So You’re Crying A Lot, Feel Like You’re Losing Your Shit & Sweating Like a Construction Worker? Oh Snap. It’s Menopause.

menopause_illustration_libertyantoniasadler_metro
Illustration by Liberty Antonia Sadler

I’m in menopause. Full blown menopause. I’m 44 so it’s early onset from a prior medical incident following emergency surgery for Endometriosis. Endometriosis is a disease that not a lot of people know about or understand but lemme tell you, it affects A LOT of women. Roughly 10-20% of women in North America suffer from Endometriosis which affects everything menstrual cycles, mood swings, pain. So much pain. You see get these cysts that develop from hormone levels; environmental things like the foods we eat, or the chemicals we are exposed to as fetuses and young developing women. These cysts over time multiply and multiply. They sometimes rupture which, depending on the size and location of the cyst can result in not only toxic material flowing in to your body which can cause sepsis. It can result in many emergency room visits, and Ladies, don’t you dare think this isn’t ambulance worthy- it is. It will be the most excruciating thing you will ever experience next to childbirth. Truth, and I don’t have children, but fuck me- that looks mighty painful. These cysts then go on to form colonies of cysts that can fuse your organs together. My ENTIRE endocrine system is fused in these cysts. That means my ovaries, well I only had one partially working one anyway, my bladder, bowel and uterus are fused. I was unable to carry children. I got pregnant once and I had miscarriage. After an emergency surgery, as my body was in sepsis I was placed on a drug called Lupron which medically induced menopause. After that, I was prescribed Depo Provera for 6 months before getting the Mirena IUD which completely stopped my periods for 7 years. I started experiencing the premenopausal symptoms around age 39 then full blown Menopause this year. It’s been well over a year and a half since my last period.

I don’t have anyone to talk about this with. I mean, you don’t talk about menopause, it’s something old ladies get. Right? So we often suffer in silence with all these symptoms because, it’s embarassing. Why? I’m not sure. I don’t have a mom or a step mom to talk to, and I seem to be the first one of my friends going through this, that I know of anyway. While I am recovering from pneumonia (I’m so hopped up on meds and this relentless cough) I decided to write a blog post about this.

First thing you need to understand ladies: You’re NOT GOING CRAZY. It’s a fact of life and the end of a natural cycle in a woman’s life. Some of us will have it sooner than later, some of us will have it harder than others. It’s not gross. Periods were gross. I won’t get in to the gory details, men can’t handle this talk, and it’s my hope a few men will read this so they can understand their partners a little better.

Your hormones are battling it out for sheer dominance at every given moment of the day. Your emotions will become hijacked, your mind will race with thoughts of anger, frustration, sadness, hunger, remorse, guilt, fatigue. This can take place over the course of an hour. It’s kind of like developing Borderline Personality Disorder.

My food tastes have changed dramatically. I don’t crave the sugar and the salt like I once did. Because of other health issues, immune system disorders, CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) Fibromyalgia & Osteoarthritis) I eat a fairly clean diet. I reduced my animal proteins and increased plant proteins, I avoid gluten and dairy as much as I can. I eat as organic as I can, I don’t consume alcohol* so this combined with fairly regular low impact exercise I have kept my weight down but it’s not uncommon that women gain weight during this time.

The Crying. Oh God, the crying. Unless you’re a stern, or staunch woman, you will experience bouts of tears that appear out of nowhere. You will cry from anything ranging to past memories, to things you are grateful for. My friend bought me a book that I wanted – BOOM- crying. Someone letting you cut in a line when you’re in a hurry- BOOM- crying. An elderly person wins the big prize on The Price is Right- BOOM-crying. So help you God if they win BOTH showcases! It’s an emotional roller coaster. I recommend maybe a COSTCO membership just to save on Kleenex and chocolate.

WHY AM I ON FIRE? Is this what spontaneous human combustion feels like? I think this is what spontaneous human combustion feels like. I NEED TO GET THIS BLOODY SHIRT OFF!!!! All that needed to be bolded because this is how it will go through your mind when a hot flash kicks in. BUY HANDHELD FANS IN BULK. Those bitches break. Mine just broke this past week and I tell you what.. scream .. I need that fucking thing and they are APPARENTLY fucking seasonal so you can’t find one goddamn hand held and/or power fan in this Godless city. Sorry for the cursing. THAT’S gonna happen a lot more too. Thanks to the rage of a hundred angry, hungry, fighting dogs that has now set up pit in your head, frequent shows, all access, anyone can view for free! Be sure to include children because Lord are they little shits now. It’s not their fault. I blame the internet and handheld devices. It’s commercialism’s fault. They’ve fried your brain a bit as a parent and as developing youth because…. what’s on Facebook/Pinterest/ Twitter/YouTube/Netflix……?” It’s not your fault, society has changed us for the worse. We’re all just slightly bigger dicks for it.

Hot flashes will begin in your chest area and sweep up your neck and face until, unless you have a fan, you will literally pour water from your body. You’ll sweat more. It’s gross. I can’t often wear make up because of it. What’s the point without a fan your make up is no match for a hot flash. Oooh! Cosmetic companies: Create makeup for hot flash women. Wait, it would probably include some carcinogen and cause cancer. Fuck. Scrap that. Wear light layers and go with my bulk handheld fan recommendation. Get a small power fan and keep one next to where you sit in the daytime, in the evening time, and next to your bed. Drink LOTS of water. If you don’t you’ll get A LOT of headaches. It’s because of the hot flashes and all the sweating. A good way to tell if you’re dehydrated is the color of your pee. The darker it is, the more water you should pound. It should increasingly get lighter then clear. If it doesn’t, you may have an infection. (bladder, urinary tract, kidney) Go see a doctor for God sake what’s wrong with you?

There are some natural things out there you can take in supplement form you can find at any pharmacy or nutrition store. Black Cohosh, flax seed, Calcium, Vitamin D, Wild Yam, Ginseng, DHEA, Dong Quai, Soy (if you’re not allergic of course) Currently I have no access to these right now so I’m going on nothing.

