Soul Mates and Sisters

I love my soul mates.

They turned out a lot different from what I ever expected. 

Two or three are blonds. 

One or two are red heads.

One is Swedish-American.

One is Mexican-American.

One is African-American.

A few are your typical European-Americans.

The others have no idea their background which makes them just as charming because they know they're from Arkansas, Tennessee, and California. 

As a young girl I always thought that there was ONE soul mate for me, and he was amazing and my version of Prince Charming. 

Then I grew up. 

When you grow up with a few special friends you never realize how much they are a part of you, until you reflect on life.

Your deepest darkest secrets are intertwined with them as teenagers. 

Your bad decisions as a 20 something year old are comforted by their mistakes too.

Your self-identity as a 30 something year old is embraced by long talks with them.

Your survival skills as a 40 something year old are supported by their tears and laughter with you.

Your "I don't give a f***s" as a  50/60 something year old are celebrated by all of the above.

Your heartbreaks are glued back together by them over wine, dinner, and, one of my favorite emotional experiences, laughing through the tears. 

Your heart aches for them in return. 

They challenge you. 

They defy you.

They piss you off.  

They love you. 

They leave you. 

They return to you. 

And they always accept you. 

Thank you to all of my soul mates also known as my sisters for the greatest love affair of all, for each of you are my soul mate in one way or another. 

Prince Charming, I know you are still out there, and you will be a wonderful and additional extra in our silly book, called...

Are We Sure This Is My Life?

I'm The Kramer of Pink Ribbons (Seinfeld Reference)

Dear World,

I just want you to know I love you and appreciate you, as I appreciate every person's right to an opinion and their ways of expressing themselves. With that said, please do not approach me via email, text, Instagram or Facebook with any hype on the pink ribbon events coming up in October.

Yes, I am a woman who was diagnosed last November with breast cancer, and had pink ribbons thrown down her throat.  Long before the diagnosis, and since the pink ribbon campaign came out, I thought it was sweet, but I never bought in to it for some reason, call it insight.  I call it my subconscious mind knowing better all along.  

It is true that since the pink ribbon campaign mammograms have increased hugely, which is awesome, but what they don't tell you is roughly 18.8% of the money taken in each year by the SGK Foundation goes towards research, the rest of the money goes towards paying the big wigs' salaries and promotional events. They don't tell you companies, like Estee Lauder, who campaign pink ribbons have cancer-causing ingredients in their product.  I'm not hear to bash the foundation, because there are documentaries and your own time for research to discover all of that. I'm here to say, keep all your pink, because I prefer purple, not because purple represents anything it just makes me happy.

Yes, I kicked breast cancer's ass. I don't even like the word survivor. I prefer ass kicker, because I picture someone fighting, winning, and wiping off his or her shoulders and not looking back.  I am still doing what my heart called me to do to fight it, with my new lifestyle, attitude, nutrition, and holistic journey. My journey is not your journey and vice versa, therefore I respect any choice that is made to be healthy and alive.

I'm not asking you to agree or disagree with me, because I'm simply a woman who does not believe in the Pink Ribbon hype. I have researched for a year, the various causes of breast cancer (by the way the diagnosis I received was due to fertility drugs and being misdiagnosed for over a year). I've researched ways to prevent it, ways to keep it away, ways to fight it, and ways to love life. I wish you all the best, but please keep your pink ribbons, UNLESS George Clooney wants me to wear one (and nothing else) to his bachelor party, then I will rethink this whole thing.

Thank you,

Your
 Purple Loving Ass Kicking George Clooney Stalking Blogger  Extraordinaire

Top 10 Reasons Why Working For Yourself Is Great

I recently changed careers from teaching to being a Parent and Teen Life Coach, which means I am my own boss, and my name is my business. I love what I do, and recently I've discovered some of the perks, and here they are:

1.   I work the hours I choose.
2.   The boss likes my ideas.
3.   Going to work without a bra is an option and it's not even a political statement of any kind.
4.   The office is adorable, feminine, and comfortable.
5.   The boss lets me bring my kid to work every day.

My kid. 

6.   Sexual harassment is awkward and funny now.
7.   My work week is only 4 days a week.
8.   I'm never late to work.
9.   Painting my nails in the office is not offensive to anyone.
10. When the boss is being a bitch, it's OK now.

Dear Robin

Dear Mr. Williams, scratch that I feel like you are family.

Dear Robin,

I just want you to know how much you will be missed. I know you thought you needed to go, but so many hearts are broken.

You see every time I watch you in ‘Birdcage’ I feel like I’m watching my Uncle Dan and seeing you in this role always made me feel like he was with me.

And every time I see a rerun of ‘Mork and Mindy’ I’m reminded of how free I felt as a kid who could laugh out loud because that was the part of my childhood that was the most freeing. My mom had just kicked my abusive father out, and her and I were not being mistreated or controlled anymore.

