If I ruled the world there would be some major changes. Seriously. I’ve been on this earth for over 30 years and have noticed some things that need tweaking. If I had my way, I would correct these issues post haste.

#1. I would replace every male running anything more complex than a dog track with a woman. We are natural problem solvers and superior thinkers biologically. It is always that pesky XY chromosome combination which ruins a perfectly good zygote.

#2. All people who want it will be provided with a college education. Those who have no interest in college would go to a trade school. Those who don’t want to do either will be sent to alternative employment facilities.

#3. Health care would be affordable. Medications would be accessable by everyone. I fully believe the Canadians and Europeans are onto something. Healthy people are happier people.

#4. Speaking of happier people.. Psycotropic drugs would be pumped into the municipal water system. Most people are a pill away from being tolerable. They just don’t know it.

#5. I would have adult water fountains that dispensed liquor. Some days you just need that handy cocktail pick up to get through the rest of the day, unfortunately booze aren’t readably available everywhere. So. Yeah. Boozy water fountains. It would make for more enjoyable working conditions.

#6. At work, you would be able to vote the office asshole right out of a job. If there is someone who the majority of people do not get along with, then the just have to go. They ruin the vibe and flow of the office. Yep. If you are an insufferable ass, you get voted out of the office.Doesn't matter if they are an employee, boss, supervisor, or owner.. Act a fool get the boot.

#7. Pre marital counseling would be mandatory before you can get legally married. Sort of like taking drivers Ed. You have to take a certain number of classes to get a marriage license. By the same token, marital counseling would be readily available and free. If it still doesn’t work out, you can get divorced like Muslims by saying “I divorce thee” three times and it is legally over. No use in tying up the court system if we do not need to.

#8. People would have access to better food. Fast food, which is the worst for you, is extremely affordable. It is fast, cheap, and deadly. I would make whole foods more easily available and cheaper so that everyone can partake in good nutrition.

#9. Everyone will be able to slap 1 person per week. Doesn’t matter who it is. Once a week people can slap whomever they want without repercussions.

#10. Every book in the Twilight series and movie would be publically burned in a pyre like the Salem Witches. They just have to go, as they are a scourge on society.

#11. People would be free to explore their sexuality (as long as it doesn’t include children or animals) without the judgmental eye of society. People really need to be less uptight about sex.  Men who fail to give women orgasms will be forced to take a sex Ed class until they learn their stuff. Women who give bad head will also take a blowing class taught by a homosexual.  Pornography would not be stigmatized or illegal (unless once again said children or animals are included) I would legalize prostitution as they provide a necessary service. It is my firm opinion if we take sex workers out of the shadows we would cut down on violence against women as well as the high murder rates of sex workers. Let them make an honest’s day pay on their backs if they so choose. It of course would be regulated, taxed, and the workers would be tested and taught to follow safe sex practices.

#12. I would stop Hollywood from making movies that subjugate women. We have it hard enough without all sort of negative stereotypes and subliminal messages realigning supreme in the media. Let women enjoy being women. Stop making us feel bad about our natural selves because we do not look like airbrushed photo shopped models or superstars who have glamazon teams who put them together.  Women have wrinkles, pooches, bat wing arms, chunky thighs, cellulite, thick ankles, OR they can be flat chested, clavicle bearing, pinched faced, thin lipped, large nose having, varicose veined.. It doesn’t matter.. All types of women are lovely so stop going to plastic surgeons trying to achieve dominant culture’s ideals of beauty because they are bullshit. Love yourself with the same patience and adoration as your mother loves you.  Stop persuading the culture of women being dominated by men and negative cultural morays. I would change little girl’s internal dialogues where they would worry less bout their looks or weight and worry more about school and achievement. Also more money would be spent on girl’s sports. It shouldn’t take a back seat to boy’s sports, as we all know there is no bigger asshole than a former high school/ college athlete. They ride that train right into their graves bragging about their FORMER glory. Give it a rest! Men are keeping us busy with superficial things so that we won’t have the energy to notice their shortcomings or how jackassy they are.

