Why Mila Kunis Telling Ashton Off Was a War Cry For Parents Everywhere

Today during my usual morning Facebook perusing I read the following article from the Huffington Post.

Click the link below to read the article

Ashton Kutcher Is Learning He Shouldn’t Reward Himself For Basic Parenting Stuff  
Mila Kunis whooping Ashton’s ass about parenting was a war cry for every parent out there struggling through those issues with their co-parent( or lack of) and those who continue to remain silent.

 Many out there fear having this conversation with their partner. 

The article struck a chord with me personally.

 Perhaps I resonate with Mila; I am also a tiny fiery dark haired woman. Perhaps its her intelligence and willingness to speak her mind on such things that should be common knowledge. Both intelligence and common knowledge seem to be lacking lately in the world.

I made the following comment on the Huffington Post article. It seems that many out there have a similar story to mine, or relate to the timidness during hard times, a choice to keep peace rather than fix an issue.

Below is the comment in full:

“Dude, its actually a big deal. Like it shouldn’t be as big a deal and is a huge part of parenting.

I used to wake every 2 hours every night to pump milk for my disabled baby who couldn’t get a latch with breastfeeding due to complications and had to use a haborman feeder.

 Often my baby would wake up right after I was finished pumping and my son’s dad expected me to also do those midnight feedings because hey why not, you happened to be already up.

I fell for it for a while. I then noticed a huge difference in the way my mother in law approached my sons dad when he woke with the baby compared to when I woke up with the baby.

If he actually got up with the baby and left the room to head downstairs, Mother in law was up in seconds to relieve him of the baby and he would crawl back into bed. If I woke up with the baby, the entire house was silent and I was left to handle it all by myself. Mind you, his family is very old fashion and truly believes that moms are supposed to raise the children and care for the entire house as well as all cooking and chores. Having a kiddo with serious disabilities and multiple surgeries, daily physical therapy etc, it takes a huge toll on you. 

Between being a nurse for my son during the day, very little sleep at night and a partner who believed that once he was home from work (he guarded a metal detector while sitting on a chair for a few hours) that clearly he needed a break from the baby and needed to go play video games and hey, why didn’t I get all the house work, laundry or dishes done while he was gone? I mean, its just a baby.

As I am sure you can tell, this relationship ended after a few years.

 Having a partner who is actually willing to be a second parent is a huge deal and needs to be normalized. I was shocked hearing from friends who’s co-parents or husbands would let them sleep through the night because being home with a child all day is exhausting and its extremely hard to accomplish full complete tasks while handling a fussy baby. People who come home from hard work, or from a grocery shop, errands etc and understand that their time away was a break from the baby and now its their turn are absolutely amazing 💖

Lets normalize that behavior.”


I Dated a Schizophrenic

I dated a friend who was diagnosed as a schizopath. 

I did not know this until 3 months in and even then he told me he was a diagnosed schizophrenic but that he wasn’t really, he was being gang-stalked for being the grandson of Whitey Bulger. 

Then Aliens started communicating with him along with his ancient Viking “blood relative” who referred to himself as Redbeard.
Within a year I knew I needed to get out of the relationship, because he was never going to get better if I was still in his life. 

It took 4 years and a restraining order after a violent outburst to get him to leave.

I hope he is getting better and is doing well. I hope he has stopped using his medications incorrectly and stopped using various drugs. 

I hope he is treating his wonderful, amazing parents the way he should be treating them. I hope he is being honest with his therapist and psychiatrist.

 I hope that his mental illness is never a badge that prevents him from doing great things and having a career.

I also hope he is as far away from me as possible.

How I Lost 80lbs Without Dieting

Being more active. Seriously. That is it. No miracle diet, not staying away from gluten or fatty foods. No crazy surgery or stomach stapling.

All I did was be honest with myself and seek help from a competent physician.

There is absolutely no secret to weightloss. I was someone who spent years battling weight gain with every possible diet plan or program from Atkins to Weight Watchers. I popped more brands of diet pills than I can name. I watched every calorie and fat content that entered my body.

Yet I still couldn’t lose that weight.

Finally, I found an endocrinologist who listened to me. After blood work, I discovered that I not only had a thyroid disorder but poly cyctic ovarian syndrome, which causes a band of weight around the stomach that just wont leave. With the help of the correct medications and an increase in activity the weight finally started to come off, almost like magic.

