Category Archives: Random

while the cat* is away…

…the mouse* will:

  • eat red onions.  The cat won’t go near me if I enjoy a Greek wrap in his presence.
  • wear skimpy clothes.  Ironic, you may think. But this is the only time I control the AC.  Tropical weather it is! He wants to see skin, he can relinquish the power of the thermostat. Otherwise, it’s, unapologetically, Eskimo lounge wear when he’s in town.
  • follow sequences.  Uninterrupted. It’s like cat who wraps around you and meows and sits on your book and when you finally divert your full attention to him and exclaim “what!”, it just purrs. Possibly laughing at you.
  • blare folk, brit-pop, alternative, indie, world, all those genres of music that don’t have humans shredding their vocal cords or bopping into a shamanic schizophrenic trance.
  • make all vegan meals! He is special. He will eat my vegan meals, but then will want one every hour because his body metabolizes plants faster than teens go through mood swings.  And who gets to be in the kitchen all night?
  • not cook.
  • read. I just can’t read when he’s here unless he’s next to me in bed reading. And let’s be real, his print of preferences are import car magazines with lots of pictures.
  • watch TV.  If he’s in the main house level, I have to pause my shows until he climbs downstairs or he gets stuck in a televised reality and has to stand there – not sit, stand – and watch with his mouth open, begging for me to release him.
  • clean the floor and keep it that way. And door handles.
  • do yoga. Try doing yoga when a man is thundering about the house, wondering where this is, and where that might be, and “whoa, i’d downward dog you” comments. Not very chi. Not even a little bit.

My point to this entry is to give you this… it.  When you’re alone, when it rains outside, when you’ve had a long day, when you need to skip the gym, when you miss your husband.  My favorite:

*Cat = Husband

*Mouse = Wife


Filed under Housewifing, Picture of Health, Random

Raw Brownie Rabbit Poops

Raw Brownie Bites

Raw Brownie Bites from Rabbit Food For My Bunny Teeth, click for link and blog.

Tried these at home during a sudden violent craving.  I was determined to stick to the diet and succeeded with this recipe. I had all the ingredients at home, and I sure wasn’t going to drive out and work for my satiation.  It had to be fulfilled in 10 mins or I would die.

I also had husband and cousin approval. They concurred the flavor was sweet, fudge-brownie-like, and nutty. I thought these were chocolate-y and naturally and so yummily greasy.

Raw Brownie Bites
Makes 12 servings

1 cup pitted Medjool dates
1/2 cup unsalted sunflower seeds
1/2 cup walnuts
3 Tbsp raw cacao powder (or 6 Tbsp cocoa powder)
1/2 tbsp pure vanilla extract

Blend the sunflower seeds and walnuts in a food processor or high powered blender until finely ground but not a nut butter consistency. Add the cacao powder and vanilla extract and blend again until mixed evenly. Remove pits from dates. Add the the dates and process until a dough like mixture is formed. You should be able to sculpt the dough without crumbling. Using a 1 Tbsp measuring spoon, scoop the dough and roll into 12 balls. Keep in the refrigerator for 1 week or freezer for up to 1 month. Enjoy!

Also, you can later turn them into this:

Aren’t they the cutest little rabbit turds you’ve ever wanted to pop in your mouth?

Brownie Batter Milkshake

2 Raw Brownie Bites
1 frozen banana
1 cup unsweetened almond milk (or milk of your choice)

Combine almond milk, banana, and 2 Raw Brownie Bites in a blender and blend until smooth.

I added greek yogurt for protein as a post workout meal.  So yum.

More updates on what I’m eating lately, and what I’ve discovered that is healing me so that I can occasionally stomach dairy and other foods again and pee like a normal human. I’m now a flexitarian, no longer vegan, but eating extremely clean, mostly gluten free, and working out again.  Did I mention my joints are working again? What? We’ve got some catching up to do.


Read her bio. Inspirational.  And her recipes are healthy and easy enough for a fifth grader to make.  She’s a keeper


August 29, 2012 · 7:20 PM

Just Keep Swimming.

