First True Love

With Father’s Day coming up in just three short days, of course I have memories of my dad running through my mind.  It’s hard to believe that this will be the sixth year that I have not been able to call, text or go see him just to say “I love you”…or simply “I miss you”. I remember shortly after he left this world so abruptly, I would call his phone over and over with hopes that he would finally answer.  Of course, he never did.

Before I move onto sharing a few of my memories, I’m reminded of a status I wrote a few months back:

At first I cringed, then I sighed.  That glittery strand of hair I see sparkling in my reflection isn’t my blonde growing back in…it’s gray.   I took another look and realized I should be happy, and I am.  Growing older is a privilege denied to so many and I should be appreciative that I am alive and breathing.  Now I just want a really cool gray streak to grow through my hair!

How true it is! Too many are afraid of growing old that they miss out on the “then and now”.  I am by no means in any rush to be my future self, but I am not scared of the day that I look in the mirror and see a slightly more wrinkled, possibly gray-er, version of myself.

My father was taken from my mom, and us 6 kids, at the young age of 59…a few months shy of his 60^th birthday, and only a few weeks after him and my mom celebrated their 40^th wedding anniversary. 40 years! How amazing is that? They grew up in an era when you did not run away from something merely because it may have had a broken piece; you stayed and worked on it until it was fixed and full again.  I am so thankful that my parents raised us children with such strong morals and guidelines so we could turn into the adults we have become; I do not have enough words to define the amazing role models they were in every part of our lives.

My dad was my first true love, as is the case with any girl and her father if you’re lucky enough.  I was his baby girl that he spoiled rotten when he could, disciplined when he needed, and threw the baseball with when I wanted.  Everyone knew him as “the weatherman” but he was first and foremost a family man.  Anyone that knew/knows my family can tell you that without hesitation.  Our lives weren’t always perfect, we weren’t always running around in flower fields laughing and blowing bubbles, but looking back through my memories – we were, and still are, Smith strong…we always stick together.

One of my funniest memories of my dad follows:

Whenever someone would recognize my dad from TV, they would say “hey, aren’t you Robert Smith?” What would he reply? He would laugh and say “no, you have the wrong guy, I’m just a traveling magician”.  He would the proceed with one of his million magic tricks that I have seen at least million and a half times.  I would do anything to see one of his magic tricks, just one more time.

I will end with one of my favorite “dad” memories, which just so happens to be the night before he died.  I had just arrived out at their house in the country, it was a cool night, the stars were all out and he wanted to show me the new hole that he had dug for the project he was starting the next day.  The pride in his eyes I will never forget.  After we went inside, my dad and I sat in his study and watched oldies music videos for what seems like hours to me now. In reality, who knows how long it really was.

Now, before I go I want to remind you all – please don’t take advantage of your time on earth. You never know when you will breathe your last breath, when you will kiss your last kiss, laugh for last laugh…you get my point, right?  Tell your family you love them every day, but more importantly .. SHOW THEM.

Free the…nipples?

Did my title intrigue you? Usually whenever people see, or hear, the word “nipple” all the sudden they are like a puppy dog that just heard the word “bacon” from 100 yards away. Ears perked up, tongue slobbering wet, tail wagging, get a running start, let’s get some…NIPPLES BACON!

that’s my sweet angel, Betty White (a bratty miniature schnauzer that loves bacon)

OK, I need to get back on track – this topic is not about my dog. Sorry, maybe another time I’ll tell you all about her, but for now I need to talk about nipples.

Has anyone read about the Free The Nipples campaign that has been making it’s way around the interwebs? If not, click the link above, read about it and then come back to my rant discussion. If you aren’t the researching type, here is a brief description:

FREE THE NIPPLE, A MOVEMENT WHICH FIGHTS FOR WOMEN TO BE ALLOWED TO GO TOPLESS IN PUBLIC

Let me get this straight – this is something people are actually fighting for? Out of all the tragedies this world is facing, we’re going to argue about the freedom for women to run around topless? I guess so, I mean, I am writing about it so I guess I’m part of the problem. However, while I am pro HUMAN rights, I’m not pro-women-showing-their-nipples in public.

What happened to fighting for the starving and homeless men, women and children? Is that not *cool* anymore?

If you’re not used to my writing style, you’ll have to accept my apology in advance, my mind wonders but I do always end up back on topic – promise!