I moved to a home off the grid. Walking down and up our insane hill that the show the Biggest Loser could use as a challenge was hard. Very hard. Swearing under your breath and cursing every damn thing within eyesight hard. It still feels impossible every time I climb it and yet I still make it to the top, exhausted every time.

Lugging and chopping wood helped increase my activity level as well. Try lifting a container of 8+ logs of wood 4 times a day and you will see a difference!

I went to a physical therapist and learned stretches and exercises that targeted the areas on my body that needed more help. Any time I find myself doing absolutely nothing I do one or two of these stretches.

I noticed certain foods caused my body to be more swollen and puffy looking. I learned to stay away from soda and fast foods or to throw in an extra work out if I indulged. I also learned that indulging in correct portions of those foatty or sugary foods I craved is ok as long as I kept up with my exercise routine. Eat two oreos and put the package away. Buy a smaller bag of chips so you aren’t tempted to eat it all in one sitting.

I became stronger, happier, was in less pain and went from having type 2 diabetes to not being even pre-diabetic. I loved my body, no matter the weight, instead of the hatred I had felt since my teen years.

The whole experience was life changing.

For those of you reading this, looking for a miracle. I will leave you with this.

Be honest with yourself. Do you eat as well as you should? Do you go for a second, third or even fourth helping? Food was never my issue and it took a long time to find a doctor who (doctor who, hehe) would listen to what i was sayong and believe me when I told them I ate healthily. 

If the portions and type of foods you eat are healthy and you still can’t lose that weight, increase your activity levels. Again, be honest with yourself. Are you active enough or are you more of a couch potato? Its ok to be a potato but try keeping some hand weights next to where you watch TV. At every commercial, see how many crunches, squats, or reps you can do before the show comes back on. Don’t eat snacks while you view your shows, instead lift those weights and see if there is a difference.

If you’re eating healthy and remaining active and STILL can’t shed the pounds, please go to your physician and discuss this. If your doctor doesnt listen, find someone who will. Don’t give up until you have someone who listens to you. You and only you are your best advocate. Part of loving yourself is using your voice and seeking the medical help that your body needs to be in the best condition it can be.

Love yourself, love your body and every inch and pound. You will lose that weight. Just be honest with yourself.

Cutting Those Cords

One of my biggest struggles in life – Helping out everyone and anyone I can and eventually getting seriously fucked over. It is way past time for me to realize that there aren’t too many like me out there – The people who put themselves second, the people who are struggling to make ends meat and still donate, clothe and feed the homeless, broken and wounded.

I once had a guy friend who told me one of my bigger faults is seeing the beauty and love in everything and immediately trying to help – “and that’s why you get screwed over” he said, blowing smoke from his mouth.
Many years later this “friend” would lie on the witness stand in an attempt to help my ex win custody of our son instead of splitting custody. My ex who then passed away suddenly, but I digress. The entire situation was eye opening and taught me to be much more on guard.

When you live on a path of magic, you forget that others out there don’t feel the same. They don’t care about helping those in  need and only reward themselves or those who they feel are “deserving”

Heck, one of my biggest struggles with the witchcraft community is the mass of fake practitioners – They don’t care about making the world a better place. They don’t care to help those who are in dire need. They only do magic to make their own lives better and usually don’t think twice about using magic as a weapon instead of a tool. Just because someone walks the path of the witch does not mean they actually care about any living thing but themselves.

The hardest person in my life to seperate from was always my mother.  Between, the abuse, the insults, the irrational behaviors – I always desperately clung to the hope of having some sort of connection. I tried music, films,  even approached from an angle of her interests, not mine. No such luck.

There was however one common ground – My mother spent hundreds of dollars on psychics, tarot readers, people who took photos of your eyes up close to see your future (I got a nifty photo of my eyeball out of the experience)
pet psychics, purchasing spells from online wiccans, even aura cleansers who would unblock your every obstacle for the low price of $400 an hour.

I would open my mother’s closet and find male and female candles covered in oils, or jar candles with photos of Tarot cards on the outside.

“Mom, why are practicing witchcraft?”

She would look shocked and disgusted at me, stammer about how this isn’t magic – her tarot reader or psychic guide had advised this!

I held onto that hope that this was our connection.
As I grew up and started reading cards professionally some of my mom’s psychic guides started to do exchanges with me. They were clearly impressed but I couldn’t win my mother over with my skills or knowledge. Some went on to ask to take me under their wing, but I didn’t feel ready.

