Am I Really Wishing a Brick Will Fall on the Head Of That B*tch’s Success?

It’s Lent, I know. I should not be talking like this. But the Oscars just happened and you can’t tell me all those who did not win are beyond thrilled for their colleagues’ success. Please.

In my own life, it’s like this: you know when you see someone you just can’t stand become successful at …anything? All of sudden people start coming out of the woodwork saying things like, “Congratulations!”, or “I knew you could do it!”, or “You are so great, smart, definitely not annoying, of course you got a promotion/million dollars/Congressional appointment!” It takes all my strength to not vomit all over my broken un-upgraded phone when I read these comments on Facebook.

Conversely, I am actually a very nice person. Ask anyone. However, a few people on this earth really irk the crap out of me – especially those who have wronged me. When said crappy people “make it,” I just can’t bring myself to be the better person and grant well wishes.  Bad girl. I know. I’m working on it. I’m not the only one.

Sometimes, people just can’t stand other people. And let’s face it; things are not going to change any time soon. Life is not like that crappy Kristen Bell movie, You Again.  You know the scene where arch nemeses Jamie Lee Curtis and Sigourney Weaver start throwing bows in the pool, then make up and become BFFs? Nope, never gonna happen in real life. People like to hate on others success. And apparently Kristen Bell movies (sorry Kristen, I really do like you!).

So why, even when we like the other person, do we become jealous? It certainly doesn’t feel good.

I think it has to do with greed.

We are grubby little creatures, wanting everything; even if we don’t need it.

Nothing illustrates this principal more than a two year old. If you give a two year old a toy dinosaur, she will be pretty happy. She’ll chew on it and smack it up against things. Pure bliss. But if the little tike sees you give her fellow toddler a toy camel? Hang onto your hats people because the sh*t is gonna hit the fan. She will go and try to wrench the poor camel out of the other child’s hand. If girlfriend can’t get it – tantrum city.

Why? She was so happy with the dinosaur.

Greed. I want I want I want.

Our great great great great great grandparents are staring down at us shaking their heads thinking, “Greedy Gerts! You know what my toy was growing up? The giant splinter in my hand. That and small pox.”

I bet they were jealous of somebody. Mostly likely that Dapper Dan who lived in town and did not have to do back breaking manual labor. There is always somebody who has what you wish you had.

But do you really want what so and so has? It might look shiny and nice, but is the awesomeness just an illusion?

Usually this grass is greener effect occurs when we are at our lowest.  Maybe we are questioning our own lives or the goals we have been putting off. I wish I had my own frozen yogurt store? Look how successful she is? Really? I don’t think so.

Just like the toddler who never even thought about a toy camel prior to seeing someone else with it, we too are like wee ones wanting what others have.  Perhaps we just need to be happy with what we do have, and strive to achieve the actual things we want in this life.

Easier said than done? Not really.

Isn’t it easier to go after one’s dream of writing a novel rather than stewing in front of your computer screen getting acid indigestion about Slutty Stephanie from High School running a successful Organic Baby Food company? Probably.

I’m going to try it. I plan to focus on my personal goals, and not what some other person has – especially one who I don’t even like. What a colossal waste of time.

So when that green-eyed monster starts creeping up again, ride it out and go do something you want to do.

Then just think of all those empty-handed broads from the Best Actress category.  Yeah, your life’s not so bad.

Am I Really Wearing Shamrocks and a Sombrero on Valentine’s Day?

Ah Valentine’s Day – the day for lovers. A day for romance. A day for hypo-glycemic attacks due to all the ingested chocolates.

No gracias.

I don’t do romance very well (check out last year’s post about it ). Thoughtfulness, yes. Gooey romance, no. I would actually like to go see the opening of A Good Day to Die Hard on this day rather than get a giant teddy bear.  It’s like those smarty candy hearts that say Be Mine or Cutie!  They get stuck in my throat like a wad of chalk. I find the whole running around for a gift too stressful. Can’t we just do nice things for each other without putting a big ass red bow on it?

A recently released book entitled The Norman Bar surveyed over a billion people (or something like that) about relationships. The author and her team of experts discovered that men crave romance more than women.

This I believe.

Not because men are more romantic than women, quite the contrary.  Women would just like everyday sh*t to happen around the house/in their lives because we are TIRED. Let’s face it, chocolates and flowers are nice, but they won’t make up for the moldy boxes of baseball cards hogging up the garage.

If you want to get busy gentlemen, take a looksey at the below list of traditional Valentine’s gifts versus what a chica really wants:


LADY: Wants him to throw away his trash rather than leave it on the couch for her to find in the morning. Then a hug.

