Real Life is Admitting When Things Suck

I am scheduled to have heart surgery in 2 weeks.
I have been very public about my surgery and certain things I am going through, but I want to get real real today.

I know I put a really brave and positive face on social media. I get emails all day long about how inspiring I am and how my positivity is so great. And most of the time I do try to stay positive. I keep smiling. I show up to classes and shoots and film my videos and keep that peppy Cherry face on.

But the truth is, I feel shitty. I feel shitty most every day. And nothing any one can do will make it better. And it takes all of the strength that I have just to get out of bed in the morning and not wallow in pain and self pity.
I feel like someone is sitting on my chest and I cant quite catch my breath. I feel like there is a little demon in there flicking my heart every now and then so that it doesn't beat quite right. I feel more tired than I ever have in my life. I find myself nodding off during the day like an 87 year old man. I don't know why it is like a man, it just made good sense in my head. I am sick, give me a break. I am tired of doctors appointments and tests. I feel like all I want to do is cry or sleep. And I have spent a lot of my days lately doing both.

I rarely see any of my friends or family anymore. Part of this is self inflicted and part of this is friend inflicted. I am not good at reaching out. I don't want to be a burden on anyone when all of my people are going through so much themselves. But part of me is becoming resentful. I cant even tell you the last time a real life friend or family member, and not some lovely social media stranger, has reached out to make sure I am ok. Love from strangers is amazing-- but nothing makes up for the love you get from people that you truly love back. And social media strangers aside, I have had more casual acquaintances texting and messaging than anyone that is close to me. And I try to ignore it. But it hurts. And I am already in so much pain all of the time.

I am scared. At least once a day I go into a full on panic attack. I think about them cutting into me. I think about the pain after surgery. I think about the possibility of having to go back. I think about the possibility of being left with a pace maker. I think about not being well in time to continue working. I think about the bills. I think about not being fixed and dealing with this forever. I think about losing my insurance after the ACA is gone and not qualifying for new insurance because I am a pre existing condition. I wake up in the middle of the night and my mind races.

I am a really active person and I am working really hard to get my body in shape. But my heart consistently holds me back. Sometimes even just walking up a flight of stairs leaves me so winded I have to sit down. I am frustrated that I can't push my body as hard as it needs to be pushed to see the results that I want. Especially when the rest of my body is healthy and ready to be pushed. My heart is like a fitness limiter. If it had a face, I would punch it right off.

The reality of having a medical condition isn't fun. No matter how many positive posts and happy smiles I put on my face-- I am hurting and I am scared and I am lonely. I appreciate all of your kind words and messages and letters and gifts, don't get me wrong. All of these things are the little rays of sunshine on my dark days. But I thought I owed it to everyone else struggling through health issues to be honest. If you are feeling all of these things too, you are not alone. Just do your best to keep going and keep that smile on your face even when you don't feel it. I can't say I am anyones champion, but I am doing my best.

I just want to be better.

P.S. My husband is the best husband that ever husbanded and has been my rock through all of this!

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United we Stand, Divided we Fall.

November 8, 2016. I cried myself to sleep. November 9, 2016. I woke up crying and walked around in a black fog all day. I was hateful. I was hurt. I was mad as hell and wanted to strike out at anyone that I deemed at fault.

November 10, 2016. I woke up anew. Today I realize that you can't battle hate with hate. It just doesn't work. I stepped back in the middle of a Facebook war last night and thought, what is my hate getting me right now? What is my hate changing? Nothing. It is just making me as bad and as hateful as the person attacking me. I told the guy on the other end that I respected him and chose to remove myself. I realized that after I did that, I had won.

One thing I refuse to do is run. This is MY country. This is OUR country. I am staying and I am fighting just like the generations before me did. The generations that fought for women's rights. The generations that fought for civil rights. The generations that fought to get our society to a place of love and acceptance. It is now our duty to keep that torch burning and keep fighting. Not everyone has the ability or the privilege to run... We must stay for those that have no choice.
Now is the time to support each other. Support your LGBTQ family. Support your family of color. Support your female family. Support your immigrant family. Support all of the family that is scared for what will happen in their lives now. Be the change you want to see.

