Intuitive Navigation System

Sometimes it takes watching the lives of others unfold to finally realize the patterns in your own, and what things mean. We receive intuitive guidance almost non-stop. It is learning to pay attention to it and recognize it for what it is that is key.  For the last few years I have been doing dream interpretation and other readings for my friend Chris.  It is really easy to see where others need help in their lives, but not always in our own.  So what inspired me to write this blog was one of our recent conversations.  He has been having some really clear dream messages coming through.  For the last few years he has felt the urging to be more.. do more... with his life.  The general underlying theme is dissatisfaction, and not knowing which steps to take to get out of his own way.  He sent me this dream today, and I love to give him hell and ask him if he honestly needs me to interpret it, because it's just that obvious.  But like I said, when we are in it, we can't recognize the forest for the trees.  

So his dream was this:  "I was at work, it was dark out - and it was storming out - with tornado warnings - everyone wanted to leave but for whatever reason I said let's stay put.  At that point the tornado ripped part of the roof off.  It was scary but I knew we'd be ok.  Afterwards I began working on an invention that keeps roofs on buildings in the event of tornado."

So maybe if you don't know him, you may not get the clarity in it.  But this dream was telling him that  he has been having urges to leave his job, and current city for some time now, but out of fear has been choosing to ignore them.  We get these urges and insights for a reason, and what I've come to realize is that they are there to guide us away from painful experiences, or to get us to where we will be happier, if we will just listen.  This dream was telling Chris that even if he chooses to ignore the tornado warnings, and stay put, ignoring his intuition to move on, the universe will step in and sometimes it's not so pleasant. But that he can turn chaos into creation and use it to better himself. His dream is saying that no choice is wrong.  He will get there no matter what, and will be ok.

I started to think about this and some things that usually go along with not listening to those first urges. We often end up getting angry when the universe steps in, blaming whatever people are involved in the situation making it their fault, when in reality we were being warned!  For instance, I have been involved in a mediumship group for about a year now.  It has had its ups and downs, it's explosions and rebuilds.  I started to feel uncomfortable in the newest group formation and dreaded going.  I wasn't sure why that was because this is one of my passions.  I started to see some things that were going on that just rubbed me the wrong way. It has a tendency to be very clicky.  Everytime I tried to sit down and figure out what it was that was bothering me I would distract myself and go anyway.  I ended up having a doctor appointment and called to cancel group that night because I didn't want to arrive late. And I immediately felt relief.  I didn't pause long enough to reflect on the relief I felt however.  So a few days go by and I start getting this over whelming feeling that I was not going to have friends much longer.  I sat in my bathtub deciding to really get a focus on it.  Where is this feeling coming from? Am I making a certain friend mad?  I went on a walk with my friend Jeff, and as I was telling him this my phone buzzes that I have an email.  When I look, it was the man that runs the group saying that my slot had been filled because I never gave my availability for the month.  Immediately I knew what that feeling was and where it had been coming from.  Little did I know it wasn't to stop there....  I mentioned this to another friend whose paranormal group I was with who happens to be friends with the other. I had a sudden flash that I would no longer be part of this group either.  One week later I was telling my friend that I felt this was going to happen, and when I got home, I had an email from her saying I was not a fit for her group.  When we got into the topic of her paying back money she owes she accused me of being a liar and that the other man had witnessed this as well.  At first I was extremely hurt... then I got mad.

