It’s Never Just a Job

my sophomore year of college I became a ref

See mom always tells me “water seeks its own level.” meaning we search for the people we think we deserve. When I joined intramurals I wasn’t looking for more than a steady paycheck and a way to straighten my life out but – you can imagine my surprise when [after sipping the fit and rec Kool-Aid] I bought into the “we’re a family” mentality.

truth is I never thought I’d be a ref

I grew up saying “I love sports, but I can’t JUST watch – I have to play.” And until college this was true – but really I just hadn’t met the right leaders – or the right family – to get me to buy in to what it meant to be a part of a team – even if that team specialized in playing off the field and on the sidelines.

A couple names come to mind when I think of people that shaped my life. John Concannon, Matt Gordon, Jon Conley, David Chance, Lia Nawn, Justin Flory, Phil Gilbride and Rebecca Scott. And what they all have in common is that they taught me how to be a great leader.

See the people above weren’t just Intramural refs, they were the people that – come hell and high water – you knew you could depend on them. Concannon in particular stands out because he wasn’t just on the field, but he was a resident advisor who literally watched me and my friends commute to hell and back every weekend – never judging openly, but letting us grow.

today we said goodbye

This morning 8.18.18 a member of the Merrimack college community was laid to rest. But in truth he was so much more than a member of the Merrimack community. His name was Craig Maxfield, he was 23, and words cannot describe what he meant to his friends and family.

To me Craig was quiet, kind, and a great person to work with. He was someone to look up to and he was a part of my best years on the Merrimack Intramural Staff.

See I learned a lot at Merrimack over the years. I took a lot of classes, made a handful of friends, and worked a number of jobs – but what I learned is that it is never about the job.

it’s about people – and by that I mean family

I don’t know what it was – scratch that, I know WHO it was. You see the people I named above, they are what made a job feel like home – they are what got me to appreciate working more than I ever had because suddenly someone as small as me – who USED TO BE QUIET suddenly had a huge voice and the power to make people listen. And I wasn’t the only one who experienced this metamorphosis.

Truth is I wasn’t always the best worker – truth is I fell off a little when the leaders I truly believed in left, but the fact still remains that no one I know – whole heartedly, and cheesily buys into family as much as that 2015-2017 staff did. Sure we were lost, and maybe it was just the Kool-Aid, but I wouldn’t trade that time for anything.

so today we said goodbye

To a brother, a friend, a Merrimack Family member, and with hearts heavy we have watched a chapter end too soon.

But what I can promise you now – is the same I bought into then. The people I met at Merrimack are family, the people I worked with for Intramurals were family – and yeah we were dysfunctional at times, yeah I was delusional some nights but I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

You see it’s never just a job. It’s a shot in the dark – that turns into a passion – that transforms into a home and suddenly you realize that that rut you thought you were in before, was really just the breadcrumbs you needed to guide yourself to something you could truly believe in.

and then suddenly you’re home.

 

No, I do not report the weather…

…and no, I won’t tell you how to boil an egg, either.

Don’t get me wrong, I love technology.  I grew up in the beginnings of the millennium that included cell phones, the internet, and laptop computers.

I grew up with my very respected elders telling me they used to ‘walk to school up and down the hill both ways in the snow’ and so therefore I am oh so spoiled with all that I have at my fingertips.

I could go to the computer and just Google a question I have, whereas they needed to go to the library and read a book (followed by “do you even know what a library is?”).

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Photo by Janko Ferlic on Pexels.com

And I will admit, I LOVE that we have the miracle of online shopping and free 2-day shipping.

Really, it’s a lazy girl’s dream: I can have ice cream, wine, a new dress, a boyfriend pillow, and a UFO detector I totally needed delivered to me without even having to leave my bed.

You know what else you can buy?

Robots.

Yes, you know which one I’m talking about.

The one that turned my name into a joke, a meme, and caused my introductions to people to become comical – to say the least.

The same one my mom got and showed it to me by saying “Hey look! We found your replacement!”