Now is the time for everyone to get involved. Stop venting on Facebook. Stop twitter feuding. Get out there and figure out what you can do to change the things that need changing and keep the things that are working. MAKE your voice be heard. Get off of your couch and go to (peaceful) protests. Get out of your house and vote on the measures that will save our rights. Write to your congress men and women and TELL them what you need. Be active in your community. In the next primary-- VOTE. Lets get a candidate that speaks for US.

Am I angry? Sure. Am I scared? Absolutely. But today I choose to take all of those feelings and channel them positively. I choose to keep my head up. I choose to believe that love will win.
It's only 4 years.

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The Age Old Question...Kids?

So since I took a long blog hiatus, I am going to come back with guns blazing and talk about the subject you guys are CONSTANTLY asking me about. Am I going to have kids?

Growing up, I never wanted kids. I never had that pull to be a mom or get married or really do any of the things that are expected from females. I just wanted to be happy. Whatever that meant.

In my mid 20s I started to think about kids. I started to really think about whether or not I wanted them since I could hear that clock ticking quietly in the background. When I met Trevor, the urge for children became stronger than I had ever experienced. It was like I was standing in a bell tower and the clock was ringing all around me. When we fell in love and got married and started our life, I could finally imagine being a mom. I could imagine us lying in bed with our little human between us-- sharing our little life that no one else could touch. I started to glamorize parenthood. Sunny park picnics. Smiley birthday parties. Baby milestones. It started to seem like something maybe I did want.
And then I started to travel a lot. And my friends started having kids. And all of that came to a screeching halt.

I hate crying babies. I hate changing diapers. I hate temper tantrums and food flung everywhere. I hate answering to anybody but me. I love my freedom. I love traveling. I love my quiets moments alone with Trevor. I love sleeping in. I love reading quietly before bed. I love going to dinner with friends and drinking wine and not being distracted. I love my life. Some people call it selfish-- I call it content.
Then I started panicking. But wait, if I don't have kids, who will take care of me when I am old?? What will my life MEAN?
And then my rational brain kicked in.

I know plenty of dickhead kids that hate their parents and are drug addicts and shysters. I know people that have straight up stolen from their dying parents. There is no guarantee that your kids will give a crap about you. There is no guarantee that even with kids, you won't still die alone. What a weird reason to have kids. Not only that, but they say that the average cost of raising a child to 18 years old is about $250,000. If I invested that in a retirement fund for the next 18 years... I WILL BE A MILLIONAIRE!! Seriously. Kids take all of your money.

As far as my life having meaning... My life has plenty of meaning. I feel that my life has been filled with dozens of personal and public successes. I have a man that loves me, and that I love intensely and fully. I have friends that are there always. I have a family that rules. I get to see the world. I have all of the things that I need in my life. And I have freedom. FREEDOM. To me, freedom is priceless. The freedom to be and do whatever I want. I can buy a plane ticket to India tomorrow if I want to. I can sleep until 5pm if I want. I can quit my job and be a street performer for the rest of my life if I want. I have no one depending on me. Which means the sky is the limit. I don't have to worry about providing food and shelter and education and healthcare to a little human.

Trevor is with me. He has told me so many times that if I want kids... he will love them and be the best dad ever. And if I don't... we will spend our lives together having adventures. He is basically leaving the decision to me. Let me tell you, this lovely way of thinking is NO help in my decision making. But lovely nonetheless.

Now here comes my disclaimer: having and/or wanting kids is not bad or wrong in any way. No way ma'am. I have lots of friends with kids that are perfectly happy and that are amazing parents with amazing kids. I also have friends that are miserable with kids that are little bastards and I am always relieved when I get to go home. But the beauty of our generation is we get the CHOICE. We get to choose to be parents, or not to be parents. And no choice is wrong. It annoys me and makes me sad when I get relentless comments from people asking me when we are having kids and if I say anything at all about possibly not wanting them, there is always the appalled "Why?" Why?? Because none of your business, that's why.

