#TeamJenny

“DON’T HATE THE PLAYER, HATE THE GAME…” No deal. I hate both.

Placing my custom made #TeamJenny sticker on the back of my car window was absolutely the highlight of my day aside from hearing a police report had been filed against “his abusive ass.” The cherry on top, being asked if I’d be willing to speak to the detective about my last ten years with him. Hmmmm. Simon says yes. In fact, Simon says I should’ve filed my own police report many times.

Why you might ask? Fool me once, shame on you – fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times – not a fucking chance.

Maybe it’s time women started believing women the first time.

Live. Learn. Rinse. Repeat.

TAK

BILLY WEST

Let’s just call him “Billy” – “Billy West”.

Billy, Billy…you did unspeakable things. You were a Master Manipulator and Gaslighting King.

The one thing I know to be true in this life – karma is real and sometimes served twice. Did you truly never expect to be served?

You see, I’m not too young to speak the truth like 12 and I’m not deer in the headlight 39. I’m 50 & fifty fits me perfectly fine.

Live.Learn.Rinse.Repeat.

TAK

YO DUMB DUMB…

THIS SCENE, right here from “Night at the Museum”. I laugh so hard every time I watch this clip and Ben Stiller’s reaction to being called “dumb dumb”. You’re welcome. Enjoy! It will provide laughter, compliments of the bad decisions I made last week which turned me into “Larry”.

Easter Island Head v. Larry the Night Guard

I can still visualize in my mind (in slow motion of course) the bat shit crazy version of myself walking in the restaurant, seeing them sitting in the booth, realizing how used and foolish I was the night before (she is clueless of course), choking him the hell out with all 115 pounds of myself and ending up in jail. Did that really happen? No, but a girl can dream! The vision is super satisfying but the hate and scar on my heart that was slowly healing is bleeding once more, and that doesn’t serve me well. I handled myself with the best integrity I could muster while my 13 year old daughter watched for my reaction. So classy and mature it was, because teaching my daughter a lesson in life was way more important than how I was feeling inside at that moment. I may have took the high road when I shook her hand and introduced myself, and not because fear was holding me back, but rather it was me loving myself more than he ever could. I took my dignity and left the restaurant. I didn’t cry when my daughter hugged me in the car, told me I was pretty, kissed me on the cheek because she simply didn’t know what else to say, and I didn’t cry until she went up stairs when we made it home.

After the kids went to bed, I text a friend and said “Hey man, are you ready to f*%k me and get me over the ex?” He laughed and said “No girl, we won’t be f*%king to get you over the ex, we would be f*%king for fun, but you know in the end that won’t help you heal.” See, that’s a solid friend right there – GIVING TRUTH and not taking advantage of a situation for some kitty. He also told me to get the hell off dating apps because I was hurting myself and not helping myself. That I needed more time. That I don’t need to try to keep up with the ex. That it’s ok, that I’m just not ready yet. I know he’s right. I called him a joy killer and said I hope it happens soon, I want to wear my cute little things and feel like a sexy woman again, because these granny panties are NOT WINNING! Then it hit me, in a sexy mood killer kinda way, that I can still get pregnant! WHOAH, and OH HELL NO! I seriously can’t believe that. It’s been so long since I’ve had to think about that piece and it feels so foreign. I should probably just stick with the goals of consistently shaving my body parts! One day at a time! SMH…adulting at #45 sucks.

FORGIVE TO LIVE because forgiving yourself and others is a MUST to move on and it doesn’t hurt to run from Attila the Hun so you’re not such a dumb dumb.

P.S. I’ve had stubby fingers my whole entire life, furthermore the entire 6 year relationship. I held your hand, and many other parts of your body for 6 years with no notice, and definitely zero complaints. I find it ironic that it took being compared to other women for my stubby little fingers to finally be noticed. #perfectlyimperfect

Live. Learn. Rinse. Repeat.

TAK

Hell, Bandaids and Bicycle Crashes

If you’ve heard the Rodney Atkins song “If you’re going through hell” then you know you better run your ass off to get to the other side. RUN FOREST FUN!