Moving websites seems to have been a bad move.  So far, only two followers remained.  Although I don’t intend to quit writing, I’ve stepped away from the laptop for a bit while I settled personal matters, hoping that I subconsciously get hit with a bright idea of what my next step:  To stay with WordPress, without the prospect for monetary gain where I receive a good and moderate audience while I happily ramble on, or switch to WordPress and risk starting all over again just to maybe make money, but flop around trying to rebuild an appealing website.

Blogger offers many options and freedoms that WordPress does not, but WordPress can be ready-made eye candy, easier on the eyes, since I’m an amateur blogger.  I admit that Blogger wasn’t as neat looking and takes longer to load.  My readers would have to invest patience while I learn how to flounder around with color schemes, fonts, frames and such, that don’t take much effort in this world-wide-location.  So, from a reader’s perspective, I can understand that its just not as fluid to follow.  And add to that the bombardment of Twittering, Facebooking, and other social networking sites that we have to follow, how we carefully have to consider how many email notifications we sign up for before we’re have 3,000 emails in our inbox, none from a human being.

That’s where my blog stands now, in purgatory.  The switch was not very successful, but it can’t stop me from writing.  So, where have I been for about 2 months you ask? Stressed.  That’s where I’ve been.  I had no job, tons of bills, a cat who thought my being ill wasn’t enough and joined me, and my anniversary gift (my car) broke down (still sitting motionless in the garage).  My dear ol ma insisted on buying the hunk of supplements I take to maintain my health because we were in a jam.  Still, my stress levels overrided the healthy influx of herbs and released floods of chemical toxins delegating inflammation to my pitiful glass joints.  I felt crappy, but I never lost sight, nor hope, because if I’ve learned anything from this volatile sickness, is that if you persist hard enough, after every swooping down, there’s a floating right back up.

And I’m up.  I found work… that didn’t pan out…then again, but it wasn’t a good fit… so I acquired another, that starts it two weeks.  We have income. We have health insurance coming our way soon.  We will have 401K that I can resort to for the next time I’m tossed out of a job.  We will have life insurance, so my husband and I can feel free to get hit by a truck without leaving our spouse penniless to marry another.  The cats can now eat canned natural food again like that spoiled rats they are.

I confess that I fell out of my diet many times over out of mental duress.  What can I say, cookies are my road to perdition.  But I’m rehabbing myself now that I can afford healthy food again.  Bottoms up to Celery Juice, hello ph balance.  I’ve taking up swimming since my good-for-nothing joints and muscles won’t do much else and I feel stronger.  I have found I’m very capable of handling a full time job without wanting to go on shooting sprees.  I will not settled for high stress jobs anymore.

I suppose that’s enough unorganized journaling for now.  I wrote for the sake of continuity. I will bring on the quality in the coming posts now that life is crawling back to normal.  But I sure missed writing, and sharing, and hearing from others who have similar struggles.

Any suggestions or ideas about blogging, whether here or from another host, I’m all ears.

P.S. Listening to Fiona Apple tonight.  I will still be listening to her croon when I’m 50 years old, shaking my fist in the air along with her musical angst.



Filed under Housewifing, Loopy Lupus, Random, Stimulating the Economy

“Mawwage is what bwings us togwether today….”

In memory of my (not dead) husband:

Mawwage is awesome.  Some of the time.  Most of the time. Am I right?


It’s been a year and a half.  I still consider us a pair of newlyweds.  I’m still madly in love and surprised at how in love you could be with someone you want to kill a few times a week.

I reckon since this blog is about being recently married and how to deal with so many changes all at once, it was due time to talk about man versus women.

If you’ve kept up with my mini-saga or read the bio, I’ve mentioned how immediately after marriage I – we- began to deal with serious health problems.  This causes a lot of conflict and confusion for a couple who is supposed to be  locked in the bedroom, high on endorphins and in honeymoon stage.  Even during the honeymoon, we had to make modifications due to my escalating symptoms.  Coming home to a surreal reality of problems is not for the weak.  While a women feels, “Thank God I have a good strong man to help me through this rough time”, a man is most likely feeling, “This is not fair! We’re supposed to be having the time of our lives.”  Though a wife still acknowledges the unfairness of it all, a man’s need to fix something he cannot can really test him, especially early in a marriage before either one has settled themselves into a role of new responsibilities.

