They’re just words

Words words fucking words. You would think they would be easy, simple in fact, but nope. When you have 14 tabs open, the static is so thick that when you attempt to speak it’s gibberish, and you sound like you just played a game of telephone while drinking a bottle of tequila. So yeah there’s that.  

I’ve lost my damn words. POOF!! Into the atomsphere they’ve gone…just floating into space somewhere… 

I try to make since of them, but it’s like reading the alphabet backwards while at the same time patting your belly with one hand and making circles on top of your head with the other. I feel completely lost without my words. All I know are words. I write nonstop, but here’s the thing…the shit I’ve been writing is just that, SHIT. Smelly shit that is sitting in a paper bag on fire sitting on a front porch waiting to be stepped on. I am allowed to say this, because they are my words.  

When I go back and read this shit I realize I am being careful, so careful that it’s like I am tip toeing my way around so as not to hurt people or upset them. BUT what I am forgetting is it’s my writing, my words are written for me. For what I am going through, for the bullshit I need to vent about, or just the crap I want to say because I want too or need too. I love that others enjoy what I write and those that follow my blog know that it’s raw, that I don’t edit my writing, that it’s my journal in a way, and I love that everyone respects that.  

Now I need to stop being careful, stop walking on eggshells, or whatever the fuck it is I am doing, and get back to me. Get back to my normal. If I need to travel down the rabbit hole to find my way back I fucking will. I am over this shit. My fear or whatever needs to seriously take a trip into the fuck it bucket and be flushed down the toilet.  

Until next time…Sunshine, Sparkles, and Mother Fucking Unicorn Poop my peeps!! 



June 2022…Went back and forth on whether to share this on my blog, but in the end, petal after petal I decided to share. To often we hide how we are really feeling, because we are afraid of judgement. I say fuck the judgement (sorry Dad – I don’t think there is many more f bombs). Judge away, but remember to look in the mirror while you judge.

The water crystal clear, sand soft below my feet, I float freely along with the peaceful rocking waves. The clouds above fluffy, blocking the bright rays from my eyes as I drift calmly parallel to the shoreline. Looking down I can no longer see below me, the water dark. Where did the sand go? Darkness. Bubbles in front of my eyes, my chest swelling with pain. I can’t reach the bottom. How far did I float? Darkness surrounding me, enclosing, I can no longer see. I am numb, cold, sinking…

I’m drowning. Thoughts invade my paralyzed mind. I realize I am no longer holding my head high like I was just over a year ago. I tried to find the right path. Still blinded by darkness, I lose control, I am not sure there is a correct path, because lately no matter which path I choose I end up at the same dead end. Unknown depths of darkness in every direction as the pain fills my lungs I sink further and further…

The weight sits heavy on my shoulders. I am at the bottom, the sand rocky, poking my skin, making me uncomfortable. I still can’t see, can’t move, there’s so much pressure. How did I get here? I never wanted to be in this position again. The feeling of a scary dimly lit damp basement that smells of rotting wood and stale mold with no way out. I survived this once before. I was able to stand tall with both feet firm on the pavement, strong, not even the insane Nevada wind could push me over.

But here I was. Swallowed whole by the freezing lake. My chest on fire. Lost in this darkness. Nobody was going to be able to find me. The water too dark, too deep. I am a survivor. A fighter. I just don’t know how to get out of this situation. Lost in the depths unable to breathe, unable to scream for help. I can’t show my weakness. I have to be strong. My tears falling in solitude. I keep the dark thoughts to myself.

The pressure was building. It was becoming too much for my small frame to handle. I was buckling, the emotion was going to gush from every pore if the pressure didn’t subside. Still uncomfortable I laid there at the bottom wishing I could see, could breathe, could float to the surface. I just wanted to feel warm, feel the sun on my skin, and to stop this pain. Uncertain how I could do so. If only I had been wearing a lifejacket…

Would a lifejacket have saved me? I doubt it. With my luck somehow it would have been defective and I would still be in this position. I know how to swim, how to float, and even that didn’t save me. I was dark. How could I save myself? I seemed to be asking myself this over and over. Was I losing more of myself as the days went by?

I knew that I was the only one with answers on how to get help. Afterall, nobody even knew I was here. The further I drifted the colder the atmosphere grew. I am a stubborn one. I was shutting down. The pressure was getting to be too much. The last breath was holding on. My body was started to combust.

The darkness wrapped itself tighter around me constricting my movements. My ugly crying was loud. I vomited the ugliness I had been holding in too those close to me. I could feel the shock of what I spewed vibrating off their warm caring souls. The path that led to this was not one I saw coming, but I made decisions, ones I would never take back. Now I am drowning, seeing red, as I sink further.

Bubbles surrounded me. I couldn’t feel the rocky bottom. I could see again. There was light, but I was still under water. WHY!?! I said everything!!! I erupted like a volcano. It all escaped from me like a whitehead popping under pressure. Was I not clear enough? I don’t think I was. The snap and crackle were heard, but not the damn POP! Seriously. What do I have to do to be clear??? I need to get to the surface. Please!!!

I have realized I am going to float out here in the depths of the coldness for a while. No matter how clear I am, people will only hear what they want to hear. People listen to respond, not listen to listen and actually hear what needs to be heard. If they actually listened to everything one had to say they probably wouldn’t leave people helpless.

Although I am cold, frozen to be honest, I am responsible for myself; I am responsible for my attitude and efforts in life. I can be sour about how things are and not make changes or I can realize things are the way they are FOR NOW and start to make the changes necessary to make me happy. Not all things in my life can change. I have to decide if these things are worth making a big deal over or if they are things I just set to the side until I know how to handle the issue.

Letting go of things isn’t easy, but for my health it has become a necessary need. We all know Covid hit the world. I would like to say it just knocked me off balance, but it didn’t. It bent me over and had its way with me. Is it finished yet? Who knows. I am not a scientist, just a plain old human with common sense. Covid and I got real close this year. Instead of just a hand job it decided to rip my insides out and see if I could still survive. I couldn’t work. I ended up losing my job – thank you for fucking me without giving me the big O… And it just got worse from there. I like to try and stay positive, but it felt impossible through all of this. I was down in the dumps hanging out with Oscar. I tried to be happy, tried the whole fake smile bullshit, nothing was working. Until I let my stubbornness take over.

I decided to fight. I mean I already lost my job, was getting screwed left and right…how much worse could it get? I was determined to feel somewhat normal again. To be active, even just a little. I didn’t care if I had to use a rollator at my age. I was going to do whatever it took to start to feel like me again. Was it easy? Hell no. Even now it is not easy. The doctor told me it would take at least a year if not longer to feel 100% again. I still can’t exercise like I was. I still can’t go for 5k walks, I still can’t do a lot of things, but I am not giving up on being me. Does that mean I feel great? No longer depressed? I wish. I am on a path to recovery and every day I feel just a tiny bit better.

I would probably feel worse, but I already know that I am the only person who can control my attitude and my effort in this world. Sure, I can blame whomever the fuck I want that I am not happy or that my life sucks or that I can’t afford this or that, but you know what? It isn’t anyone else’s fault that I am not happy or that my life might suck, that I feel like I am drowning daily. I make myself happy and I let everyone that I allow in my life to add to my happiness. Those that are in my life help me make my life whole. I don’t want to depend 100% on others. I like being independent, but I recently learned we need to be okay with realizing we will never be completely 100% independent; we are all interdependent on each other. Which means I need to stop being so damn stubborn when someone is handing me a helping hand as I stink to the bottom.

There are kind hearted people out there willing to help when one is in need. Especially drowning to unknown depths, but I have to remember to be open and stop hiding the pain, the hurt, the ugly feelings, because keeping it all in only makes me sink further and further, beyond reach. If I sink too far, I might not be able to be saved.  If I want people to be honest and open with me, I better be honest and open with them.

Making the choices I have lately has helped me extremely. I have let a lot go, because of this, I can breathe again. I am still drowning, I can see sunlight, it is not enough to warm me up, but it is a start. I have much to work on. By starting this work, I hope that I will be able to reach the surface soon and maybe by the end of the year I will be sitting in the warm sand on the shore instead of at the bottom of the lake in the cold darkness.