“If you’re going through Hell
Keep on going, don’t slow down
If you’re scared, don’t show it
You might get out
Before the devil even knows you’re there”.

My thought is, if your going through hell in the first place the struggle is real and you better run your ass off then implement the STOP. DROP. AND ROLL technique because if you made it out of there alive your shit is probably on fire. And just keep going, there is hope on the other side….right? Maybe a rainbow? A rainbow with a leprechaun? A rainbow with a leprechaun and a pot of gold? Nah, I don’t think that sounds right and neither does green beer, that actually sounds pretty gross. What I’m trying to say is, after you get to the finish line of all the hell you’ve been going through there is supposed to be a happy ending. No sir…not that kind, well at least not in this blog! LOL.

It may take time to find your happy HEALED ending and your new beginning. There may be times you regress due to things that RIP THE FUCKING BANDAID OF HEALING right off the bone. But what can you do? Run back through hell, find the devil and kick him the dick for bringing you back to square one? No. That’s just dumb, read the song lyrics again because if you made it out alive the first time that’s #WINNING! Pick yourself back up ONE MORE TIME and start the process all over again. It sucks, but you got this!

OHHHHH…how the bandaid ripping BURNS! It’s like you have the hairiest legs and you let a new student of hair waxing try their technique out on you! Or better yet, the bandaid ripping would be a close comparison to falling off your bike as a kid and completely racking your crotch off on the frame. It’s the bruised black and blue kind, the kind that takes your breath away. And honestly, I don’t give two shits if you’re a chic or a dude getting racked like that will light your parts up for dayzzzzzz. So check out these safety tips and use them for your future well-being:

1. Don’t ride bikes.

2. If you do ride bikes, wear a cup and a helmet.

3. Buy a ton of frozen peas. I hear Hy-vee has them on sale this week.

4. Practice meditation with said peas on your bruises, it turns your mind off and into FROSTBITE concerns! LOL

5. Be careful who you trust with your heart.

6. Do something super uncomfortable. A new job, interviews, new group activities, dance lessons. Whatever is uncomfortable for you. “Just be you, be picky and put yourself out there. What’s the worst that could happen. You make friends.” (JH credit.)

7. Force yourself to laugh and smile, even with people you don’t know and especially when you don’t feel like it. A returned smile and laugh can actually make your day brighter if you give it a chance.

8. Remember, YOU ARE STILL BEAUTIFUL. WANTED. NEEDED. IRREPLACEABLE. There is no one else like you. No matter how many “perfect matches” you see in your head.

9. Keep going, you’re almost to the other side.

STAY CALM…AND FROZEN PEAS ON!

Live. Learn. Rinse. Repeat

TAK

“WHO’S COMING WITH ME?”

I can see it so clearly in my head. Jerry Maguire desperately trying to retrieve the goldfish from the tank and once he does he turns around to face the whole office looking at him and he says whoever comes with me will experience something “REAL”, something “FUN”, something “INSPIRING” and then goes on to say “Who’s coming with me?”. The whole office is starring at him like he’s nuts! He realizes that NO ONE is coming. No one is willing to take that leap of faith for something greater, something better, something life changing – SOMETHING UNCOMFORTABLE AND SCARY. And after a ton of silence and Jerry’s speech blown to shit, Dorothy jumps out of her seat and shouts “I WILL COME WITH YOU!” I was starting to sweat there for a minute for poor Jerry.

ulEpZC

I have felt so much like Jerry the past year or maybe more like the goldfish trying to escape the net because it’s way to comfortable in my fish tank life of normalcy. Over the weekend I did a refresher hands only CPR class and I explained to one of the nurses I always felt nervous in the past to do CPR in the event I messed up. She stood there looking at me and smiled. I then laughed and realized how ridiculous that must have sounded to her and I said “What’s the worst thing that could happen? They die? They are going to die anyway if I don’t try.”

That’s how I feel about this JUMP into something completely different in my life. Is it uncomfortable? You bet it is. Unbelievably. Will it be worth it? I have no clue. What I do know is, I will either WIN or I will LEARN. And with that there is no LOSING.

