The Alpha…

If you think this is about the beginning and the end the omega I’ve got news for you, it’s not. It’s about the natural process of human selection that helps weed out weak from strong and determine the alpha dog running the show. The main circus ringmaster. People have often laughed about my intricate studies of human behaviors and personality issues. That’s okay, because that’s why I admit that when I need to I know just where to either piss you off or make you feel the right desired effect. Case in point at work.

When I have a case and I have a phenomenal client I advocate relentlessly. I fight for my client for their family with the ruthlessness of a vicious mother cub protecting her den. How do I accomplish this? Manipulating the concept of the appeal to sympathy. The appeal to sympathy implies that something is meritless and you’re simply relying on sympathy to slate you on. In my cases that’s not the case at all, far from it actually. But my attempt is to make the readers feel enraptured by my work. To relate to it in such a level that it does evoke emotion of some sort. If you’re a normal feeling human being no matter how tough but sans a personality issue where you wouldn’t feel this would be futile. For me it’s about winning and getting the cases approved on behalf of these people that I feel so strongly for. As an advocate I am the Alpha that is running the show pulling the strings of the puppets on the receiving end. I know the reaction that I want and I also know when I read my own work how close we are to a slam dunk.

The thing is that some people think they are Alphas. But an Alpha female or male doesn’t have to exercise and wield their power to show they’re the Alpha. In fact, sometimes it’s just their presence, attitude, the gaze, or walk it’s in their behavior. Not for nothing, I know I’m an Alpha. Narcissistic much? Not at all, it’s a knowing. If I want to eviscerate you, believe me I will.


Disney’s reoccurring theme..

I have a six year old. I’ve raised her thus far to think little girls are not grown women. As she gets older she will earn the right to do more things like paint her nails, go out etc. At 6, she’s not ready to hit the club like it’s her birthday as best sung by good ol 50 cent. One day though she will be, but hopefully by that time I have prepared her as well as I can for life. 

Shopping for girls these days is hard. The fashions are outrageous. I once saw a tube top that doubled as a mini skirt. I mean am I dressing a future baby prostitute or a child? It’s sick. I dress my daughter as age appropriate as I can, as fashion forward as I can without trying to turn her into a self obsessed monster. So imagine the difficulty in finding age appropriate shows.

She’s 6 but bores of cartoons. She’s an uber smart (to smart for her own good) kid. So although the screen shows tv shows with a G rating which are hypothetically for the general audience, I’ve found one massive reoccurring theme. Boy crazy girls that are just obsessed with boys. Okay, obviously kids grow up and start to eventually notice the opposite sex. But why are shows aimed at the general consensus of just showing boy thirsty girls? I take issues with that. Is that all we can teach girls? Granted, teaching starts at home but you can’t deny the outside influences are like subliminal Devils. Where else are girls younger and younger developing body image issues from? Instagram? Where everyone takes photos like their waiting to film their next debut with Brad Pitt. Social media. Magazines. Tv shows. This all plays a part. 

People like to argue that it’s a parents fault or problem to screen and monitor their children. I agree but to a degree. I can’t raise my daughter in a bubble. There has to be some sort of accountability about what we show kids, what we put forth. How about a show about a girl who’s an A student who invents the cure for some formerly incurable disease or a show about the first girl ground breaking scientist who’s also a teenager like Dougie Howser who was a doctor at like 13? We need more shows about women and girls shattering those glass ceilings than incorporating all the dumb shit that at the end matters so minutely. 

Back to basics…

Somewhere along the road I’ve lost the basics. I lost the very essence that makes me shine. I’ve lost the light. I’ve battled in the dark for a long time. The darkness is a source of comfort. I like it there. Being in the light is difficult. Being empathetic is hard sometimes. Being tolerant of ignorance is hard sometimes. But most of all it’s harder to fake it till you make it. So this morning I sought out a photo I wanted one where through the windows of my soul I couldn’t see the torment. I wanted one photo where I could set my sights on simply going back to the basics. 
I told a friend of mine the other day, that I don’t care what anyone says. Life chips at you. Eventually the pain, the trauma, the sadness cuts so deep that it changes you. Whether it jades your view, makes you tougher less sensitive to things, you change period. For myself I have changed. I’ve come to loathe people. I’ve become unsympathetic, insensitive and just cold and antisocial. I think these traits were always there. However, somehow I’ve become the poster child for ruthlessness. You can’t un-know things. You simply can’t. So if you’ve learned pain, you can’t take that back. You move on from it, you grow but it will always be there hidden in the corners, like a monster hiding from the light, straying into the shadowy corners. 
I think this is what makes me read others fairly well. I recognize the broken, the wounded, the damaged, the evil. Because I’ve seen it facing the mirror myself. I don’t consider myself evil but I can be. I can be unrelentingly evil and vile and not feel remorse. I try to force myself to feel it and I can’t. I say it but the words are empty. Meaningless. I just want to try to get to the basics..

The light..

My first inclination is to run. Break out into a full on sprint, music blasting while the sidewalk pounds the soles of my feet. I’m far from conventional by any means. People say that but I mean it. My emotionless state is what makes my life so easy to deal with. If I sat there and drowned myself in emotions, I would be a hot emotional mess. So I opt to shut it down reign it in and as I tell myself suck it up buttercup. I’ve had many challenges. I’ve always surpassed them. 
My fathers health is ailing and a lot of it is a result of his own doing. This doesn’t make it any easier although my strength and resilience make it seem as though it is that simple. 