You’ll want to keep a towel nearby to cover up the sopping wet mess you will constantly leave on your sheets and pillow cases. Trust me, lay that towel down on the wet spot and go to sleep because Girl, you’re tired and you a’int got time to wash sheets in the middle of the damn night what are you doing?? You’re just gonna be in the same boat tomorrow. But you will need to frequent up your sheet changing regime. Keep a change of clothes nearby and change them if you are wet, I think this could be why I got pneumonia.

It’s like going through puberty all over again I’ve noticed my anxiety has kicked up several notches. You’ll probably experience bouts of insomnia simply because you can’t shut your brain off. I also went through some adult acne. I think my voice is even deeper than it was. Keep to a healthy diet and exercise the way you want to, it can help and it’s just common sense. You may get some unexpected unflattering hair growth as well. Tweezers and good depilatory creams will become a must.

Your chances of having a child, or another child is done now. You may need to process this. Cry it out, that is how you process things. You have to allow yourself to feel things in order to move past it. This is true with any traumatic event we encounter. Think about it, cry about it, pray about it, have some inner dialogue about it, eat some dairy free ice cream and you’ll probably move on and feel better.

Your sex drive will probably decrease Our bodies use sex to procreate mainly so once the need to procreate ends you will probably feel the urge a little less. You may have to put in a little more effort with your partner during this time. That effort would include finding things to stimulate your desires, discussing things with them so they don’t think it’s them, which can leave them feeling a little neglected. We should always show love to our partners- when they deserve it. Those assholes.

You should experience some emotional growth as well as some confidence during this time With maturity comes an understanding that shit just is what it is. You can’t control or change everything. You are not Superwoman. You are not a unique snowflake. You don’t have to have the body of a 25 year old because, Surprise Bitch! You’re NOT 25. I for example, am just a broad. Just a broad getting through day by day through the Grace of God.

It’s not all bad. It can be pretty freeing to not give a fuck anymore.

I really hope this post has prepared you a little bit. Maybe you’ll learn what to expect and can prepare. Share this with your lady friends, share this with partners. Because Menopause is a family event. It will affect your loved ones, your friends, your work, your energy levels and it IS a big deal because of all these things.. I often wonder, if men experienced menopause would there be paid leaves and loads of information out there for them. Possibly a national holiday in honor of it. National Men’s Awareness Month. They can have March, no one likes March. Look how much research has gone into extending erections.

Why can’t we just talk about it?

*update: (June 2019) I have begun drinking again. Because fuck menopause, and a little alcohol seems to help with the hot flashes.

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

And take care of yourself.

Sam

The Blog Broad
This ol’ Broad..

Images

Menopause Your Personal Sauna https://metro.co.uk/2015/08/25/21-things-you-never-knew-about-the-menopause-5341203/

Profile picture taken by me.

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If Creativity is a Drug, it’s Probably Like Crystal Meth…

no healthier drug than creativityMy friend shared this on Facebook today.  I couldn’t agree more.  That being said, if creativity is a drug, it’s probably most like crystal meth.  I mean, I’ve never tried crystal meth (never would) but I watch A&E’s Intervention and have seen the movie Spun a couple of times.

Creativity is probably one of my favorite drugs, next to cannabis and antihistamines.  (I do love to breath out of both nose holes). When I get on a creative roll, whether it be with art or crafts or writing, I am virtually unreachable.   I didn’t hear what you just said because I’m editing my next piece in my head while you’re talking.  I find it difficult to sit still.  I’m constantly reaching for my notepad to jot down ideas and funny observances hoping to insert it later in a witty blog post.  When I can’t look at the screen anymore because my eyes are going crossed and my head hurts, I pick up my knitting or one of my coloring books.  Because, I must always be creating something.

Take right now for example.  It’s 4:10 am.  “C” is snoring away, rattling the windows, sawing enough wood to build a small village.  I am here.  Listening to my favorite YouTube narrator weaving his creepy Reddit tales that normally send me off to sleep; instead, I’m laying wide awake thinking about the things I want to write.

Most recently, my friend, that I write a cannabis blog for, approached me about putting together a radio show.  My friend owns her own business in the cannabis industry and literally has her hands in everything.  She used to sell mortgages, is a Registered Massage Therapist, an Activist, puts together Expos and festivals, has a bunch of dogs, helps the poor, and most recently, she’s sponsoring an internet radio station in addition to the blog.  I joke, but she’s a keen business woman.  I have been talking about doing a podcast with my fiancee for a while so the opportunity (kick in the pants) finally arrived.

C” recently lost her job.  She works in radio.  Terrestrial radio.  She was the co-host of a popular morning show in our city, and, as often happens in radio, her job was terminated.  It has been stressful.  We are looking at moving provinces again so we have to slowly pack up our lives from the last two and a half years while she searches for new employment.  We almost had it solved with a job back home in Halifax, Nova Scotia, but that deal fell through so we ended up cancelling that move.

Superman and KryptoniteStress is like the kryptonite of my creativity.  It blocks it.  This is part of the reason why I have been absent from my blog more than I’d like.  I’m also still dealing with the pain of a slowly healing broken wrist and hand, but stress has been the hardest.  It’s like withdrawing from opiates.  My flowing creativity is like heroin and after going balls out for four months, I have finally run out.

For close to a month, I couldn’t think of anything to write and it drove me nuts.  My appetite went down, I couldn’t sleep.  All I did was watch Netflix and knit.  I knitted like never before.  I knitted 5 things.  5 of the same things.

Just when I thought I was doomed to just sit through all the turds on Netflix.  “I may as well watch Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency.  I don’t have anything else going on.”  And for the record, that, Ladies and Gentlemen, IS a turd of a show.   My buddy approached me about the radio show.

Little does she know, she basically just handed me a big ol’ 8 Ball and left me to my own devices.  I’ve been partying hard on creativity the past few days prepping our first show.  Who didn’t play Radio DJ as a kid?  I had many cassette tapes filled with mine and my friends’ pre-pubescent voices introducing our favorite songs and making up commercials on the fly.  I have more things to learn before we go live, mostly the technical aspect as well as editing and such but I’m a fast learner.