Here is one thing to remember when asking people about parenthood... Some people simply CANNOT have children. I have a few close friends that have struggled with fertility and hearing those questions always appalls me-- the lack of care and thought that comes along with them just kills me.

Fertility aside... A persons choice to be a parent is no ones business but their own.
And as of today do I want kids? Nope. Will it change tomorrow? Maybe. But right now I am happy and content with my choice. And if I get old and my eggs dry up and I always wonder what it would have been like to be a mom, I can always look back at the badass shit I got to do in my life and the man I get to have forever and know that I made my best choice.

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Day 55- My Move to LA

I was at the beach a few days ago before an appointment. I just sat there and thought how amazing and strange my life is compared to where I was 7 years ago.
In 2008, my life was in a bad place. For those of you that don't know, I was married before (more on that later). My marriage had been in shambles for a good year and finally in July we called it quits for good. The previous year I had undergone two heart surgeries and it had given me a new perspective on life. I was clinically dead for just under a minute after my first surgery and it really made me realize that it can all be gone in a flash. If I died tomorrow, what did I have to show for it? Almost nothing.
At the end of 2008 I graduated college, had discovered my freedom, and was looking to make some changes. I loved Portland, but I felt that it had offered me all of the experiences and opportunities that it could and I was ready for something bigger. I had a good friend that had moved to LA a few years before and I went to visit her that summer. I also met a boy... and although he wasn't the love of my life, he did give me hope that boys could actually be nice and genuine and not make me cry. I had never had any real desire to move to LA, but it just seemed like something different and new and exciting and I really had nothing to lose. After 4 years of being tied down and seeing my future dwindling, I decided to just hold my breath and make the leap.
I had about $1000 total in my bank and about $30k in student loan debt. I had no job. I had 1 friend and a boyfriend. I had no plans to speak of. But I did it. And Jesus, was it scary. I left on December 18, 2008. My boyfriend flew up and then we drove down in a UHaul that had every last thing I owned crammed in the back. We had to drive through one of the worst winter storms the northwest had seen in a decade and I had white knuckles all the way through the mountains. I remember pulling into LA just as the sun was coming up, exhausted and scared and cold.
I found a minimum wage job at a tattoo shop. I got a few small modeling jobs here and there. The boyfriend and I parted ways. I met a small handful of really genuine people that helped keep me smiling through the tough days. I met Trevor.
I can't say that it was easy. It wasn't. At all. The first year and a half I spent in LA was one of the hardest of my life. I missed my friend and family. I missed familiarity. I struggled to find work and pay my bills. I was dead broke and living off of pantry crumbs. My car broke down about 8 times. I made it through a whole summer with no AC in my apartment or my car. At one point I remember sitting in Trevors van, wrenching my hands and crying knowing that if I didn't find a real job within a few months, I would have to move to Denver to live with my mom. I was 26 and felt like an utter failure. I cried... A LOT.
But I made it through. And 7 years later, I am happier than I have ever been. By 1,000 times. I have a cute little house with all of my creature comforts. I have a new car that is reliable. I have a car AND a house that have AC. My dealings with sweaty armpits are minimal. I feed myself regularly and healthfully. I have health insurance. I have a job that I absolutely love and that allows me to travel the world meeting hot babes. I have a steadfast group of friends that have taken me on all kinds of adventures. Most importantly, I have a stupendous husband who loves me more and better than any other human ever has or ever could. And I have his incredible
family to love too.
Sometimes it takes those scary leaps to make you realize that life is waiting for you. The universe always catches you.