This is not limited to couples with illness though.  Even before I got married, I was fascinated by the psychological relationship between husband and wife.  Being a naive and arrogant little girl, when I read books like Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus (for fun, yes, I’m a nerd), I thought, “Why don’t people just say what they’re feeling? Then they would both understand each other!!! It’s so simple.” Haha. Hahahahaha. Hahahahaaa.

There are delicate balances in a loving relationship, or a non-loving one.  There are so many fine lines that it feels more like a tight rope when having to express needs, wants, and emotions.  God forbid you overuse that word: f-e-e-l-i-n-g-s.

However, I’m proud to say that through hard work and application I’ve found the strength to be patient and found a man who in his limited-emotional male vocabulary, and has been patient with me as well.  Better said, we have been patient with the life we’ve been handed and managed to breakthrough to all the little surprises that life shoots at the fan and that all the poo that will continually be flying down on us just to keep us on our game.  Disease, unemployment, cars breaking down, Verizon rape bills…… I gotta give a round of applause for a man who deserves more than a break; and I appreciate him not breaking down on me like that damn Ford Focus he spent six months to pimp out for my anniversary gift.

He has proven to be made of that good tough material.  He still hasn’t learned to make me a gluten-free vegan meal to save his life, but he tucks me in when my body is swollen and takes out the cat poop for me. More so, he trusts that there’s still a little firecracker in me, even when I’m stuck on the couch.  My hero!

For all the other new brides out there, and by new I mean at least up to two years (so says one of my favorite books listed below), the “struggle” is normal no matter what difficulties arise.  Men are a different species and us wifeys have a hard time not swatting our men over their heads when times get tough or when inappropriate fart jokes are made.  But we must be patient for them.  We’re the ones who have to figure it out before they do because they’re not designed to read up or ask their girl friends for relationship advice.  Weepy and naggy women, no matter what how much we deserve to whine, can distance a man or make him recoil into passive aggressiveness, closing the door to certain intimacies.  We have to put our big girl thongs on and learn how to control the situation while making them think they’re the ones in control.  It takes developing a strong measure of common sense and sass, if we haven’t learned it already by the time we’re ball and chain’d.  We’re more scientifically gifted and versed in communication, so it’s our burden and privilege to set the tone, the mood, to let them feel relaxed enough to take the reins.

Men can reach their husband potential relatively quickly if we support their individual needs;  all throughout keeping ourselves together during our times of needs when they’re too stressed to cater to us.  They were not created to wait on our hand and foot to our every want, and even need.  As a matter of fact, we are their complement.  Some men will be very helpful while learning to love after the lust period, but it will not always come natural to them and we have to buck up during this process.  I will admit that some husbands can just turn out a dud altogether sometimes, but that’s a whole other story.  But personally, I think, the ones who are honestly committed,  deserve a wife who can make them feel just as safe and secure during rough times, as they can to us.

So, here’s what has helped me through times when we’re both stumped, tired, annoyed, stressed, you name it….