#15. Everyone will have good table manners and learn basic etiquette. There is nothing worse than dining with someone who cannot use his or her knife and fork properly. Chewing with their mouth open or a host of other disgusting habits. Good manners are a way of showing respect for your fellow human being. Please and thank you go a long way. Holding doors open for people, the random smile. These small tweaks make pleasant days rather than ones where thunderclouds follow you around.

#16. I would tackle poverty. No child should go without a high quality education or a meal. There should not be generations of families living under the poverty line. I would end the culture of poverty.

#17. When people are having a bad day the happiness squad would show up with martinis, cupcakes, and new shoes. For men they would show up with a Fluffier.

#18. More emphasis would be placed on the arts and theater. There is so much beauty in the world and yet people aren’t exposed to it. To be well rounded people need to be exposed to art, culture, and theater..

Yep.. These are the things I personally find important. World peace would be achieved buy replacing men with women so I would have plenty of time beautifying the world with my ideas for mental and physical wellness, happiness, and harmony. So says the Oracle.

FIN

For the majority of my life I have had a toned and fit body. As a kid my Mom kept me in tap, jazz, ballet, modern dance, and gymnastic classes.  The older I got the more athletic activities I engaged in. Soon I was riding horses, playing volleyball, and swimming like a mermaid. My muscles developed long and lean as if I came out of the womb Pilates ready.  With great gifts comes great responsibility. Upon my head hangs the weight of my entire family. I was the only slender girl in a sea of chubby. I was known as the thin one.  I am the family's  great last thin hope.

All though high school and into college I got a lot of attention due to my figure.  While I was bartending I used it to my extreme advantage. Big boobs and a lithe figure made serious dough and I worked it for all it was worth.  I used to call my boobs plan A and plan B the rent makers.  I might have picked up weight since high school but it landed in all the right places. When I was 18 I was a size 0 but by around 25 I managed to creep to a 6. Still small. Still adorably sexy. A lot of my self-esteem was built on my physical appearance.

Unfortunately, being known for your body has negative effects on your psyche.  I am no longer a size 6. I am no longer adorably sexy in my opinion.  The size I am now can be multiplied by 6 to get the number. How did this happen? Easy. Depression.. Eating the wrong foods.. Being married.. Priorities changed in life.. So many things.. So very many things. They all have taken a toll on the body that used to serve me so very well.

And here I am.. Dealing with the fall out of basically letting myself go. Not only did I let myself down, but also my family, as I have always been the thin one. My place and identity in my family dynamic has changed. I don’t know where I fit in anymore. I’m not the smartest (Nick) or the prettiest (hands down Denita) or the gay one (Darryl).   Every time I run into someone who knew the former me.. I cringe. Last night I talked to an ex-boyfriend on skype. He was shocked by how much I had changed and then deemed me “thick”. He told me I had one of the best bodies in high school.  Inside I died a thousand deaths. The love of my life that I spent the greater part of my 20’s with was also taken aback when he saw me recently. To his credit he played it off quite well. Knowing who I used to be and now living in this falsehood now feels like the reverse of the Matrix. I was living in reality now I am in some horrible dream. A dream in which I orchestrated myself.

I have one foot on the side of learning to love my new body and another living off of my former glory. My best friend told me that she was always amazed how men and women would be so attracted to me when there she was standing next to me, smaller and more fit. This perplexes me. I am still perplexed. Even though I am considerably larger, it seems my body still has some sort of undeniable tractor beam attached to it. As a “thick” chick I am getting as much if not MORE attention than ever. People appreciate my curves, and giggles way more than I do. Maybe I need to start looking at myself through their eyes instead of the eyes of my best friend’s and mine. 

FIN

It is no secret that a mental health facility is.. well.. Creepy. I think it is less menacing during the daytime but at night it is rather.. Eerie to say the least. When I decided to work the overnight shift, I did not consider the consequences.  I had no idea why it didn’t dawn on me this place was going to be creapalicious as soon as the lights are dimmed and when you peer out the windows nothing but the darkest of night is your view. Needless to say, there are parts of the buildings I refuse to go to unaccompanied, and even then I try to avoid them.

I am a huge believer in energy. You can feel it..  Good energy, bad energy, and neutral energy. The Nut Hut is full of bad energy. Like. Gothica/Shutter Island type of energy. There are times when you feel pure anger and frustration overtake you out of nowhere. Seriously. You could be as calm as a Buddhist Monk one minute then WHAMO you want to kill someone.  I’ve never been exposed to a constant barrage of negative energy before. It is almost like I visit the Amityville Horror House nightly; sit around for 9 hours then go home. 