So……WHO’S COMING WITH ME?

Live.Learn.Rinse.Repeat.

TAK

TOMMY WHO???

Tommy????

I woke up and just like that I realized for the past 33 years I’ve been belting out Bon Jovi’s song “Livin on a Prayer” WRONG!!!!! I mean for real…WHO IS TOMMY? My guy has been Johnny and I don’t know who the hell this Tommy dude is.

Seriously though…it happened. Today. Pulling out of my driveway, deciding I’ve had enough of love songs that make me feel gross inside and forget country music because that makes me feel like crashing my car into something and I’ve already had enough wrecks for one year. So I think to myself there is only one thing to do!!! BREAK OUT THE 80’s ROCK. It won’t cause a ton of reminiscing because we didn’t listen to it very often, SO YEAH, HELL YEAH, BRING ON THE 80’S ROCK. I gotta be honest, it’s not my fav whatsoever. But it doesn’t bring memories to my head or my heart. So, with that, you bet, I’m all in.

I am however highly disturbed by the fact that I’ve been singing this song wrong for so many years. How is that even possible to miss something so obvious? Maybe the real question is, was I really listening in the first place? Tommy v. Johnny. Hmmmmm, I guess it’s possible.

So that brings me to this thought. If it has been possible to miss something so critical as the name of the dude who worked on the docks in Bon Jovi’s hit song all these years, then who knows how much I’ve missed in LIFE not really listening. Hearing and listening are two very different things. Touché Tommy!

Live. Learn. Rinse. Repeat

TAK

Hmmmmm

THE RINSE CYCLE

Welcome to THE RINSE CYCLE.
LIVE. LEARN. RINSE. REPEAT.

You guessed it…another AMAZING blog out in the universe to read. I know, the world needs another blog like it needs another !

I would love to say it will be life shattering. An eye opening, laugh until your gut hurts, educational and occasionally sad read. It probably will be and as a bonus, I will throw out randoms about living, learning, RINSING and repeating this crazy thing called life.

I’m a mother of two amazing kids. Yes, I know, everyone says it, but they are. I’m a Paralegal by day and an IFBB Pro Athlete by night, sometimes early morning but realistically more like “whenever I can fit it in”. I just turned 45, and here’s the real kicker – I’m still trying to get my shit together and figure out who I am and what I want to be when I grow up BECAUSE THERE MUST BE MORE TO LIFE THAN THIS, oh and finally I’m a “wanna-be” blogger for myself because it feels good.

About a year ago I started this blog and called it “Inhale good shit exhale bullshit.” I started it for myself after the encouragement of a friend, but never shared it socially and only with a few people in my circle. Looking back, I thought the name fit perfectly as I was attempting some kick-ass Nitro Circus type stunts to exhale things and people in my life that were not serving me and attempting to inhale the good surrounding me like an experienced Yogi in some crazy twisted pretzel pose humming “ommmmmmmmmm.” Of course, achieving true peace will forever be a life goal for me, but I’ve outgrown the GOODSHIT & BULLSHIT mantra.

I’ve also outgrown the No F’s Given Club, although I gave it my best shot. I’ve outgrown pretending to be strong when I am weak, after all I have the best ugly cry face ever. I’ve outgrown pretending to have my shit together, because I just don’t and it’s too exhausting to pretend otherwise.

Time to be real. Time to heal.

Live. Learn. Rinse. Repeat.

TAK

cropped-rinsecycle

SAME LAME THING!

I’ve heard people make this type of comment about our youth “What is wrong with kids these days?” Uhhh, duh. Let’s start off with one of the obvious issues. MODELING BEHAVIOR. KIDS who make fun of others turn into ADULTS that do the same lame thing. And I believe that parents sometimes model this jerk behavior, and don’t realize what they are doing. Or if they do, they don’t care because they watched the same modeling behavior unfold growing up.

As an adult, I simply can’t wrap my simple little noggin around adults making fun of others but unfortunately just the other night I sat at a table full of adults doing just that. Gross and disgusting.