  • Prayers. I mean, heartfelt, all out, near-accusation-kneeling-supplications, to the Big Guy upstairs.
  • Good and Selective Advice.  Limited to family, and one or two blood-tight friends (don’t want to air business out to everyone), and wise/older/successful couples.  To them, I am forever grateful for their honesty.
  • It’s a Guy Thing – It’s next to my bed.  Looove this book.  A look into the feminine and masculine balance and why men have to scratch and burp while we wonder where our flowers are.
  • What No One Tells the Bride – This book, with collective realizations from different types of new brides, allows women to ease into the violent shock of living in a committed relationship with a penis carrier, especially the independent women.  It takes two years for the average woman to feel like a settled wife.  And we all fear becoming our mothers.  This alone will settle a girl.
  • Why Mars and Venus Collide – I read this one before getting married. The knowledge carried through to the big plummeting vows was priceless.  Out of all the Mars and Venus books, this one seemed most relevant in its insight into times of high stress.  An reasonable  look into why men and women can’t help the way they are and communicate, why it clashes even though its biologically designed to complement each other, and why modern stresses affect the natural balance.
  • Feeling Good – This book is not about marraige.  It’s actually about depression.  I never wanted to read it because at the time I did, I was not depressed.  But for anyone who is highly emotional and reactive, (which marriage can highlight this part of our psyche) this doctor can lead you into enlightenment about why we have certain emotional thoughts and  behaviors and how to find the root of controlling ourselves.  Knowing thyself.  The downside is that you can catch when everyone else is behaving irrationally too and you have to resist the urge of calling them out.  If we can command ourselves, we can deal with others better.
  • Holy Scriptures – Oh yes, I’m serious. And I don’t mean the Ephesians where we’re all told who we are to submit to and that’s that.  Proverbs 31:10-31.  It talks about the capable wife.  Every time I feel lazy, whimpish, resentful, or needy…I read this over and over and imagine a Middle-Eastern prowess of ancient times, taking care of business, and being honored by her hard working husband.  This woman is energetic, spiritual, a real go-getter, a community socialite, runs her house like a tight ship, earns the trust and respect of her husband by being proactive, and earns the praise of her God.  Highly inspirational and more motivating than any of the other books I have in my library.
Have I got it all figured out? I don’t think so.  There are many more obstacles and adventures to come before we croak and we’re released from our sacred vows.  However, when you start with hardship, but constantly come out winning from each test, I swear it only gets better.
If children are involved, please disregard everything I’ve said and please find another source on advice.  I know nothing about dynamics with little ones and I’m no where near ready to know or comment on.  I would dare to say keep the scriptures attached to your foreheads like the Jews used to do.


Filed under Housewifing, Picture of Health, Post A Week, Random, Under the Weather


Being solely a housewife, housewifing around, is as bittersweet as I ever thought it would be.  It’s okay, I like bittersweet.  It’s the only chocolate consumption that I have control over.  But not having a mandatory, preset hour to rise, scheduled lunch hour, and clock-out time has me all over the map.  Now, I could definitely see myself enjoying this unemployment if our income remained the same:

  • Coffee rendezvous
  • Charity work
  • Gourmet meals everyday
  • Expensive hobbies
  • “Lunching”
  • Raising babies

Nope, I’m confined to a 5-mile radius to save on gas and eating more rice and beans than my country people back in El Salvador.  Being forced to take it easy is nice on my energy levels, but the bone-works still creak and spasm.  I still clean-up in the same manner I did during the good ol full-time days, in tiny spurts.  I’ve gotten more workouts in, more reading, more rest, and family time.  But I’m spending plenty of time plugging away at the keyboard as if I still had a job to get out of the house as soon as possible.

My one rule when I got canned was to wake up and get dressed, including makeup, even if I don’t plan on going out or felt like poop.  Some days I dress casual, some I get in gym clothes, as if I could still make the treadmill cry.  It makes me move at a steady paced as opposed to PJ mode.  And sure enough, I’ve signed up at staffing agencies, scattered my resume across the Tampa-metro, and gave a good spike in web traffic.  In between brakes, I cleaned kitty litter.  They’re so much happier now that I have time to refresh their potty box more often.

Progress update:

I’m still avidly searching with hints at a slightly better future.  Not too much.   Let’s not get carried away here.  I’m looking for part-time so that my body may live 5 more years than if I had the full-time job, but those gems don’t abound.  Administrative skills call for “9-5” days which are really8-5.  What a deceiving term.  Focusing on the Downtown Area so that I’ll land in the heart of the city and feel more spunky than I did in an office with three guys burping and farting.  Making sure that this time there is a balanced gender environment, for sure.  I got a go-ahead from the county to take a Civil Service Exam and see if I can squeeze into a position for Library Assistant.  Dream. Job.

I immediately drove around my alloted perimeter and checked out books on the information I will be tested on and have been practicing my typing skills.  It is required to have 75 words per minute with 90% error rate allowed.  Haha, yeeaaaaa.

The next two days I will be practicing my little fingertips off and refreshing my multiplication skills (since I’ve had Excel do all my math work in the last 10 years).  I find the task challenging and exciting and it keeps my day mentally busier than killing the 30Rock Seasons on Netflix.  Even if I fail this time around, I love any reason to go to Downtown government buildings; and there is always next year.  I want that job.  I’m already practicing bossing people around, telling them to “Shhhhh!”, and visualizing myself rolling around in a pile of books when the lights are out.