What I didn’t know when I wrote the paragraph above is that my dad would flatline and come back. That I would realize a hospital to be a place of a lot of sadness for those who are ailing or passing, some hope for those who are saved and some joy for those that are born. 
I couldn’t do what they do on a daily basis. I couldn’t stare death in the face every single day. It’s not that I fear death necessarily it’s that I want to live. In the face of mortality I pale. I pale at the thought of what I hope to do, what I want to do and what I haven’t done. I think of death like the times I’ve had surgery. Where they give you an anesthetic lights out.. not here nor there just out…

And I don’t want to be out..


I am like a hurricane. I can’t help it. I’m a 5’5 Walking hurricane. Take no prisoners I genuinely can’t help it. I’ve told you I have a personality issue. Denial is not one of my issues. When I wrote my blog, don’t think I’m just saying my kid is great because everyone thinks their kid is great. My daughter is an asshole sometimes. In fact sometimes she’s also manipulative. However, I know her and work with her like a drill seargent because I value education. I’ve often said I will fund her future life expeditions so long as she goes to college. If she wants to find herself I’ll play along just do what you have to do and I’ll kick the cash. 

My 6 year old is now in a tizzy over the prospects of being held back and now I want everyone’s head on a stick. So I did what I do best and wrote a letter. There’s an inside joke about my letters. I’ve written to probably every agency you can think of and ripped people a new one. I’ve drafted unemployment appeal letters ripping people apart. It’s a gift I suppose. So now, I’m putting them on notice. It’s the first time I hear my kid isn’t doing well enough to the point of failure. That’s not funny to me at all. So knowing the kids abilities I outlined a letter: 


A few years ago I took philosophy. The interesting thing is that we got to watch The Matrix. Yes, the movie with Keanu Reeves. I had watched it before but I’ll be honest, I didn’t really watch it. When I took philosophy however, it turned everything in my life on its head. One of the first questions I had pertained to religion. I actually started asking why was I even following this? The words of a man written 80 million years ago. More importantly, the question of who said things were the way they were and why did we listen blindly to this person or people? There is a scene in the movie where a sea of people wearing black suits is stomping it’s way to work. I deciphered this as a two part message. The first, the corporate robots, the second aimed towards the sheep all following one another blindly.

I began to question everything. I couldn’t answer to myself why I believed in God. Was it because I was told to believe? Was it because I needed to believe? I don’t say this in a blasphemous manner, but I am expressing my feelings after taking philosophy. I felt as though I had blindly followed the catholic religion, practiced it without once asking well why and who said and why do we listen. Who decided who the protagonist would be in this story and that anything that went against said protagonist was wrong? I admit that my faith in a higher being has kept my head above water. Then again, I believe that we all need hope. Without hope we are lost. People have killed over religious beliefs and have been killed over beliefs. I guess at this stage of my life, I am still not all together. I don’t have any of the answers. I know that people will make you think that by 30 you should have your life together and that includes your beliefs. But life is not a straight line. Its not as simple as a straight line. You get curves, you get surprises, and sometimes you just don’t have it all together. That’s okay.

Today, I still question things. I try to live my life being the best that I can be. A lot of times I fail and I’m an epic bitch. But, when I can I do the most good that I can do for society and others as a whole. When my ticket is punched one day, all I know is that maybe I will have to face the man upstairs. When I do, I want to be able to say to him, I tried. Maybe it wasn’t my best effort ever, but for me I tried to be the best person I could be which sometimes is a challenge unto itself.

My nephew..

When I was younger I was a spark. I’ve once described myself as the kind of spark that is beautiful from afar but scary up close. In my heyday, those words were no exception. Growing up, I had an older couple that I called my aunt and uncle. From time to time, I lived with them and sometimes took care of the children. One time I was about 19, I was babysitting the 1 or 2 year old babies. The other kids had gone to school and the oldest had to get ready for school. I remember that I knocked on his door but he gave me a hard time. 

At some point, this so called nephew of mine decided he wasn’t going to school. He was about 15 at the time. He proceeded to tell me to watch my back. Let’s stop here a moment. Kids say all sorts of crazy things sometimes and people react in different ways to these kinds of threats. Some people ignore, some people lose their shit. I lost my shit. For me, I’ll explain how I reacted. I remember that it was like switching on the lights. As he proceeded to walk himself outside I ( all 5’4 of me) chased him with a dining chair held upside down in the air while running where I was going to beat him with it. I wound up tripping over the chair that I was carrying, falling on it and breaking the leg. In a fit of rage, I tried to beat him with the leg of the chair. Mind you, this is all happening outside in broad daylight. In hindsight, not my most shining moment in life. Then again, we laugh at it now and that was the last time he ever talked back to me again. Even today, we still laugh about it now that he’s a grown ass man. He often chides me and asks if I’m going to chase him with anymore chairs. Of course, I also had to explain to my aunt and uncle why they were missing a dining room chair.. which was about as fun as a root canal. Chair aside, this is one of those cringe worthy moments of stupid shit you do when your young..