People are ALWAYS getting sick here. When you come on unit, all of a sudden phantom aches and pains will plague you. Stomach aches, joint aches, headache.. Just any sort of ache or pain will start up almost immediately. It is as if your body is having a biological response to the negativity, which seems to be shellacked into the walls here. People are always catching colds, food poisoning, or having allergic reactions. It is so very odd.

The building itself seems to be alive. Perhaps like in a Rose Red type of way. The walls moan and growl nightly. Many times I hear all sorts of strange noises, which I struggle to justify. I KNOW what I hear but I do NOT want to KNOW what I heard. Doors creek. Doors slam. Doorknobs rattle. Once I heard the washer turn itself on and start to fill with water. When you put your key into the many locks  there is always a spark when the key in inserted. ALWAYS. It doesn’t matter if there is static energy in the air or not. The spark always greets me whenever I use ANY of my keys.  Charts and books have fallen off of shelves as if disturbed by invisible hands. I HATE when this happens. The items must be picked up and put in their proper place, but I am afraid whatever wanted it on the floor is going to retaliate.

When you are here, you always have a feeling like you are being watched. The feeling someone is behind you all of the time. I try to sit strategically with my back against a wall but even then., I feel like I am an animal at a reverse zoo. The entertainment for something unnatural. I have become the world’s fastest peeer.. I am in and out of the restroom in 60 seconds flat and that DOES include washing my hands. Being a germaphobe I believe my hands aren’t clean enough so  I also use hand sanitizer  the moment I get within eyesight of a coworker.

I might sound paranoid or even mildly crazy to some but I know there are several presences here, which wish the clients and staff ill will. You can just feel it. I have even been fortunate enough to SEE a ghost here. Twice! Same ghost. I once saw him in the recreation room. So in efforts to avoid the ghost, I gave him the rec room and started taking breaks in other parts of the building. Well. He is not going to be outsmarted. Whatever part of the building I am currently in, if I am alone, he finds me. For some reason he hovers over me and looks at me with curiosity on his face. Or perhaps that is how I am interpertating it. Either way. I do not want to business with a spirit. I wish he would leave me alone or go find another person to make contact with. 

There are parts of the building which I really believe have serious concentrations of bad energy. Like. The quiet room. It is a room with padded walls and a steel door we place kids into when they are a danger to themselves or us. Let me tell you.. That room is creepy. I almost peed on myself last week when a staff member played a practical joke on me involving the quiet room. The feeling you get when you enter the room is rage, despair, anger, hopelessness, disgust, confusion, and a myriad of other unhappy feelings. There is no joy in that room at all.

During the night, there are certain times when you feel the energy of this place peak. Around midnight is one and three AM is another. I dread these times of night. I do not need a clock to know when 12 or 3 rolls around. Around 12 midnight I can feel the tension rising. It will ebb for a while then around 3 it will rise again.  It is an all round hair-raising experience to work or live at the nut hut. You never get used to it.

The people who have worked at the nut hut all have crazy stories. So bizarre you wonder if they are senseless themselves until something happens to you, and it will, it is only a matter of time. I never doubt my senses, working the night shift gives me sensory overload. Unlike Ghostbusters, I am afraid of a ghost.

FIN

I am not a big fan of love stories, love songs, or anything generally sappy.. All things in that particular realm makes me want to retch.  I just do do love.  Can’t business with it. However, this wasn’t always the case. There was a time when I was in love with love. 

 cheesy!

Flash back to my late teens and early 20’s. I was a loveaholic. I read all sorts of cheesy chinchy romantic novels. Like.. Terrible ones. Harlequin romance novels to be exact. I would voraciously consume them as if they were sustenance for my very life. Any and all romantic comedies I would drag my poor boyfriend Drexel to. I so feel bad for him because he was forced to watch Legends of the Fall more times than any man should. I just loved love. I lived and breathed love. Valentine’s day was my favorite holiday. The entire apartment would be decked out in pink and red. It was like some sort of Vegas Drag Queen explosion of sparkles, sequins, crystals and over the topness all dedicated to.. LOVE and I was in love with it. 