The pro-nip groups are arguing that a woman’s nipples are no more sexual than a man’s, and women should have all the same rights that men do.  I can see where their basis for an argument comes from, but it is not deeply seeded.  Fact is, men and women look at women’s breasts in a very sexual way and having the ability to walk around with your bare breasts out is not going to change that fact.

Let’s start with one of the main problems that would come with women walking around topless – increased sexual assault.  Look at the cases of rape and verbal/physical sexual assault that women already face on a daily basis…and this is with them not having their breasts completely out.  I am a victim (yes, victim!) of having large breasts, so no matter how high my neckline is, 9 times out of 10 my cleavage is out whether I want it to be or not.  I have seen the stares, heard the comments and I could not imagine what would come with having them BAM! all the way out!

I do not believe for one moment that a the way a woman dresses should affect the way men (or women) treat her, it’s not acceptable at all. But, let’s get real for a minute.  We live in a crazy world, and the more provocative a women dresses the more attention she will receive.   This does not excuse the behavior of the perverts in this world, but the negative behavior is inevitable.

We also need to look into this – when is the behavior considered negative and when is it considered acceptable flirting?  In my early years, when I would actually leave the house to go somewhere other than work and the gym, I would go out with my girlfriends.  Some of them would have necklines that plunged down to their nether regions (OK, maybe not that low, but you get my point).  If a guy that deemed “hot” would comment on how sexy they were, my friend would accept the, what I call, negative perverted comments.  BUT if a minute later someone they deemed “ew, gross” would comment on her sexy attire, they would consider it sexual harassment and want to call the bouncer over.  WHAT?! How is that OK?  It’s simple – it’s not.

I am aware that once, in the early 1900’s, men were not allowed to walk around with their shirts off either – it was considered indecent. I completely agree with that and I still consider it offensive! I would rather live in a world where men didn’t walk around with their shirts off. Sorry guys, but nobody wants to see that but you!  So, question is – why don’t we fight to remove that “right” instead of fighting for women to join in on it?

So, just because men have this right – do you think it means women should also? And, if women get the right, do you think they’ll actually walk around with their tops off? Or is it just a matter of principle, of having the right?  Tell me your thoughts.

Half The Woman She Is

With the transition to my new position in the Columbus office (yes I got the job I ranted about in my last post, a job that I now LOVE), I’m a few posts short of my goal of one a week…ok, more like 6 posts short. BUT I’m back, and that’s what counts right? I’m sure you were all dying to know what i had to gripe about next.  Well, you’re out of luck (or in luck, depending on your view) – there’s no griping today!

Scott and I were out on the town last night, cruisin’ the night life, picking up chicks…wait, wrong life.  Let me start this again: Scott and I were out running errands last night – you know,t he usual wild Friday night shenanigans.  This week has been work, the gym, work, the gym, rinse and repeat, so I haven’t been out to any stores.  The first thing I noticed is that the stores were all bombarded with flowers, chocolates, gift baskets, etcetera etcetera. I’ll give you three guesses why all of these goodies were around, but hopefully you will only need one.  That’s right! Tomorrow is Mother’s Day!

This week I decided to do some research on the meaning behind Mother’s Day.  Honestly, being the curious human that I am, I cannot believe it has taken me so long to do a little googling (is that word listed in the dictionary yet?) to understand the meaning of this specific Hallmark Holiday.  After a few articles, I realized I had it all wrong – Mother’s Day actually has some meaning to it, and it’s not just a Hallmark Holiday.

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a history lesson; just read on and give me a few minutes to tell you what I learned and then I will get to my point.  Spoiler alert: my point has nothing to do with big corporations draining us of money for this simple holiday but fret not! That post is something I am working on and hopefully I will have it together sooner or later.

I read quite a few articles, and each one had a similar basis but each contained a different meaning behind Mother’s Day; I found my research quite interesting.  In one article, the author states the celebration dates back to ancient Greeks and Romans paying homage to the Mother of Gods.  The author goes on to mention that more modern days celebrations have religious roots that tie in with Lent and in the United States it began with showing honor to mothers that struggled with women’s suffrage and life in a secular world.  So, did any of you know that it had an actual meaning?  Part of me still wonders if Hallmark (I’m using them as a scapegoat) plays off these ancient celebrations just to make an extra buck…but like I said that’s a topic for another day.  There is much more information on the link I included but I only listed the basics to save you some time and a possible headache.

