Have you ever had a side conversation in your head? Like for instance, when a person cuts in line in front of you at the store, do you ever just have a mental argument with them in your head? Lord know I do, I have one at lest six times a day,it’s the one thing that keeps me from not just Hulk shaming them into the concrete, cause ya know you have to act civilized and such. But then is taking someones shit just too much? When does that green monster show its face and we lose it?
Humans can only take so much from someone or society until we eventually lose our minds on someone or something. I mean there’s countless videos on YouTube of people loosing their minds at fast food workers, neighbors, ect. We see it as a crazy person just being..well crazy, when in reality that person might not in fact be crazy at all, all the crap they’ve taken has just bubbled over and spilled out into the real world.
Trust me I’ve had my own outbursts of crazy, not my proudest moment when I went to the Wawa (a local convenience store) and this woman was standing in front of the doors just texting on her phone. I was having a really bad day and I lost my mind at her. I looked at her and said “If you’re gonna go in then go! Don’t just stand there and waste space like an asshole!” She promptly gave me a well deserved dirty look and walked in.
Well I’m not a crazy person, not clinically diagnosed anyways, but I lost my mind at a woman who really didn’t deserve my nonsense. Usually I’m pretty good at telling people off who need to be told off, but sometimes innocent people get caught in my cross hairs. I am the type of person who refuses to take shit from anyone and in my line of work I need it, but I have to consciously separate the two when I am out in public.
We shouldn’t have to take shit from anyone, but when we don’t stick up for ourselves or call someone out for being an asshole, we start to just take it from everyone everywhere until we all eventually turn up on YouTube yelling at some poor Walmart cashier who let’s be honest doesn’t get paid enough to deal with your shit. We have to learn to only take as much shit as we can handle and we need an outlet for that pissed offness we feel to go. We also need to learn not to take so much shit from people, so if someone cuts in line in front of you, make it known you were there first and stand your ground.
We don’t have to take anyone’s shit and we shouldn’t have to. If I need to become some giant green super human to do it then by God I should have the right to!
Co parenting can be a battlefield, a total war zone of insults, hate, and a child stuck in a fox hole, to scared to take sides. For those of you who don’t know what co parenting is, it’s when a divorced or split couple have shared custody of a child and they attempt to work together for the benefit of the child. In theory this sound like a win win situation and for some this works out very well, but what happens when one side is just using the minor child as a pawn in their master plan to make the other parents life miserable?
Everyday single parents go through this type of situation and unfortunately the child is caught in the cross fire. Two people so engulfed in hate for the other that the one thing that never had a choice is stuck in the middle, used as a pawn in this war they never asked to be started. The damage done to these kids will shape them into the adults they will eventually become, it’s like the experiment with houseplants one plant was raised and nurtured and told kind words everyday while the other was neglected and screamed at. One thrived and the other became wilted and dry, imagine a child growing up in a volatile situation, will that child thrive or wilt away?
I do not have children and God knows I don’t claim to be any kind of expert on the subject, but I have witnessed a mothers love for her child and a father’s bitterness and hate for that child’s mother and a child stuck in the middle of a bitter battle. I see this situation from the outside, but I see the pain it can cause everyone involved. I’ve held a mother as she cried for her baby to come home after a neglectful father kept her child for his own monetary benefit. I’ve hugged a stepfather who raised a sweet little boy into the bright young seven-year old he is today as he cried and screamed about the injustice done, by a biological father who left his son to be raised by his mother alone with little to no help.
I’ve seen two people who would do anything to protect, nurture, and care for this little boy who against every awful and hurtful thing his father has done and said has become a grade A student, a loving big brother, and all around amazing child. It breaks my heart when a child is stuck in the middle of a bitter battle they never asked to be apart of. A battle where no one really wins, a battle where no matter what side you take someone gets hurt.
