Who's the Boss?

I don't mean to be redundant. But I have a problem with bullies. I have a problem with the people who are often in power. I have a problem with "managers" and "supervisors". Even the terminology is incriminating. The little people are constantly being reminded of how little they really are. And I hate it. I'm not suggesting that we emphasize that benefits of communism. I know that leadership is necessary, but I also know that slavery isn't necessary. People shouldn't have to tolerate being talked to like their worthless and incapable of finding better opportunities.
Most of the managers I've had or known, have been a special breed of human. They're typically heartless, with really bad hair, and high water slacks that make everyone uneasy. According to The Big Book of Fake Statistics, 97% of all of the stupid people in the world are managers at retail stores or...spas.

Why is it that the people who were "nobodys" in high school, grow up to be the managers of grocery stores, video stores, and...spas? Why is it that the people who were stuffed into lockers during middle school, manage to break out of the lockers, graduate from law school and start creating policies? I don't understand who put all of the bitter, lonely people in charge. There is some kind of phenomenon taking place all around me. The most unattractive, evil people are filthy rich and immune to the recession while the talented, warm-hearted people are standing in the unemployment line from 8am-3pm waiting for relief.

Something has got to give. We are all worthy of fair treatment and respect. No one person is more valuable than another. When I see "managers" treating other workers like shit, I just want to start beating someone with a random baseball bat. I'm thinking, "just because they gave you a special colored vest at Wal-Mart and you get to "oversee" the registers, doesn't make you a celebrated citizen of the United States." Just give me a break already.

The people in this world who are really valuable, don't have to make other people feel insignificant in order to feel better about themselves. When I am forced to work for people who have no families/no spouses/no significant others/no friends/ and no sense of personal style, I just want to yank God out of the sky and say, "why has thou forsaken me?"

The Realness is Contagious.

There's an award out there for all of the outward, forward, bold, relentless writers who have no problem telling the truth...regardless of the consequences. And that award has been given to me by a dear "blog world" friend whose work I adore. His posts are always enlightening, slightly satirical, and optimistic. This friend of mine? Well, on 20SB we call him Garf. Garf gave me the Honest Scrap award which is intended for those of us who "keep it real". And if there is one thing I'm really good at...its keeping it real. So, with all the gratitude in my heart I say, "thank you my dear friend".

I accepted the gift with the understanding that I am now obligated to share a few details about my life that my readers are probably unaware of. For an open book like me, that's not exactly easy to do. Everything you all need to know, I've already shared. I will, however, dig a little deeper and find some juicy secrets that I might be able to unveil right here and now...

Here goes...

1) I am afraid of the dark. Really, sincerely afraid... and I have a night light. It's a sexy nightlight.

2) When I was a kid, I played house way too much. Things got rowdy. Often.

3) I am actually afraid of being too honest. The truth may set you free...but it also sets you apart. And standing out can be terrifying.

4)I don't eat seafood. Not because it smells and looks funny, but because I sincerely believe that my mother ate so much fish while she was pregnant that the very sight of tuna makes me nauseous.

5) I cry almost every day. I call my episodes "cleansing". My hunny calls them "tantrums".

6) When I was a child, I believed that everyone could be whatever he/she wanted to be. And truthfully, I am still convinced that that statement of innocence and optimism is true.

7) I fib quite a bit to people who I am not too comfortable with. I tell them what they want to hear. It's unfortunate. But it's how I avoid their endless prying.

8) When I grow up, all I want to be is a writer. Everything else is frivolous.

9) I turned 23 last Sunday. It was one of the most painful days of my life.

10) I dance naked a lot. It's liberating.

There. Now you know more about me than you would ever want to know. I want to offer this unique gift to one of my favorite bloggers- Jasmine. Her taste in new music and the hip hop culture is always accurate. Her reviews are always honest and on point. Therefore she deserves this honor.

Shit on you.

There are things we're told we shouldn't say. Things we supposedly shouldn't do. People we shouldn't write off. Friends we shouldn't lose...blah-blah-blah. Reality Check: From the ripe age of two...you're encouraged to allow people to shit on you. And truthfully, all of those disgusting appropriations make me want to vomit without apology. I'm puzzled. I don't understand why it would ever make sense for me to spend all of my days tap-dancing around the truth and attempting to avoid the hurt feelings of people that I really can't stand anyway.

I was born into a household of apologizers. I am related (by blood alone) to people who are constantly saying sorry without ever speaking out loud. They're terrified of not being agreeable and kind to the individuals who supposedly paved the way for them. It's enough to make a sane woman run down the high way naked screaming, "FREEDOM IS ALL I NEED."

Anyone who spends too much time being quieted and being forced into silence will eventually lose the ability to function as a warm-blooded human being. We were never intended to be robots. We were never intended to walk, talk, and breathe in the commonalities of mankind. To feel anger, heart break, and fury is to celebrate existence. It is pure madness to avoid conflict at all times in order to reserve relationships that aren't slightly beneficial in the first place.

I know a lot of people who spend all of their time talking about bosses they can't stand, mother-in-laws they loathe, and friendships that expired in 1992. Most of those people spend every waking moment kissing the asses of the people that they would probably murder-if murder didn't guarantee such a lofty consequence. I know even more people that won't admit that the very people they can't stand...sleep next to them at night. And look, I don't know about you...but I refuse to waste my (insanely brief )sexual peak years laying next to someone who doesn't know how to make love like a trained champion. I'm just saying.