We go through life either like zombies, with our heads held high, staring at the ground, on a leash, or a mixture. I can say I have gone through life doing it all. As I look around me and I see myself drowning I realize I am no longer holding my head high like I was just over a year ago. I am staring at the ground trying to find the correct path to go down. As the bubbles cross in front of me and I lose control I am not sure there is a correct path, because lately no matter which path I choose I end up at the same dead end. Unknown depths of darkness in every direction as the pain fills my lungs I sink further and further…

You can try and rescue me, but only I am in control. I know how to float; I know how to swim. I am strong, but sometimes I am weak. My stubbornness kicks in and I will survive once again. I AM.

Sunshine, sparkles, and mother fucking unicorn poop


Christmas Kitties

If you have cats, I am sure you talk to them as much as they talk to you. And if you do not talk to your cats, are you truly a cat person?? Ummm sorry I think not. Every cat person talks to their cats…tell me I am wrong? Also, if you are a cat person you know as well as I know they personally think Christmas décor is put out for their pleasure nothing more. It is for them and them only. They do not think they have to listen to rules once Christmas vomits. You can lecture them all you want, but they will just give you attitude.

We all have Christmas décor we love to make sure is out on the shelves every year. Mine personally is my Christmas village. I enjoy setting up all the houses, trees, people, all the little things that make the village what it is, but my cats like turning into Kitty Godzilla’s. They tiptoe around the homes, shops, churches while smacking the people, trees, and vehicles off the shelves or over with their little paws. While they are doing this, they just smile…swinging their tails talking to me with their happy little meow’s “yes, mom we know this makes you angry, but you will still love us and still give us our treats later” …

Next is the Tree…oh Christmas Tree how I feel so sorry for you…it starts out so beautiful, so perfect. Then slowly over the first few weeks of December it gets trashed. It starts to look like look Cinderella’s ball gown after the evil step sisters destroy it. The best part is they tell on themselves. I always know which one it is. Summer starts to tell her story before I am even halfway down the stairs. Stella Rose hides under the tree refusing to look at me. Not only that Summer only takes the ribbon of the tree, not sure why but she loves to chew on the damn stuff. Stella Rose is obsessed with the ornaments.

Every year I move all my Knick knacky shit out of the way to make room for my Christmas stuff. Especially since the Christmas village takes up a lot of room. My daughters and I moved it all. But I decided not to put the village up this year…I did not want to deal with Kitty Godzilla’s destroying the village and the tree, just was not in the mood. So, the shelves were emptied. Christmas vomited. But the shelves are so bare without the village. I should have just dealt with Kitty Godzilla’s maybe I would not feel so Grinchy and want to move to Mount Crumpit…

Since I decided not to put out the damn village Summer decided to go Godzilla on the coffee bar. We have slowly been redoing the kitchen and the coffee bar got a few upgrades at the same time Christmas vomited in the house. So, the same night Summer went cray cray on the tree she decided she was going to really test the limits and play on the coffee bar. Amongst the ribbon all over the ground there sat coffee stir straws. This was the same day she decided to tell on herself before I was even halfway down the stairs. Once I was at the bottom of the stairs, she was already under the dining room table. I could not figure out why, but then I figured it out. I picked up a straw, looked in her direction, and what does she do?? Looks at me then turns her head away and down…fucking guilty. And later I found more under a closed door!! I did not see her the rest of the day.

It took me a few weeks to get Summer and Stella Rose to leave the damn tree alone. They now just sit under it and bat at the branches to test the waters. I have found a few ribbons under the tree since then, but nothing like that day. They have not touched anything on the shelves this season and I must admit it kinda makes me wish I did put some of the village out or at least part of it. They toss their mice towards the tree and I like to think this is their way of playing with the tree without getting into trouble.

I guess next year the village is getting set up and I am dealing with half empty shelves right now. If anyone has an idea on how to get to Mount Crumpit please let me know!!

Sunshine, Sparkles, and Mother fucking Unicorn Poop!!



When they tell you to prepare your family for your death it’s difficult to wrap your head around what you were just told. How do you process that? How are you supposed to tell them? Do you tell your kids? Everyone already knew I wasn’t in a healthy state, but fuck. I was wasting away in front of their eyes daily. Rail thin. A walking zombie, trying to be full of life, always in a constant state of pain. In and out of the doctors, it seemed like it was weekly, between the several doctors I was seeing, the lab work…I still have the marks from all the needles they stuck in my arms.

Even as a stubborn black hearted bitch I started living in a different way. I lived free. I lived like it was always my last day. I made sure to laugh every day. To make everyone smile every day. To be the sunshine and sparkles in everyone’s life that I was apart of. I learned to love myself, my life, to be happy with what I had, to appreciate every day.

I started taking more pictures of everything. My kids, my family, the world through my eyes; I wanted to leave behind memories from my perspective for my children. I took more selfies for them. People probably thought I was a self-absorbed bitch, but I didn’t care, they didn’t know my story and they weren’t going too until I was ready to tell it.

My clothes were so baggy on me, but why spend the money to buy more? I just started wearing leggings more. If I wore jean’s they looked gross on me. I tried to eat more protein to gain weight, but it didn’t matter. I could eat whatever I wanted and I just kept losing more weight, it was horrible. It got so bad I was lucky if I weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. I knew everyone around me was worried, hell I was worried, but I couldn’t show it. I had to just keep smiling, keep living.

There would be days where I would cry all day at my desk. Some of the deputies would message me asking if I was okay, they could hear the pain, the tears in my voice. I just passed it off as a migraine. I didn’t want people feeling sorry for me. I didn’t need them to know, didn’t want them to know the truth. I just kept hiding.

When I finally had an answer, it was relief. I could breathe again. Or so I thought. One autoimmune disease means there’s another. My life has changed. But that doesn’t mean I am not the same damn sunshine and sparkly unicorn poop bitch everyone has grown to love. I am still here. I just have illnesses that unfortunately rule some of my days. I just try not to let them wear the crown every day, just some days.

Lately, they have been winning, but fuck them. They need to chill the fuck out.

Sunshine, sparkles, and mother fucking unicorn poop!!


smelly shit

Liars. We have all come across them and chances are we have probably told a lie or two; especially as teenagers…But when do you stop lying to yourself and others? One would think when you grow up, but that isn’t always true. When you are okay with lying or acting like you didn’t hear what someone said, you cannot get upset with the consequences. And why lie when you know you were caught? It makes no sense to me. Lying makes a person question everything you have ever told them.

Was it that difficult? To actually hear every word I fucking said? I guess it was, because only half of what I said was heard, and the sad part is, that part of what was heard, wasn’t even the part that I was trying to get across.

I hate when I get so angry, so frustrated, that my words become a tangled mess and what I am trying to say comes out completely wrong. It sucks big donkey balls. Like why? Why can’t I just be like “look blah blah blah” and it actually just be the words, the point I am trying to make instead of all the smelly shit that is plugging me up?

I will tell you why. Because if it was actually all the smelly shit then my life would be simple and why on earth would my life be simple? It can’t. If my life was simple, I would have nothing to write about. I seriously have my smelly shit life to thank for my writing. YAY! My shit is my cheerleader, it keeps spewing out so I can keep going….

Guess that means everyone who enjoys my writing can also thank my smelly shit. Let’s all thank it together…ready…,” Thank you smelly shit!!” ugh…okay no seriously, though, my life is the contributor to my blog, my poems, it all.

Let me get back on track here, now that we got the thank you out the of way. Okay, so as I was saying, I can never just have one point when I am trying to say what is frustrating me. I seem to always have several different points. Instead of saying one and then talking about it I just keep rambling. You’re probably thinking, “no surprise, just look at your writing”. Okay, yes, I know 14 tabs always. BUT it gets fucking annoying when I really need to get my point across or heard and it comes out with millions of others.

My problem, besides having all these tabs always open, is the simple fact that I bottle everything up. I can’t just spew word vomit the second something is bugging me and because of this it all comes out at once. I have been trying to work on it. I was getting really good at it for a while and then I am not sure what the fuck happened. It is like I lost my mojo for word vomit. I am not even sure how that happens to a person like me, since I am words. Maybe its fear. Yeah, lets go with fear.