So, what’s your typing rate?


Filed under Housewifing, Post A Week, Random

Unemployment: Just What the Doctor Ordered

New posts have been scant, I know.  Stress levels had spilled over the brim and inflammation levels had reached my brain.  Until yesterday.

I said I wouldn’t write about work on this blog… but I’ve been canned, so that dark little hole is unplugged and I can tell you all the horror stories and gripe until my face turns blue and my fingertips bleed.  But I won’t.

Bosslady came down from New Orleans to let me go.  I did not see this coming.  Budget cuts, not enough work, blah, blah, blah.  Until I have evidence to the contrary, I will assume they were implying, “bye bye sick lady” (that’s my cynical side talking).  However, for a change, Bosslady seemed genuinely distraught about having to let me, and a few others go.  She rolled in without barely looking at my face until the moment she called me in to “talk” to me.  Even then I didn’t see it coming, but I sent a quick prayer for peace to control myself from spewing out obscenities about the hell I’m in.  I walked in in peace, and came out of there with even more peace.


I have bitched and moaned enough about that place.  At this point, venting about it is just piss in the wind.  Enough emotional energy has been wasted there.  Enough neck veins have gorged themselves stiff.  More than all the collective sighs and under-breath mutterings have been emitted.  Now, I’m free and absolved of being a quitter.  Because I’m not a quitter.   I should have been, the moment I realized that place started to take an emotional, therefore, a physical toll on my displaced chi.  But I waited it out like the good girl I’ve forced myself to become.

I drove home, Husband waiting for me with a shot of tequila, he with a Damiana drink *(that we still have leftover from out honeymoon. Yes, we went through customs with about eight bottles from Cabo with us).  I tell you… it was like I took a bottle of Xanax.  I was laughing, cracking jokes, and carelessly having a conversation, at our living room, with my favorite person.  Something that hasn’t happened as much as it should in the last few weeks.

You know how when you go to the doctor with a million complaints and they just tell you you need to reduce your stress, right before your adrenalines spikes from resisting the urge to punch him in the nads for such a daft answer?  Well, he was right.  Let go of that frickin job that makes you miserable.  Obviously, we’re not all in the position to lose our salary and benefits.  Hell, I wasn’t.  But isn’t like Americans to wait until you have a heart attack to stop eating hamburgers?  How long would I have stayed in that personal Hades until I spontaneously burst into flames?

What happens now? I’m not sure.  All I know is that this morning I actually got to partake in faith-based works on a Tuesday morning and I’m more a human than I’ve been in a while.  I just finished filing for unemployment.  My house will be spotless now that I have time to tend to it.  By the end of the week, a job hunt will ensue, after vegetating for a few days. That in itself is reason for another aphrodisiac drink (see Damiana link above).  Being without health insurance, as near-futile as it is, is essential for Husband and I.  But this is a brand new slate, and now I might have the ability to be more picky about where my next job will be.  Maybe not.  Maybe I’ll just fall into another slaving demise in order to survive our increasingly stupider economy.  I’m not sure how we’ll afford my elaborate holistic health treatment and the thousand of supplements I need just to function, but strangely, I’m not worried about it. These things always work themselves out if you don’t get lazy about it.

Meanwhile, I’m so grateful that I was kicked out.  I’m looking forward to the upside of not being in the negative and drowning environment that killed my spirits everyday.  I finally have the opportunity to think, I mean, really think, about my next move in regards to a job that doesn’t dual with my physical and mental health.

My only regret is turning in the office key so quickly.  I would’ve come in the dark, before business hours the next day, and peed on the Swede’s fabric chair as my final building exeunt, with a note behind that read: “We can hear everything you do the bathroom.”

Enough about personal problems!  If your stress levels are coming out of your ears, here is what was helping me decompress before the big news: Ginseng Complex! and Super Energy Up! from The Vitamin Shoppe.