H/B/MR. RN: Enjoys spontaneous hand-holding.

LADY: Wants him to “hold” his nail clippings all the way to the trash can.

H/B/MR. RN: Appreciates a kind word and knowing his efforts are appreciated.

LADY: The same. Especially if those words are, “Hey honey, why don’t you go lay down/hang out with your friends/stare at nothing for a while? I’ll take care of the kids/dinner/cleaning up all the dog hair.”

H/B/MR. RN: Excited by sexy underwear.

LADY: Excited his underwear made it into the hamper.

H/B/MR. RN: Wants to make dinner.

LADY: Wants to eat anything she does not have to cook.

Women want the romance just like you dudes. We love love and want to feel loved.  We like flowers and kind words just like any other human being. We just want it with a side of everyday actions.

So boys, when you are picking out those chocolate covered strawberries for your lady-friend, take a moment to think. Maybe the best accoutrement to go with the strawberries is mowing the lawn. Romance can take many forms. I know mine looks a little different.

But if my husband ever forgets to get me flowers on V-day I will beat him…with his box of soggy baseball cards.


Am I Really Jell-O Wrestling the Sixth Grade-Fart-Joke-Telling Version of Myself…And Losing?

Sometimes I forget I am a grown-ass lady. I still feel like that goofy chick at St. Mary’s Catholic School with braces, a tragic bob-haircut, and a mad crush on all things Esprit. I still think time is abundant, that I have my whole life ahead of me, all the while daydreaming about walking the red carpet with one of the Ghostbusters.

Then my daughter asks me for a Danimals and I realize, “Oh crap! I am actually responsible for someone else.”

How can this be when I clearly don’t have all my sh*t together? How can I raise a human being to be a contributing member of society when I have yet to “get there?” How can I take care of such a precious little person when sometimes, I just want someone to take care of me?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a worker in this life. I don’t sit back and let life happen; I get out there and get it done. But sometimes, well…I’m still a kid.

This vice-grip on my kid-brain has recently reared up and smacked me in the face –  specifically in the area of holding on so tightly (a little too tightly) to childhood ideals.

Case and point:  When I was five I used to dream of becoming a famous movie star. I envisioned myself wearing glittering gowns and performing some ass-kicking combat scenes on the silver screen, all the while AC/DC plays in the background. I moved back out to L.A. and then had my eyes opened. I love performing, I love acting, and I love lip gloss. What I realized I don’t love is the time away from my family/glass of wine at night/favorite TV shows/clawing for gigs/having other broads stare me down b/c I might take “their” part. It truly takes some balls to wade through the swamp of Los Angeles entertainment. I decided my balls would be better utilized elsewhere. So I moved to Boston. I performed there, had a great time, met even greater people, and even made a couple of films (clothes on thank you!).

For a loooooong time I struggled with the notion that I had “given up” on my dream. But I hadn’t. I was still acting, still performing, and having a blast. I just wasn’t doing it the way my five year old self imagined.

The same ideal can be applied to relationships. I am sure we all had some notion of what falling in love/meeting our soul mate would look like. I don’t know about you, but I did not even put one iota of thought into envisioning a relationship or the day-to-day of a marriage.  My daydreaming about “the one” was solely comprised of handholding and driving in a convertible on the PCH.

I know, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit too. The idea and the reality are two different things altogether.

So how do we reach a handshake agreement between the now adult and the then child? How do we keep the important dreams of our youth and adjust them to fit our current needs/life?

I say we give that damn kid inside us some respect, with a healthy side of reality.

Did you want to train elephants for the circus when you were a kid? Can’t let it go? Well, can you get involved at a program at your local zoo? It might work into your life a bit more than ditching your kids to ride around in a poop-smelling boxcar with Barnum and Bailey.

Was it your vision to head up a Hair Band and party like a Rock Star? You can still do it! Slap on a wig and fishnets and get some dudes together and jam it out. Might be more fun than trying to hunt down all the members of Aerosmith. Plus, they are all sober now and I’m pretty sure Steven Tyler goes to bed at 9:30 pm.

While not always easy, that is precisely what I am trying to do now – reformulate. I am a big-time believer in always having a dream, a goal, to sing so loudly and emphatically in the car other drivers are embarrassed for you, and to laugh until you nearly pee your pants (I may achieve this last one sooner versus later the older I get).

Remember, it is good to check in and be real with your inner dude or dudette. Say, “Hey man, I hear ya. I know it looks a little different, but how about we try this? What do you say?”  You might get farther than you imagined and please the both of you.

Then go grab a cookie and a beer and make some farting noises with your armpit. Bam!

**If you have a childhood dream, I would love to hear it! Share below and let’s see if we can get you to it!