When the hurtful words fly and the screaming starts, is anyone thinking of the small quivering child huddled in the corner crying because all he wants is for the fighting to stop? The child who thinks it’s all his fault, the child who just wants to make it better, but has no clue where to start. Sadly, when someone is vindictive and bitter they lose sight of the people they hurt, they don’t see how its effecting a child who didn’t ask for any of this. They just see the damage they can cause to the other parent, they just see the dollar signs from the income tax they can get from the child they could care less about. They only see for themselves.
Co parenting with a toxic parent, is awful, it makes life a living hell for everyone involved. At the end of the day co parenting should be about putting your differences aside and helping to raise a child in the best way possible, you put the squabbling aside and you do everything you can to make sure you are raising a productive member of society. A child should feel loved, cared for, and most of all safe. It’s not a child’s job to fix a parents problems and they shouldn’t be made to feel like they have to.
If you are a parent with shared custody a child, please put your bitterness and hate aside and just help raise your child with as much love as you can give. Imagine what they could become if they were raised in a household where they received nothing, but love from both parents. Imagine the man or woman they can become, help them become the change you want to see in yourself and others. Imagine what a life that would be if we could cease fire and save that child from the fox hole.
So as most of you know I work at a hotel, most of the time it’s a pretty easy job. You get to meet some really great people from all over and then there’s those not so nice people who are just looking to scream at someone.
I’ve worked in hotels for about three years now and so far it’s been one of my favorite jobs. I’ve met and worked with some amazing people and I’ve made life long friendships, but over the course of those three years I’ve accumulated a lot of funny stories and some tips from my experience as a front desk agent. I’m going to tell you a couple of those stories.
So for my first story, this happened at the very first hotel I ever worked at. I mostly worked in the mornings and it was peak season for this other wise sleepy shore town. We had a guest who every Wednesday would check in with her husband and it was usually only for one night. They where locals and seemed pretty nice, we all just assumed they just wanted a little getaway as we do get the occasional local who’s just looking for a different type of scenery. Well I come into work one morning and a gentleman comes to the desk asking what his room number is. Now we are not allowed to give out any information about a guest unless they are the guest and the provide ID, I asked the gentleman to show me his ID and lo and behold he had a reservation under his wife’s name. So the guest makes his way to his room and we assumed that was the end of things until his wife enters the lobby with another man on her arm! As you expected chaos ensued. The wife had been cheating on her husband with another man and was using his credit card to pay for it! Now this was not a cheap motel this was a $400 a night hotel, how it took him this long to figure out where $400 a week was going I have no idea, but they left without fuss and we never saw them again until her husband came in asking for all the times his wife had stayed at the hotel. he was collecting evidence for his divorce.
My next story is from the same hotel, where the hotel was situated was near some coastal homes, many of which were people s permanent residences. This gentleman who lived next door to the hotel lived next to the ally for the restaurant. Well he came in and politely asked that the kitchen staff not throw their cigarette butts on the sidewalk since they blow right in front of his home. We agreed and the staff was notified, we apparently the kitchen staff after about a week didn’t care anymore and started throwing butts in front of this guys home. He got so mad that he collected all the cigarette butts, put them in a trash bag, walked into the lobby and up to the desk and then proceeded to dump them all over the desk. It took us forever to clean up all the ash and butts. He made his point very clear that day.
This next story is possibly the funniest story. I was working at this point in a different hotel in Cape May, NJ. Now most hotels have some type of communication log so every shift knows what happened the shift before and this hotel was no different. I came in one day and read the communication email that was sent, Nothing out of the ordinary a fight between a couple was broken up and other than that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until this woman walks up to the desk asking if we found her purse, so naturally I go and check lost and found and we did not have it. She goes on to explain that her boyfriend and her had a fight the night before and that he took her purse and threw it outside on what we called the grand lawn. I decide to go outside with her to help her look she says they were by the Koi pond. We search for a little only to find her purse was thrown into the koi pond. I contact my manager who comes and very calmly in his suit pants and dress shirt walks into the koi pond! Now this pond isn’t shallow this is almost five feet deep. He’s up to his waist in muck and fish water, but he found the purse. The lady was grateful and left, My manager then goes inside and proceeds to put what just happened into the communication log. He put “Guest’s purse was tossed into the koi pond. I went in and retrieved the purse. Tried to question the Koi fish, but they were too traumatized from the situation to speak. ” I think we laughed about that for a week straight.