If you have Lupus, or any of the inflammation based diseases,  stress is an enemy of extreme.  The amount of backlash from tension and tiredness will start to decompose you before you expire.  Two weeks ago I started taking this and I was suddenly able to think without short-circuiting, crying, taking nap after nap, other bodily functions if you know what I’m saying, relax, etc.  Hair loss that comes with many autoimmune diseases is at a halt, which is more important than walking to me, but I’m even able to walk longer periods of time right now.  I recommend it to anyone who feels they’re about to go postal.

So, if you can’t bring yourself to tell your boss what you really think about him and get yourself fired, read up on B-12 and chinese herbs.  Little tid-bit: Americans market Ginseng as an energy booster.  Chinese apply Ginseng to achieve calmness.  Center your chi people!



Filed under Housewifing, Loopy Lupus, Post A Week, Random

Britney Spears Prophesizes the End of the Times

Housewives, either with lucrative careers or unsatisfying desk jobs, still, at the end of the day, have the inherent need to socialize, be involved, and do their part in the world.

*Like I mention in my Tid-Bits,  I won’t be involving the spiritual aspects that fulfill women, or any person; although it does largely pertain to some of the following.  Fill in your own blanks there.

Aside from yapping with girlfriends and contemporary mommies, secular interests and exchangin ideology plays a part in women’s connectedness. News, politics, trends, and world events are a part of that background life, even if it’s not personally high in our esteem.

In the case of politics, personally, I don’t carry these things in the forefront or feel too strongly about them.  I’m neutral about politics, and try not to opine on something that is only a smoke-screen, while the top-dawgs play chess with us pawns.  I only try not to watch in horror.

My attention attempts to focus on my home, my family, faith, friends and some R&R.  But when I am housewifing away and needing to distract myself from tedious laundry folding or that husband is still two days from returning home, I turn on that frickin TV; like a robot.  And since I only have a meager nano iPod -because I lovingly surrendered my 120GB treasure with a 300,000 song capacity to Husband for his job- the residual comparison that of 8 gb’s is not enough to bother changing out the same old albums.  And, I’m easily bored by not-new music.

Slightly digressing, I did get the new Britney Spears CD, Femme Fatale, but it’s only okay, and the auto-tune isn’t going to carry my interest through for more than a week.   So, again, the TV.  And since basic television (no cable or satellite by our mutual choice, or we’d never get anything done) is so bad it makes you want to cut yourself in inconspicuous body parts, you’re left with the painstaking George Lopez or the predictable 10:00 o’clock news.  There is only occasional relief from the show Fringe, which is bad a$$.

So the options:

—boredom by radio music without real instruments

—death by un-funny, mediocre, or overly scripted news and television, out-shined by a bombardment of commercials of the plastic surgery you need and getting your Feast On at Checkers

— or silence.  And teaching the cats to say dirty words in Spanish.

And I shamefully admit to having a slightly unbalanced rotation of these.  Except for the cat thing.  You know I don’t speak Spanish, Baxter!  I usually pick silence, and then my housework has no rhythm and preparing a simple meal takes  lifetime to complete.

Until I can figure out how to hook up radio to my stereo or afford another mega-iPod, my goal is to keep that TV off, even if I need a lending hand in the background while I wash the dishes (my dishwasher sucks).  I will not allow Inside Edition to create ambiance in my house.  I won’t have it anymore.  I will succumb to going back and forth, with soapy hands, between my sucky iPod and moving the shuffle button along through the albums I’m sick of.  I will look into audiobooks, since I don’t have time to read anymore anyway.

But the point to all this is mostly that:  I will no longer bother watching the crap on television unless I’m purposely going to watch a specific show or carefully selected movie (one with actual dialogue) that I like.  No. More. Mainstream. Media.  No more re-runs of that dysfunctional-hailed lunatic Charlie Sheen’s Two Men and a Baby or whatever.  Not funny.  Not charming.  Downright degrading and misogynistic.  A quick mourn for all the brain cells that I’ve neglectfully exposed to the tube and moving on.