Instead of blasting people which I tend to do when I get angry, I just sat on it.  Something kept telling me that I had been warned.  After the last couple of dream interpretations of Chris's I started really thinking about this as it reflects back in my own life.  I had several warnings to leave both situations, and chose to ignore it, thinking all was ok. It was all in my head.  I had had warnings not to loan out the money. Not just in my head, but others.  I didn't want to lose out on the friendships that I had developed within the mediumship group... and it seems as though that is exactly what has happened.  Due to experiences in my past I go out of my way to be honest, and sometimes it is painful for all involved. Not just the one receiving the honesty, but for myself at knowing that I am hurting someone with that honesty.  I have found that as much as people claim they don't want to be lied to, it seems they in fact do.  I really had to rely on the people that know me well to help me realize that the accusations were just things that may be going on in their lives. It's still hard, because I miss some of those people... but you can't inject yourself where you aren't wanted, and sometimes you may not be wanted because they don't want their own foundations rocked.  I had to really look at this situation, and remind myself that I had wanted to leave because I didn't like the ego, or the clickyness involved.  I watched a cycle of people being in one minute and out the next, and it always made me aware that I could be in the "to go" seat at any moment. So when it happened to me, it really wasn't a surprise.  I helped create the situation to be what it was because I chose not to heed my own inner voice that was warning me.  Hard to be mad at anyone else when you serve yourself up a big piece of humble pie like that.  We often don't take a bite out of that pie however and we just keep blaming everyone else for where we end up.  We have to take responsibility for where we've been, where we are and where we are going at all times!!  

When I think back over my life and how many times I have heard that inner voice, or felt those urgings to do something different, and didn't... I am dumbfounded.  That inner sense is always there.  And it is there for a reason.  Just as Chris's is telling him to let go, that everything will work out and he can go home.... mine is saying it's ok to let go of things that no longer suit me and it will be filled by things that are.  We do it in relationships.... holding on to ones that don't bring us as much happiness as we think we should have. We cling to them until they border on destroying us, rather than just releasing them and allowing their time to come to an end.  We can't really sit on our pity pots wondering how we got ourselves stuck in some really yucky situations when we've had that voice inside us all along pointing out another route.  Some people call that voice God... others their higher self, or intuition.... I will call it our inner guidance system.  Our internal gps meant to keep us safe and happy.  It's not at all like the man made gps system we all use to get us around our city...  the one that makes us go down streets that don't exist or have us end up on the wrong side of town.  Ours knows our true path... it warns us the best way it can.... and if we do end up on the wrong side of town you can bet your hiney that there is something there to be found!  

The more you allow that voice to guide you, the stronger it becomes and you won't be sitting there dumbstruck....  more like awestruck!  How many times have you done something to later kick yourself in the ass and say "MAN if I had ONLY LISTENED!!!"  This like everything else takes practice... and the more you practice the easier it becomes.  You can't change what you can't see... but you can start to notice little bit by little bit.  With light there can be be no darkness...  You may not catch that warning everytime... but you can start by noticing it some of the time.  Who knows where you'll end up and how much heartache you can avoid if you heed its warning!  But even in those painful moments there is much beauty to be learned....  we always always always come out the other side.