It’s come to the point where I tend to wait a few seconds after my family calls my name, just to make sure they are actually talking to me, not the robot — now they just call me “Human Alexa.”

I grew up being told I was spoiled because of my Razor flip phone.  The one I didn’t get until I was 13.  The one I would shut so fast if I accidentally hit the internet button because I was so scared my parents would see a charge for a million dollars on the phone bill if I let it load all the way.

These small as your palm robots can turn on lights and set house alarms; I’m not sure I even know what the light switches in my house even do anymore.

And now, here I am, I’m thinking how dependent kids are becoming on robots doing things for them.

Worried about the next generation.

I have started to circle.

I have become my grandparents, thinking to myself how spoiled with technology this generation is:

Will they know how to turn on lights by hand?

Will they truly need to know how to read an analog clock?

Will they ever write a shopping list by hand?

Do they even know what the radio is?

Probably not, because our new friend Alexa can do all of this for them.

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The best is when she mishears her name, so she starts talking to you out of nowhere.

Or, better, when it’s the middle of a stormy night and so you’re having power surges and they all start talking to you;

You know those horror movies with ghostly echoes, or hallucinations with a small phrase being repeated over and over again and you can’t escape?

Like that, but worse.

My point, I guess, is that no matter how much parents try to protect their kids from evil – from chemicals, vaccines, too much screen time, or the cutest pitbulls around, the newest of technology will always be there to spoil them with an easy way out.

It’s the ever-growing way of our society.  The thing we sometimes take for granted, and the thing we all need to learn and adapt our skills to in order to survive.

We can just hope that the next one isn’t given another human name, or doesn’t turn into the real-life version of the movie Smart House.

An Open Letter To the First Person To Fire Me

it started with the words – with all due respect

I know I am not a perfect human. In fact, most days I can be resentful, fiercely independent, and act in uncontainable ways that then haunt me long after they should. I understand that some people believe in forgiveness, but for many things I have done – big and small – I hold on to them as reminders of a person I never wanted to be. I believe in asking for forgiveness, but I prefer to ask for permission first – this is how I have always been at work.

Personally, I have never had an issue with respect. My bosses, my supervisors, I have always known the chain of command and how to follow it – but to that same end, respect is earned and it needs to be mutual for a business to work properly. That being said, disrespect is something I do not tolerate when I have earned the opposite. It took me too long to know my worth and know it shouldn’t be questioned or overlooked – so when it was, I acted in a way that was respectful, but demanded answers in a way that no one before me had dared to.

i do not regret being my own advocate

I value myself a thoughtful person, but back in the beginning of this year, after working myself ragged for an employer who did not know my worth, I played my  hand and lost.

Before February I had never been dismissed from a position. In my lifetime I have worked countless jobs, constantly doubted myself, thought of occasions where I didn’t deserved to be dismissed but was disappointed in myself and thought I should be – and through it all I kept working, kept striving to be better, kept improving and then – my streak ended.

If I am being completely honest, I kind of appreciate failure. I like the lessons it gives me, and the lasting feeling that I have to do better than before. If I am being completely honest – I love failing once, because it means that I will never let it happen again.

to the poet, educator, boss, and executioner that allowed me to realize what my skills are truly worth. thank you.

The reason I write this to you all today is because the other day my past came up in a conversation about someone’s present. You see she now holds a position I used to, and like me she was not trained and she now knows the weight all of us have bore.

It isn’t an easy job – but I picked my replacement wisely. It wasn’t an easy exit, I lost a lot of friends – But I did what I did because I knew I could do better, and I knew we were going no where fast if we continued the way we were going. Unlike a lot of people who may not understand this [understand what I did] I knew the risk of hitting send, and I nailed my coffin accordingly.

looking back

Despite popular opinion, I loved my job. I loved the torment of formatting, the pain of wordsmithing, and more than anything I loved designing – covers, websites, social media and more. I loved being in control of something with so much potential because no one around me knew about it.