I am so excited and scared and nervous that SURPRISE!  I can’t sleep.

This helps.  Finally writing a blog post helps.  Now I should be able to climb back in to bed, even with “C” steadily honking away, pop my headphones in and sneak in an episode of The Sasquatch Chronicles podcast.  Don’t you dare judge me.  I have an inquiring mind and the stories are riveting.

Read one of my other posts, and be sure to subscribe via email and follow me on Twitter

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

Sam

Images

Kryptonite to Superman  https://kugelmass.wordpress.com/2013/05/29/why-does-kryptonite-hurt-superman/

 

 

 

 

 

The Price is… Too Much

Firstly, I apologize for my recent absence.  With the holidays and travelling and personal matters I cannot share at this time, and an officially broken wrist, I have been too distracted, tired or sore to go on social media.  I needed a break (pardon the pun).

Not much has been going on here but a few minor observances and a shit load of Netflix watching.  I’ve watched a few movies I enjoyed like I, Tonya, and the Disaster Artist.  I was pleased to see Franco take an award for that.  I blew through the Wormwood series in a day, I enjoyed the biographical movie All Eyez on Me about the iconic Tupac Shakur.  It’s been pretty quiet here.

Quiet.  That’s something I enjoy.  Peace and quiet.  I don’t like loud things, loud movies, loud shows, loud noises.  I’m an aficionado of documentary films and quiet quirky humor without the blatantly obnoxious laugh tracks.  I’m a big girl, I know when to laugh, thanks.  Even my musical tastes have changed.  When going for my MP3s to accompany house cleaning, I’m beginning to shy away from the loud raucous rock and metal that I used to listen to, opting for Radiohead, Wilco or, most recently, Diana Ross and the Supremes.  You can’t go wrong with Motown.

Cannabis brownieWhich brings me to the crux of my story.  Recently I acquired a medicinal brownie.  I’ve been pretty blunt and upfront about the fact that I have a permit/prescription to possess medical cannabis for chronic pain and PTSD.  So, I got this brownie..  Keep in mind I am very experienced, a veteran of cannabis if you will.  I have been using it for about a decade for pain, I have done my research, I know my strains and I know my doses.  I have never had a bad experience… Until now.

This brownie was about 3 inches long and maybe an inch wide.  I split it in half.  It’s a Saturday night so I offer the other half to my partner so she can relax.  Apparently this was not a 2 dose brownie.  I repeat, NOT a 2 dose brownie.  In actual fact, this was a four or 5 dose brownie.  So we unknowingly nibble at our brownies while enjoying a cup of coffee with a little Baileys in it.  Mistake number 2.  Do not mix said brownie with alcohol, even the wee bit of Baileys you dumped in your after dinner coffee.  I put on a recent episode of The Price is Right for shits and giggles.  We don’t have cable so occasionally I find game show episodes online for us to watch so we can feel like real people that have cable.  The Price is Right was mistake number 3.  It was at the second big wheel spin to see who the showcase showdown opponent was going to be when the brownie took hold.  

Holy fuck.

Too much
Too much The Blog BroadThere were flashing lights, bells ringing, thunderous applause, ” It’s a brand new car!!!” , people screaming and molesting Drew, saying hello to every fucking person they knew, people losing their shit screaming down aisles flailing their arms, people pushing past stunned models to grab at their haul of prizes, people screaming random numbers at shocked contestants, weird T shirts begging to Drew to love them, flashy costumes, honking horns, that yodelling Swiss guy, then it’s topped off with guilt about the unneutered pet population.

How do people watch this?

How the fuck does Drew Carey sleep at night?  No wonder he’s lost weight, poor bastard probably has PTSD.  I sure hope they pay him well and he has a good benefits package.

How did Bob Barker do it all those years?  I mean that guy was old as shit when he retired. 

That show is like an overdose of Aderall with a hit of meth all in one 21 minute episode.  It was too much.  TOO MUCH.

This brownie was too much.  TOO MUCH.

All we could do was go lay on our bare bed, (I had the brilliant idea of washing the bedding pre-brownie).  We had been over stimulated.  We grabbed the comforter and threw it over us like a protective fort.  Looking at each other under our fort all we could do, was repeat “Too much.  Too much.  Too much.”  

The lights were too much, music was too much, smells were too much, touch was too much, The Price is Right  was TOO MUCH.

I vomited a couple of times and crawled back into the fort with “C”.  We fell asleep.  I eventually woke up and finished the laundry but “C” was out for the night.  Lesson learned.  Well played meth brownie, well played.

It did get me thinking about how The Price is Right kind of mirrors American society.  

Play the game, win prizes!

The more shit, the better!

LOUD LOUD LOUD!!  with some screaming for good measure

It’s all about advertising, but throw in some literal bells and whistles and flashing lights and no one’s the wiser!

I want it all now now now

Who cares about the fine print, like duties and taxes that need to be paid, a lot of people don’t even take their prizes because it costs too much.  Nothing is truly free but it looks like it is and that’s all that matters


Yay!! America! 

yeesh… 

Too much. 


Live Humbly, Start Small, Live Cautiously,

Sam


Images

Hank Hill/ too high  http://media.ifunny.com/results/2014/02/06/yqeg15gwyf.jpg

Price is Right gif  https://uproxx.files.wordpress.com/2014/10/tpir.gif?w=650

Brownie/Selfie are my own.

My Addiction: A Sweet Tale

addicted to sugarWe’re an indulgent society aren’t we?  We binge eat, binge drink, binge watch ourselves in to addiction, obesity, diabetes, loneliness and isolation.  When it comes to indulgence, we don’t do anything half-assed.  We save the sloppy for the big things, the things that really matter.  Things like personal relationships, jobs/careers and responsibilities will often get thrown by the wayside to make room for some of our dark indulgences..