Why fear? Simple. I am afraid of pushing people away. I keep my circle small and those that know and love me don’t mind when I explode and go off on my smelly shit word vomits, but when I bottle shit up it’s because I fear that what I need to say might get taken the wrong way and I have to make sure I put the words in an order that won’t hurt feelings or get mixed up and said in a way I didn’t mean for them to be said.

Should it matter if I hurt others even if they hurt me? Ummm yes!! I am not the type of person who likes to hurt others. I’m not the type to bend people over and make them take whatever I give them. Can I be mean? Can’t everyone? That doesn’t mean I purposely hurt others.

So anyways, I was venting, spewing shit, and it all came out as this ball of camel spit. If I could have hit myself in the eye with it…fuck it was all such a mess. Nothing was said how I had planned in my head. NOTHING!! And the best part…well the fact that what I said was extremely important and only half of it was responded too, yeah that was awesomesauce…NOT!!!

Like how could you take the part that was the least important and respond? Because that meant no confrontation? Such fucking bullshit. I can’t stand that. Have some balls people. I legit said what I had been holding in for months, waiting, waiting for the truth, and I just kept waiting like a damn fool. I couldn’t wait any longer and that’s when this nasty mess happened. And instead of responded to the part I held in for so long, I had to ask myself later if I had even made mention. I went over it all again…yup I did. But it didn’t matter.

When do you know their shit stinks? When you can’t tell the difference between yours and theirs. I had this dilemma. Do I say something or let it go?

I flushed the fucking toilet.

If I hadn’t, I would have driven myself insane. Not gonna lie I did drive myself insane for some time before I let it go. I had a decision to make. I didn’t want my shit to keep smelling. If they want theirs too, well that’s on them. I couldn’t let it get to me anymore. Afterall, I had made a choice to let things go.

It wasn’t easy, but I didn’t know what else to do. I am sure there will be plenty of more times that I will need to flush the toilet, because let’s be real, everyone has smelly shit from time to time.

The smelly shit I hate the most is the lies. If you want to lie to someone, remember karma is a bitch, and remember who you decide to lie too. You shouldn’t be lying at all. What kind of person are you if you think it is okay to lie? I certainly don’t want those type of people in my life. Since I flushed the toilet…adios…

Standing on the toilet seat watching it drain, not waving, not saying goodbye, because in the end making the decision to lie was goodbye. We all make our choices. We are all responsible for what we do. A lie told is a decision, the more one lies, the bigger the web grows, can they even remember the truth? Getting caught in their web as a victim allows them to keep lying, unless you know the truth, and you question everything – then the web falls apart and they grow weak. Weakness makes them flush the toilet on their own.

My smelly shit might be a mess, but at least I can say it’s honest. Now I just need to get over my fear.

Sunshine, sparkles, and mother fuckin’ unicorn poop.


watching through the window

Ever feel like a fifth wheel abandoned in a desert with its windows knocked out? And you’re sitting there watching life pass you by through the broken glass, the edge’s sharp; be careful not to reach out you might cut yourself. You just sit there watching wondering if this is supposed to be life; a movie like perspective. All, well most of my life I have felt like this; like I am strolling along in a movie just watching different scenes. I tend to keep my mouth shut, I stay silent, more often than not. My word vomit is usually ugly or so I think, because I just say what is on my mind, and most of the time it doesn’t seem to fit the script of the current scene.

I am a stubborn person. Have you ever been in such a stubborn state of mind, that stubbornness where you refuse to put fucking sunblock on and the sunbeams are radiating down on you like a fucking spotlight, “we see you and your moody bullshit”?  Then BOOM only half your leg is burnt. You have a crispy leg that you didn’t order, it hurts worse than a bitchslap, and then it tans (thank you to my genes)…then you look like a half-eaten dunked Oreo. WTF…

UGH! And okay here comes my word vomit…it always seems to come out at the wrong damn time. Like I said above, I feel like I am in a movie most times, I try to bite my tongue especially because the timing is probably bad, and because I have been told I am too forward…I personally don’t see the issue with this. I would rather someone be forward with me, than beat around the damn bush. If tears fall just hand me the box of tissues. I got my big girl panties on. Okay, okay…my word vomit well once I get going it flows like hot lava flows from your ass after you eat Taco Bell.

You know what I seriously dislike, maybe even hate, and hate is a strong word, because it takes a whole lot to make me hate something. Liars. Assholes. Especially asshole liars…liars spew lies which are worse than the hot lava Taco Bell causes. Nobody likes a fucking lair. But you gotta love when lairs think they are fooling everyone. No no, whatever pet or nick name you want to insert here, you just think you are. Take a closer look in the mirror or at your next selfie, we can all see through your bullshit. Only a bullshitter can’t see beyond their shit in the toilet. Nasty nasty. Clean that up. Do us all a favor and stop trying to feed it to us. We can see it, smell it, and we don’t fuck want it. Remember nobody likes a fucking asshole liar, or just a liar, so be fucking NICE and be HONEST!!

Also, if in life you no longer want to be someone’s friend, just stop acting like you give a shit; here’s my fucking word vomit…seriously. Stop secretly acting like you care, when you actually don’t, because if you did you would reach out. Remember that thing you have in your hand nonstop, yeah, it is called a phone, its used for more than social fucking media…it works both ways, I know it does. But I can only reach out so many times before I throw in the fuck it towel, because my fuck it towel is WORN THE FUCK OUT. Yup, I said it. HOT FUCKIN’ LAVA…oh fucking well.

I clean up well. My feelings have been run over time and time again. I decided a while ago quality over quantity and it was the best decision I could have ever made. Adults work through shit, they communicate. I can’t keep biting my tongue when I feel like my words don’t fit the script. I am the author of my own story and if I keep holding back, I am never going to be happy the way I deserve to be happy. So, word vomit, spewing out like I am not afraid anymore, like I dance, I am not afraid who see’s me dancing, so why should I be afraid to use my voice in the same way? I shouldn’t. I have shut my voice down over and over again. I can’t anymore. I won’t.

I am not going to just bend over and bite my tongue anymore. I am going to put a smile on my face, because I shouldn’t have to pretend to be okay with what is being decided for me. I am not a tumble weed rolling by a broken down fifth wheel with a lost little girl looking out the broken window needing a toilet for the Taco Bell that is about to run down her leg. I am not going to be that leftover McDonald’s that has been left in a car all day and attempted to be revived but the CPR failed…nope that is not me. I am a fighter. I am.

Sunshine, sparkles, and mother fucking unicorn poop.


my path

Sick. That is how I started the beginning of this year. Pale. Weak. Helpless. I could go on and go. I won’t bore you with that. Covid, horrible shit. Long Covid, even worse. Why? Well, because you aren’t just dealing with an illness for a few weeks. You are legit sick for who the fuck knows how long. Some days are better than others and other days just plain suck the life out of you; no energy, you feel like you are getting sick all over again, it’s a feeling you cannot explain. All you want is too just feel like yourself again or at least somewhat normal. Some days I feel like I could run a mile or two again, but I know if I tried, I would probably pass out after ten feet. My life has turned upside down over this. It has been a difficult transition, but I am coping with it better today than I was a few months ago.

Okay, on with my normal 14 open tabs…I have been home for four months, YES four months…hardly able to drive myself for any of it. Puzzle after puzzle, coloring page after coloring page, tissue after tissue of tears; I finally picked myself up and decided to do something about this nonsense. I could have sat here and let this virus continue to get me down, continue to rule most of my life, but then that wouldn’t be me. I am not that kind of person. I am not the person who sits there and takes it up the ass. If it’s up my ass…it’s because I want it there (sorry, not sorry).

I wanted a rollator (walker with wheels), because I was not going to sit there and watch the world go on without me. I have always been competitive and active. And here I was sitting there watching everyone play cornhole without me, I kept getting workout alerts on my Apple watch, etc. So, I was told I didn’t need this walker…like fuck I didn’t. I was so weak I couldn’t go up my damn stairs without losing my breathe, let alone shower without feeling like I was going to pass out. I stood up for myself and demanded this walker. I won…did anyone really doubt I wouldn’t? Bat the eyelashes, flash the smile…lol…insert the unicorn poop.