I put hours, countless hours into designing, playing with techniques, making a product from nothing [while at other jobs], networking and [regrettably] sending emails from behind the wheel, restaurants, the dinner table, you name it.

and yet after all this I was asked to step down – not for being incapable, not for missing a deadline, not for hurting the image of the business, but because I asserted myself from the corner I was backed into. And none of it was legal – but it also wasn’t worth the fight or the fallout.

how did something so wrong allow me to feel so right??

Well, the day before I was asked to step down [sorry not asked, demanded] I sat in front of my employer who told me to sit down, be quiet and listen. Anybody who knows me knows how hard that blow hit. I was so excited about what I was doing, how could I not have so many ideas, so many plans? I talked fast but only because I was passionate, and to me that wasn’t wrong it was a benefit of someone who loved her job.

It didn’t matter.

And while most would be mad about that moment, for me it was a catalyst – it started the gears in my head. That day I was ready to conquer all of my plans. Then advice came – advice that didn’t read like advice and I cracked. I knew the trust was not there, the respect was not there, I knew I was meant to be a lap dog – but I am no lap dog.

Long story short I was fired days later [told to step down] and while at first I was utterly crushed. While I walked out of that room broken for more reason than one. I COULDNT BE MORE GRATEFUL FOR THAT DAY.

thank you

I think it benefits everyone to lose a job they love – to lose one thing they love – because it teaches value. That day I learned my own value, the value of my skills, and honestly, I would not be where I am today without that time I got fired.

So to the first person to fire me, I am sorry – because I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you enough for not only teaching me what I am worth – but for setting me free to do and continue to do what I have always known myself to be capable of.

-R

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It’s Y(our) time, now

Connecticut, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Vermont had their primaries yesterday.

General elections across the nation are on November 6th.

And voting is as important as breathing.

I’ve been learning a bunch about so called “adulting” since the tail end of college.

If anything stuck, it’s that the most important aspect of being a young adult is to put into action our training of being active members of society.

It’s one of the most mature, and critical things we can do for the world around us:

Vote.

Now, politics really have never been my ‘thing.’

The whole subject is confusing, complicated, and ever changing to say the least.

And I haven’t had enough education that actually taught me how things work; at least not past the general School House Rock structure.

I have been left to teach myself and learn about what is going on in my own government all on my own.

What I have learned, you ask?

My generation is CRUSHING the political game across the country.  We are suspected to be the most politically active generation over the course of our lifetimes the country has seen yet.

four people holding green check signs standing on the field photography
Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

For example:

On Sunday, the students of Parkland, Florida and other March for Our Lives members concluded their ‘tour’ around the country in Newtown, Connecticut; and I was fortunate enough to see it happen and speak with them first hand.

They visited over 20 states, with over 50 stops along the way – all within the span of about 2 months.

They have been actively registering people to vote, speaking to crowds that gather to hear their ideas, and informing the young voters on just how much they can impact their communities, and our country, with just their voices.

An amazing movement that started due to hundreds of tragedies across the nation.

crowd on the road
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It’s the ‘kids’ making moves to change policies.

It’s the high school and college students who just want to feel (and be) safe on their campuses that are encouraging people to get out and vote for what they believe in.

It’s the young adults that are pushing to have the voting age lowered to 16, because all of these policies going into place are affecting THEM.

It’s the millennial generation, just barely pushing through the beginnings of adulthood, that are so passionate about encouraging people to get out and vote.

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So, my first valuable life lesson of adulthood:

Go out of my way to learn all about my political candidates and what they believe in.

My second lesson is to go out and vote for them.

Third, is to always listen to those younger than you are.  They see the world in a different light.  They have different experiences and education.  Putting our heads together, maybe we can find a solution to our nation’s issues.  Maybe we can get new perspectives and implement programs and policies to keep everyone safe, happy, healthy, and educated.

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As I learn the ins and outs of adulthood, these students changing the nation will be my reminder that I can change the world.  A little bit at a time.   One voice at a time.  One day at a time.