I’m going to tell you about one of mine… 

My kryptonite…

A few years back… wait… it’s been a decade.  Where does the time go?  Anyway, a decade ago, my aunt gave me 2 dozen homemade shortbread cookies.  It was Christmas, and she knew they were my favorite.  Christmas Eve I found my self watching the old 1951 black and white A Christmas Carol starring Alastair Sim, alone, an annual tradition of mine- when I realize I’ve eaten all 2 dozen cookies.  I had purchased some shortbreads from the store earlier not realizing I would get these homemade ones, so I found those and I ate them too.

This was not, and wouldn’t be my last rodeo battling shortbread addiction. 

Shortbread Cookies

Years prior, I visited my mother in Ontario for the holidays.  In anticipation of my arrival, she baked 4 dozen shortbread cookies.  I ate them all.  Myself.  True story.  I couldn’t shit for a week.  Since the counter on which they enticingly sat was a mere foot step and a hop away from the bathroom door, I would grab one or 2 on my way.  Each time I passed that alluring plate, I would grab 1 or 2.  I would wake up in the morning with ghost crumbs on my face and pillow without recollection of having eaten cookies.

This remains a battle to this day.  Every holiday season I simply MUST have shortbread cookies.  I’ve seen myself counting coins out at home only to rush to the store to buy the in-store baked shortbreads.  They’re not as good.  Must be missing the love.  They’re made with minimum wage resentment instead of love.  Not the same at all. 

My lust for the sweets doesn’t end there.  It also extends to cakes, pies, loaves, donuts, flaky pastries, cupcakes and squares.  (I like to eat)

mmmmmm... donuts...
mmmmm… donuts…

I’ve baked and iced chocolate cakes only to eat the entire thing myself in 2 days.

My inner “Sweets Whore” has no personal time clock.  She will covet a slice of that chocolate cake your sister in law made at 3 am.  She doesn’t care if everyone’s asleep.  She will make you eat cheesecake in your underwear over the sink at midnight like some kind of sugar fiending Gollum.  No shame.

Must have the precious - Gollum

In recent years, I have been diagnosed with a wheat/gluten intolerance.  Now when I eat baked goods I inflame.  I swell in my hands, eyes, feet and legs.  I get eczema patches and rashes all over my body and face, particularly my eyes.  I get furiously tired, unfocused and scatterbrained.

Well played God.  Well played.

I think you’ve had enough cookies my child.

What about pie?

No.

It’s going to be challenging going home this year for Christmas.  There’s always delicious food and homemade things everywhere.  I have to stay away because I can’t take the consequences anymore.  It’s hard to really enjoy that cake when you know that the next day, you’re going to fully understand why dogs bum scoot on carpets..  Yeah… that’s a symptom of wheat allergy/gluten intolerance.

I must stay strong.  I can do this.

Are you addicted to sweets?

Do you have a wheat allergy or gluten intolerance?

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

Sam

 

 

Images

Gollum  https://hotwhitesnow.wordpress.com/2016/04/05/my-precious/

Addcted to sugar  https://goqii.com/blog/are-you-craving-for-sugar/

Woman looking at donuts  https://www.rodalewellness.com/weight-loss/4-reasons-youre-addicted-to-sweets

Shortbread cookies  http://www.cbc.ca/food/recipes/recipe-shortbread-cookies

 

 

 

Substitute Gifts and Crying 8 Year Olds

My parents (now divorced) were not wealthy by any means.  I grew up in a trailer on a plot of land owned by my father’s side of the family.  My father, an auto mechanic, earned a less than modest wage and my mother was a homemaker and stay at home Mom.  I know now that she suffered from anxiety and crippling depression, but back then I just remember her reading a lot of books.  Come Christmas time, the books would be set aside for holiday baking and decorating and the wrapping of the gifts.

I wasn’t much of a snooper because I enjoyed the surprise.  I’ve always been a lousy liar so trying to feign surprise or gratitude was beyond my kid skills.  Honesty is the best policy, an adage I still believe in.

Another reason acting surprised was a challenge was because my parents… well, my mother, I mean let’s be honest, my father NEVER shops for other people.  He gets everyone around him to shop for him so he never has to set foot in a store OR you just get some crumpled twenties in a card.  My mother was solely responsible for making my Christmas a success.  The only problems were that a) She had extreme anxiety and HATED shopping or going out in public in general and b) She only had the money my father gave her to buy my presents.

Crack whore BarbieI first learned my mother was a Substitute gifter when I asked for my first real Barbie at age 5.  All I had were those flimsy soft plastic dolls that kind of resembled Barbies but clearly weren’t.  They were like Barbie’s ugly cousin from the valley.  Remember those?  Somebody would squeeze a leg and that was it, the leg would stay that way like some kind of deflated sucked in, fucked up amputee.  I never had a Ken doll either.   My parents seemed to think that Ken would be anatomically correct and that was something I didn’t need to see.  a) I’m gay.  That would NOT have been a problem. b) Most people realize that Barbie and Ken dolls do not have genitalia.  They just have bumps and lines where genitalia should be.  I had a Tony Doll.  Tony’s whole body was made of that crappy collapsible plastic that the valley whore “Barbies” are made from.  My cousin used to squeeze his head until it flattened out and stayed that way.  Eventually, Tony came apart at the waist so Barbies would fight over who would date Torso Tony, complete with head, and who would date Legs Tony ultimately making him 2 separate entities.  Fuck Tony.

Then I wanted the Barbie camper.  Boy for a lesbian, you sure liked Barbies.  Yes.  Yes I did.  I made up Soap Opera like stories that sometimes played out for days just like in my mom’s Soaps.  One Barbie would be gay, another would kill herself over a lost child or ruined career.  Tony would come apart and love 2 women at the same time.  I was a little dramatic, and again, I watched my mother’s Soaps a little too frequently.

