Truth 18: How Not To Kill Your Family


So, while it may seem early for anything holiday related, I just saw a dang Christmas tree in a store.

WTF???? It’s mid-September?? It’s still a month and a half away from Halloween!!!

Stores have lost their minds. Seriously. It’s insanity! RUN!!!!!

But, the Christmas tree inspired me to do this little video on how not to murder your family and friends, not just around the holidays, but all year long. I use this strategy with the hubby, the family, people that piss me off at the Starbucks, you name it.

I hope it helps you too! Enjoy!




Horrible, inexcuable language here. Don’t read this rant. It’ll shorten your life by at least a year. I greatly dislike fu*kheads.


So, the other day I ran into the rudest fucker ever at the Starbucks. And I do mean EVER.

When they called his drink they should have called it like this: “Venti double mocha, salted caramel douche bag for Fuck Face. Fuck Face, your drink is ready. Fuck face?”

You guys know me pretty well, right? I take most things with a grain of salt. Not very much actually makes me mad (except road rage, horrible grammar, snatch monsters and sadistic pedicurists–but really, even those things don’t make me mad, they usually make me laugh). So, for me to be livid is, in all sincerity, pretty rare. But this guy…THIS guy…ugh. I wanted to set him on fire and toast marshmallows in the flame.

What, you may be wondering, has me so annoyed? Well, here it is.

I’m behind this guy in line at Starbucks and after he places his order the Starbucks chick (who is super sweet) looks over to me and asks, “Venti caramel frappuccino light with sugar free caramel, two Sweet&Lows, no whip, no drizzle?” I congratulated her on her awesome memory and told her how nice it was that she remembered (I get between 1-2 Starbucks a week, so it was especially nice that she remembered). The guy, who’s about 65, wearing a running suit, missing a fair amount of hair (though the rest was dyed) and not missing about 30 extra pounds, says to me while looking down his gin blossomed nose, “Wow, that sounds like an awful lot of calories for you to drink. And you probably have one a day, don’t you?”






Yeah, I was irate. But, instead of saying what I just so delicately wrote above in all caps, I said, “Actually no. It’s about 100 calories and no fat. The fat-free milk accounts for about 60 calories. The mix counts for about 40. Then the sugar-free caramel has 0 calories, as does the ice and Sweet&Low. It’s a great way to have a treat without ingesting 500 calories and 30 grams of fat, and it’s delicious.”

The reason I didn’t let this complete asshat HAVE it was that he wasn’t worth it. Here’s what I saw when I looked at him (and it made me sad because he clearly wanted to be something other that what he was):

  1. His attire screamed: “I want to be 30 years old again!” Not that men over 30 can’t wear running suits, I think they should! 🙂 You’d have to have seen him to understand. Think of older women who dress like 15 year old hoochies and you’ll understand how this guy looked.
  2. His hair screamed: “I want to be 30 years old again!” as it was clearly dyed. I’m all about dyeing hair–I dyed mine yesterday. But I think he needs to reevaluate his color choice.
  3. His attitude screamed: All women should be perfect looking all the time, be 5’8″ and weigh 120 pounds and anything less than that is unacceptable–so I should try and make this frappuccino-ordering woman feel bad for wanting a treat.
  4. His demeanor screamed: I wouldn’t date a woman over 22 because anyone over that age is ugly, fat and used up. I’m a man, spelled M. A. N., and I only date super models and porn stars because I’m THAT good.

Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have given any thought to how he looked. People have the right to look however they want to without being judged. But since he was the complete fucktard that he was and clearly casting aspersions at my not-rail-thin-self, I thought his “clamoring to look younger appearance” was relevant.

So, let me explain something to him and to anyone else that expects perfection.

  1. No one is perfect.
  2. No one should be perfect. It’s our imperfections that make us special and unique.
  3. 42 year old women are not supposed to look like they are 17. Everyone ages. Aging is okay. Aging is natural. Aging gracefully is a beautiful thing. Being happy with aging will help keep you sane as NO ONE can stop the aging process.
  4. Our bodies change as we age for a reason. From a strictly “keep the species from becoming extinct” point of view, women in their late teens through their mid-thirties look the way they do to attract the male of the species for the purpose of baby-making. That’s when we are typically the healthiest, our eggs are still young and plentiful, and childbearing should not kill us. As we get older our bodies start to change (so do male bodies, Mr. Starbucks Asshole). The shape of our bodies change due to the loss of estrogen after menopause and how the body reacts to that loss. Gravity starts to get the better of us. Our hair starts turning gray. These changes indicate to the male of the species (at the most primal level) that we are moving from child bearing age to another era of our lives. AND THAT IS OKAY!!! Why would a body that has been on the planet for 50 years be expected to look the same as a body that’s been on the planet for 20? Do most 30 year old cars look the same as they did the day they came off the showroom floor? Likely not. SO GET OVER THE DELUSION THAT WOMEN SHOULD LOOK YOUNG AND SLENDER FOREVER, EAT ONLY SALAD WITH JUST A SPRITZ OF LEMON AS DRESSING, AND AREN’T GOOD ENOUGH IF THEY DON’T!

We all have things about ourselves that we’d like to change. Everyone who reads my blog knows I gained about 10 pounds making (and EATING–yum!) all the food for the cookbook. And while I’m watching what I eat in order to lose those 10 pounds, I’m not sitting around measuring my ass and crying over it. I like how I look, curves and all. I’ve always had curves. Even when it wasn’t cool to have them (think the 80s), I still liked having curves. From any angle, I definitely look like a woman.