When he Grows Up

long story short, the younger version of myself was a total asshole

Growing up, my biggest regret became the way I made my brother hate me – lucky for me he has since forgiven me and I could not be more grateful for the relationship we now have.

I know I am not the only one to say that being a sibling is hard. I mean – it isn’t, but it is. I was alone for years before my brother came along, apparently only child syndrome was like a really bad case of the flu for me – easy to catch but a pain in the butt to get rid of.

Resentment ran rampant in my life for a long time, but like I said – seeing my brother grow into the man he is today, watching him love me the way he used to… I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

So in honor of my baby bro going to college last week I wanted to commemorate the occasion by sharing what it feels like “when he grows up”.

i’m not a mom – i just act like one

Watching my brother grow up was one of life’s many bitter sweet miseries. Most of his young adulthood I was at college and he was at home. SO – every time I went home he had miraculously grown three inches taller and his voice dropped three octaves. This was hard to watch – and it still is because I feel like I am missing out on so much and on so many of the little moments that made him the man he is today.

Again – I’m not a mom… I just act like one.

The number of times I try to teach my brother something he already knows is astounding. AKA I soon learned that by some sheer act of nature my brother became [in many ways] way more brilliant than I see myself to be.

In this watching him grow up, listening to him speak about politics and policy and religion, and relationships was a gift. He went from ranting about relatives wanting to know only about school to having intelligent conversations that baffled me.

What I am quickly learning, being on the other side of watching someone grow up is how remarkable some people are and how genuinely kind they can be. For me this is hard, and I assume that anyone who is in a similar situation feels the same. And at the end of the day I guess it just makes me lucky to wonder “how could I be so lucky to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard”

Davis,

if you ever read this, I want you to know how unfathomably proud I am of the person you have become. I want you to know how hard it is to watch you grow up, and how scared I am that the big bad world has you under its wing now. Bud, I know you’ll come out the other end all right but be careful. I can’t tell you how hard it is to watch you grow up – but you’re doing an amazing job. And I couldn’t be happier to be a part of your journey – even if it feels like you might be a mile ahead for a while.

when he grows up

I would like to say that my brother hasn’t already grown up – but he has. But when he grows up more – when I stop believing that he is not the baby brother I have always known and mostly loved… I expect nothing less than greatness.

In short, watching him grow up has been hard, heck, watching anyone grow up is hard, and more than that – earning his respect [at one point] was difficult, but when he grows up – when he becomes the person I know he will be… when I can finally come to terms with him being 18 and in college and in the real world… well, that will be impossible – But it will also be priceless.

and I for one – can’t wait.

 

 

being the one they call

a leader doesn’t always stand in the front of the pack… but they do stand behind their friends.

As the friend who is most likely to do something wild or impulsive, few would think I am also the most reliable. And sometimes they might even be right.

I have never been a team captain, never been a front runner, and if I ran for any political office I would undoubtably lose – yet I am the first person most think to call when they are in trouble. Why? Because I answer, and more importantly, I show up.

As a sister, a daughter, and a friend my highest priority is “my people”. My chosen family includes teammates, old residents, coworkers, family and sometimes, that random person on the street who visibly looks like they are struggling.

showing up is easy, being present is hard

Growing up I constantly notice a deficit when it comes to showing up. People my age are criticized for their work ethic, their relationship status’, and their sociopolitical movements. But more than ever, my generation and the one to follow is showing up in big ways. Kids are leading movements, running for office, and acting in small ways with big results [simple acts of kindness]

It took some pretty rough -unplanned- life moments, like loss to make me realize that people don’t care enough about showing up in the long term vs. the short term – In this there proves to be a trend where people will ask how someone is doing, without actually wanting the answer. But with what I have seen lately, I am happy to see the revitalization of the long game.

Being the one they call isn’t always easy. In fact, on some occasions, it breaks your heart – but being the one they call is never about you. It’s about showing up – and I couldn’t be more proud to say that more and more young people are starting to answer the call than ever before.