Barbie Camper 70s

When Christmas arrived that year I was beyond stoked!  Oh man I wanted that camper complete with tiny barbecue and little steaks and a picnic table and chairs and a shower inside..  It was SOOO COOOOL.  It was all I talked about for months.  Christmas day came, I opened the very last present with all my hopes tied in that bow I carefully (my mother reused the bows) removed and placed aside.  The box didn’t seem big enough though.  Maybe it has to be put together I wishfully thought to myself secretly praying.  Here it comes….  It was a horse.  The Barbie horse.  Not the cool Palomino with the jointed legs either.  Just like, a plastic horse statue of sorts .. I did not ask for this horse.  Why Mom?  That year, my cousin got the Barbie camper.  I cried in my bedroom when I got home from visiting her.

The next painful lesson I learned was when I asked for the Lego Space set.  I’ve always been in to space, astronomy, Star Trek and Lego so the Space Set looked like it was for me and the commercials were awesome!  I planted my seeds and eagerly awaited the 25th.

80s Lego Space Set

Unwrapping all my gifts, I saw no Lego set.  There was one more.  A huge heavy box.  Oh Snap!  This must be it.  Tearing back the paper… I saw…  horses.  More fucking horses!  It was a Loc Blocs Medieval Castle.  Jesus, they didn’t even get the time frame right!  Going back in to history when I wanted to go where no woman has gone before.  I couldn’t hide my disdain.  “But.. this isn’t Lego Space at all..”  My mother assured me that this had way more pieces and would be more fun.  “Look, it has a drawbridge“, she persisted.  I didn’t care about the drawbridge, the smug little faces on the Loc Blocs knights’ stupid faces.  I wanted to build a damn space ship.

I came home the first day back to school after Christmas vacation to find my Loc Blocs castle fully assembled, working drawbridge and all, and my parents tipsy.  To this day, I’m not crazy about horses.

Do you give your kids substitute gifts?  Don’t you love your kids?  Why would you do that to them?  Did you get substitutes as a kid?  #KidsRemember

 

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

Sam

 

Images

Barbie Camper  http://mumsgrapevine.com.au/2014/01/20-perfect-nostalgic-toys_80s-toys_90s-toys/

Crack whore Barbie-ish  https://www.pinterest.ca/terribunz/barbie-bashin/?lp=true

Lego Space  http://www.sega-16.com/forum/showthread.php?8236-LEGO-Classic-Space-(1980s)-Does-anyone-remember-this-specific-LEGO-piece

Find Your Niche They Said, It’ll be Good They Said

Blogging image
I’ve been blogging for 5 years now.  This is actually my fifth blog.  I wrote under a pseudonym for the first 4 years (Sparky Lee Anderson);  I also wrote a blog called The Canine Companion that was about dog health and training.  I then ventured off in to Blogger to create a blog about living with ME/CFS called My Life in Fog Goggles and I begun an additional blog called My Whovian Take solely about Doctor Who.  I guess you can say I was trying to find my niche.

Finding my niche has been my greatest struggle.  I see so many women doing Travel, Beauty and Lifestyle blogs and that’s just not me.  I mean, I wear make up sometimes, but I’m poor so frugality is a big thing in my life.  I know nothing about new make up trends, Sephora, or $100 serums.  I’m here in my closet sized bathroom slathering St. Ives and Clean & Clear on my aging, acne prone face.  I still use baby powder after my showers and I buy whatever lotion happens to be on sale that week.  I don’t even buy women’s razors.  I refuse to spend more money for a pink handle.  Fuck that noise.  So as you can see, a Beauty blogger I am not.

I don’t think anyone is interested in my travels seeing how as I mainly only travel from the bed to the couch to the bathroom, with periodic jaunts outside in my Pajama pants to take my dog out for her pees.  Every so often I walk up to the corner store for a Diet Coke.  Sure, it’s all first class travel; because I said so, I’m wearing my good Chucks, my dog is dressed in her finest jacket and I’m drinking a whole can of Diet Coke, not half a can in a plastic cup with airplane ice cubes in it.  I also insist on carrying hot towels with me at all times and a sleeping mask should the mood catch me.  If I wrote a book about Travel it would be called, “I don’t have to put a bra on do I?”.  I’d probably only sell a few copies to other women who hate bras.  It wouldn’t be a fruitful venture.

That brings us to Lifestyle.  Well, if your lifestyle includes things like eating peanut butter with a spoon out of the jar at 1 am over the kitchen sink, or house cleaning in your underwear, maybe I’m on to something.  I could write about the dinner parties I throw.  Ok so it’s not so much as a dinner party as it is Supper for two people.  I could write about my Clubbing adventures.  Sure, it was the nineties and we danced to C&C Music Factory while downing $1 watered down beverages and I haven’t stepped foot in to a club since Clinton was in office but hey.  Maybe I could write about things like Home Decor.  I can do amazing things with TARDISs and old movie posters.  Do you like Christmas lights year round?  Functional furniture that doesn’t match?  Let me be your Ghetto Martha Stewart.  I can show you how to fold take out napkins into little squares that fit discreetly in your purse in case you ever need to pee roadside.  I can offer you a hundred ways to use Baking Soda.  I can reveal secrets like; Did you know you can do laundry at least once or twice without soap thanks to the soap residue and build up in your washing machine?  No?  You’re welcome.  I just saved you $3.  Perhaps I’m on to something.

I don’t know if I will ever fit in to a niche any more than I fit in to my skinny jeans.  I’ve always been kind of an outside the box kinda broad. 

Are you a niche blogger or do you have a theme you tend to write about?  Share your links below, I’d love to learn more.

Are you one of these people that put eyelashes on your car’s headlights?  If so, please remove them, they look ridiculous.  This statement really has nothing to do with this post, but I just saw one drive by and had to voice my opinion.

Please check out one of my top posts like this one and don’t forget to subscribe to my mailing list and follow me on Twitter @LezGeek

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously, Shag it,

Sam

Image courtesy of Pixabay

Welcome to the Circus That is my Mind

I have a racing, wandering, rambling mind.  I always have.  It has at times, distracted me from doing schoolwork, doing actual work, carrying on conversations, running errands, reading books, completing my house work, having sex and most certainly- sleeping.