My next story happened about a year ago at the hotel I currently work at. When I first started here we had a front office manager named Tim and an insane General Manager. It wasn’t the best working conditions, but I made it as bearable as I could. At this hotel we have a pool and a pool bar and in the summer it is just packed. We usually hire extra staff especially for the bar including some sixteen year old busers. This one fall before we closed up the bar for the season we had a sixteen year old boy as a buser. Well as I’m at the computer helping a guest I see and hear someone running, it was the bus boy, he ran right out the door and down the street. Next Tim and I see the bartender and she yells at Tim to run after that kid, he just stole a bottle of booze so Tim whose 6’3 jumps over the desk in his full suit and tie and proceeds to chase this kid down the street. He grabs the booze and the kid and brings them both back to the hotel where he’s now getting his ass chewed out by our GM. He was promptly fired that day and Tim was given a free drink for his efforts.
See I told you some crazy stuff happens! I’m not really fased, by much of anything anymore, but I will tell you it’s never a dull moment when you’re working at hotel!
Let me know how you guys like this post. If you like it that much I’ll try and post new hotel stories when they occure.
Many people have talked about depression, but few understand what it is and how it feels. Most people just assume it’s a profound feeling of sadness and if the person just goes out and has a good time it will just go away. Well depression isn’t so black and white, it floats in this not quite gray area, it comes and goes when it pleases and holds no regard for you happiness. For instance you could be having the best day ever, not a single thing has gone wrong then all of a sudden you’re over come with this almost numb feeling. Nothing matters anymore, you feel nothing, you just want to go home and lay in bed.
That’s just a part of depression, it’s a numbness that you can’t control, it’s a tiny person sitting on your shoulder telling you to just go home because none of these people, you’re so-called friends like you. It’s constantly battling with yourself to eat, shower, brush your hair, go to work, it tries and stops you from doing the most basic of human function simply because you have lost the will to care. It’s not some fad mental illness, it’s not cute, it’s not trendy. It’s life altering, it can destroy every relationship you have and can even destroy you. It can make you feel that the world and people in your life do not require your existence like you’ve over stayed you’re welcome.
I’ve been fighting this battle unmedicated every day for 10 years. I have seen a therapist who has helped me more than I could ever help myself alone. I have fought hard just to get up the strength to take a shower, I fight to over come the thoughts in my head that tell me to just end my suffering. I fight to be productive, I fight to gather the strength to lift myself from my bed every morning when every part of me says to stay. Depression is not cute, it’s a constant battle to stay alive when everything in you says it’s not worth it.
There are 16.2 million adults in the US that suffer from depression that 6.7 percent of the US population many of which suffer in silence. The sad part is that only 1 in 5 people will receive treatment within current practice guidelines and 37 percent of adults won’t receive treatment at all. Depression is a disability that costs the US economy $210.5 billion a year that’s 48 to 50 percent of economic costs attributed to absences and loss of productivity in the work place.
Is depression still cute? Is it still trendy? No, yeah I didn’t think so.
Thank you to everyone who’s taken the time to read,follow,comment, and share my post and website. I want my readers to know that if you or someone you love is suffering from depression please talk to them. Try and get them to seek professional help. You might be the only thing that could save that person’s life.
For those of us that have gone through a miscarriage it can be very difficult for us to be happy for anyone else that’s having a happy and healthy pregnancy. It’s a constant reminder of the life we once carried that was unforgivably taken from us, but for some it can be almost healing. It can help us over come the fear that we’ll never be able to have a happy and healthy baby of our own.