Ok, mini History lesson over and onto my point.

The “point” of this blog post is the literal reason I am here today – my mother.  Now I know we all say our mother is the best, the most beautiful, so on and so on but, you guys…my mom is the real deal.  Being one of the oldest in her family of 14 (12 kids, grandma had her hands full!), my mom has always been the motherly type and went on to have 7 children of her own after she married my dad, me being child number six.

With every day that passes I find myself becoming more and more like my mom, and you know what? That is something I am most proud of. Growing up, most teenage girls are terrified to become their mothers…all I could think is “I hope I can be just HALF of the woman that she is.”

To this day, my mom always puts her children above her own needs – she does this almost to a fault.  Growing up my mom never tried to be our “best friend”, but she showed us an overabundance of love, compassion and let’s not forget…discipline when needed.  Somehow she knew exactly what we needed, how we needed it and how to follow through and in the end she has pretty awesome kids if I do say so myself.  Now I consider my mom one of my best friends, she is the first one I call whenever I have news to share or if I just need a listening ear I know she will be there to talk me through it.  I have nowhere touched the amount my mom has done for us, but I think you all understand how amazing this woman is – especially those of you that are lucky enough to know her.

So, Mom –  I don’t need a special day to tell you this but I’m sure I don’t do it enough: thank you for everything you have ever done, and still do, for me and the rest of us brats.  I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone like you, but I’m not going to question it!

Are tattoos still taboo? Really?

It has been nearly nine years since I have gone on a job interview, so to say the least I was a little nervous when I got an offer yesterday to come up and talk about a job opening later in the afternoon.   Several thoughts raced through my mind.  What if they don’t like me? What if I stick my foot in my mouth? How am I supposed to talk myself up without sounding too cocky?

Oh yeah, I better not forget about this thought:  what about my tattoos?

I thought surely my tattoos would not be an issue, but just in case I made sure to wear a long sleeved jacket to cover my wrists and used a band-aid to cover up the one on my palm.  You know, just in case.  This is 2014 after all…do people really consider tattoos taboo?

I’ll deviate from my point for a moment, just in case you were wondering how my interview went.  It went very well and she was extremely impressed with my skill-set. So, yeah, high five me!  Before I left, she asked if she could call my current manager.  If I got this job it would be an inter-company transfer so, yes of course, call my manager right away!  When I turned in my resignation, a part of me was sad that I would lose the last nine years I had spent with this company, building toward my retirement.  So when this opportunity came along to continue on with them, I felt joy!

Now back to the story: it’s been 24 hours since the interview and I just received a call from my manger; the call is what sparked this post.  He said he spoke with the woman I interviewed with and he went on to confirm everything that I thought yesterday: the interview went great and the hiring manager really like me and was super impressed. High five again! What? Too much? Ok, I’ll stop with the high fiving. Then, toward the end of our conversation he made a comment that made me want to, well, throw up the lunch I had just consumed.

“you might want to consider wearing sleeves.”

What? Did I really just hear that?  I would need to wear sleeves?  To make sure I was understanding him correctly, I took a second then asked if this was about my tattoos, he laughed and said it was.  He went on to explain: the boss of the woman that interviewed me is very old fashioned, wants everyone in a suit (um, ok) and he is not supportive of tattoos or anything of the sort.  There goes the nose ring idea I had…

So, now I come to my dilemma. If I am offered the job, which it sounds like I will be, then I will have to make sure my tattoos are covered so not to upset the big man on campus.  My tattoos are a part of who I am.  Do I give up a part of me, just to continue my tenure with the company? Do I really want to be in an office with such judgmental people?  I lost count around my 12th tattoo, but I know I’m not done yet, not by a long shot.  My tattoos are my story, my passion.  There are enough judgmental people in this world, that I don’t think I should let this type of negativity into my life.  When will people stop the madness and just accept others for who they are?

Surprise! If you’re skinny – you aren’t a real woman! Wait…what?

The following is a post I wrote a while back, another one of my sleepy turned coffee inspired “rants”.  It never got further than my Facebook status, so I decided I”ll add it here.  Don’t be frightened by the title of this article: not all of my future posts are all going to be pro-woman, but I am pro-human…so it all ties together, right?  If this isn’t the type of article you prefer, then move on – or take a minute to read, you might be surprised.