Somewhere, along my pathway I got jaded.  I learned that men were not like those heroes in the novels. They do not have all the answers and don’t rely on them to save the day. I could save my own damn day more efficiently than a man ever could with much less bitching.  There was no way to keep up the romance which movies and fairy tales driven by dominant culture and pushed by consumerism. Every day wasn’t Valentine’s day, a wedding day, Christmas, or my birthday. There are no happy endings, which wrap up a tragic event which will enviably happen. Tragedies could carry on strong for months years even with no end in sight, unlike in movies and books where they are all neatly packaged up with a positive conclusion after a period of mild suffering. Real life is messy. Real life doesn't always reward the heroine. Yep By my mid twenties I was completely jaded. That is when it all came to a screeching halt for me. Love didn’t live here anymore.

I stopped watching romantic comedies. They were replaced with morose foreign films, which I deemed more realistic as they usually lacked happy endings. I started listening to other genres of music. If a love song came on the radio, I would quickly change the station mumbling this is bullshit underneath my breath.  The grunge movement was going strong in one ear and misogynistic rap in the other. Those sappy novels and books of poetry were dropped off at the thrift store and novels by Anne Rice dominated my bookshelves.  I would sourly and bitterly have all sorts of biting comments about love and people in love. Calling then Sally Candypants and negating their feelings as a fleeting stage.  My disbelief in love is epic and unwavering. Yeah. I gave up on love. I learned that love was an abstract. An ideal. An intangible. An unobtainable fantasy. 

Now.. On the heels of a totally disastrous marriage, I am craving love and romance again. Like.. Seeking it out. Trying to surround myself with beauty. Surrounding myself with love. All things positive of love and light I am gravitating towards. Perhaps I have been in a dark place too long and it was only a matter of time till I return to my natural stasis of being cuddled, kissed, hugged, and loved. 

Today I move forward towards love. The feeling of cotton candy on your tongue and butterflies swirling round your head. Twirling till you get dizzy and falling down on the most plush of fresh cut grass. The sweet tang of lemonade and the rush of being on a roller coaster. The wonderment of children listening to a good book and the freedom of bubbles blowing in the wind. To feel light as pink balloons in the breeze. The smell of white flowers and dances of ballerinas. The sound of rain on the roof and fuzzy warm slippers on my feet. Hot chocolate in my tummy and lips swollen from passionate kisses. The feel of gossamer kisses on my skin and a melody in my heart. Poetry imprinted in my soul, which burns like molten lava, yet never hurts.   These are the feelings I seek. To me that is what I recall love feels like. I am ready to feel it again.  I have lived through the tragedy so now I want my happy ending wrap up. Complete with a pink sparkly bow.

FIN

Secretly I never gave up on having my own personal Love Jones experience. 

I am the keeper of secrets. Not only my personal secrets but also the secrets of others. I am so skilled at keeping secrets many people entrust me with their deepest darkest secrets and I keep them to myself. I keep secrets so very well people are completely unaware of all the knowledge I have garnered over the years. A lot of secrets have been collected, stored, and held for safe keeping.

Last night on twitter I was having a private conversation with another person and learned  we share the same type of secret. I have only told a few people the largest secret of my life and only 1 person (now 2 knows the full story). See. I am such a good secret keeper because I was trained to keep secrets at an early age. The secret I hold could destroy my family. So. I kept the burden of this secret for years. It is my cross to bear alone. However, talking to someone else about it was freeing. I felt so much better saying it aloud. So. I am going to say my secret out loud again. Give it life. Make it real again and not let it hide in abstracts and the recesses of my mind. It has been too long and it does not need to fester inside me anymore. My secret is. A family member molested me at a very early age and it continued for years.  Not a scary old uncle, or a distant cousin, or a wicked step father either. This family member is in my generation of children in the family.