Then I learned yet another hard lesson –
Just because someone walks a similar path as you (In my case, Witchcraft) does not mean they have the same goals, opinions, ethics, or understanding.

I have always been a solo practicing witch. I use magic to help those around me who ask or are in need. I put clauses (Seriously, if you are a practicing witch and have yet to add a “clause” to your magic- HIGHLY recommend) in spells that would make them inactive if it would have caused harm to a friend, family or loved one in any way because I absolutely don’t want to bring any more pain into this world, and all those tiny threads connect in bizarre and often unseen ways. I do the same type of clause in my protection spells so they aren’t suddenly set off or activated on the wrong person. And when they go off on the right people, (anyone purposely sending harm towards me, my family, animals and loved ones) BAM – Instant. You’re fucked, and most likely three times worse.

So, I think it’s time for me to go back to my magic, which while solitary, always leads me where I am needed and away from those who are dangerous for me to be around.
We all have unhealthy relationships or connection s in our lives. You, who have taken the moment to read this, also have people in your lives – those connections you absolutely need to sever- should have severed years ago, please do. Lift that weight from your shoulders and cut your chains. Stop seeking or expecting approval, love, affection, kindness from people who don’t deserve you.

Yesterday, I did something that has been brewing for 30 years. I finally severed the cord with my mother. I made it clear that if she had nothing helpful or kind to say or do, she could stay away permanently. It was hard, it was exhausting. It needed to be done.

I will leave you with one of the absolutely most important rules in Witchcraft –

“An it harm NONE – Do what ye will”
Most witches see this as golden ticket, an opportunity to do whatever they want as long as they aren’t “harming”

I view it differently. I see it as a path – a life where in every action you take, you do your absolute best to not cause pain, to not cause harm and misery. To not torment or hate, including yourself. Take a moment and pause before your actions. Go through a list in your head – Will this action/spoken or thought words/ or hell even taking the “passive” stay out of it stance hurt someone or something around me?
Will it help make things for someone, something, or the world better?
Really visualize those scales in your head, see and feel those cords and connections and see where it leads. And then, decide.

My Mom Hates Steve Buscemi

Hate may be too strong of a word. But there has always been a certain dislike.
I have always been a fan. From the smaller roles like in Big Daddy or one of my absolute favorites, Ghost World, Steve Buscemi absolutely has talent. The work he did after thr twin towers fell was incredibly selfless and brave. My mom however, does not feel the same.

Growing up, any time Steve appeared on screen, my mom would make a small *tsk* noise or say “Oh look, its Steve”
She seemed to avoid movies he was in and complain whenever I brought him up.
Then once I made an absolute horrible mistake. A few years after my parents divorce I absidmindely said
“Hey mom, have ever noticed that dad looks like Steve Buscemi in a Weird Al Yankovic wig and glasses?”
She exploded.

My mom has always been a very independant woman. While our relationship is complex -at best, I wouldn’t be the strong woman that I am today if I hadn’t learned from her.  She taught me how to handle customer service representatives in a way that I have never seen elsewhere. She is that person who will keep argueing until she absolutely gets what she needs. My mom will reward amazing service and argue to the death when given poor service.
Whenever she is challenged by a male authority figure she always says the same phrase,
“He was an ass!”
My mom taught me all of my sales skills. She used to take me on the road with her when I was young, and I got to see her sell all types of natural products, suppliments, and vitamins. I got to see all of new england and some other states as well if she was flying somewhere. Her territory has always been large and her independance shines through. It was also some of the only time we could spend together as she was often gone for a week or more at a time.

My mother grew up in New York and majored in Opera with a minor in Guitar. She always encourage my sister and I when it came to music, theater or art in my sisters case.
Quite a few of my moms high school and college friends went on to be in the entertainment industry. She always told us about a friend who was in the movie Into Thin Air and another who around last year has produced a show about making wedding dresses on TLC (I tend to ignore that reality stuff but my mom was thrilled)

So last year when I was talking about Steve Buscemi and his work on Portlandia, I heard words come out of her mouth that I had never heard before “I went to Highschool with Steve. I was two years below him…”
I was floored! I had so many questions. Why hadn’t this EVER come up in the last 29 years?
“Wow, what was he like?”

‘He was an ass.”

Animal Enthusiast

A sure fire way to get a quick reaction out of me is to utter the words “cat lady” in my general direction. The word “crazy” I don’t mind so much, as the best people in this world tend to be slightly off their rocker.
Often I will holler back “Animal Enthusiast!” I adore animals. But a crazy cat lady? Fuck no.