For those of you that don’t know my husband and I, back in November, found out that we were pregnant. We were over the moon as we had been trying for nearly two years to conceive. On December 5th I started to bleed, I went to the hospital a week later as my doctor’s would not see me will December 21st. I figured if this was a miscarriage like the one I had in April then there was nothing I or anyone could do, but when I went to the emergency room the doctors said my levels were great and the babies looked fine. I was absolutely floored. We weren’t just blessed with one baby, but two! We were going to have twins!
Fast forward to Christmas morning, Nick and I had prepared to tell our parents. Both my mom and Nick’s mom were so excited to become grandparents. It was the best Christmas ever, we couldn’t wait to start planning we even picked out names. On December 28th we had an ultrasound appointment, the doctors couldn’t find my babies, just two empty sacks, by them I should have been nine weeks. Over the next month and back to back appointments. I was told I was having what is called a blighted ovum, basically the egg was fertilized and had snuggled in nicely, for the next nine months, but somewhere around six weeks, my body decided my babies were good enough, my levels continued to rise and I had no indication something was wrong.
At just three days shy of thirteen weeks, I had to have a D&E to have my babies removed, My body had not recognized that my babies were gone and the pregnancy had ended. My heart shattered that day, my whole world had caved in on me and there was absolutely nothing I or anyone could do to stop it. I spent the night before saying my final farewells to the children I will never hold, hug, kiss, or cuddle. I had no choice but to deal with the emotional and physical pain I was dealt. I stitched myself back together with all the my broken hopes and dreams and went on with life as though everything was okay.
I did everything I could to keep my mind off the pain, when one day while helping a friend, I found out she was pregnant, just days shy of my loss. I had expected my heart to shatter and fill with anger and rage, but it didn’t. I didn’t hate her for having something I was denied, I was filled with such joy and excitement. I poured all my love, hopes, and dreams into this tiny little thing that I have never even met yet. I thought I was going to just be this forever broken creature but then, just when I thought my life was dark, this tiny little baby no bigger then a poppy-seed brought me so much hope.
Everyday since I have poured my love and devotion into this beautiful creature. It’s given me the strength to know that one day I’ll have a baby of my own. I’ll one day be the mother I’ve always dreamt of being, but until that day I will love my new Godbaby with everything I am, with this tiny miracle I’ll become the best mom I can be, but for right now I’ll be the best Godmother I can be.
Most people don’t understand adoption I know when I was younger I really didn’t. I didn’t grow up feeling like I was unwanted or unloved, but there was always a part of me that felt not quite while. Like something was missing, but I didn’t quite know what it was. I remember how my adopted sister and I found out, it was literally by accident. My mom was signing us up for school and my sister got tired of waiting for her to finish up and walked into the office and over heard my mom telling the principle that we were adopted. My sister ran out of the building and started sobbing I asked her what happened and she said “We’re adopted!”. My mom was trying to comfort my sister and then came to me and asked if I was okay and asked if we were still going to McDonald’s.
Since then I never gave it much thought, we grew up and my sister recovered from the news. We eventually started making up fake back stories about our biological families. My sister for instance said she was from Italy and I said I was from Ireland, we had fun with it and it never bothered me. I never really cared where I came from I knew I was loved and to me my adoptive parents were always my real parents and my adoptive sister was always my real sister. It wasn’t until we turned eighteen that my sister started asking my parents where she came from and who her biological mother was. Which for my parents was a very tough situation.
My sister’s mother was eighteen when she had her with no place to go so she chose to give her child up for adoption, by fates design she had given birth at the same hospital my dad was working at. My parents had been looking to adopt a child for a couple of years at that point and when the doctor who delivered my sister came to my dad and asked if he would like to adopt her, without question or hesitation he said yes. That was back in February of 1992.
Fast forward six months to a small town called Sharon in Pennsylvania, 6 miles from the border of Ohio I was born, August 27th 1992. My uncle who lived in Sharon practicing law was the one who helped my biological mother find me a home. She had signed over all legal and parental rights to me. My aunt and uncle took me in and contacted my adoptive parent’s back in New Jersey and asked if they wanted to adopt another baby and my mother drove with her friend the seven hours to come meet and adopt me. I was only a couple of days old at this point.