Copyright HBoucher2011

Journey Within

I am running the emotional gamut today.  It's funny that I felt like I needed to take a break from a group. And then I received an email saying that my spot had been filled with some bogus excuse.  I can usually tell bs from a mile away.  In a way I felt relieved.  But as so often happens to me... even though I feel it... and know it's better in the long run... even after I've made the decision to call something quits... when I don't do it, and the tables are turned on me and I am then being dismissed I get all crazy. Like there's something wrong with me that I'm being thrown to the trash. What is this about exactly?  So many times I bury what I want because someone else doesn't like it and I fear losing them in the end. Does it really matter what they think in the long run? I need to get down to the nitty gritty of this weight issue. Why I sabotage myself so badly....  and why it is when I am in a relationship that it's the worst. And it's with anything in life. I tend to give up almost before I even begin.  I need to learn my strength... and embrace it. I've lived through some stuff.... and so  may others have been through waaaay worse... but I'm still here... and still learning and still living.  I don't suspect I'll ever have all the answers... but I don't wanna stop trying til I have to.  I have to be here doing something anyway...  or I can always make the choice to wait it out...  I can be anxious about dying by doing nothing... or I can be anxious... and distract myself by actually living... and putting life into my days while I wait.  That bang for your buck phrase comes to mind.  I don't know... I just feel like something big is coming and that I am being prepared for something bigger.  Perhaps it's just for my role in my next life....  or maybe I just need to start acting like it's going to happen tomorrow! Just in case....  I don't wanna waste it and look back thinking wow... all that time I could have been doing something... and now... I can't move from this spot and I have moments left.  I don't wanna be that girl.  It's crazy that I can say... I wanna live.... and in the same breath say, but I don't know how.  Isn't that what we're all doing anyway?  Even if it doesn't look like we're making progress... or succeeding in much... it's not coming packaged in the way we expect. We are all headed in the same direction..to the same destination. We just take different routes.  We get so wrapped up in questioning if we are making the right decisions... but what we fail to realize is we've already made the decision... and are already headed in the right direction.  It all works out in the end even in those brief moments when all hell breaks loose and it looks like it was the absolute wrong choice to make.  In short time we realize in the end that it was ultimately the absolute BEST choice to make ... when we are standing in our glory looking back over the trail we've just blazed.  What if we just entertained the possibility that no choice we ever made could be wrong? Imagine how much anxiety, free time and energy that would free up!  All the things we could get done that we dream of doing... if we knew we could never fail.... not really!  All this stuff rolls around in my head constantly...  and I just wanna be skinny dammit. I don't wanna have to relive everything just to figure out the why of it.  I don't wanna be moving forward while facing backward.  I don't want to make excuses or find reasons... I just want to be.  I find that everything is an excuse anyway...  really.  So.... here I go.  Attempting to lay down all of my excuses...  not care if I have support... because ultimately even that doesn't matter.  I am all the support I need... or I can be all of the excuse as well.  Today my choice is to lay down the swords I've used on myself... and move forward fearlessly.  Not saying that tomorrow or even the next five minutes my courage won't waiver and my decision won't be to hide under my bed...  but for now... in this moment... the one that counts... I am all in.  I'll worry about the next moment when it comes.  You can join me on my journey of real self discovery... or not.  I'm going anyway....  maybe I'll inspire someone else to break free... and just allow themselves to be.  Or... maybe I'll just be writing to free myself.  Whatever it is... well...   it just is, and I am ready to trek up this mountain... so I can see that view from the top!
HBoucher copyright 2011

My Body ~ My Brain ~ My Enemy

Have you ever stopped for a moment to wonder how you developed the feelings you have about yourself?  Usually we just go about our lives, overwhelmed by every moment to really stop and take stock of our thought processes.  Some of us have a real disgust and self loathing toward ourselves, and while we can come up with a zillion reasons why we feel this way, we rarely question the logistics of it. 

Being an empath sometimes can be overwhelming in itself.  You don’t know if you are feeling your own stuff, the person sitting next to you, or someone fifteen states away.  Again, we do little to process this, taking it on as our own.  We have broad shoulders don’t we? 

When you add these two things together, it becomes an interesting mess! 

I was reading interesting information from Deepak Chopra‘s ‘Reinventing the Body, Resurrecting the Soul,’ and it’s funny that answers always appear when the questions are rattling around in my head.  He was talking about the energies a fetus picks up from it’s mother in the womb, and how a lot of trauma actually begins in our lives there.  Not just from difficult births, but from the circumstances surrounding our mothers at the time of their pregnancies.  Their thoughts, their desires and so on.  I had already had a recent awakening to so many things, but this brought even further clarification to a lot.  Let me explain, and show you how this works, maybe you can find peace in your own life from such clarity.