Dear Racism

my mom always taught me that putting others down to push yourself up was wrong.

She always said that the ones that push hateful thoughts are the ones who lack love the most. In the past two days I have seen stories about  Laura Ingraham and her statement that:

In some parts of the country, it does seem like the America we know and love doesn’t exist anymore. Massive demographic changes have been foisted upon the American people. And they’re changes that none of us ever voted for and most of us don’t like.

have proved to me that Laura Ingraham not only lacks love in her life, but she is blind to the fact that while she can point one finger at a “guilty” party – she neglects the three fingers pointing right back at her.

Stories published by CNN, GQ and the Washington Post are creating a platform to share Ingraham’s message – but luckily they strongly disagree with the stance she has taken.

In these articles, prominent writing platforms share how Ingraham is trying to boost and rally President Trump’s base. In this, she strongly states supporting evidence [one or two examples] that Illegal Immigrants are “rapists” – effectively generalizing a whole population that hasn’t earned the level of disrespect they have been given by the Trump administration.

But what gets me the most – this generalized opinion and racist tirade neglects to realize that this country was founded by men who were known for their sexual digressions. So when I hear “Make America Great Again,” when I hear that “the America we know and love doesn’t exist any more,” I hear that we loved oppression, that we loved violence, that it was ok for American born men like Thomas Jefferson to rape his slaves – but of course me stating that is wrong because the real villains are the ones crossing the boarder [not to help their families, not to find prosperity, but to rape, steal and incite fear].

Now I am not in any way supporting assault by any party, because you cant generalize rape by age, gender, race, or even the act [the qualification of what each victim defines as their own sexual violation]. What I am saying is that – it is so easy to pull one or two bad people out of a crowd and label them. It is so easy to put a witch on trial and say “if she floats she burns” but what isn’t easy and what isn’t right is that our country’s leadership and media is leveraging one or two reputations based on color rather than creating support for the massive population of people who have been sexually assaulted or effected by racial bias.

Dear Laura Ingraham,

When I hear that “the America we know and love doesn’t exist anymore,” I am reminded of wars that aren’t currently happening, agriculture is flooded with pesticides to meet population needs, and that groups who identify as a minority or under a certain religion have a little bit of a chance of walking out of their homes without being scared of discrimination.

I am reminded that while we have countless members on the border, keeping their eye on ‘potential criminals and illegal aliens’ we have no one safeguarding our schools, or pushing for mental health and gun reform. When you say “the America we know and love doesn’t exist anymore,” I say damn straight and thank god, because 20 years ago there was no #METOO, there was no Black Lives Matter, there was no Marriage Equality, and there sure as hell was no one under 25 with a voice and a hand in government policy on gun control.

Mrs. Ingraham, you may have lost your career with Fox this week, you may be getting quite a bit of back lash for what you decided to say, but let me give you one more thing to think about.

My name is Rachel, I am 22, I am an American – and I am not afraid of Immigration, I am not afraid of ‘Mexicans’ and I certainly don’t believe that they are terrorists.

Dear Mrs. Ingraham, my name is Rachel and I think the real threat to this country isn’t the people trying to enter it illegally – it’s the ones with the privilege, the power, and the influence to distract us from the people trying to tear us apart from the inside.

In the past 24 hours Ingraham has received large amounts of backlash, but I hope this issue doesn’t just become another blip in the grand scheme of the media and the public. Racism isn’t gone, prejudice is still very prevalent in this country, and day by day I realize that we as a country have given voice and power to the wrong people.

Hate is as violent as war, and I will not continue to watch people preach hatred.

My mom always taught me that putting others down to push yourself up was wrong.

She said that the ones who are the most cruel are the ones who need the most love because someone neglected to love them in the ways they needed. I hope the people who hate the most find the love they need, because otherwise we will never be the Great Country we were destined to be.

