Theeeeey’rrrrre baaaack!

I am an 80’s girl.  I grew up dancing around the living room to Cyndi Lauper and Duran Duran records in my legwarmers and acid washed jeans, clinging tight to my rainbow bright doll.  Happiness was a warm crimping iron.  I had jellies in 8 different colors. It is a decade that will always have a special place in my heart.

That said, there might be some things that we could have just left behind.  Questionable music and Aquanet indulgences aside, there were some things I consider to be embarrassing mistakes made in the decade that gave us Madonna and the best of John Hughes. And in my opinion many of these mistakes can be summed up in one word…

Fashion.

Now I do NOT claim to be any kind of fashion expert, I am far from it.  95% of the time I can be found wearing jeans and a tank top.  But really, anyone with two working eyeballs cannot deny the atrocities that were done to us during the decade that also, by the way, brought you this.

Those of you out there that lived through the 80’s know what I am talking about…you no doubt have some Bongo and Z Cavaricci skeletons in your closet, no? Well, in case you have blocked it all out, and shipped it all off to the Goodwill, let present to you a list of items that the fashion industry  and clothing manufacturers should be shot for bringing back.  And yes, back they have come…

The Beret:

The only people that should be rocking berets are military personnel.  I mean, seriously.  Yes, I know, Lohan does it.  The Olsen twins do it.  Nicole Richie does it.  Doesn’t that tell you anything?! Are you going to trust the judgment of these whacked out women?  I swear, I think the aforementioned ladies wear the most ridiculous things they can find to see if they can get the folks at home watching Entertainment Tonight to jump on board.  You are not a fashion hobo, stay off the beret train.

The Tights /Pumps Combo:

They actually spend part of just about every year trying to convince us this one is cool.  But this year it seems worse, and more obnoxious than usual. Why?  Because its 80’s influenced!  This means bright colors, bold patterns and lace.  Lace…really?  Life is not a boudoir photo shoot and you are nowhere near being like a virgin.  Skip this 15 minute fashion do.

Over the Top Animal Print:

Just because you still like to blast ‘Eye of the Tiger’ when no one is home to make fun of you does not mean you should dress like something that could pass for its prey.  I mean, a little animal print accessorizing is one thing, but looking like you have draped yourself in a carcass is something else altogether…something altogether WRONG.

Bubble Skirts:

Ladies, these skirts were such a bad idea…why are we allowing them back into our closets?  Unless you are a stick figure they are completely unflattering.  Unflattering as in if you have hips you are going to look like a walking hot air balloon in one of these very bad boys. So unless you want people asking if you can fly them over wine country for a romantic evening getaway, stay away from this fashion rewind.

Extremely Large, Extremely Tacky Plastic Accessories:

Now these are totally awesome…if you are under 8 years old.  Other wise what the hell are you doing?  Please do not shop for accessories in your preschoolers’ birthday party loot bags.  Seriously, people.  If it could double as pinata filler, put it down.  Now.

In case of any of you are reading this thinking, “hmm, I might have some gems in my closet I should go mining for!” let me present to you my finally plea for (your) sanity.  If you are thinking it still seems like a good idea, a way to save money and look chic, well, just stare at the next picture for a moment. Here is a woman who also thought it was a “good” idea…

WRONG!

Don’t do this.  Don’t let your sister, mother, girlfriend, or wife do this.  Because after they see a picture of themselves dressed like this they are going to be filled with shame, which will turn to rage which will turn into a riot of women the likes of which the world has not seen since the bra burning days.

Only I think we will most likely be burning these instead:

What do you think, peeps?  What 80’s fashion items would you NOT like to see at your local clothing retailer?  Are there any items in your closet that you have clung to for years, hoping they will go back into style?  Confess…you’ll feel better.

Falling off the pedestal

“I’m disappointed in you.”