Yes, I started playing cornhole again. I was weak and still am at times. BUT today I am not using my walker to and from the car; I still need a chair most nights in between my throws, but I am okay with that. Slow and steady wins the race. Can’t just turn the oven on and expect it to be 450 degrees right that second…gotta have water for the water slide…Some things just take time. I am not always patient, but I am learning to be.

Sooo…lately I have been learning to handle this patience. It’s patience with my healing. At first, I was going to take on the normal approach…doctors and medicine…but it wasn’t making me feel better, it was honestly making me feel worse. I did find one doctor that actually listened to me, that would call and check up on me, that encouraged me to continue being strong in being my own advocate and the research I was doing. I was glad to find a doctor like this. It helped me with other doctors, but also made me frustrated when they didn’t listen. This is when I decided to take a different approach. I have always been very down to earth, so why was I not being this way when it comes to my body?? The hell if I know. Well, now I am. I have been feeling so much better. There is a reason most countries are healthier than the states are. There is a reason chemicals are horrible for us. LISTEN TO YOUR FUCKING BODY!!!

Besides the fact that I cannot eat gluten, I have gotten more cautious about checking the labels. I have also gone back to my daily protein shakes. I make sure I am drinking anywhere from half to a full gallon of water again daily. And no alcohol. I feel 100% better. I have energy again. I look health again. People notice. They comment on it. Even for my skin I have gone to natural products. We are what we put into our body’s and what we put on them; as well as how we treat them. If we respect our bodies, our temples; they will respect us.

In the small amount of time since I have started this new path, I have noticed so many differences and I couldn’t be happier. I am so thankful for deciding to make the decisions I have.

Yes, I still have my bad days. I still have my days of weakness where I can’t do much, but guess what, my body is still healing. I was told it could take a year or more to get back to a full recovery. I had to face reality. If I didn’t, I would not have been able to face every day. I would have just been a sad puddle of a couch potato feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I decided to get the fuck up and fight, fight for me. Why? Because who the fuck else is going to fight for me? By the time I get out of bed everyone is at work and school. It was and is up to me to move my body out of bed, downstairs, get some nourishment in my body.

If I had given up I wouldn’t have been able to watch my son walk across the stage in a few weeks to get his high school diploma, or see the excitement on his face when he told me about the internship he will be starting this summer, or hear about the exciting trip my oldest daughter gets to go on in a few years, or watch my youngest daughter join NJHS, enjoy daily conversations with my kids, my daily routines with my boyfriend, my family, my amazing friendships (I can say that because they are quality), the bipolar weather in NV, and life…I love life.

If only people would stop making excuses. I used to be a person who made excuses and sometimes I still do; especially when it comes to certain things. BUT I am trying my hardest to stop making excuses, because I want to feel better; mind and body, and those excuses get you fucking nowhere. Anyways, again get the fuck up off the couch, get yourself together, pull the stick out of your ass, and do what you have to do to make yourself feel better.

It isn’t up to the person sitting next to you to make you better, to make you happy, to make you feel on top the of world, because honey the only thing that is going to make you feel any of that on a regular basis is YOU! Sure, they might make you feel that way for a day, a week, but think about it, do they make you feel that way everyday of every moment? Probably not. They are not in your head, your daily, moment to moment thoughts, because if you are an overthinker like me you overthink it all. Stop waiting for others to make you feel what you need to feel. If you need to feel beautiful, remind yourself you are beautiful, because chances are you are; unless you have an ugly soul; I said what I said.

I make no apologies for who I am. You either love me for who I am or you don’t. Move on if you don’t. I don’t have time for haters. But, most all of us have haters who are secretly fans…*kiss kiss* wink wink* love you bitches…

Love who you are. Take care of you. Make sure you stand up for yourself. Get the help you need. Only you know what it is you need. Listen to you body. Be strong. Be brave. And remember sometimes batteries are your best friend…its okay I won’t tell…

Sunshine, Sparkles, and Mother Fuckin’ Unicorn Poop


her hell

I like to make people laugh, make their bad day better, put a smile on their face, and just over all be the sunshine and sparkles rather than the darkness and evil. But, right now I feel broken. I am in a dark place. I am lost. I feel like I was locked in a dark damp basement with no way out. The air is so thick I can’t breathe. It weighs me down. Makes my chest heavy, my body fatigued, and makes me feel ill.

My heart pounds as though it is trying to fight its way out of my chest. I swear if it had arms it would have ripped my rib cage apart by now. The knife in my back turns and twists like a wind-up toy as the room dances around me. I fall, but thankfully the wall catches me. The tears slide down my cheeks as I wonder how much longer I am trapped in this darkness. This maze with walls I can’t climb to see the way out.

Dependent. When I was in diapers. When I was a juvenile defying my parents. NOW.

My world has turned upside down once again. I am lost. So. Fucking. Lost. I hate depending on others. I am the chick that buys her own fucking flowers, who isn’t afraid to dance alone, who is the sunshine and sparkles for others, who is the positivity, and here I am not able to even fucking shower unless someone is home!!! I am screaming, crying on the inside. This air is so thick it weighs me down into a hell I haven’t been in, in a very long time.

As the weeks pass and my darkness only grows, I keep trying to find the light, the positive, because after all that is what I do. That is who I am. I do my research to find the light. To look at the bright side. To remind myself that this is not the end. This is just a new beginning. A new start. I might have to do things differently, I might have to plan ahead, and take more time. But I can’t let this define me.

I am determined to climb out of this dark damp basement. To fill my lungs without pain, to remove the knife, to put my heart back in its place, and to stop the world spinning around me. I know that I have a long road ahead of me, but I have overcome such darkness before and I will again. I may have challenges that lie in my way, but I have to remind myself that I am strong, that I can do this, that I have an amazing support system. I also have to remember some of the best advice I was given in December 2015 by a wise man; “adapt and overcome”. Those words have gotten me through a lot since December 2015.

So, maybe I am lost right now, not feeling my sunshine, sparkles, and let’s not forget the mother fucking unicorn poop, but I am going through a shit ton right now. Being home for five weeks (and who fucking knows how much longer), under what feels like lock and key, dependent on everyone, because you are so very ill, well who wouldn’t fucking feel lost, sad, depressed? AND you know what?!? I am fucking allowed to feel like this. I am allowed to be fucking scared. I am allowed to be angry. Frustrated. I can feel like I want to scream, cry, only want to eat ice cream and sushi… I am the only one who knows what my body feels like and it is SO SO SO FUCKING difficult to explain it. I want to feel like ME again. To feel like the Heather everyone knows and loves, but guess what, right now she’s not here. She is gone. She is in this basement. This basement she calls Hell.

As I sit here writing this, debating whether to post this, I remind myself people know you had the rona pneumonia, and in life there are always lessons if you pay attention. You learned a major one within the last year; I haven’t gone anywhere. I always post my blogs on my Facebook page so this one and the poem I wrote before this will not be any different. Thank you to all who have been there day after dark day. My boyfriend, my kids, my family, #6 & his girl, my bestie (yellow power ranger), my co-workers (cc/vegas), and my Cornhole family.



She was breaking,

Fragile as a grenade.

Tears fell down her dry cheeks,

Loud sobs nobody heard,

As she showered,

Burning her skin in the water hotter than hell.



Everyone downstairs,

Can’t hear her cries of pain.

Biting her lip,

Holding in the screams.

Waking up with blood on her lip.


Are they just a sad as she feels?

For the fog is dense,

Recalling them is difficult.

She sits alone,

Day after day.


Shows of randomness,

Paint the background.

Puzzles make the mind work.


She’s okay,

But is she?

For she is the only one who truly knows the pain.

Can anyone see?

Are they paying attention?

Maybe they are bored of hearing the same shit on repeat…

Lessons have been learned.

She floats above herself,

Her heart pounds within her chest as the room spins,


But she’s not.