Here’s me at 16 and 17 going to my junior and senior proms (good grief–that make-up and hair!!!):

I've never been that tan again!

I’ve never been that tan again!

Yep, I gots me a tush!

Yep, I gots me a tush!

Curves everywhere in the mirror reflection

Curves everywhere in the mirror reflection

Here’s me now:

Baby still got back! ;)

Baby still got back! 😉

HA! Look at that furry cowie!!! I had no idea cowies could be that furry!!!

Anyway, my point by putting in cutie cowie is that I don’t have anything to prove to anyone, especially some ass face at the Starbucks. You guys all know what I look like–you can’t escape my silly self on the Internet. And even if I had rounded out to the point of becoming bovine, so what? Why should anyone care? As long as I like who I am and as long as you like who you are, who else should judge?

So please, let’s all let ourselves and others off the Perfection Hook a bit. Okay? When we die will people at our funeral say, “Wow, I would be sadder if only she’d been 10 pounds thinner…” NO! Ultimately what do we want said at our funeral. “She was so thin her whole life–she held up well, even if she was a bitch because she was hungry all the time.” Or, “I will miss her so much. She was sweet and funny and showed love to others every day of her life.” I don’t know about you, but I’d pick the second option any day. 😉

Unless your weight is making you unhealthy, don’t sweat the pounds so much. Who said everyone had to be skinny? And certainly don’t sweat the pounds of others. First off, it’s nun-ya as my hubby would say (as in none of your business). Second, who is anyone to judge anyone else’s weight? Third, you never know why a person is big (or thin). It could be a love of cupcakes or it could be emotional trauma or it could be a physical issue. But regardless of any of that, who cares? There are so many other things to consider about a person–their ass being one size larger than they may like shouldn’t be at the top of that list.

Good grief, I’m exhausted!!! So to end all of this let me throw some cliches at you, since I’m flat out of creative things to say.

  1. Shut your fucking piehole if ya ain’t got nothin’ nice to say.
  2. Those without sin, cast the first stone. Then choke to death on a pig’s foot, please.
  3. Quit being a fucking prick or Jodi will end you with a hammer and a potato peeler.

Okay, I’m done! 🙂 Have a good night and love your muffin top! 😉

KILL the Road Rage! Banish the Angst!

So, a lot of you guys have read my book excerpts page, which contains some crazy suggestions for how to properly behave in a bathroom–ewww…ick! But I wanted to share this next excerpt with you because I had dinner with a girlfriend the other night and she said that this particular part of my book changed her life. Yay!!! Now, while this section is out of the book for the ladies, it applies to both men and women alike. I think I’m going to put this one in the new book too because I’ve gotten so much positive feedback on it and it should not just be in the chick book. I hope you like it and that it helps you quell fits of rage! 😉

Live by the 10 to the 5th power rule. (Can’t do superscripts, dangit!)

What, you may ask, is the 10 to the 5th power rule? This is how it breaks down. When something aggravates me I think to myself, “Am I still going to be mad about this in 10 minutes? 10 hours? 10 days? 10 months? 10 years?” My reaction to the situation is determined by how long what is happening is going to affect me.

  • 10 minutes? Sit and grumble and curse to yourself for a minute and then let it go. It’s not worth the stress to harp on it.
  • 10 hours? Maybe have a short (VERY short) conversation with the person who has made you mad, but keep it to less than 5 minutes, don’t get riled up, and then let it go. If you won’t care about it tomorrow, is it worth causing a fight that might still bother you tomorrow? Probably not.
  • 10 days? It needs to be dealt with, but don’t beat it to death. While not sweating the small stuff will likely give you a longer and healthier life, you do have to sweat some things. If you are still going to be pissed in 10 days, then you need to air your grievance and find a way to come to some sort of conclusion about it.
  • 10 months? This is a real issue that could impact your overall happiness. If something annoys you today that will still be rubbing you the wrong way almost a year from now, then a serious discussion is necessary to iron it out and clear the air. This type of incident is not the kind to sweep under the rug. Doing so will only do further damage to you, to him and to your relationship.
  • 10 years? This is likely one of those, “This needs to change or I’m going to have to do something drastic,” types of conversations. This is another reason why it’s so important to tell your man what makes you angry and what you consider to be deal-breakers. He has to KNOW not to do this kind of stuff or it’s hard to hold him responsible for doing it (keeping common sense in mind, of course—you may never have explicitly told him not to bed your sister, but if he does, Hell hath no fury, right?).

Just like we talked about before, when learning how to have “talks” with your man, if you decide that what has happened is important enough to address, then it’s important to broach the subject of your anger in a calm, timely, non-accusatory, non-defensive way.

If what has happened is so dramatic that it’ll affect you for a year or ten years down the line, then give yourself some time to figure out how to respond. You don’t have to fly into a rage immediately. You don’t need to burst into sobs right in front of him. Sometimes, it is a great idea to step into another room and just process. Then you can cry or punch a wall or call him every name in the book while you are alone. Process the rage or hurt by yourself, and then come up with the most productive way of handling both him and the situation.

Yet again, it’s about picking your battles. The 10-minute battles are usually not worth fighting about, so just let them roll off your back. Having that kind of attitude will save you from having a million fights about who forgot to buy the milk. All those tiny irritations just aren’t worth the negative energy and the constant, underlying vibe of annoyance and disharmony. You’ll find that when you and your man live in a home where you accept each other and don’t pick over the small things, your home will be a warmer and more wonderful place to live for both of you. Ahhh…bliss…