Not only is this life short, it's difficult. And I need every opportunity to make the painful moments a little more joyous. I don't have time to cater to selfish fools or barbaric bastards who fail to realize that I need love in return for my kindness, time, sacrifices, efforts, and sincerity. I turned 23 years old this past Sunday and on that day I decided to redefine friendship, family, and love. I am who I say I am. This life is what I decide it is. My version of reality is the only reality that matters. Ultimately, I don't care what you think. Not because you aren't valuable, but because you aren't God. Therefore, your opinion means less to me than the penny that I dropped under the driver's seat in my car today.

I'm just being real.

One Size Does Not Fit All.

Lately, I've been catching wind of a new trend. A new norm perhaps. Lately... I've been seeing fabulously full women in the media more and more. And it excites me like no other sensation could. Now, I'm certain that my opinions are contradictory and I am promoting a double standard but I have to admit...I don't think that men who are chubby are going to be considered hot or delectable in the media any time soon.

Hey. I said it. That's just my opinion. You'll have to live with it. I do, however, believe that girls who fill out all the right angles of little black dresses are the new sex symbols of America. I've seen the term "voluptuous" every where lately. Young beautiful ladies like Whitney (from a few seasons back on ANTM) are changing the pace of fashion for curvaceous women everywhere. Even Latifah, the face of Cover Girl, in her latest campaign reminds all of us to wear whatever size we feel beautiful wearing. And I intend to jump on that band wagon and ride it until the wheels deflate. Because if anyone thinks that a woman with a little more to love is the sexiest thing since McDonald's fries on the dollar menu-it's me.

It took me 22 (I'll be 23 tomorrow) years to realize that being a certain size doesn't guarantee anyone a membership to the super-sexy-society. There are women who are toothpicks and could wear a rubber band as a bathing suit, that aren't hot because they aren't confident. Then there are women who can't fit into anything that says "one size fits all", but they are fierce because they refuse to feel less gorgeous just because they're full-figured.

All I am saying is that I love women who love themselves. I love women who know how to be unapologetic for the unique attributes and generous assets. There is nothing more intoxicating than a woman who takes care of every inch of her body and revers herself with the utmost respect. For example, Kim Kardashian* is the Marilyn Monroe of the millennium. She has curves and she doesn't hide them. She is sexy because she isn't the same size as every other woman in Hollywood. She's custom-made. And there is nothing hotter than being original.

*Kardashian was used as an example for body image purposes only. I don't know her personally and I'm not endorsing her personality, public image or lifestyle choices.

Thanks for reading. What are your thoughts about body image issues among women?

Work Hard. Play Harder.

Blogging is therapeutic. It allows me to share my woes and "wear downs" with all of my readers and it allows me to remove myself from this small world of picket fences, apple pies, and Harris Teeter grocery stores. I launched Relentlessly Real about 6 weeks ago and I've been telling the truth without apology-ever since. I share my opinions but I avoid details about my life in an effort to protect the people I love...and even the people I can't stand. But some of my new bloggy friends tend to ask the questions that we writers are terrified of answering. Including: who are you beyond the blogging? What do you do when you aren't making people chuckle, or nod, on the other side of computer screen?

And I, being the bold blog author that I am, am more than willing to answer those personal, invasively fascinating questions. I have no problem talking about the life that I live when I'm not jotting my thoughts down and "broadcasting" them for the entire globe to gaze upon. So, without mentioning names, I'd like to tell you a little about myself. I hope that's alright.

Let's start with the basics. I live in Eastern North Carolina where the summers are hotter than a sauna in hell and the winters are depressing and gray like sex with an incompetent ex-boyfriend. The spring and fall, however, are more beautiful than any photograph I've ever seen. To live here is to fall in love with nature again and again. We're a couple of hours from the beach and just a day trip away from the mountains. The side walks are perfect. No cracks, no gum-just cement and an occasional rebellious flower. There's a coffee shop or a sandwich shop on every corner and seeing a frown is as likely as seeing a shooting star. People are sincerely happy. Despite the economy and the war...there is joy here. And that's why I settled here. I hunt joy.

As far as my daily routine, I am lucky enough to have the two things in life that we all spend eternity searching for, love and purpose. When I wake up in the morning, I do so with gratitude and with the intention to make the current day better than the last. I blog in my room from a small indoor/outdoor table that I found at Target. The entire room has a North Carolina Wrightsville Beach theme. My bed is plush and warm...and the windows in my room are large and urban. My entire community is quirky just like I am. Some brilliant builder just dropped urban, inner-city condos in the middle of suburbia and farm land. It's random and it's excellent. At 22 years old, I already live in my dream home.

I work hard to maintain the standard of living that I'm accustomed to. Believe it or not-this rebel has a day job. I don't do cubicles...or conference rooms, but I'm a part-time manager at a local spa. When I'm not there, I am meeting with potential investors and writers for a magazine that I'm launching this Fall. It's a magazine for modern, innovative and independent women. I'll share more details later. (I'm bashful when it comes to my life's work). My days are long but my weekends and my nights are longer. I play so much harder than I work. The special person in my life owns my free time. When I'm not working, I'm loving. Simple equation. I'm all about good love, fine literature, great mixed drinks, and excellent pedicures.

What I care most about though- is people. I'm convinced that I'm here to do some good before they put me 6 feet under. I'm convinced that compassion will make this ailing world a better place. And I'm certain that love will heal even the most battered heart. There. I've given you me. Now I want to know more about you. It's only fair. ;-)