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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

Check please…

Several months ago, I decided to go to dinner with a guy I had never met. I knew it was probably a bad idea, but I went anyways. I made sure to let a friend know where I was and checked in with her throughout the dinner. I seriously cannot make this shit up, but I am glad I can laugh at the shit that happens in my life.

My gut kept telling me to cancel. There were red flags in the messages leading up to this dinner, but I still said fuck it and went. I was parking my car near the restaurant when I got a message from him saying he was running late. Fine, whatever. I didn’t really want to be there anyways.

I wasn’t even nervous. I just wanted to get this over with. We walked around for a few minutes talking. More red flags. Fuck my life. Why me? Maybe if I tripped and fell flat on my face, I could head home…my luck I’d break something and end up in the ER.

Can we just go eat already…

I normally do not like to sit facing the tv screens, because I think it is rude when someone pays attention to the tv and not the people they are with, but this night I made sure I took the seat facing the tv screens so that I could watch the baseball game throughout dinner. I didn’t even feel bad. At this point I just wanted my food, to eat, and leave.

He sat there across the table from me stuffing his face as he spoke. The food was rolling around in his mouth like a clogged toilet it just kept swirling in the same spot, as he mumbled something along the lines of what a great guy he was. Somebody please help me!!! I could not scream loud enough in my head to drown this guy out. Thankfully with the baseball game on in the background I could easily distract myself from his disgusting chewing. Oh shit?! What did he just ask…ugh. This was the longest dinner ever. “I’m this and I’m that, blah blah blah..” got it dude, you’re Mr. Wonderful every woman’s dream guy. Riiight…except the fact that he legit showed enough red flags in ten minutes flat to send any chick running…stupid ass. And my dumbass was still sitting there…omgoodness, save me!! I think the manager heard my cry for help, because he came and checked on me…

As we sat there, he continued to talk about himself and how great he was at this and at that as I watched the baseball game. I really should have just left, but I didn’t want to be rude. Sometimes I can be a little too nice…

Outside in the fresh air I could breathe. I didn’t have to watch him eat anymore. Thank goodness!!! I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle without losing my shit. But then he decides to tell me I would be lucky to have a man like him, because he is nice, helpful, etc., and not one of those assholes all women go for.

Breathe, just breathe. Stop. Think. Before. Word. Vomit.

Ummm, excuse me? Word vomit happened, really bad word vomit. First of all, nobody tells me who is right or wrong for me, I make my own damn decisions fucker. Second of all, you just spent I don’t even know how long talking about yourself and how great you are in bed…what in the actual fuck…newsflash, I have hands and toys that I can use that will get me off better than your dick ever would, and the hell if I would ever let you near me. And third, just because you say you are nice doesn’t mean jack shit to me, the nice guy is usually the biggest asshole to mankind, because he is trying to prove something to everyone or has something to hide. So, take your nice, helpful you need me attitude and shove it up your ass.

And maybe these ”assholes” are assholes to him, because he’s jealous? Most women I know want someone who treats them with respect, not someone who is going to look down on them, and this guy, well he made it obvious that he looks down on women.

I do not understand why some people think that because you are a single female means you are helpless or that you need someone “nice” in your life. Maybe we are single because we meet people like this douche. Or how about we are just single, because we choose to be?

I can take care of myself. I can please myself. I can buy myself flowers. I can pay my mortgage. I have an amazing job. I have a great family and wonderful friends. If I need help with something, I will ask one of them. The list goes on.

I do not need a red flag toilet swirling douche bag chewer in my life to “help” me, because he thinks women can’t do shit on their own. I got news for you dude I am fucking powerful and I can accomplish most anything I put my mind too. And I will not hesitate to knock you on your ass with my words. Especially once you tell me I need a man, because I am a female.

Guess what?? I did knock him on his ass. Knocked him flat on his ass.

batteries. a single girls bff

A couple of years ago I told a close friend of mine “if I ever tell you I want to be in a relationship again smack me.” I was not being serious or maybe at the time I was. I was full of all kinds of different emotions when we had this conversation. Who really wants to be single for the rest of their life, especially in their thirties? Apparently, me!! And by saying this, I feel like the world listened, because I feel cursed, jinxed, whatever you want to call it. And why? Oh, you know just to prove a fucking point…like haha eat your words Heather!!!