Your Comic Relief shows with Whoopi and Billy were part of my early years as an adult, and I loved seeing and being validated with knowing others, like you, thought the same way so many of us young adults did with topics no one wanted to address.

Your role in ‘Dead Poets Society’ made me a better educator and a new found love for passion and poetry. You made us laugh; shake our heads, and even cry.

You brought my family together to see you in more movies than I can count. We actually had family outings to see your new releases from ‘Good Morning Vietnam’ to ‘Hook’ and of course ‘Mrs. Doubtfire’.  We loved you. We love you.

Yesterday when I heard the news I was completely devastated because losing you was losing more family.  Losing you was losing laughter and a sliver of hope. You reached everyone in my family from my grandmother to the youngest. I’m sorry you were hurting so badly on the inside that no one could help.  It’s dark there. I know.  

I have kept from posting along with my friends on social media, because there are no words. I do not know what to say but we love you, thank you for the laughter, for the family memories, and for being brave as long as you were. 

Lisa 

Angels

Angels do not wear just white, in fact the ones I know seldom wear white.
They do not have a soft light that glows around them to flatter their wrinkles or freckles.
Angels love when they make time for manicures and pedicures.
They do not have long flowing hair that moves in perfect flow.

Angels look tired.
They can wear house gowns with stains on them.
Angels have roots and their hair seldom looks like it should.
They wear comfortable clothes and love to get dressed up to receive compliments, because sometimes they feel forgotten.

Angels can be bald.
They can also be over weight.
Angels find strength to keep nurturing, caring, moving, cleaning, and going.
They even come across grumpy because they don't dare think about just giving up or in to the negative thoughts. They have them, but they don't give in to them.

Angels laugh when they can, and sleep when they can too.
They try to understand you and forgive you even when you break their heart.
Angels never stop believing in you even if they ask you a lot of questions.
They smile when they don't feel like it and they cry when they least expect it.

Angels fly off the handle but rarely do they fly alone.
They glow when they see you happy and safe.
Angels, they really do exist.
They are all around, just look over your shoulder.

Thanksgiving In July

Recently it has been popular to challenge your Facebook friends to a 'Thankful Assignment', which includes listing 3 things you are thankful for each day, for a week. I decided to post mine as a blog now that I have completed the challenge.

Day 1: 
July 28th 

1. I'm thankful that I'm not the same woman I was last July...I'm thankful for her too but her chapters are complete. 

2. I'm thankful I think more with my heart than my head...it makes for a more interesting life story. 


3. I'm thankful for my family & friends who chose to walk away from me when I was diagnosed...it makes for a lot less drama and room for more authentic people.

        Day 2: 
July 29th 

        1. I am thankful for the feeling of rain on my face. 


 2. I am thankful for chubby babies & dogs...If loving you is wrong then yadda, yadda, yadda. 


 3. I'm thankful my butt is already big and should I ever become famous I will not be accused of having implants. 





        Day 3: 
July 30th 

        1. I am SO thankful I can't relate to people when I hear them say they need to act their age. Ewwww...


 2. I'm thankful for Dean Martin's 'Volare.' It's a favorite pick me up.

 
3. I'm thankful that I'm that woman who sings and dances in her kitchen while cooking. 









        Day 4: July 31st 

       
1. I'm thankful for my eyelashes and eyebrows. 


       2. I'm thankful for my God Momma/Aunt Linda who still calls me Lil Lisa.   God bless her. 


       3. I'm thankful for Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night. 

























 Day 5: 
August 1st 

1. I am thankful that every day (Mon-Fri) that I have written these thankful posts it has been from the waiting room (right before I go in) for my radiation treatment. It has calmed me and kept me focused on what really matters. 

2. I'm thankful for the people in my life...I love how their paths lead me to my better path. 


3. I'm thankful for my story...it's a funny one. 

Random Thoughts From A White Girl

Yes, you read the title correctly, and I'm portraying the white girl this time.  As insane as some of these thoughts appear they have actually crossed my mind. I will leave it up to you to imagine my expressions that go along with them. Although I tried to recruit the random thoughts from some of my female friends none of them were quite willing to let go of their private thoughts. I completely get that, so I'm taking one for the team for your entertainment and laughter. 

1. I wonder if there is enough change in my car for a Starbucks run.

2. Do other women consider prostitution for their food addiction?

3. Hmmm I bet this cashier has no idea why I am really buying all these batteries.

4. Why do white girls get such a bad rap for being freaky in the sheets?

5. That guy is hot! Wait...a...minute...that is a woman! Wait...a...minute...does that make me a lesbian?!? 

6. Did God forget about me?

7. I hate this...forgetting how to walk down the stairs in the middle of walking down the stairs.

8. I wonder what it's like to be her.  Never mind she has some jacked up feet. 

9. Am I ever going to have sex again? And if so will I remember how? Oh, God, what if I forget what to do? And what if I finally get to have sex again, but I'll be too old and my knees creak during it. That's it! I have to go work out!

10.  Do they know their baby is ugly? Of course not, because all babies are beautiful. Right?