Let me paint the picture of the event. Inaugural Ball. Beautiful event. Beautiful “looking” people. It was a very cool experience even though I still claim to be a Republican. I’ve shifted over the years to the party of “I really don’t know who or what I am.” As the ceremony came to an end, dinner began, the band started to play and people headed for the dance floor. There was a young lady, I would guess somewhere between 18-20 and she was dancing as the band played. The second I saw her, I smiled. As she was doing something different with zero fear. It seemed like a lyrical type dance. She was smiling and enjoying herself and not being hindered in the least about the opinions of others. She had a confidence that no one at my table shared. That said the “adults” at my table started making comments with twisted facial smirks and the like. My response to this was “At least she’s up there dancing and having a good time.” Which was more than anyone at that table could say.

A few thoughts flooded my mind about these small minded people who were 35+ years of age and still doing exactly what they probably did in high school….JUDGING & MAKING FUN of people who are different.

I thought they must be so insecure about themselves. I wondered if I recorded them, and did a playback how proud they would’ve been of their words and actions.

I thought they needed people with grace in their lives to help with humble modeling behaviors.

I thought they were so clueless. They didn’t know her. They didn’t know who she was or where she comes from and because of my son I always think beyond the “perfect little human box” (which good luck with that box btw, it’s a fairytale) and maybe this girl had a special need, or maybe she loved to express herself with dance or maybe she just loved to dance in general and she was dancing the only way she knew how and she didn’t care who was watching. I LOVED THIS ABOUT HER!

I couldn’t wait to escape the table for the bathroom. I’d rather wait in a 20 minute line alone than sit at that table.

I regret one thing about that night and that was not getting up from the table and dancing with her.

So here’s to the beautiful young girl on the dance floor doing your thing.

KEEP DOING YOU. KEEP DOING WHAT MAKES YOU SMILE. KEEP DOING WHATEVER IT IS THAT MAKES YOU FEEL GOOD AND DON’T EVER LET ANYONE STOP YOU. YOUR SMILE IS CONTAGIOUS. THANK YOU FOR BEING BRAVE. YOU MAKE ME WANT TO BE MORE LIKE YOU. FREE.

xoxoxo

sexy-girl-dancing

Breathe in…Breathe out.

TAK

BECOMING VULNERABLE

COME AT ME BRO!!!! Hands up, fists clenched, maybe a few moves around the ring like my boy “Canelo” ready and waiting for the next punch to my face. Crazy as that sounds, I look at this self defense as being proactive, not negative. Ready to defend and attack before anything has a chance to hit me first. How old am I, right? Ummm, I’m 44 not 14. It doesn’t seem very mature at all, but that’s how I’ve approached life since my Dad walked out the door when I was 5 years old, after he came back and my parents remarried and they divorced again later after my Mom and my Dad’s best friend were busted having an affair. I was young but very aware of what was happening in front of my eyes, and holding a secret like that as a child is a very unhealthy thing. I remember the night my dad finally wised up and came home early that night. What followed is a memory I will never forget.

Being too open and vulnerable allows people to hurt my heart and break my trust. Frankly I’m just not down with that. Last night I watched Will Smith on Instagram and he said “Life is hard, you might get hurt, your heart might get broke, BUT you gotta COMMIT! Don’t hesitate. Go! Commit! You might lose something but you can’t experience the joy that is intended for you in life if you don’t GO!” His words were a KNOCK KNOCK…H-E-L-L-O…Are you in there? right on my brain. This doesn’t only apply to love, it applies to everything in our lives. The reason I avoid being vulnerable is that I fear what I don’t know, and by nature if things are “ok” I don’t like rocking the boat with change so I stay as stale as a bag of chips left unclipped.