She is not.


She is not.

What is this?


Nope, she won’t allow it.


Yes, but fuck.


She hides.

Oh, does she fucking hide.

Bursting at the seams.

Fragile as a grenade.

Biting her lip,

The blood streams into her mouth,

Holding in the scream,

Tears fall,

The hot water turning her delicate skin pink.

Stepping her wet foot on the mat,

Falling into the wall,

Sliding to the floor,


She floats towards the ceiling,

Her heart pounded outside her chest.


She’s fucking scared.


twirl in my chair

Lack of sleep makes me worse than I am when I am a hangry bitch. I am awful to be around. I am moody, emotional, cry for no reason, overthink (and think the worse shit), fuck it’s like I am a 15-year-old teenage girl about to start my period in need of some damn chocolate. Thankfully I have some amazing ass people in my life who set me straight, let me know when I am overreacting, and when I should just smack myself for being stupid. Lol. It’s good to have people like that. I can literally say anything and there’s no judgement. I mean I am going to say whatever I want to everyone, because it’s who I am and let’s face it, I really don’t give a shit who likes me or who hates me. I am who I am and will not change for anyone. Love me for me or move the fuck over and out of my life.

Okay, so back to this lack of sleep nonsense bullshit that makes me a cranky fucker. I switched jobs months ago and I have had to learn how to slow down. This has been a struggle in itself. As a 911 dispatcher I pretty much had ADHD and now as an admin assistant I twirl in my chair 80% of the day…lol. Especially now that we have started to fill the empty positions. I AM GOING INSANE!!! Sooo. Fucking. Bored. And to help with my ADHD issue I listen to true crime podcasts or music while answering the phone and handling my little bits of work…..

SOOOO….the other day as I am fucking twirling in my chair choking myself to death with my headphone cord I was asked if I was bored most of the day…(mind you I couldn’t touch any of the things that needed to be completed because I printed them and per policy another co-worker has to finish them)….my eyes about pop out of my fucking head and I so ever sarcastically answered with, “yes, because I have had nothing to do all day” AND since I can’t drown myself in tequila at work I put my fucking face condom on and walking my happy little ass over to the dark side and stuffed my face with left over Halloween candy while I joined in the fun conversations on the dark side of the building.

For Christmas I might need a padded room, straight jacket, and a pillow to yell into. But since I can’t sleep maybe I need a new pillow to help me sleep better…or idk my mind to be busy busy, but not 15-year-old PMS teenage emotional busy. I need adult busy, work busy. UGH…life could be worse, right? Right. I made my choice to leave a job I loved for a family I loved more, because I decided to make a life, not a living. I have definitely had my moments of “what did I do?”, but the memories I have created with my family since making this decision…priceless.

Yes, I may lack sleep, be a cranky overthinking fucking bitch, but in my heart, I know I made the right decision. Even if I have my moments of needing a padded room, stuffing my face with candy, and questioning my decision. But I sit here writing this knowing it’s all worth it, especially when I see the smiles on the faces of those I love when we are making memories, sharing stories from our days, hearing the laughs, and just sitting together in the living room.

I am making a life. Day by day. Memory by memory. Twirl by twirl. Sunshine and mother fucking sparkles.


Opening my window

I have been reflecting a lot lately. About many different things in my life. I have to constantly remind myself that things happen for a reason, most the time we have not a clue what those reasons are, but we keep moving forward whether it is with our heads held high or with them lowered to hide our eyes that show everything. I don’t know about you, but my eyes are like windows to my soul, my thoughts, my everything. My eyes literally are not my best friends. I can’t hide jack shit behind them. Even if I tried to hide my emotions across my face, my eyes be telling the truth….fuckers. They might be beautiful, but they don’t let me get away with shit!!

Maybe it is a good thing that I can’t hide my emotions, but there are times when I would really like too. I have noticed a difference in the way I am feeling though now that I don’t hold everything in until I explode like a shaken soda bottle. That is one thing I am thankful for. I used to hold everything in until I was boiling under the surface and then BOOM!!!! ugh it was ugly. Ugly tears, ugly emotion, ugly everything. But that is what happens when you have to hold it in, because you aren’t allowed to express yourself.

And now, well now I am able to express myself, all of myself. Sometimes I think that is a bad thing, until I share my spinning thoughts, and I am reminded it isn’t a bad thing to share how I am feeling. It is an amazing thing, for not only me, but for all those around me, for those that love me. I am still learning how to open up immediately instead of holding on for hours, a day, or longer, but I am getting much better. AND telling someone that loves me to push me, but to be gentle, makes all the difference.

So, there I go again getting off track, but whatever. By now you are all used too it. And if you aren’t you should be…lol… Ok so I have been reflecting right? On myself first and foremost, but also about my surroundings, things that actually affect me personally, and what is it exactly about that thing that makes me emotional or changes my mood in a flat second. I want to be aware of; is it me? Or is it something else? I keep saying I am broken, because I feel broken, like something is wrong with me, but reality, I am not broken, I have lived to make others happy so that I do not disrupt my environment for such a long time that it is all I know. And several years ago, I promised myself and my loved ones I would live each day as if tomorrow wasn’t promised. BUT then roughly a year ago I slipped back into old habits, because again, survival; don’t disrupt the environment.

Guess fucking what??? As I was reflecting the other day, I realized I am loved for who I am!!! Which yes, I have known, but when you have been broken down time and time again you often forget this. I was reminded of this during a conversation, an act, and being in his arms. I am not only loved by him, my children, but by so many, and they all love me for me, for my sunshine and sparkles, for my sailor mouth, for my humor, for being there for them, showing I care, I could go on and on.

I keep my circle small for a reason. I know who my true friends are. I know because they are the ones who love me, who don’t just say they do, and then use me. My circle is small because they have shown me in many ways I can trust them and no matter what they will always be there for me and I for them. I don’t need 400 plus friends on Facebook, because I guarantee you when I had that many the majority of them weren’t really my friends, they were just spy’s or wanted to feel important by having their friend number high. My list gets smaller, someone might get added, but I know that those on my list I can trust. When you are older you start to understand and begin to realize what is the most important. Some people mature and make mature decisions in life and others do not grow and instead make immature decisions and lose everything they wish they still had.

Life is full of choices. Choices we all make for ourselves. Choices we try to blame on others when things don’t go our way, but let’s face reality, we all know right from wrong. So, when we face a choice where we could lose it all and we choose wrong…you honestly have nobody to blame but your fucking self…grow up, own your choices, and face yourself in the mirror every day after, because you are the one the has to live with the consequences.

So, reflecting. My attitude, the way I live each day, how I respond to situations, that is all up to me, nobody else. I have noticed when my attitude gets gloomily and when I get salty. I see a pattern. Can I blame others? Maybe, but would that be fair to them? Hell fucking no. Why? Because if I haven’t been adult enough to have a conversation with them on why I got upset or salty, pissed off or walked away, that isn’t on them…it’s on me, because I did not speak up first. Sure, it would be easy to point the finger, but seriously where the fuck is that going to get me? Ummm, fucking nowhere.

When I am living life to its fullest, I also notice. When you pay attention and stop pointing the finger you really start to see the whole picture and not just the pieces that are in focus from a selfish point of view. I thought I allowed my walls to fall around me, my moat to be free of predators, but I was wrong.

My walls were down when I decided to live to the fullest years ago, then I put them back up. When I thought I let them down again I was wrong, so wrong. One of my bitches told me the other day “my walls might be down, the blinds might be open, but I haven’t opened the window yet”…well shit. More reflecting after this as you can imagine…

Reflections, choices, and life. All amazing combinations when you get the right lock and key, but until then the chain is a horrible mess of a knot, until you are ready to face the reality that you can either constantly be terrified of the negatives that might happen or live facing the sunshine glowing in the radiant positivity of what could go right.

Sunshine and mother fuckin’ sparkles…  



Laughter. It’s supposed to cure everything, but it doesn’t fix everything. Sure, it helps in the moment. It is better than letting the tears fall down my fucking cheeks…AGAIN. But here I sit. Laughed my ass off for a moment, shook my head, and walked back in the house to face the never-ending disaster.