It’s been years since those words were seared into my subconscious like a hot knife through butter. Four simple words constructed a statement that left an indelible imprint on my psyche and my heart. In retrospect it was a seemingly harsh reaction to a rather uncomplicated situation, but who am I to judge anyone’s disappointment?

We each have our own concepts and ideals of how life should be, and when others fail to meet our expectations we in turn are left feeling disappointed. We place our friends, family and even strangers on a moral pedestal of our own creation; a platform single-handedly erected with our individual wants, needs and experiences that have shaped our thought processes and standards of acceptance.

To “relinquish expectations” sounds like a novel hypothesis… the less we expect, the higher the probability we will avoid resentment. With this in mind, I have to wonder why each and every one of us isn’t striving to make this our modus operandi. Control, fear, arrogance…pick your poison.

According to Don Miguel Ruiz, author of The Four Agreements, it’s possible to attain personal freedom and true happiness by living a simple yet powerful code of conduct: (1) Be impeccable with your word; (2) Don’t take anything personally; (3) Don’t make assumptions; (4) Always do your best.

I am fairly certain that “always do your best” is included in The Four Agreements because we generally aren’t conditioned to adhere to, or even embrace the first three principals. Unfortunately, all too often we become so preoccupied with what we perceive to be the deficiencies of others that we negate to take responsibility for our own thoughts and actions. Blame is much easier than self-exploration.

A thought to ponder: Wouldn’t life be a little less nebulous if in the midst of our own realities (because they are solely our own) and subsequent palpable disappointments, we were able to conjure up empathy and compassion rather than succumbing to the egocentric martyr role?

Am I the only one who sometimes likes to pretend that life is a fairytale and that disappointments can actually be avoided? Or are you one of those realistic grounded types who knows that they’re inevitable? Just how high are your expectations?

Seek Sunshine

As I head to Florida for the weekend and think of Florida Sunshine, it seems the perfect time to share my life motto with the Eve-101 family. Occasionally, people will ask me what all the talk of seeking and sharing sunshine may be under the About Us section. I’m not called Sunshine because I’m blonde. It’s much, much deeper than my naturally blonde (lowlighted and highlighted twice a year) hair. It’s more than my normal disposition. SEEK SUNSHINE encompasses my life philosophy, a huge life lesson and an energy shared amongst those closest to me.

All that being said, today is just as good a day as any to share my motto and learn about yours!

Timing is relative… this happened five years ago.

Picture August…dark, black and dreary for a week at a time. The week after my ex left, I was sitting outside on the deck drinking my morning coffee pondering the state of my life, my heart and so much more. I was in tremendous pain. I mean, the man who had promised to love and cherish me forever….whom I believed….just left under some precarious conditions and my life and my very soul were in turmoil.

Out of respect and genuine love for him, I feel the need to share two things. First and foremost, he is an amazing, extremely active and very loving father to our children. Second, he did not cheat on me and those precarious conditions are not relevant.

The chapter that ended is not nearly as important as the chapter which began.

Sass Monkey, my daughter, was eleven months old at the time. I have no idea what she may have felt…She is VERY relevant !

My Little Man was 2 1/2 . He has my grandmother’s blue eyes, only larger. Angelic, even. He had seen and heard some things that children should NEVER see or hear….and part of my pain was not knowing how much of that was my fault. For anyone who has ever ended a marriage with children, perhaps this makes more sense. The point is that my son was absolutely in turmoil of his own. Words fail to express how much this impacts me.

On this bleak August morning, my Little Man comes outside, looks at the dark sky above and just practically cries, “Mama! Mama! NO SUN!!!!” My kids adore nature and everything about it. In any other situation, this could have been a toddler upset about the weather.

However, I recalled a time in my childhood when I felt confused or hurt by one thing and it was easier to tell my parents that something trivial or childlike was the issue. I saw my son basically doing the same thing. In my heart, all I could feel in that moment was his pain. Mine disappeared and his consumed me. I still get chills to remember just how much I felt his pain and how powerless I felt.

Literally, I could feel my son’s pain to my very core.