 

 

On Public Apologies

When you realize you’ve been a total A**

I’ve always found it hard to put a value on my work. For me, working was never about ‘making it big’, and truth be told if I could make it so I only ever had enough to support myself and my friends, I wouldn’t care what that take home number was. Honestly, I grew up wanting to be a writer – so eventually I talked myself into thinking a two story card board fort on the side of a really nice road would be perfect as long as I was inspiring one or two people with my work.

Looking at my life now, a couple things didn’t turn out how I thought they would. My love life is a mess, my floors are carpeted rather than paved, I haven’t finished or published a book and my most popular blog to date at work is on goat yoga. I have no clue how I got here and now that I have I am so afraid to lose it that I’m just waiting for the shoe to drop and doing what I can to self sabotage along the way.

so how did this all start?

Well lately I got a job. One where I am so out of my depth and so to compensate [over compensate] for feeling insecure, I tend to act proud – too proud because on the outside it makes it seem like I have a clue… I don’t.

Truth is, I thought by the time I got a full time job I would be able to settle down, start believing I had some semblance of a life and finally feel like I had it together – I don’t. Truth is, I am just as lost as I was three months ago and the only difference now is that I have to hide this huge sense of guilt that I have been given an opportunity I don’t deserve. Maybe other people share this feeling. Like the successes that find us aren’t always the ones we’ve earned and no matter what we do we’re just chasing this idea that we can make someone proud.

I don’t know about you – but I hate feeling like an A** just as much as my friends hate when I am one. So the truth is – I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got/continue to get caught up in the idea that this step forward is bigger than it is. At the end of the day – I am still learning how to do this adult thing, and I know my friends are too, I just hope I don’t forget to show how grateful I am to them [to friends new and old] because life is scary, I am petrified and I couldn’t be where I am today without the amazing people that got me here today.

Truth is

I can’t promise I wont continue to mess up, I can’t promise I’ll make a difference yet but I want to. I look around and I see so many people that inspire me. Roommates, friends, strangers, all doing things that leave them exhausted and fulfilled and – and while most days I like to think that the little things I am doing now will make a difference when I finally feel my feet beneath me again – I can’t say that I am defining what our future will be and look like – but they can.

So to the friends I brag to, and the strangers who might understand what this feels like – I’m sorry.

and thanks to you I now know how to do better – and to be better – and it is all because of you that I know I have been changed for the better too.

Thank you.

-R

If working out was Sexy

Girls you know what I mean

By the end of any good gym sesh we are sweaty, hot, bothered, and none of it is in a good way. Guys – don’t act like you are immune either – you look [and smell] just as bad as we do because no one can look sexy working out.

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if working out was sexy we would all be obnoxiously fit

and we would all be much more inclined to go to the gym – but we aren’t and it is not.

Fun fact: I will never be an Olympian. I don’t have the drive, the determination, or the self control when it comes to food to be able to work out at that level. Power to the people who can – but it just isn’t me. [Hell I haven’t even been to the gym in a week] ‘

Now there is no doubt in my mind that Olympic gymnasts are sexy, as are most Olympians, but there is a definite reason that the judges sit closer to the athletes than we do – because they have to see the movement while we just get the wide angles of biceps that literally defy gravity.

My point of this is that like crying, working out isn’t supposed to be sexy, it’s kinda just supposed to be. But the important thing to note is that this is ok.

So my advice ….Get Swole in Solitude?

Look

As I conclude todays ramblings I would just like to give a round of applause to the people who have figured out a way to look good while working out. [You are in a vast minority my friends but we still love you]. It probably was not an easy journey for you and I truly commend your efforts.

So yeah…

To the rest of the population, guys, gals and otherwise, working out is a quintessential part of living a healthy life so my best advice to looking sexier at the gym is simply staying away from the mirror, push yourself, and stay confident. Love the life you live, love the body you are in, and forget about how you look because at the end of the day you aren’t working out for anyone but yourself.