Sweating like a fucking pig at night is wonderful. Let me tell you, NOT! But that is what happens when the air conditioner decides it wants to stop working in the middle of the summer. I just love sleeping in a pool of sweat, said no one ever! I knew I needed to change the air filter and silly me bought the wrong size. YES! Way to go…sooo shopping trip…and I have a blonde moment and can’t put the stupid thing in.

I have a lake in my kitchen. Don’t even have to drive anywhere. Let me set up my beach chair, umbrella, and lay out my towel…I just need a sun light to keep my tan going, because I don’t have skin like my siblings…

FML…things happen in three’s right…

I sound like I am a whiny little bitch right now…oh fucking well. Maybe I need to whine, maybe I need to cry, maybe I just need to yell and scream my fucking head off, because I am frustrated with a lot of different things right now…like currently my foot keeps cramping…my toes look fucked up, and I want to cry, because I am in pain, but I won’t instead I am going to write one long ass sentence whining like a baby back bitch internally laughing at myself.

I like that I am able to laugh at myself and the shit that happens in my life, because my life has been an on and off shit storm. But I am proud of myself, because I am able to handle the shit that is thrown my way. Sure, I may cry, I may get frustrated, I might need to be held tight, vent, but guess what? I am fucking human…I am not perfect and I would never want to be.

I have been through shit. Who hasn’t? but we can either let it define us or we can hold our heads high, roll with the punches, laugh, and keep on finding the light in the darkness that rolls in with the storms.

I know I have my moments when I can’t find the light in the darkness, but I have love that is my strength in my weak moments that lifts me up, gives me strength, and keeps me going.

Laughter, sunshine, and mother fucking sparkles…


Sleepless nights

I recently had to revisit my past. It wasn’t easy at all. Emotions were brought up that I had forgotten. Thoughts and memories that I had hidden in the back of my mind came rushing back. Sleepless nights. Tossing and turning. Fears. The sounds. Tears would slide down my cheeks as I cried myself silently to sleep. I felt broken all over again.

It took me years to rebuild myself. Fear of dark corners, hotels, pillows and blankets over my face, and people thinking I was lying about my story. There are times when the PTSD still hits out of nowhere and rocks me to the core. Even though it’s been almost 20 years. An emotional roller coaster, one that took everything I wanted, one that I allowed to control me for longer than I should have, but even if it happened now, I would probably be the same emotional mess, just older, stronger, and able to handle it a little different.

But as I was rebuilding myself from a horrible event, I never thought I would face I was facing another battle. Ugh…what in the hell…I felt as though I was living in hell. I kept asking myself what I did to deserve the things I was going through. I repeated over and over again that there is a reason for everything…this seemed to help me get through. Even if I didn’t understand it at the time.

I was a survivor. For some reason I just kept pushing through all the shit, the hell, the pain, and ended up stronger every single time. Still wasn’t sure why.

More hell. Fuck my life. But I will survive. I have time and time again. This was a different kind of hell though. I lost friends. I lost people that I thought cared about me, that I cared about. People lied to my face constantly.  

Eye openers were happening all around me, but I was not paying attention. Instead I decided to ignore all the signs that I should have paid attention too and kept telling myself things would change. Of course, they did not change, they got worse.

As things seemed to get worse, I grew stronger, which did not help. I began to become independent and realized my worth. This was great for me, but felt like a threat in my environment. I had to make decisions. Stay strong, grow stronger or go back into my shell and hide everything I felt.

At this point I had some amazing people that helped me stay strong and keep pushing myself to heal and stay positive. And this time I was ready to see to all the red flags. I could see them like neon signs. They were bright, flashing, in my face telling me to pay attention for my own benefit.

I was finally this strong, beautiful, confident woman. I felt unstoppable, but I still had moments of weakness. Who does not have those moments? We all do. We are human. Not a single one of us is perfect. I know some people hide their emotions and think that it is for the best, but I am not the person that can hide. I wear them on the outside. Everyone can see them. I used to hate that, but now I see it as a strength. I am not able to hide anymore. I am called out on my bluff when I do try. This was challenging for me and honestly still is, but it is something I am still working on.

I like that I am able to admit I am not perfect, that I have things I am still working on in life even at the age of 37. I have had to walk on eggshells, I have had to have plans I never thought I would, I have had to pretend I was okay when I was not, I have swallowed more feelings than I care to admit, I have PTSD, and I am still learning to be open and trust easily, but it is difficult to trust and be open for me. I have been open and trusted easily and it hurt me big time. I told myself I will never open up again immediately, that I will slowly open up as I learn to trust the people in my life. I closed doors, closed up, built giant walls. But I am learning how to open up again, to let my walls down. I am doing well, but still not as well as I would like.

As I reflect on my past, I realize I am the way I am for many different reasons. There are things I never thought I would face in life when I was younger, but I faced them, I survived. Because I am a survivor, I have been able to help others, inspire them with my life experiences, and show people that no matter what you go through you can get through it while shining bright.

As a teenager I saw my life going a whole different direction, but it did not. I am not living where I thought I would, I do not have the career I thought I was going to have, I do not have the life I thought I would, but right now, in this current moment I can say I am happy. That even though I would never want to go through the things I have faced again, I am happy that I have, because my experiences have made me who I am, and have allowed me to have things in my life that I did not think I would, and this makes me okay with the pain, the hurt, and the memories.  

Fear. It is one of those funny things. It can sometimes hold us back or make us do things we regret. My fear is if I let my walls down any further, I will regret it, because I am afraid of scaring people away. I have been told I will not, but my past tells me otherwise.

I need to stop being afraid of getting hurt and let those that care in. I have let my walls start to fall, as they fall, I am letting more out, but there is still hesitation, and the hesitation is a weakness I hope to overcome soon, because I have no reason to be afraid anymore. I have things I need to work on, which I am, and I am still learning, but life is a continuous lesson. I hope that as I continue to learn throughout my life that I will continue to grow as a person.

I am strong, but still weak. I still have issues. Remember nobody is perfect. We all have things we stare at, but refuse to face. We all have fears that scare us beyond belief, but we hope to get past them one day. We all worry about small things we have no control over. We have all survived some kind of event in our lives that changed us in ways we never thought possible.

 It is up to us on whether or not to let these things control us and our life, or whether we take our life into our hands and take control of it. I decided to take control.

I survived the things I have for a reason. I still do not understand the reason for all that I have gone through, but I am finally okay with that. I have realized that the things I do understand I survived them, because I needed to go through them to help others.

Life is what we make it. We have the power. No matter what I go through I continue to stay strong and shine bright. I hope that I can pass that onto my children. I hope that they see me as a role model, someone they can look up too, and know that even when things get tough there is always a reason, one they may not have the answer to immediately, but that they will be okay and that they always have me to help them get through it and to help them stay positive.  

Revisiting the past was difficult. I lost nights of sleep, felt weak, but being able to reflect and share has helped me see just how far I have come in life. The tears slid down my cheeks, covered my pillow, as I shook with more emotion than I could handle I was held tight. In this moment I knew I didn’t have to be strong alone. I have an amazing support system. When we go through tough times, feel weak, sometimes we need extra strength. We need to be able to lean on those who care about us most. Never be afraid to lean.

Sunshine and Sparkles.


no straight lines

Sometimes I just start typing and the words just flow. I literally have no clue where the words will take me, but I end up creating a messy masterpiece that I enjoy reading and sharing. Sometimes my writing even gives me an insight as to what is bothering me or even helps me organize the jumbled mess of thoughts rolling around inside my head; my thoughts are like my conversations…lol. Too many at once.

