that I would love nothing more than to walk around with blow darts and a taser so as to temporarily incapacitate the stupid people of the world as I come into contact with them. I have been told this is illegal so I have refrained. However, should I ever win the lottery and have an endless amount of bail money at my disposal, I will move forward with this plan. In the meantime, it is clear that we all have to deal with morons so that is why I choose to read and educate myself on how best to interact with others.

Earlier I mentioned the MBTI indicator test. It’s basically a personality test(one that I have given to many people in my life). I find this stuff fascinating. There are 16 different personality types, here they are…

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Here’s the population breakdown….

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As you can see, we are all very different. Some of us just don’t mix well together, some of us just fit well together. No matter what though, we all have to deal with each other at some point. In a perfect world, people would all be emotionally healthy and treat each other with respect…but this is not a perfect world. I guess we can settle for, let’s all behave like adults and understand that we all see things differently.

Life is way too short to spend our days unhappy or living with regret. By the way, I’m an ENFP.