I understand the confusion, as the number of cats in the house does out number the people. (Two. There are two people)

However to be a quote crazy cat person, the assumption is that the human likes cats. I absolutely am not a cat person.
I do adore my cats, like people who love and tolerate their children but cannot stand any others.
My favorite pet will always be a dog.  Lots of cats however have wandered in to my life and I begrudgingly give them care, food and shelter until we find a new home or they somehow join the ranks. We do this with all types of animals, but cats seem to be the most common in need.

Until recently I had completely forgotten that I disliked cats most of my childhood. What sturred up old feelings of cat dislike?

Remington Steel.

Remy the cat showed up at our door a few months back. Through coyotes, bears, and a super mean pack of turkeys, she found her way on our back porch one full moon. The poor grey blue cat was a skeleton. I honestly thought she may not make it through the night. Remy was thankful, purring loudly between and during bites of food.
We posted photos and ads around, but no one claimed her. Soon we realized why. Remington Steel was absolutely pregnant.

Many months have passed, and we have found homes for all but two of the kittens (twin females) and still no home for Remy.  She has gained weight, is a beautiful grey blue with a silver mouth and yellow/green eyes. She also has resting bitch-face.

While Remy is an absolute sweetheart who loves to cuddle and is great with other animals she also has seriously bad manners when it comes to food. Remy is a food stealer, possibly the worst I have seen. She is food obsessed and will focus on nothing food until there is none. Then she moves on to the dogs food, the pantry, the garbage and even climbs into the sink.
From day one we have made it clear that stealing, jumping on the counters, knocking plates over, is completely unacceptable behavior. I have sprayed this cat with a squirt bottle so many times in one meal that she looked like she had been bathed. I also accidently taught Remy to sit on command which shows me she is smart along with being food driven.

I do know that somewhere out there is the perfect home for Remy, maybe someone looking for a mouser (she has caught 4 and a chipmunk who ran inside) who is great with dogs and other cats. Remy is sweet but needs an owner willing to work on her food obsession. She is smart, and made great strides but still has farther to go.

Adopt, don’t shop.

Animal Enthusiasts unite

Tomorrow is the 5th year anniversary of the death of Gabe’s father and my ex fiancee Alex C. Raymond. This seems impossible, and even speaking about it, I feel almost the same as when I first heard. How can this be true? There is always this little part of me that expects him to suddenly jump out in front of me because this has been some long running joke. Because that was his sense of humor.
While I don’t believe I can write up a full blog post in his honor, as this loss, this wound is still just as fresh as the first time. Instead of continuing the focus on his loss, I am going to instead tell my favorite story about Alex.

Alex was the kind of person that you didn’t notice until you noticed him. While he always blended in, his height was hard to miss, at 6’3″. Alex also had a full beard from a young age. If he didn’t shave, he looked like an adult male, at just 18. When we first met, Alex was finishing highschool 6 months early. He had been walking down a hallway he took every single day when a security guard Alex had passed every single day for 5 months suddenly stopped him, frisked him and questioned why Alex was in the building. But Alex didn’t have his student ID on him.

It took two students and a teacher to convince the guard that Alex was a student and not some armed assailant
When he got home that night, Alex was furious. How could someone he had passed multiple times a day not have ever noticed him before?
We talked and to distract him we started talking about a favorite pastime of his, messing with people.

Alex did it all the time, in fact we sort of bonded over our stories. Like I said, this is about my favorite Alex story.

Once, Alex was sitting in the middle of English class when an obnoxious student sitting behind him wouldn’t stop insulting Canada. Alex, born and raised Canadian with duel citizenship decided he needed to step in and defend his mother country.
Alex told the kid the knock it off, that he lived in Canada until he was 13.
“Really?” The kid asked. ” Is it true that Canadians don’t have dogs?”

Alex stopped. This person was an imbecile. But he knew he could have fun with it.

“Oh,Yeah.” He said casually. “Completely, dogs are rare in Canada.”

“Seriously?!?” The kid had a glint in eyes. “So if I took a bunch of puppies there, I could sell them?”
“For thousands.” Alex said” But remember, you have to smuggle them in at the border. Because you can’t bring outside dogs without permit, but thats”  Alex tapped his nose with his finger

“Yeah,” the other kid said, amazed.