Like right now I have these thoughts, these words, all these different things I wish I could scream at the top of my lungs…BUT I can’t…why?? Well, first of all I STILL SOUND LIKE A FUCKING MOUSE and can’t yell, I can hardly fucking talk, and second, because I am too fucking adult…ugh why must I be mature at times? BAHAHA…OH that’s right, because I am 37 and decided growing up was the smart thing to do. So instead I sit here typing on my laptop, hearing the clicking on my keys, the silence from my mousy voice, even though I am screaming from the inside, laughing at my childish thoughts as I act adult…

Adulting fucking sucks sometimes. I would never want to go back to being a kid or teen, but fuck, there are times when I just want to be so juvenile. I guess that is why we drink, party, get shit faced at times as adults, those are our juvenile moments. Those are the moments we can act like complete idiots and be immature dumb fucks as long as we don’t take it too far, right? I mean who doesn’t like to lean over the trash can or toilet every now and again vomiting up their guts like they did as a teenager or go to bed with the room spinning like a carnival ride, and not to mention the morning after hangover…the greasy ass breakfast with the Bloody Mary or Mimosa. For sure worth all of it, right?? Just don’t forget to hydrate and you’ll be all good…hehe.

And what about the bills, chores, and the responsibilities…fuck a duck. Like seriously. Who told us being an adult was fun? Oh wait, I was told to slow down, you don’t want to grow up too fast, and in all seriousness, I couldn’t wait to be a “grown-up”. WTF was I thinking? Obviously, I wasn’t.

And now with mini me’s of my own it’s like do you give them the same advice, “slow the fuck down, adulting sucks ass, and life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be!!” LOL…nope, you hope that you have taught them well enough that they will be able to survive this “adulting” shit and that you did the best you can, lol, just kidding. But seriously, my kids, they are close to being on their own, well at least one, the other two are getting closer, and all I can do is hope that I can teach them to slow down just a little and enjoy their teenage years without giving me too many more gray hairs, because seriously getting those things covered cost a shit ton. I should start making them pay for my salon visits…hmmmm…HAHAHA!!!

Sometimes adulting can suck, but sometimes it can be tons of fun. It just depends on how you look at it and what you are doing at the moment. Deciding to grow up was the best decision I could have made and I know that. When I want to scream, shout, and say the things that I know I should not say I call my bestie and we have laughs, lots of them, and sometimes we laugh so much we cry. But right now, without my voice these conversations are difficult and that fucking sucks donkey balls. So, for now I write…

Sunshine and mother fucking sparkles.


damn walls

My walls have been massive tall giants for a very long time. At one point I even built a super deep moat around my walls to protect myself. But now I am sitting here, well I am usually standing there, when he looks into my soul, and can see what is floating around in my head or can feel the vibes radiating off my body. He gives me this smirk, because he knows it drives me crazy, but I don’t want him to stop. I like that he isn’t afraid to call me out on all my shit. But my fucking walls…UGH!!!

They have been up for so long that they have these nasty long thorns wrapped around them that they even scare me. I try so hard to break through them and every time I think I am there I hesitate and then BOOM I crash into my own damn wall…like fuck Heather you aren’t blind. You are a strong badass fucking rockstar of a woman. Let them down…this is the word vomit the floats through me as my bullshit radiates off of me and I stand there stuttering like a fucking monkey who doesn’t know what to do with a banana…

Then there’s my BFF’s and my daughters who like to fuck with me and ask if my walls have fallen down yet…listen here ya’ll…let me clear my throat and let the word vomit flow…wait I need to adjust my crown so they can see my devil horns so they know shit is about to get real, because they know I won’t hold back through the word vomit and laughter towards my fucking self…(this is where I am literally hitting myself in the forehead with an open hand)…word vomit…it’s my enemy when I get started, but its also my saving grace for everyone that understands me. “listen Linda, (picture the head bob with sass and me pointing my finger, yes even if am on the phone) I know what I need to do. I know I need to let my mother fucking walls down, but you all know why I have issues with doing so…so my walls are there and they are slowly coming down Heather style, but I have all this shit that I am battling within myself and you peeps just have to deal with it, because they will break and crash down like a tumbling mother fucking backstabbing tsunami bitch when I least expect it and I know that when that happens it’s because it was supposed to happen right then and there…sooo yeah..” Through all of this I am laughing, which is a good thing, because I laugh at myself a lot. If I didn’t laugh at myself the way I do, I would probably be a giant fucking mess of a human.

So, at this point I am full of fucking so much sass it’s not even on the scale of 1-10. Well, on most days my sass probably isn’t, but especially during my word vomit, which let’s get real, happens most days. But on a good note we are all laughing at the word vomit and having a conversation that is probably going in 15 different directions. Seriously, those that can handle me, I give them major props…and I appreciate them more than they know.

Okay okay, so back to my damn walls. Yes, I know those fuckers need to come down, that my moat needs to either be filled up, or used as a lazy river and not a trap that requires a life vest. My walls are not as tall as they once were, the thorns are not as sharp, and the vicious creatures are gone from my waters. I have gotten much better and it’s because I am challenged in ways that I have never been challenged before. I need time to get use to this new way of life. I have always been able to do everything on my own (except decide where to eat…and NOW I HAVE TOO, which I actually kind of like…huge, giant smiles) and I will never apologize for being a badass independent chick, but I need to learn how to not be so independent, if that makes sense.

Learning how to still be a badass mother fucking rockstar and not as independent is a new challenge. One that I am enjoying, but it is a process. So, without allowing myself to lose myself in the process of my walls coming down, the thorns turning into beautiful flowers, and my moat becoming an awesome lazy river I am learning how to breathe again while loving life.

Sunshine and mother fucking sassy sparkles


hangry bitch

Do they make a gluten-free Snickers? Because I have been one hangry bitch lately.

My inner bitch has been at an all-time high. I try to hold it in, hide it, but it’s difficult. I know everyone can see it, feel it radiate off of me. Afterall I wear my emotions on the outside. I’m like a fucking glow stick…glowing bitch coming through…

Sometimes life gets overwhelming. We can’t always process everything into neat little boxes and stack them in organized rows…well I can’t. I am not that kind of person. I am like the White Rabbit in a four-lane highway trying not to get run over attempting to head down the rabbit hole. I freeze when the headlights shine deep into my soul and BOOM I get hit, run over, guts everywhere to the point I am this fucking major bitch nobody wants to be around. The sunshine and sparkles leave my body and the devil horns holding my halo double in size. I only seem to be nice to certain people and others better duck for cover. Sweet nice Heather has left the building.

I like to analyze what in the actual fuck caused me to act in such a horrible way. This is when I put the boxes in a some what organized ordered…still not organized, still a mess, because let’s face the truth, I run off chaos, spinning in 15 different directions at once. I’m like a first timer at Disneyland. Pretty sure I developed ADHD once I became a 911 dispatcher. Even if you read my blog, some of the entries are all over the place. Ever have a conversation with me? expect to have several in one. Lmao..it’s just who I am. I only know how to relax when I am at the beach with a drink in my hand, maybe, just kidding, I relax around the right people.

Things do not always go the way we want them too. We can hope, pray, build ourselves up to the point that when they don’t go our way, we get so upset we take it out on those closest to us. We make ourselves so sick, stressed to the point we can’t sleep or eat, and it feels like Darth Vader has a grip around our necks. We breakout, our bodies fight against us telling us to knock it off, and yet we still are our own worst enemies.

Life isn’t a Disney fairytale. I can’t sit there feeding the animals, singing to them on how wonderful life is. I love being a mom, but at times my heart breaks. I built myself up, knowing the outcome wasn’t going to be in my favor, but I was still hopeful like a princess locked in her tower. Then as I was asking the question, I was telling myself “stop you already know the answer” and as she sat there not wanting to look me in the eye, she gave me her answer. I looked away so she couldn’t see the tears fill my eyes. That was just the start…my sadness grew into anger as every little thing around me started to bother me. “you need to do this before you get hurt, do that, why are you doing this…” seriously I didn’t know that everyone else was in charge of my life.

I sat frozen in the headlights. Just sitting there. Hearing everything that was going on around me, but not wanting to participate, because I knew the words wouldn’t come out right. I knew I would sound like a hate filled soulless empty monster if I opened my mouth. I had to remain chill so the vomit wouldn’t spew from my lips. Everyone knew I had something to say. Oh well. I didn’t sleep. The stress, the lack of words, the anger kept me tossing and turning. The feeling of not belonging anywhere, lost, hurt, the anger, it was all too much for me to handle. I felt broken. I was too angry to cry that night.