The best way I can relate how it feels would be to equate to having a job to do at an office.  You have to get those reports in by 5 and it’s already 3 pm.  You’re just able to focus when the phone rings, and it’s an important client.  Then, Susan from accounting stops by to review numbers.  Two minutes later, your co worker has a melt down at your desk.  You’re trying to finish this damn report but Dan from sales is re-enacting a scene from Breaking Bad while standing directly behind your chair.  Your boss pops by every 15 minutes to track your progress.  While this is going on, there’s a visiting travelling Circus in your office complete with a petting zoo, trapeze artists, tumbling clowns,  Firedancers, sword swallowers, helium filled balloons, and that traditional circus music blaring from all four corners of your office.

Each random thought that pops in to my head is like a different act in that circus.

The Circus of my Mind
Basically… My brain
The tumbling clowns are all the funny things I have seen or heard that replay back in my head.  This act is reserved for things like old Seinfeld episodes, my favorite Saturday Night Live sketches, and Family Guy gags.  It also includes funny things my partner or friends have said, and contains the time my cat got a bag stuck on his head and he peed the entire length of the hallway, running, while the bag flapped behind him like an unfortunate parachute.

Then there’s the Trapeze act.  These are things I think I should be doing but am still only in the thinking stage, not the acting stage.  I’m afraid of heights.  I’m afraid of people.  I’m afraid of foods past the expiration date.  I’m afraid of a lot of things.

The petting zoo consists of all the animals I want to pet.  Baby goats, poofy dogs, fluffy kitties, that arrogant dog down the street that won’t let me pet him, rabbits, hedgehogs, squirrels and pigeons.

Subdermal Implants
Why? Would you do this??
Then there’s the sword swallower.  These are all things that make me go Yeesh while shaking my head wondering why anyone would want to do such a thing.  This includes but is not limited to; subdermal implants, RFID chips, eye tattoos, collagen fillers, Trump supporters, racism, random acts of violence, the Kardashians and general crime/politics.

The fortune teller encompasses all the things that perplex me.  Things I am curious about.  Things that have led to me being labelled a Conspiracy Theorist in the past.  They say Conspiracy Theorist, I say truth seeker or just curious is a more accurate depiction.  I mean, I’m not one of those people that think the world is flat but I do question things like possible false flag attacks, fake news and what the government tells us.  I questioned the whole 911 narrative, the JFK assassination, the moon landing, whether aliens are A) real B) here C) demons D) the original inhabitants of this planet and maybe WE are the aliens.

Aliens or Demons?
WTF ARE they??
The Freak Show are aspects of myself that I try to hide.  My insecurities.  My quirks.  My obsessive compulsive behaviors.  This is where I clip and examine my toenails and remove my blackheads.  This is where I listen to and sing along loudly to the formidable Kelly Clarkson.  This is also where I borrow that voice I talk to my dog in.

The tiger and elephant parade reminds me of things I can appreciate and value but not touch.  The beauty of the sun gleaming across the Atlantic ocean, my gratitude for some of the wonderful people present in my life or my lover’s laugh and smile.  This is where I store the way I feel when she puts her arm around me in the middle of the night until I drift off to sleep.  My dog’s face is there too.  The face she makes when I hold her and rub her head, the face she makes when she’s running through the grass.  These are the precious things.

The Firedancer envelopes all the things that frighten me.  Impending war, losing my love- my partner, running out of money and food, the future, whether being gay will lead me to the fiery pits of hell.  Will I get fat again? (even though I’ve kept it off for a decade) Will the world just get worse?  Just how dumb are people going to get??

helium filled balloons
All my shitty ideas
The helium filled balloons represents each idea I have had that has either popped, backfired or I never got around to.  The big red balloon just out of my reach?  That’s my book.  The blue one that’s floating up up up to the ceiling?  That was my art business.  That annoying yellow balloon that keeps bopping me in the face despite me trying to swat it away?  That was when I moved to Newfoundland for a fresh start and lost all my belongings.  Everything I owned.  The little ones floating away?  Those are my exes.  Quick!  Give me a pin!

The Ringleader or Ring Master, is God who tries to keep me on track.  He tries to organize my thoughts in to manageable compartments and keep me focused on the task at hand.  He tries to make me a better human.  He gives me warm peanuts and sticky cotton candy.  He gives me hope that the next act will be better…

Ringleader
The Ring Master

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

Sam

 

 

Images

Old Barnum & Bailey Poster  http://blog.tripbase.com/photo-essay-history-of-the-traveling-circus/

Subdermal implant  http://randomstory.org/bizarre-body-modifications-in-different-cultures/subdermal/

Three Grey Aliens  http://ipost.christianpost.com/post/aliens-extraterrestrials-are-really-demon-spirits

Floating balloons  http://balloonsdelivered.com.au/balloons/floating-balloons/

Ring Master  http://www.thedrawingclub.com/workshop/ringmaster-2010-theme-photo-and-artwork/

Just a Broad

The Blog Broad Blog

When did you start blogging/why?

I started blogging 5 years ago with the encouragement of friends, under a pen name- Sparky Lee Anderson.  I chose a pen name because if my blog was terrible I guess it would never be attached to my name and no one in my family and no one I went to school with would know I failed as a writer.  I came up with the name as I was “sparking” a doobie one night while watching X Files.  Having had a crush on Gillian Anderson who portrays Dana Scully since the show began, I went with Anderson.

I was published in 2014 in a Horror Anthology titled The Horror Addict’s Guide to Life.  I wrote a non-fiction piece titled, The Horror Addict’s Guide to Good Health.  I was proud of myself.  I worked hard at it and my submission was accepted and I would finally see my name in print.  Well, not exactly, my pen name was in print, and no one really cared that I got published.

Earlier this year I decided I wanted to change how I write.  Lose the pen name and write as myself.  I came up with a new blog title which I thought really encapsulated who I was as a writer.  Stephen King I am not (although he is and always will be my biggest idol.  Ever.  In the universe.).  I am however, just a broad (my Facebook profile states just that- Just a Broad) and I blog about a variety of topics; barring Beauty and Lifestyle – there are plenty of people that blog about that.  The Blog Broad was born.