Here I am, almost 36, and single. My toys and I have become great friends, BFF’s. In fact, I should probably add batteries to my shopping list. I have always been very independent. I am completely okay with being single, but sometimes the thought crosses my mind of “shit what if I live until I am 90”. That’s a shit ton of time to be alone and not in a relationship. So yeah in reality it would be nice to have that person to be able to snuggle up with at the end of the day, lay next to in bed, enjoy “streaming and chill” evenings, and of course have more than just my “BFF”.

So here I sit, asking myself, “did I jinx myself”? Or maybe I am just so independent I scare grown men away? Or the dating scene has just changed so much I do not know how to play the game? But dating should not be a game…but on a lighter funnier note I think my “prince charming” is just fucking lost, trying to navigate his way to me, but like me; north, east, south, and west are confusing as all hell and he needs landmarks instead…just follow the trail of toys!!!

Someday my prince will….nah, I just need to replace my batteries sooner than later.

rod filled flesh rocket

I often use my voice memos app on my phone if I am driving and I get an idea for my blog. The other day was beautiful outside, so I am driving with my sunroof open and windows down when I am recording ideas for this entry. I am sitting at a red light when another vehicle pulls up next to me with their windows down as well. I swear this was the longest light ever, but I enjoyed how much the female driver blushed as she obviously was listening to me. Enjoy!!!

The other night I was sitting around with family drinking margaritas, making tacos, and somehow, we started talking about sex changes, ball slapping sex, and strap ons.

Let’s back up to the beginning. Has everyone seen the meme with Bruce Jenner about calling him a Tranpa? (omg this makes me a horrible person, but oh well I am already going to hell) Okay, so now supposedly he is dating a female. So, we were trying to think about what that would be called, remember we were drinking, lol, and somehow this led to using vagina flesh to have sex changes possible.

Alright, so now, here we are, talking about sex changes out of vagina flesh, wondering how and the hell this new define penis gets hard…supposedly in the 80’s, not sure if this still happens, but you would insert a rod…ummmm….could you imagine your partner inserting a rod into your penis to make you hard? What if they got mad at you and decided to insert this rod all the way??? Ouch!!! Mother fucker would be calling 911 as your vajayjay penis is gushing blood. Or what if you decided to ride your partner a little too fast and hard and the rod went through and got you on the inside of your vajayjay?? Seriously, all I could see was the bad in this rod flesh rocket deal. I can not imagine this would be comfortable at all, but then again who knows.

At this point it might be safer to nix the change and just wear a strap on?? Idk. The thoughts were running wild at this point and they were ridiculous. We were laughing so hard I am sure my Apple watch pick it up as an exercise. Lmao.

So, I am assuming with the rod flesh rocket and the strap on there would be no ball slapping sex. People need some ball slapping sex in their lives sometimes. Right? Lol…of course while having this conversation I so made the sound with my hands…

Curiosity gets the best of people sometimes, add alcohol, a stressful week, and just some good old humor to the mix and the conversations can take an interesting twist. We were not even playing Cards Against Humanity to get this ball rolling. Guess we are just fucked up. Eh oh well. Loving life.

shoulda been a race car driver

I like to think I should have been a race car driver. I like to put the petal to the metal and fly. Zoom…away I go. I was always told I was precious cargo.

When that adrenaline rush starts to pump through my body as I watch the odometer creep up, 80 mph, then 90, my heart beat starts to race with it, I can hear the thump thump thump in my ears, as the rush overwhelms every inch of me. The sunroof and windows are open, the music is rattling the car as the wind rips through my hair, 100 mph.

I look up to see flashing lights…FUCK.MY.LIFE. The rush is gone. Party is over. I am now reaching for my information, searching through my suitcase of a purse for my driver’s license. Tap. Tap. Tap. I roll my window half way down. “Ma’am, do you know what you did?” I am being asked this question like I am a child being punished. I smile slightly blushing, of course I know what I did. I was full blown adrenaline rush having myself a grand old time…. “yes”. I hand over my information. UGH! This is going to be one hell of a ticket…

This great build up and for nothing…story of my fucking life. Always happens…amazing build up, hitting the peak, and BOOM! Crash! Airbags deployed, bumper falls off, I go flying then I must analyze the scene, and of course there’s no fucking fluids. FML!

The officer comes back to my vehicle, taps on the window to announce his arrival, ticket in hand with all my information. I turn my face to look in his direction. My eyes are full of tears, some sliding down my face at this point, and giant snot bubbles lingering above my upper lip. He looks at me and says “fuck”, hands me everything as he runs back to his vehicle while saying “have a nice day”, yeah, you too…

I may not be a race car driver, I may not have fluids leaking from any of the right spots…damn I need a sex life…hahaha!!!

Sunshine and Sparkles!!