A while back Dove started a “real beauty campaign“, which I have to say was, and IS, a brilliant idea!  However, like with all great ideas, there is a downside as well.  The campaign started with photos of women without makeup on, and also they claimed they were not ‘photoshopping’ any of the pictures. Great! Finally advertising done right! However, shortly after this campaign began, the internet because flooded with photos of skinny women vs not so skinny women.  So, where’s the problem with that? Well, these photos were claiming that the skinny women are not real women, and you are only a real woman if you have curves.

As a woman of curves (more than my fair share, but shhhh that’s a secret), am I supposed to be inspired by these quotes? Is it supposed to make me shout and yell “rah-rah! real women have curves!!“?  Because I’m not inspired. I’m not going to shout that from the top of a mountain. As a matter of fact:

I’m offended.

Since when does a woman’s body type determine if she is “real” or not? I am by no means lacking in the curve department, as I mentioned above, and I’m glad to see more media acceptance being shown for women that aren’t “model skinny”, BUT saying a woman isn’t real just because she doesn’t have an hour glass shape, full perky boobs, or a big round butt, is just as horrible as poking fun at someone because they are too fat, too ugly, too boring, too tall, too short, too poor…you get the point. My body is neither superior nor inferior to anyone else’s and it definitely DOES NOT define me.

My point here ties back to the first article I wrote (click here to check it out).  How are we to expect the girls of this  generation, and future generations, to grow into confident, strong, caring women if we keep encouraging the idea that a woman is only real because of her body type? Or that a man will only love/like her if she looks a certain way? There is already pressure from society for women to be perfect, so why not encourage each other instead of judging outward appearances? Come to think of it, I have to say this goes for men as well. What makes a person, man or woman, real is : their heart, attitude, personality, choices, and even their confidence (and even lack thereof!). So, as I step down off my soapbox yet again, I will say this in conclusion: girls – put on some clothes, have respect for yourselves and prove yourself through your actions not your body. And, no, I will not “like” or “share” those silly pictures that say “only real women have curves”.

Raising strong women: he’s mean to you…because he’s mean

There has been a quote floating around Facebook lately that says: “Here’s to strong women. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.” My opinion is the focus of that quote should be on the last sentence “may we raise them” – if you raise a strong woman, then the rest will fall into place…most of the time, at least. Hopefully. The same goes for boys and men as well, but that’s a different topic for a different day.

My thoughts this morning aren’t necessarily about raising strong women, or being one (don’t shoot…but feminism really isn’t my cup of tea) but that quote got me thinking and then, more importantly, it got me worried. How many times have you heard the phrase “oh, he only is mean to you because he likes you” said to young girls whenever a male playmate/classmate is mean to her? Or heard that phrase directly said to you? There is so much wrong in that one sentence that I am having a hard time figuring out where to start.  Should that be part of raising a strong woman?

Associating hostility, anger, or violent behavior with a love should never be acceptable and should never be taught to young girls, even when it’s just little Johnny on the playground pulling Suzy’s hair or him telling her she is ugly. Being in love or feeling love toward another person is the most beautiful, joyous experience and hatred should not be included in the equation. So why are young girls taught whenever a boy is mean to you, it means he likes you? Now, obviously young children aren’t in love but one day they will experience it and they should know it does not involve someone being mean to you. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying that every girl is going to grow up and think she should be hit or talked down to, just because she was told that it means she is liked or loved, but I’m saying to stop the cycle at a young age: teach your girls to only accept the best, and teach them what it means to be truly loved.

Now, we come to the age old question:

Why do nice guys finish last?

My answer would be because young girls are subliminally taught (through subject quote) to go after the quote-unquote bad boys, because they are the ones that will show you they truly love you…but NO! Do not be mislead, it’s not true! Love should not be about fighting, cheating, holding grudges, or trying to one-up one another. If you fight all the time, there is obviously something wrong. A man should only make you cry tears of happiness (pssst ladies, don’t make your man cry either!). And, again, don’t get me wrong…just because you fight doesn’t mean you don’t actually love that person but it means there is a deep seeded issue that needs to be resolved, and keep in mind: loving someone is not the same as being in love with them. If you continue to fight all the time, maybe you need to realize your worth and move on. It’s sad to say, and a hard truth to learn, but sometime love just isn’t enough.

I may have put all my focus on young girls, but guys, you know this all goes for you as well! I guess I’ll get off my soapbox, as I finish with this: BE A PART OF THE SOLUTION.

What are YOUR thoughts?