My life up until about six years ago had been uncomplicated, I wasn’t looking for my biological family, but my mother always insisted that we would find them. It never really mattered to me, I had asked my parents for my adoption paper work and I went digging myself. I didn’t know about my uncle being involved until I was twenty. He had refused to give my parents any information on my adoption other than whatever paperwork I came with so I had to go about finding my bio family almost entirely alone.
Over the years I had given up my search after many dead ends and bureaucratic red tape I had just simply lost the interest to keep looking, I had come to terms with never knowing my biological family. That was until my father became ill, I dropped out of college and moved home to help take care of him, my father past away in 2014 when just a couple days shy of my twenty-second birthday.
After his passing I emailed my uncle about the adoption and he gave me very little answers. I spent the next three years looking on my own for them, until I submitted an ancestry DNA test. I finally received my results May 25th 2017 and was connected with my second cousin Raine. She knew who my bio mother was and said she would message me on Facebook. She messaged me on Facebook and I froze. I had finally been confronted with this life changing situation, what in the world was I gonna do?
I had always had imagined a reunion with my bio family and had always thought it was going to be this amazing and loving experience. My expectations were high, when I should have kept myself guarded. I had found out my mothers name was Linda and I had five siblings! Three older brothers and two older sisters, a whole family living just a seven hour drive from where I live! It was crazy and exciting, but at the same time I had this nagging feeling I was jumping into someones life I had not been in for the past twenty-five years.
Linda and I had exchanged a few Facebook messages and she told me it was okay to contact my siblings to which I did and I was able to strike up a decent relationship with my brother Steven, but after awhile and trying to set up a time so we can meet in person. It felt that everyone was pulling back from me, I had just found my biological family and I felt I was already losing them. Maybe I caused issues, or opened old wounds that had been stitched back together for over two decades that I just unknowingly ripped open.
I was so scared I was losing them, I decided to pull back and give them their space. My intent was never to hurt anyone or force anyone to know who I was, but I had this desire to know more, like what do my siblings and I have in common? Do I have my mothers eyes or my fathers nose? I had more unanswered questions then I did before when I never knew them. I still hold out hope that one day when everyone is ready I’ll be able to make the drive to Sharon and I’ll be able to hug my siblings and my mom and thank her in person for making the toughest decision of her life and then maybe I’ll find out if I have my mothers eye’s and my fathers nose.
If someone you don’t already know I am a natural-born red-head aka Ginger. No, I don’t steal souls, and the jury is still out on whether or not I actually have a soul. I really enjoy being a ginger. Everyone loves my hair color, green looks awesome on me, and most men are afraid to piss me off which is a bonus. I can attribute my red locks to two things, the fact that I am Irish and Scottish. Yes, I am aware that those two places hate each other with a passion that can only be fueled by old grudges and bottomless pints of Guinness.
When I was younger I hated my hair color, I always wanted to dye it, but my mother wouldn’t let me. She always told me “People pay for that hair color.” Which I always found odd, but as I got older I understood, people actually did and still do pay to have their hair dyed red which is something I’ve never had to do. My hair has gotten a little darker over the years, but it still retains is fiery red glow.
I think the best thing about red heads is that we basically have superpowers! For instance we produce our own Vitamin D, we have a higher pain tolerance than most, and we require more anesthesia to put us under, but even though we have superpowers it always hasn’t been a great time to be a ginger! In the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries redhead’s were seen as being affiliated with satan and satanic practices.
Still today in parts of Africa that practice voodoo and have a belief system that’s heavily influenced by magic, redhead’s are seen as witches! I personally have never been called a witch, but its insane that redheads have so much power that we’re akin to supernatural beings.
I wish I knew how cool my hair was when I was growing up, but I am really lucky I’ve grown to appreciate and love my rare hair type. I do wish my hair was lighter than it actually is, but even still to this day I am hesitant to dye my hair for fear of not being able to get my natural hair color back, hopefully I never lose my red color, but if I do I’ll defiantly be dying my hair red again.