But why don’t you blog about beauty or lifestyle?

I am broke.

I am 43

I have never left Canada

I”m a lesbian

I’m usually in sweatpants or jammies

I have bigger things to think about than the right shade of concealer or “maximum coverage” whatever that is.  Isn’t that just a bag over your head?  There.  There’s your maximum coverage.

*if you are reading this and you’re a beauty or lifestyle blogger, my apologies.  Your make up and/or trips look great and/or intriguing.  Thank you for reading.

 

So what do you write about?

Well, I write about what it’s like being in a lesbian relationship like in The Mysteries of the Lesbian Relationship Revealed  or in Things I Do That Drive My Partner Crazy .

I also write about my feelings for my narcissistic parents.  Like in I Can’t Throw it Away, These Things are Valuable to Some People

I get annoyed with technology a lot.  I write about that too, in I’m Drowning in Notifications I rant about having to be notified for everything you do online.  If you’re a subscriber for example, you were notified when I published this piece.

I write frequently about dealing with my many health issues, like PTSD, ME/CFS/Fibromyalgia, Depression, Anxiety and chronic pain.  Sometimes I write humorous posts because honestly, my humor is all I have left that’s still in tact.

I even write about weird things that happen to me.  Like in A Ghost Sat on Me, I write about some paranormal experiences I’ve had here in Saint John, New Brunswick Canada

I try to be encouraging, supportive and respectful to other bloggers.  There’s enough nastiness in the world and not enough kindness.

 

So, what’s the point of your blog?

It’s for me first of all.  It helps, flushing out your feelings on to the keyboard, sending it out in to cyberspace even if no one reads is cathartic and therapeutic.  I like to make people laugh and smile, so if I can do that to one person a day…   In addition, if there’s one more depressed lesbian out there suffering with PTSD and chronic pain well then, maybe this blog is for you and maybe we can exchange emails.

What is your endgame Sam?

Boy, I’m glad I asked.  Eventually, I would like to publish books.  Books I have written just to be clear.  Preferably non fiction, something humorous and relatable to others.  I’d like to publish a book of my poetry as well as a book of short stories.  This is my goal.

The act of blogging regularly helps enforce consistency and setting writing schedules prepares me for a career in writing which is what I want.  I’ve wanted it since I was 6 years old when I got my first typewriter.  I’m running out of time!

Tell me, why do you blog and what got you started?  Did you use a pen name?  What are your writing goals?

 

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

Sam

Bad Ideas

The Blog Broad is broke.  She’s slow, resistant and doesn’t seem to want to work.  Actually, I’m having a lot of pain.  The past two days I’ve had Painsomnia where the pain doesn’t let up long enough for you to be able to sleep.  I’ve caught a few winks in the late mornings/early afternoons but I’m dragging my ass a mile behind me.

My wrist is still healing  after badly spraining it.  I still have limited range of motion and blogging and texting is still quite painful but here I am because of FOMO (fear of missing out).  My love took care of most of the household chores while I recuperated.  Thank God for her, I don’t know what I’d do without her.

Over the weekend, we had passes for a rock show that was being sponsored by her work.  The problem was that the show didn’t really start until 10 pm.  Now, I’m 43 years old and 10 pm to me is usually, hair in a pony, jammies and face cream.  I haven’t gotten ready to go out that late in a long time.  I was already in pain from my body and wrist but I pushed through it for the show.

During the getting ready process, a couple of “C”‘s friends came over to have wine before the show.  So I said, “Sure, pour me a glass.”  Little did I realize, the wine our guests had brought was homemade and very potent.  Two glasses later I was inebriated.   I was woozy, spinny and all around barfy.  My partner was in even worse shape.  We snuck out before the show to grab a sandwich to help ease our ailing liquor bellies.  Two drunk broads in a Subway shoveling 6 inches down our gullets like we hadn’t eaten in a week, then stumbling out, giggling like teenagers on Prom night.  At that point it was almost 11 pm and normally, “C” is passed out by that time of night as her days begin at 4 am.  Even though we wanted to see the show, we ended up making our way awkwardly and drunkenly back home holding each other up as we made the seven hour journey by foot back home.  Ok, it was 15 minutes but it felt like seven hours.  We missed the show.

Bad Idea
(Not actually Us)

I was reminded of another time like this.  Back in 2008, I had tickets to go see one of my favorite bands of all time Queens of the Stone Age.  I was so excited for the show that I didn’t really eat much.  While I was getting ready I downed three Mojos.  Those were those Guarana Caffeine vodka drinks that went down like pop.  Before leaving I thought to myself, “Well this isn’t going to end up well at all.”  But I went anyway and hopped on the bus.  By the time we got to our friend’s house, I made a mad dash for the bathroom.  I don’t remember much after that.  Except waking up in my bed about five hours later realizing I missed the show.  I was devastated.  I am still devastated.  This was by no means a band like Queens but still.  Alcohol got me again.  When will I learn??

 

Can you still handle alcohol?  Have you ever missed something really important because of a bad idea?

 

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

(Drink Responsibly)

Sam

 

Image

Drunk Girls  http://metro.co.uk/2007/11/05/drunk-girls-proving-a-facebook-hit-474899/

Guilty Pleasures

Kraft Light Peanut Butter
The ONLY Peanut Butter

We all have our guilty pleasures.  Those weird little things that give us joy or instant gratification that we rarely talk about out of fear of being made fun of.  Well, fear be damned.  I’m coming clean.

On Being “Dirty”

One of my many guilty pleasures happens rarely.  I’m a clean freak.  Like personal hygiene- clean freak.  Even though I have ME/CFS and arthritis which sometimes means I am in too much pain to get a shower that day, I always push myself to do so even if it means I am lying on the tub floor while the shower beats off my sore body.  Every now and then though, I say Fuck it.  I’m not doing it today.  Then I proceed to remain filthy for the day.  Filthy to me anyway.  It’s not like I’m going out daily getting covered in tar and feathers, I rarely leave my house and I am more likely to be covered in peanut butter toast crumbs.  The part 2 of my filthy day involves just laying on the couch all day reading a good book with my dog laying on me.  No phone, no texts, no Facebook or Twitter notifications.  Just dirty me and a book.  Heavenly.