I have no idea if this mystery teen ever tried puppy smuggling but Alex just saying “Dogs are rare in Canada” used to send me into fits of giggling.

I miss you Alex, and think about you daily.

In his honor, here is a link to my post about Veteran Suicide.


Regarding Furbabies

People always say that loving a pet is not the same as loving a child.
Bullshit. I have both a child and many pets.

I love them all so very much.
Now, I do not treat my animals like children. I do not drop them off at school and have teachers meetings or report cards. My animals do not have chores, and I don’t expect them to pick up after themselves although that would be amazing.

I do however feed and nurture both my child and pets multiple times a day. I discipline bad behavior and encourage and cheer on the good.
I say goodnight and have a bedtime routine.
I take care of them when they are sick, including treating them with medicine and giving cuddles and hugs.
I comfort them when they have nightmares(my dog has good dreams and bad ones and talks in her sleep)
I have been woken in the night by both animals and child because they needed the bathroom or they just needed to cuddle in bed with mom.
I bring them to the doctor to make sure they are healthy. I fear their surgeries. I take care of them afterwards as I have done after Gabe’s surgeries.
And I am heartbroken at the death or loss of my fur babies. I would be devastated if it was my human child, and have thankfully only loss the fur ones.

So OK, no, I did not birth a rat, cat, or pitbull from my vagina. But the list above sure sounds like parenting to me.

And, if you read that list and have pets that you do not treat this way, frankly, you shouldn’t have them. If you are unwilling to take that animal into your home and do those things please don’t get the animal and instead let it go to someone who will treat it that way and treat that beautiful baby the way it deserves to be treated.

Hug those furred and unfurred babies,

Amber Rose


I have quite a lot of musicals on my iPod and on CD. My son is always singing songs that he has either heard from me or from my collection.

One day I hear singing coming out of my son G’s room. He was 5 at the time, and is sitting on the floor, playing with legos and singing “Singing in the Rain”
I think its totally adorable. I start to melt, thinking about how cute he looks while he is singing.

My at the time boyfriend walks down the hall to join up.
He starts to shudder.

Depending on where you know the song from, either Singing in the Rain or Clockwork Orange, a tiny child singing to himself in an empty room is either very cute or extremely creepy.

That’s when I realized its all about what you are a fan of, or more importantly, your perspective. Are tiny, singing children cute? Do they cause you to perspire from fear?
Where do you know your music from? Is that glass half-full, half-empty, or causing you to question which child drank half your drink and left the rest?

At least there’s room for vodka,


Why I am a “No Nudie”

This is a blog post from another blog I have. It is under a different name. It is a blog in fact I believe most my friends and family are completely unaware of. This is because of its more adult content.

Usually I wouldn’t cross-share a post, however this one seemed like an important post to share.

“Why I don’t post nudes.

This might seem like a strange forum to talk about not displaying nudity.
I do not have any moral objection to nudism. In fact, the moment I can at home I shed my clothes and prance around naked. One of my favorite nighttime routines is standing in front of the wood stove, feeling the heat on my uncovered skin.

No, my reason for not brandishing it all for the world to see is completely personal.

It took me 30 years to learn to love my body. 30 years to find beauty in every curve, scar, mole, freckle and yes, even stretch marks.
I find so much beauty in my few grey hairs. They are like glittery highlights.

So how can I allow you, just an anonymous human, to look upon the beauty of my naked body? How can I trust that you will see and love my body for the work of art it is?
You see me for a mere second, and bam, in that instant, you have already made your judgment. You don’t know the battle that created those scars. The love of the ocean, sand and heat that caused those freckles. The mole on my leg is just a mark. Not something that has been with me since birth. And you don’t know the child that I sacrificed my stomach for and won those silvery tiger stripes.

No, if you want to see me, and  behold the beauty of my soft velvet skin, and pillowy white round mounds under my blouse, you must work up to it. Worship me as the Goddess I am. And when you are ready, (I will know when you are ready) you will see me, for who I truly am.”

Hope you enjoyed! I feel the message is important. Love and worship your body. The world doesn’t need to see it because strangers will never love it as much as your body should be loved.

Be careful who you are sending photos to, make sure they are worthy of you putting yourself out there!

Accounts get hacked, photos get stolen. I am not telling you to not post your beautiful bod, (unless you are under 18 and then YES I am telling you DO NOT send or post that nude!) I am asking you to proceed with caution and use that beautiful brain that is just as incredible as your body.

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