 

An Open Letter to My Muffin Top

Just because they were sexy on Seinfeld doesn’t mean I want one on my body – my battle with being flub-ulous

I used to work at camp. Now don’t get me wrong I love children, but working with them. Well they tend to want to chase and poke you. As someone who needs personal space this was a long time struggle – but it wasn’t the space as much as it was the “flub”

Think of that scene in Nemo… “Nemo, go touch the butt (boat)” Kids are like that. They poke and push and being a favorite means you barely get time to yourself. Like I said I loved the kids, but could have appreciated some more space.

As a young teen I was incredibly fit, but then I grew up, I went to college and my body got away from me. Now I am not saying I am not healthy – I am saying I am normal and insecure.

The Half Baked Truth

Having a muffin top is common for most women, in fact I have heard speak that this little pouch of extra skin has the purpose of preparing our bodies for child birth, but as a 22 year old with no plans of getting  pregnant – id rather have my body hold off rather than being so proactively prepared.

My point? Who is to say I have to have a belly? Why is it so hard to take the top off? Well I think a lot of it is diet – but more of it has to do with our culture.

Personally I would love to have abs again. I felt strong and sexy when I did, but it isn’t as realistic as being toned. When it comes down to it, I feel like the best version of myself when I have my belly covered by high waited shorts – but that is no good way to live.

A Movement

Dear belly, you have asserted your dominance on my life. I respect you for being strong, for providing a pillow for my friends, for being there when I fill you to the brim, but you don’t have to hide. You can be proud, you can be present, you can be you. And that is why I want to start a movement. A free the belly movement that promotes self worth, self care and self pride among women.

#FreeTheBelly

We aren’t here to be normal we are here to be extraordinary.

How can you free the belly, how can you be proud of who you are and who you still stand to be? Don’t be half baked – be firm fluffy and bursting with flavor.

 

an open letter to the break room

oh the break room…

How I love the time we have spent together. I remember going to the store to fetch all the food. The effort put in to pull the carts, which were too heavy to push. The palate cart I also had to pull with fourteen [yes fourteen] cases of water and Snapple. This is the adventure I have since signed up for working at a small business.

My coworker and I walked through BJ’s with carts [plural] filled to the brim – and yes my struggle was real, but not as real as the struggle I face when dealing with my Oreo addiction.

Two hours later we returned to work – 700 dollars down on a months worth of groceries for an office of thirteen. The issue and gluttony of which is not lost on me.

you see…

Like many offices I have worked at, I have been forever blessed to have a break room full of food – but this gift is often paired with a guilt and lack of control. Like many of those around me I am a sucker for my sweet tooth – so while I originally thought that working at a health company would end my struggle from the temptation of snack foods – I could not have been more wrong.

an ode to my love of Oreos

To my friends, my followers, my family, I have a confession. While most grow attached to sinful pleasures, to alcohols and drugs my weakness is chocolatey and crème filled.

To my lover… double stuffed Oreos – Oh how I love the time we have spent together. From the day I said I would only have two, then two turned to four and four six. I did not mean to eat you so fast but you taunted me. Your packaging relaxed me, so blue and tinted with a subtle shine. I had no choice when it came to you; and when you were gone – I thought I would be free, but still there were more… so many packs more.ice-cream-oreo-frappuccino-waffles-60641

With my entry into the adult world I always thought that I would leave old habits behind, but my sweet tooth is one that no amount of dentistry or orthodontia has never been able to remove.

To my friends [and my dentist], who thought I had grown out of this phase, I am sorry, but my journey and love for Oreos is not now and will not soon be over. This love will continue to make your job [and my bills] hard to swallow – and while I am sorry, I cannot change who I am.

Oreos – I love you and know I always will.

dear break room,

I love you. I know our relationship will be long, fruitful, and expensive – But I promise to love you like only a true foodie can. This weekend will be long, and our time apart sad. I am sorry to cheat on you with my home kitchen, but you knew this relationship was never meant to be easy – only worth it for the two of us. For now, know I love you, and I will see you soon.

forever your love,

R

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Press Release

Coming soon…

an open letter to the break room – and an ode to my love of Oreos

We’re all just Awkward n' Adulting.