Not Giving a Fuck by Sarah Knight
Was a Good Read

British Television

TARDIS
The TARDIS

Most of my favorite TV shows are British.  My 2 absolute favorites being Doctor Who and Coronation Street.  I own EVERY Doctor Who episode from Classic to the 2010 Reboot/current series.  The only episodes I don’t own are the ones that were destroyed or lost by BBC.  54 years of the Doctor, his companions and their travels.  I have Doctor Who everything in my home.  Shirts, Bathroom accessories, including a TARDIS toothbrush holder, mugs, glasses, nightlight, calendars, Christmas Tree decorations including a Weeping Angel tree topper.  Daleks everywhere.  Let’s just say, when “C” and I first met, her first impression of me was Giant Nerd/Dork.  As for Coronation Street, I’ve been watching on and off since I was a child.  My grandfather watched it, and my mother watched it.  I’ve been a die-hard fan, never missing an episode for about a decade now.  I’ve read the giant book, “Four Decades of Life on the Street”, I have a pile of Corrie magazines, a Corrie Teapot, tea mug, keychain and even the limited edition Corrie Trivia Game that I have never played with anyone.  It’s predictable sure, everyone sleeps with everyone else’s spouses, someone is always evil and someone will get their “come uppance” soon.  I love it.  Other honorable mentions go to Downton Abbey, The Thick of It, The Catherine Tate Show, BlackAdder, Red Dwarf, Peep Show, (and anything Mitchell and Webb do), Sherlock, Black Mirror, and Absolutely Fabulous (anything Jennifer Saunders does really).  I just find British TV more satisfying than American programming.  The acting is better, the writing is better and it’s deeper.  I find American TV goes beyond what it needs to be, trying to impress with effects and set designs and large salaries but the scripts and writing are often too weak for me.  No.

Coronation Street Trivia Game
My Corrie Game

 

Coronation Street Four Decades of Life on the Street
My Corrie Bible

 

 

Doctor Who Bathroom
My TARDIS bathroom
Doctor Who Christmas Tree
My ‘Who Tree

On Peanut Butter & Snacks

Diet Coke
mmmm.. Refreshing..

I’m a peanut butter freak.  “C” always complains I don’t leave her any.  I put that shit on everything.  I even dip plain potato chips in it.  If I’m hungry, I grab a spoonful of peanut butter and the world seems right again.  I am also addicted to Diet Coke.  I know it’s bad for me with it’s aspartame and such but I just can’t give it up.  To me, there are few things more appealing than an ice cold can of Diet Coke in all it’s carbonated glory.  Delicious.  Satisfying.  Bad for you.  I cannot be trusted around baked goods either.  Despite my gluten intolerance and severe reactions:  if I see cake, I’m eating cake.  I am not above getting up in the middle of the night at my mother in law’s house and sneaking up to the kitchen oh so quietly to sample her baked wares.  She’s an excellent baker, and I can’t resist or control myself.  I usually end up going home swollen with skin issues and one partially closed eye, but… Cake.  Other guilty pleasure snacks include dark chocolate (preferably with peanut butter), potato chips in a rainbow of flavors and seeds and nuts.

On Music Preferences

The Carpenters
We’ve Only Just Begun..

My favorite band of all time is Metallica.  I have been a fan since I was 13 years old and have all their albums.  I listen to them almost daily.  Other favorites include Queens of the Stone Age, anything Jack White does, the Black Keys and 90s Grunge.   That being said, when I’m in a mood, I’m not above blasting Kelly Clarkson, Cher, Jill Barber, ABBA or old Carpenters tunes.  My favorite, feeling good song is Nina Simone’s I’m Feeling Good.  I also reluctantly, enjoy Kanye West‘s old music.  Jesus Walks is my all time favorite rap/hip hop tune.  I’m not versed in new music at all.  I kind of found a decade I liked and stuck with it.  I am not ashamed of knowing all the lyrics to old Linda Ronstadt songs either.

My Hobbies & Interests

Mini Dachshunds in knitted scarvesI have many.  I have a hard time just sitting still and doing nothing.  I need to have something to do with my  hands at all times.  Be it a video game on my IPad, coloring in one of my many Adult Coloring books, knitting or writing.  I used to paint as well and it’s something I really miss but I need supplies.  I have painted pet portraits for a living in the past.  Animals are my favorite painting subject.  Particularly dogs.  They have such expressive faces and pure souls.  It brought me a lot of joy.  I created a website for my paintings several years ago but I haven’t kept it up to date but you can view my paintings here  (it’s not set up for mobile devices however).

Knitting dishcloths
Knitting Dishcloths

 

Other Things to Come Clean About

I’m a book hoarder collector.  I have hundreds of books and thousands more digitally.  I’ll never read them all in my lifetime.  It doesn’t stop me from getting new books though.

I like taking hour long baths with my Ipad.  I put something good on, like I don’t know, Doctor Who, and sit in the hot water submersed.  It’s heavenly and oh so relaxing.

I love ALL the dogs.  I may not know your name, but I know your dog’s name, his interests and time of day he likes to poop.

I love miniature things.  I have a miniature dachshund.  If it were socially acceptable, I’d still have a dollhouse to play with and rearrange the furniture in.  Someday, I will have an old haunted dollhouse.  Even if I’m 80.

 

What are some of your Guilty Pleasures?  

 

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

Sam

 

Images

TARDIS  http://www.radiotimes.com/news/2017-09-05/chris-chibnall-already-has-an-idea-for-the-next-female-doctor/

The Carpenters https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Very_Best_of_the_Carpenters

Kraft Peanut Butter  https://www.walmart.ca/en/ip/kraft-smooth-light-peanut-butter/6000145830458

Diet Coke  https://vip21deliveryservices.com/product/diet-coke-can/

Other Images are my own.