However, I don’t think its wise to be completely disconnected from world events either.   Especially the way things are going now.  But ABC and Faux (Fox) News is definitely not the place to know what’s going on.  If I hear about one more dog who adopted a litter of pigs or find out what a Snookie is despite all my efforts to be dis-informed about it/her/him, I swear I will go Postal on the Good Morning America team.  (I have a dream of punching them in the face, all in a row).  The mainstream agenda pushes mental illness on kids. Hell, they push ADHD on any person with a hint of stress.  They’re feeding us bull about wars and wasting air time with highly scrutinized rehearsed, cut, rolled, and smoked presidential press speeches, which only inform of us our impending doom.  And they show emotionally unnecessary playbacks of the most painful scenes in Japan.  And we watch, because what other news do we know?  And because our brains are genetically (more recently technically and addictively) wired to watch train wrecks.  And so our stress levels follow suit.

Now, I don’t know if there is an elephant in the country about who owns the news stations and the way they choose, chop and screw the information they’ll force-feed us, or whether people genuinely know that there is so much more going on then a soldier saying hi to his family on webcam.   A buttload of is not being said about what truly affects our day-to-day and though in the end, we cannot do much about it, if I am to be informed, I’d rather hear some unfiltered and propaganda-exempt free-press.  Or read somethings else with IQ (or EQ) value.

In case you’re curious, here are some links of the more informed, publicly censored , journalists who don’t require an excessively staffed entourage and botox to be on a screen, without the mind-numbing, intelligence-mocking, drug-pushing mumbo-jumbo on TV:

It’s also free from other alternative, schizophrenic, fear-mongering news you can get from Alex Jones or Infowars.  These guys scream ‘conspiracy’ and although it is mostly likely true, if you holler like banshee, people will automatically question your veracity. Thank you for that, Reptilian George Bush believers.

I like the more fact based, neutrally dispensed, honed key points, and occasionally healthy whistle-blowers,  that actually tell us where the real problems are coming from and leave it up to us how we will protect ourselves and our families.  Issues like:

The pentagon spending more money on war that the government spends on the Citizens of America.:

Or how Monsanto (the boss of mostly everything you buy on the shelves and produce section) is still secretly circumventing ways around the FDA and USDA to genetically modify our foods, unnaturally altered foods that are getting people sick.  *ferociously points at self!!!*

And while on the topic of unproven conspiracies, Brit-Brit’s hit song is the same exact song as Enrique Iglesias, “Tonight I’m Loving you.” Yes, it is.  If you’re keen on picking up on pattern recognition, you already suspected this.

I know, I know…from the outside in, it seems I have a cynical way to view the music and tv that comes into our homes. But yes,  there is so much garbage out there eager to reach our eyes and ears and I’m not letting it come into my home to leave me wondering why I feel so off, disconnected, conflicted, and misinformed.  Even unmotivated at times.  The numbers of issues and our general ignorance has played a huge part in why I’m not healthy and must spend my free time catching up on chores.  So yes,  I’m a little more careful of what buzzing media influences my view of life.  And yes,  I’m also just insatiably curious of why the Department of Defense is mysteriously, unquestionably, not required to list their books when they suck up all our monies.

As fun as it is to sing and “keep on dancing til the world ends”, all that party vibe, live for the weekend, or reality TV has a small, monitored, place in my little world.  With all I got going on, with all that the universe has going on, I had momentarily slipped into the hypnotic bad habits of the American mass, but occasionally I take note of where I’d like to be at and whether I’m there.  The more important things have my attention now.

I will stick to reading, maintain a relatively awareness to the world around me, keeping up with the times but away from the hype, more in-tuned with building relationships, individual growth, and keeping my house a peaceful, cozy place.

Thanks for reading and hope you get your tax refunds back before the universes’ consciousness shifts.

P.S. My husband thinks I’m a dork.  Haha.

Disclaimer: I understand this is probably not the most popular standpoint when it comes to media, entertainment, and leisure, but it’s taken about 28 years to embrace the gritty feeling of going against the grain.  That being said, I relate to all and respect everyone’s stance on how they choose to work, play, and their individual viewpoints, whether strong and laid-back.  Variety is the spice of life and it helps raise the important questions.


Look at that! In español.  What?  You thought Telemundo wouldn’t stoop to corporate buy-outs?

Pa tu mama!

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