From as far back as I can remember, the abuse was going on. I didn’t consider it abuse because I was so young I had no idea what abuse was. I knew it hurt. I knew I didn’t particularly like it, but I knew it made him happy and since I idealized him, I went along with it. My abuser was my hero and I sensed if I told my parents about what was going on, he would get into trouble.  I didn’t want that. So I kept quiet. Plus he made it seem like our special time together. His attention was something I craved.  For years the knowledge of what happened to me went dormant. Then one day it came flooding back like some sort of memory tsunami. All my senses were overwhelmed with the recollections. They overtook me. I can recall the places, times, what happened, scents, feelings.. I can really clearly remember what it felt like to have my young underdeveloped body violated by parts of another, which did not fit. My eyes do not have to be closed to taste what was forced onto my taste buds and forever imprinted into my psyche. I remember everything. I especially remember the instructions of not to tell a soul. So I didn’t.

Where does that leave the adult me? Keeping this secret. I can’t tell my family because it would destroy us. So I have to be the strong one and suffer alone without the support of the people who love me the most. I used to find strength in keeping this secret. Like I was saving the family from great heartache, shame, and pain. Perhaps I am. Perhaps I’m not. I am not worried this person is out molesting other children as they are safely incarcerated where they belong on unrelated crimes. So for that I am thankful. I would hate for another child to keep such a burdenous secret. 

Do I see this person as a monster? No. Do I fall into the cliche of psychologically challenged tragic adults who have been molested as a child? Time will tell. I do know that by sacrificing myself, I saved my family. To me, that is worth a thousand nights of any torture. If I had to do it all over again, I can’t say I would change a single thing I did. The thought of my parent’s devastation rocks me to my very core, but being raped doesn’t.  It is no accident I got into psychology. It is not a coincidence  I work with sex offenders and victims of sexual abuse. They just have no idea I have first hand knowledge of their situations. Maybe this all happened for a reason. I now have the ability to heal many people as atonement for my personal pain. I can’t tell, but I can teach others to. So. For that I am grateful. I will continue to sacrifice myself, for the good of others.

FIN

It is rather hilarious to me that I encourage my clients to be authentic about their feelings. To tell people how they truly feel rather than conceal their feelings. Not to bottle them up, press them down, ignore them, or  talk them out of existence. Great advice right? Well.. I don’t ever take it.

I am such a control freak that I believe my feelings and emotions are my own. Therefore they are to be controlled by me. With that said, if someone upsets me, it is my duty (read burden) to deal with it silently as my feelings are my own. So when I am having an issue with someone, they will never ever know. I always handle it privately, within myself, and alone. This makes NO SENSE. Believe me I know it doesn’t.  Unfortunately, that is just how I am.

Right now, I have anger building towards one of my closest friends. A lot of it has to do with this person knows me very well and should know what pisses me off and just NOT DO IT.  Unfortunately, not the case. I have endured a year of slights and feeling inconsequential, disposable, and unimportant at this person’s hands, suffering silently rather than putting a stop to it. I can only blame myself. The problem is, now I am so angry, I am ready to end the friendship. My anger and hostility has become toxic to me. Just the mention of their name makes me upset. I just can’t deal anymore. This is classic throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Putting a relationship that has lasted many many years on the back burner without having a single conversation about the issues I have or my feelings. 

 Seriously. I have a lot in common with the Mad Hatter we are both crazy as hell.

 I am so flawed, but at least I know where my flaws are. Perhaps one day I will work on this particular issue, but that would entail talking about my feelings. Talking about my feelings is just something I just cannot do.

FIN

I tend to borrow heavily from music to get me through the days. It is no secret I am ready to move away from Texas. Things are not happening as quickly as I would like. So. I borrowed heavily from Seasons of Love to create a theme song for myself. I am always using theme songs to motivate. So here is my current theme song.  I took the liberty to change a few of the words.

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand

Six Hundred Minutes

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand

Moments so dear

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand

Six Hundred Minutes

I will live in Brooklyn.. Brooklyn in a Year.

My Daylights- My Sunsets

My Midnights- My Cups of Coffee

In Persistence- In Diligence

In Tenacity- In Stride

In- Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand

Six Hundred Minutes

How Do you Measure

The Move of My Life?

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand

Six Hundred Minutes

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand

Journey To Plan

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand

Six Hundred Minutes

How Do You Measure The Life

Of a Woman With a Plan?

In Truth That She Learned

Or In Times That She Cried

In Bridges That She Burned

Or The Way She Survived