I honestly felt he was saying “look, I am really hurt and confused that the daddy I love so much will not be living here anymore….and I love my daddy so much….and, mom, I love you so much, too….but,I am confused…..I am hurt and now look…the sun isn’t even shining”. Without even knowing it, I realized on some level that this moment was going to define the course of the rest of our lives.

All this in less than a minute or two. This is how I think and feel.

Feeling his pain, all I could do was kneel down and look into those beautiful, innocent eyes of his that always brought my mamaw (moms mom) close to me. Mind you, she died twenty five years ago….so her influence on me is profound. I remember thinking of her love for me and mine for her….and giving consideration to what she may have said to me in a similar moment.

Kneeling down, I just gazed into those angelic eyes with so much love that I know he must have felt it. I pointed to the darkest, biggest cloud right above our heads. I asked him if he saw it. He responded with some fear and trepidation, “Uh huh, …….The Big One?”

I just looked at him and with what I attribute to my mamaw and God….felt the strength to tell him with every ounce of conviction possible:

” Yes, baby, the big one. Honey, the sun is right behind THAT cloud.”

I kid you not. Little Man’s expression immediately changed to joyous. God was in that moment. My mamaw was in that moment. He put his little hands on my cheeks, smiled and said “Oh….SEEK SUNSHINE!” Like all the truths of the universe were revealed to him and it was really THAT simple. SEEK SUNSHINE. He was right, it is that simple.

To me, there was something poetic about everything I had ever read about “a little child will lead us” and how God sent his son to save us and my own saving me.

We have said that phrase almost every day since their dad left. I painted the walls in my house yellow…to which my kids immediately proclaimed quite happily “Yeah…Sunshine!!!” It was my daughter’s fifth word. I have various sunshine symbols in our home. It is our life theme, if you will.

Now you know the catalyst for my life change and why I strive to seek the light in any darkness. I learned it from my greatest teachers, my children.

I’ve shared our life motto. What is yours? Was there a single moment where it became clear to you, or would you say it grew on you over time? I really want to know!! If you don’t have a life motto, share something a child has taught you.

Protecting and Serving The Vagina

I am not only flabbergasted, but outraged! My original intent of this “Confessions of a Single Girl” post was to maximize my self-deprecation through a rather embarrassing yet hilarious tale of my contraception method gone awry and the subsequent high cost of owning a vagina. Unfortunately, while researching the facts and figures to support my decision to use what many deem as an inconvenient, messy and archaic form of birth control, I’ve become privy to an issue that I thought was simply an isolated case of rare and unfortunate circumstances. Apparently, however, I am not alone and it seems as though the Hippocratic Oath has given way to compromising patient care in lieu of religious and moral beliefs.

Whilst making a late night trip to an E.R. that likened a Tijuana abortion clinic to have my diaphragm extricated (stop laughing!) I was subjected to what I’d chalked up to as an uncomfortable and unfortunate event. Awkward from the get-go, the experience was made even more painful by the lecture and inquisition being delivered below a paper sheet between my knees. I could hear her words, but only see her turban…a purple, silk paisley turban asking inappropriate questions and offering personal opinions while digging for my beloved cervical barrier with forceps and a flashlight. With conjured up memories of after school detention, I left feeling even more ashamed and horrified then when I’d walked through the doors.

A woman’s body is hers to do with as she pleases…or at least that’s my personal opinion. No state, government, church or physician has the right to delegate what’s appropriate and what is not. If I choose to utilize a 120 year old birth control device and risk getting it lodged in my hoo-ha as opposed to the vast array of modern day hormonal methods I shouldn’t be judged for it. And I most certainly should not be told to “abstain,” by Mr. Battkha, the pharmacist who wouldn’t refill my replacement diaphragm. Yep, after he lied and told me that my precious diaphragm had been taken off the market, I inquired as to my options. It was then that the religious zealot said, “Why don’t you abstain, Karri?” (I bit my tongue as to not tell him that I had a better idea that involved him screwing himself!)