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Day 14- Finding my Place

Oh hi guys. This is officially the start of my second week as a blogger. I did it!
If you guys follow me on youtube, you probably saw the video I posted this week about feeling a little lost. Around the holidays I started getting sucked under by depression and anxiety about where my future is headed. I am generally a pretty positive person, but man, I was struggling bad!
Doing what I do is fun-- it is! But it is also monumentally stressful. Every single morning that I wake up I think "Ok, how am I going to pay my bills this week." I have my hand in multiple honey pots trying to make it all work. And for the most part, I have an amazing time and feel like what I am doing is worthwhile.
It is just the adulating part of it that is stressful. Anyone that works for themselves or  works freelance understands this struggle. No health insurance. No 401k. No paid vacation. No sick days. No job security. It is a scary world! It is also kind of stressful trying to be everywhere all at once. I answer all of my emails, most of my comments, all of my messages... Plus trying to book all of my tours, film and edit my videos, etc. It is a lot of work for one solitary person with no assistant!
I have ridden the youtube wave for the last few years. And when I started, there was a lot of money to be made in the land of youtube. But in the last few years, youtube has changed how they distribute advertising money and the funds are being stretched too thin for the average person to really profit anymore. If you are thinking of quitting your day job to be a youtube millionaire, I would advis
e another hair brained scheme. I started doing my hair and makeup tours as a way to meet all of the lovely ladies that follow me and also to supplement my income. For a few years it was great!
But now I feel that all of this is starting to slow down a little. And I am stuck with that age old question... what is next??
I have a business degree (and a drug and alcohol counseling degree) and honestly I have no urge (or financial ability) to go back to school ever. A lot of people suggested opening a brick and mortar store selling rockabilly stuff and my vintage clothing that I sell on etsy. This would be great if I lived in the Midwest where rent is basically nothing. But I live in LA where rent can be $10k a month. I just can't afford to open a store-- as fun as it would be!
I know there is no quick and easy answer. I did enjoy reading a lot of the suggestions I got on youtube though. And some of them actually did give me some new ideas.
Who knows where life will take me. My anxiety has started to get better though. I know whatever I do, I will land on my feet. And if I lose everything and become homeless, I can live with you guys right?

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Day 13- The Gym

The gym. It is a scary place for a woman.
You know what is even scarier? Classes at the gym! All of those mirrors. All of those eyes. All of those pelvic thrusts and leg lifts!
Last year I decided that I was really going to make the gym my (eh hem) bitch. And I tried... I really did. But it was SO boring! I would run on the elliptical for 30-40 minutes and then I would try to work with weights for a while but my mind would wander and I would think of 800 other things I could be doing and I would leave.
Last year I also met my friend Cora. Cora is a beast. She works out more than anyone I know. And she just so happened to work out at my gym. One day she asked if I had ever taken a class there (they offer several different classes a day). I hadn't but I had always been equal parts curious and terrified.
The average gal feels self conscious at the gym. This is based purely on the self consciousness of being a woman. Now cover yourself in tattoos and see how that magnifies. EVERYWHERE you walk, eyes follow you. Lifting heavy weights and making stupid faces? You better believe someone is watching. It was a mixture of these things that made me horrified to even step into the class room alone.
But my pal Cora told me about some good classes and encouraged me to join her. So my first class I walked in and went straight to the far corner and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. Halfway through the class, I forgot anyone else was there and just focused on pushing myself. And every now and then Cora and I would catch eyes in the mirror and laugh at ourselves.
The mirrors are actually a great distraction... I just focus on my form and when I just don't want to make eye contact with anyone, I watch my feet. I also remember that everyone else is in there is self conscious too and no one is trying to make you feel bad. That is your own silly brain.
I would definitely encourage anyone that is a member of a gym to take advantage of the classes-- especially if they are free. Good instructors will push you and help you with your form so you don't injure yourself. You can do anything from kickboxing (my favorite! We call our instructor Future Butt because he yells that at us when it starts to hurt-- and he looks like Jay Z) to aerobics, to boot camp, to spin classes, to yoga... there is something for everyone! Don't be scared!
Here I am almsot a year later and I go to almost 3 classes a week. I don't know any of the instructors or class participants by name-- but I am not afraid to make eye contact and smile. Or yell out counts in class when things get hard. Or clap at the end of a good class.
I will not win any awards for miss gym congeniality this year-- but at least my ass is getting tighter.

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