I acknowledged out loud to my boyfriend and to my best friend the other day that I needed help. That I felt I had an addiction for the first time in my life. I’ve suffered from A.D.D. my whole freaking life, not really acknowledging it until August 2015 when I accepted a new position as a Paralegal. I wanted to stop wallpapering my office with post-it notes and furthermore I was sick of living my weekends with TO-DO lists that were never completed and trying to have conversations with someone bouncing around 10 subjects in less than a minute. Try to keep up with that! It’s tough! So I began medication and it has been a whirlwind of clarity and a fantastic ride, but it has also had negative side effects such as anxiety, mood swings, hair loss, etc. I tried to stop taking the medication this summer and that lasted about 2 weeks. FAIL. I never told anyone that I started taking it again, because I felt like such a loser. I felt like I had to keep it a secret because I was weak. The moment I shared that I felt I couldn’t manage life without it and I needed human help, I became vulnerable. How? I asked for help. I asked for patience. I put it out there that I needed someone.

That day, my fists were down, but I felt strong in my vulnerability. GO…COMMIT…be vulnerable.

Inhale…Exhale…

Vulnerable

TAK

FORGET IT! YEAH, YOU READ THAT RIGHT!

STOP REMEMBERING THE SHIT THAT DOESN’T SERVE YOU. Insert my best Italian “FORGET ABOUT IT” right here. If I had a dollar for every post-it note or journal note on my phone used to remind myself of “something” I need to do or not forget, I WOULD BE FREAKING RICH AS SHIT $$$$$$ CHA-CHING! Wait, shit isn’t rich is it? Whateve…you get my point.

This ridiculous topic of choice today is the feeling that I need to remember every little thing that happens in my life. Good and bad. Who has time for that? Clearly me if I could physically wallpaper a room with all the flipping post-it notes I have surrounding me at work and home.

Recently my goal driven boyfriend and I completed the monster task of cleaning out my mother’s home. She passed in February 2015. The hoarding alone took (2) 40′ dumpsters and a few crazy months of work to flip the home for sale. I realized before the project started that I would be extremely overwhelmed by so many different emotions. It was both mentally and physically exhausting. I needed to take in every memory good and bad that came with this task. Those moments and memories have made me who I am – past and present. We started at the beginning of April and the final work was completed on June 24, 2018, on the market the same day and an offer the next day. #WIN

I struggled with the loss of my Mom and denial of that favored me. There were so many memories that brought anger and tears as well as laughter and smiles. The one thing I learned from this experience by reliving and remembering so many memories is that I never wished I was little again. “Oh there are so many wonderful memories in this house, I loved being a kid, I sure wish I was 5 years old” NO…NO FUCKING WAY. WOW…what does that say about the childhood fun? Tons. Maybe, and that’s a HUGE maybe, I’d crank back time to say, 10 or 11 years old. Old enough to make some different choices in my life for my future self, but not young enough to go through some of the ups and downs that I’ve put out of my mind. Being forced to spend this much time at my childhood home helped heal my soul and in some ways say goodbye to her. I know she would be very proud of what we accomplished.

When I think about all the time spent on memories of the past (even if that past is last week or yesterday) I could slap myself. Yet I’ve caught myself over the past few days doing the same thing. Especially the memories that are not worth spending precious time on or holding on to negative memories that only bring negative thoughts into my mind. I wrote the following note to myself just now. #keepinitclassy

Dear Jack-Ass Self,

If you can’t remember the shit clutter without journal notes or post-it notes…IT MUST NOT BE WORTH REMEMBERING.
Get a clue & you’re welcome!

Yours truly,
Jack-Ass Self

Today, with my favorite 5 second rule (I love Mel Robbins, “The 5 Second Rule”) I’ve decided to PURGE notes and screenshots from my phone that do not serve me in a positive way. If I feel the need to write down bad shit or shit memories and the good shit or amazing shit is not WINNING in my life at least 90% of the time then HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM. This pattern of habit needs to evolve and not by writing more notes or keeping more negative things to remember. If it doesn’t serve me in a positive way, it’s time to say goodbye. It’s time to make room in my MIND and free up my TIME for the things WORTH remembering.

I still love post-it notes btw, but they will be used for store lists and maybe a cute little note to myself that says “Don’t be a dick by keeping track of stupid shit that doesn’t serve you!”

Inhale…Exhale…

TAK

Don't be a dick