Seriously, who knew that opting for passé pussy protection would come with a whorish stigma? Men aren’t being ostracized for purchasing condoms so why did a Doctor and a pharmacist feel it appropriate to condemn me for at the very least keeping my eggs unfertilized? Honestly, I don’t give a rat’s ass about their personal, moral or religious beliefs…I respect our differences. But this is my vajaja we’re talking about and I will not tolerate extremists telling me how to care for it. It is after all a very fragile environment and it must be protected…and who better to be in control of that than the woman who owns it?!

Apparently my circumstances aren’t the rarity that I’d assumed. Women all across this great and free country of ours are being held hostage by the personal beliefs of physicians and pharmacists. “There are pharmacists who will only dispense birth control pills to a woman if she’s married. There are physicians who mistakenly believe contraception is a form of abortion and refuse to prescribe it to anyone,” said Adam Sonfield of the Alan Guttmacher Institute in New York, which tracks reproductive issues.

Bottom line is this…sex and religion are two of the greatest debates in history and I would never be so naïve as to believe that someday we will all agree. BUT…for the love of all that is (un)holy, please save the sermons for the Synagogue and keep them out of medical practices! Thank you.

Bring it people…I can’t possibly be the only one who is livid with others spewing their personal propaganda under the guise of a professional title. Where are your boundaries? Do you believe that medical professionals have the right to discern a woman’s contraceptive choices?  And what about men, shouldn’t they be held to the same set of standards and lectures?

The Representative

With any luck, there comes a time in our lives when the lessons we’ve learned will culminate into a superlative dose of self confidence and we realize that we don’t need to be justified by the thoughts and opinions of others. We wholeheartedly know who we are, what we want and how to obtain it…negating societal expectations. Or, at least that’s the goal of growing up and growing into our own, right? But what happens when we inadvertently cross paths with someone who hasn’t achieved this right of passage, but who instead has opted for the path of least resistance?

Meet, “The Representative.”

The Representative is the persona that many weak and insecure individuals choose to don in order to showcase their ideal self… sans neurotic behaviors and idiosyncrasies. Skilled in the art of putting his or her best foot forward, The Representative often makes a stellar first impression that can last for quite some time. The thought process, albeit perhaps on a subconscious level, is mischievous and calculating, and chances are we’ve all succumbed to this juvenile behavior a time or two.

Quite possibly we may have even found ourselves acting in an unusual or sensationalized manner as to appear more desirable… but, desirable to whom? If we suppress and reject our own truths aren’t we ultimately denying those whom we’re attempting to attract?

Unfortunately, relationships don’t come with extended warranties or money back guarantees when all goes awry. One day your beloved bait and switcher is causing your heart to flutter and the next you fear finding Peter Cottontail boiling on the stove. We fell in love with a concept, an idea… a fairytale bill of goods that someone sold us and then suddenly, without warning,  the other shoe drops and we find ourselves right smack in the middle of no-mans-land without a map. How did we not see this coming? How did we veer so far off course that we’re unable to recognize the person starring back at us?

Fear not, for the blame lies solely on The Representative. It’s an impossible feat to sustain a masked facade indefinitely and the truth is certain to reveal itself eventually. Assuming a Representative is an exhausting chore, and even more so for those unaware or unable to realize that they’re living in a fantasy world of make believe.

Doesn’t it make you wonder how anyone can reasonably expect a relationship to succeed when it is based on false expectations and dishonesty? Isn’t the fundamental foundation to any successful REAL-ationship exactly that - being REAL?  So I say… ditch your Representative and wear your crazy with confidence! Besides, we’re all a little wacky in our own special sort of way, no?

Do you masquerade as a happy-go-lucky, carefree soul or pretend to be a hard ass when in reality you’re a fragile flower?  When do you, or have you opted for a persona other than your own? Go ahead, admit it, we won’t judge you…name your foolish act of deceit.

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