 Turning my alarm off before it annoyed me was becoming a new habit. I was in such a stellar mood…as if…I was worse than normal. I would have made the perfect Grumpy. The day dragged to make it even worse; I am sure it was punishing me for my behavior for the week. Laughing at me for being such a bitch. Even when I left, I wasn’t okay. I was angry.

I just wanted to cry to release all the emotion building inside me. I got home and snapped at my teenage daughter like she was in the fast lane driving at a snail’s pace. I decided I needed to burn in hell. In the scolding hot shower, the tears rolled down my cheeks. Fucking finally! Seriously, sometimes a good cry helps!

Things usually don’t bother me like this. I am the type to let things roll off me, knowing I can’t control the universe, knowing karma will catch those that deserve it, and I always find the light in the darkest moments. I am the one that shines and brings the sparkles to people’s day, but here I was, dark, gloomy like Eeyore. Lost.

Later words were shared, hugs given and I knew everything was going to be okay. I finally slept, like Sleeping Beauty waiting for Prince Phillip’s kiss. I woke up not to my alarm, but not from my stress either, I woke up next to someone who cares deeply, who woke me in a caring gentle way.

Finally, I felt more like myself than I have in days. I might have been like the White Rabbit in traffic for a few days at work and around certain people, but I think when the boxes pile up, the stack gets too high, we get overwhelmed with the chaos of the environment, and we can’t handle it all, because we are afraid of what will happen when we clean up the mess or face our feelings on situations occurring in our personal lives. Instead of being a rabbit in the headlights, spinning uncontrollably, or choking on life it is important to remind ourselves we need to breathe, we have to look at the positives and remember we are cared about. We need to rely and go to those who care and love us when we need it most, before we hop on Mr. Toads Wild Ride.

PS…I need some Disneyland….



When 2020 started I thought it was going to be the longest year ever. January was just tip toeing along like “haha lets drag this out fuckers”. I’m sure it was, because everyone thought 2019 was a crap year. Which I have no clue why. 2019 was a great year for me…but anyways…here we were creeping along and then BOOM! February finally decided to make an appearance. Alright, yes 2020 is finally starting…juuuust kidding….lets go crazy buying all the toilet paper for a respiratory virus…major eye, but I did buy some, just in case I ran out since all these people were freak out shopping like the world was coming to an end. I’ve watched enough Walking Dead, I should be prepared enough, right? Bahahaha…

Everything shut down. Nothing felt normal anymore. I wasn’t even sure what normal was. All of a sudden, I wasn’t just a mom and an essential employee. Overnight I became mom-essential employee-teacher-race car driver-toilet paper hunter. Say goodbye to common core mother fuckers. The speed limit didn’t seem to matter anymore to anyone, so to not get run off the road you learned to drive faster (unless you already did..hehe), and well I don’t think I need to explain why I had to hunt for toilet paper…but if someone posted a store had it and I was still in my pjs, watch out world…

Life slowed down. It changed. There were parts I hated. But I had to remind myself of my sunshine and sparkles. Through the darkness that linger above us I looked for the light. My kids and I made a point to get outdoors more. We found new places to hike and fish. I even got my fishing license…I don’t even like to fish. We went on adventures, grew closer, laughed, made memories, exercised, and just lived a life we wouldn’t normally live if life hadn’t slowed down.

I love pictures. I have so many from this year. Pictures that are serious, goofy, full of life, love, and memories. Reflecting back on this year I see so many different things that so many families, individuals, and friends have gone through and are still going through. Lessons have been learned. I have learned more about myself, children, family, and friends this year than I ever have in past years. There have been all kinds of emotion expressed throughout 2020. I am lucky to have captured the memories I have this year.

As 2020 comes to an end I reflect back on people I have walked away from, people I have grown closer too, people that have entered my life, and people that have become strangers. Some could say 2020 has been a shitty year. Sure, we shut down and life has changed. I certainly will admit I hate the shut down and the masks. But when I think of the good that has come out of this year I smile. Why? Because right now as I write this, I can say I am happy with how my life is. Is there some darkness? Sure. But I have decided to look at the light, the light that makes me feel whole, warm, bright, and smile.

I have prepared for what ever crazy 2021 brings us. I have made sure I have enough paper goods that I can build a padded room with all of it, if I need too…bahaha…But remember I have watched The Walking Dead…I am prepared…wink wink…


I see a pattern

You know what is ridiculous? People who are too afraid of their own feelings that they either ghost people, ignore a direct question, make up some sorry ass excuse, lie, or do not care who they hurt. Why is it difficult for an adult to be upfront, honest, or open with another adult? Seriously?? When did adults start acting childish? I know we all have our moments, but jeez, at some point you begin to wonder what in the actual fuck? Especially when it seems to be a pattern from several different directions.

We all know the truth hurts, but so does a lie. And newsflash…A LIE HURTS MORE WHEN THE TRUTH COMES OUT. Just saying…so how about growing a pair or pulling up the big girl panties, what ever you fancy and tell the fucking truth?

There is no need to point fingers on who did what or said what. Just own up to what you did and have the supposed “difficult” conversation. Again, people may hate what the truth is, but it is so much better than the lie that eventually unveils the truth. Tears might be shed, but oh fucking well. Guaranteed they will probably be shed with the lie or truth so big whoopy fucking do.

We get a cut, we put a Band-Aid on it, and guess what? It heals!! Oh my goodness!!! So do feelings!!! What a concept. Who would have thought!?! We pull up our big girl panties or grow a pair, maybe eat our favorite comfort food, and get over it.

To ghost someone, lie to them, make an excuse shows a person you never respected them in the first place, are afraid to face whatever challenges that might lie ahead, or that you may not be able to be honest with them at all. Or maybe it shows the lie’s told have been so tangled that one cannot remember what has already been used and what hasn’t. Chicken shit lies or ignoring someone shows true colors and makes a person a fucking dick with karma biting at the heels.

The truth is better than a lie. Everyone gets over things eventually. How do you feel when you are lied to?

Exactly my point…so why do it to someone else…fuckers.


This is me

Seriously, I have no idea why I do not wrap myself in bubble wrap and call it good. I am a walking accident. I am not even sure if that is the right word anymore.

Hello! I am Heather! Welcome to my blog. This blog is about my everyday life. I find it interesting, funny and well sometimes just like WTF did that really just happen? This shit cannot be made up!! Yes, I will use profanity, texting acronyms, maybe even an emoji here and there; so, I am warning you now if you get offended easily stop reading. I do not have much of a filter once I get going. I will do my best to advise on entries that need warning…no promises guaranteed.

As a mom of three I am always on the go. My life is busy. My son is 14, a freshman in high school, and is already talking about what college he wants to go to and when he is going to apply. Yay!!! I did something right! Lol. When I was a freshman I was counting down the days until I turned 18 and could move out! My son is very motivated and ambitious. I am extremely proud of him and the maturity he has shown lately. My 12-year-old daughter is an animal lover and dreams about becoming a veterinarian. If she could bring home every stray animal, she would. I love her caring character. My 8-year-old diva daughter is one animated character for sure. She is full of sass, keeps me on my toes and is super girly. She is currently attempting to grow her hair out like Rapunzel…oh my. Even though she is full of attitude she can make anyone smile.

I am a 911 dispatcher. Most of the time at work I am a black cloud. I like to think my cloud rains glitter just to keep it slightly happy…positive thoughts equal positivity…maybe? I love my job. I can honestly say that even on the worst darkest evilest day at work I still walk out of the building wanting to go back the next day. Even when I am sicker than sick I still would rather be at work than curled up on my couch or in bed. Maybe I am sick in the head? Eh oh well.

As if I do not already have enough on my plate. I felt I needed to add more to it, because why not. I decided to go back to school full time. Yay! Go me! I have dreams, goals, places and plans I want to see and fulfill. I want to show my children that you can reach your goals no matter your age. Age is just a number after all; when it comes to certain things.

My life is busy and crazy, but it is mine. I am living it the way I want to, not how everyone else wants me too. I changed way too many times for way too many people. Welcome to the crazy…remember you have been warned. 😊