For as long as I can remember I have always wanted to die.  Even before the age of four years old.  Now, that cannot be normal can it?  For me, that was normal.  I grew up around parents that were always angry.  I watched my mom and my father fight constantly, hitting, and throwing things at each other.  My mom left one marriage and moved in with one angry man after another.  Well, there are two, but how do you word that?  I remember being pretty nervous, always having stomach pain.  Things in an angry household could be fine one minute, then without warning could explode into fists, belts and a barrage of words.  My mother has always been the kind of woman to pull me closer with one hand, while kicking me in the gut to get away at the very same time.  I have never known if I was coming or going, and this has infected so much of my life.  And I say infected, because it’s like a disease that eats away at your spirit when you try time and time again to make your mother love you, and nothing you do is good enough.
I was always told that I was a mistake.  My mom was 15 when she got pregnant, and she never missed an opportunity to let me know how much that pissed her off.  It wasn’t until a recent visit with her that I finally realized just how deep seeded that truly was, and my eyes were opened, and my soul was freed.  I however, carried this belief forward into life with me.  It affected every relationship and interaction with every person I’ve ever had.  I have had this belief that everyone hated me, it didn’t matter how nice they were to my face, they were lying.  If your own mother cannot love you, no one can.  And when you believe something about yourself, you often times end up behaving in ways that create situations in your life to project back to you that belief.  So, people really didn’t like me.  I was lonely, and angry, and bouncing from home to home, living with friend after friend, not able to lay down any roots, the more I hated myself, and the more it proved I was unlovable and unwanted.  You see, when you are told that you were not wanted, planned for and were a mistake, you feel as though you do not have the right to be breathing.  You take this on as your fault. 

I was molested from 9 years old until I was 14.  And while my step father and I are very close now, a lot of people do not understand the how’s and why’s of that relationship.  That is a whole blog to itself, but I will at least say this, that it was because he eventually took responsibility for his actions, and did what he had to to get better.  He does not set anyone else up, or himself for further victimization, and he always treats me with the utmost respect.  I can say to him that something hurts me or bothers me and he really hears me.  So my point in telling you this, is that this situation further proved to me how my existence was a mistake.  From DHS workers involved dropping the ball, to a therapist not reporting the abuse because he was friends with my mother, to my own mother turning her back on me several times.  When she read it in my journal she told me she thought I just enjoyed it and that was why I wrote about it, and then did not talk to me for the entire summer, while the abuse got worse.  Sexually from him, and physically, mentally from her.  I stopped talking, and I stopped telling after I was 9.  What was the point?  I didn’t deserve better treatment. If I did, someone would have intervened wouldn‘t they?

When it all came out at age 14, my step dad denied it at first, scared of jail time.  My mom told me she didn’t know who to believe and that I was destroying the family she’d always wanted.  I cannot imagine anyone wanting that family to be quite honest.  The one thing I remember most about this time was how deeply sad I was, and how badly I wanted to die.  I wished beyond all else that God would just take me from this earth so that my mom could be happy.  I truly believed I was the root of all evil, and the world would be better off.  I still at times fight those demons.  But this has truly been a year of healing.

I have always been a very forgiving person.  Back to being an empath, I’ve always been able to see the pain in the other person and see where they are coming from, and how they could get to whatever point they are at.  I recently started questioning where I got that ability, since I most certainly did not learn that in my household.    There was always jealousy, and judgement about my weight from her, and I turned that hatred against the attention my body got me.  My body was my enemy, because it brought me so much pain.  Now, my body, 100lbs heavier, is screaming at me to come back and to it, and love it the way it never has been. 

A recent visit to my mom, left my soul deeply wounded at first.  But truly her meltdown was probably the most freeing gift she could have given me.  I almost cancelled my trip because I had been sick for a couple of weeks and it was just getting worse.  But we’d seen each other only 3 times in the last 8 years.  Something always happens, and usually I am to blame.  This time however, wracking my brain trying to find a cause for her meltdown the only one I could find was that I was texting a friend that was going through a very hard break up, and keeping in touch with clients as well.  I try very hard to be there always for my friends.  I may not always succeed, but I try.  It wasn’t interrupting us…or taking away my time from her… she was either driving or we were watching tv.  But I was insensitive to her snide comments, that were obviously her attempts at letting me know it irritated her.  Before I go into that, let me tell you about a very eye opening conversation that we had….

She was telling me about her nephew getting his girlfriend pregnant.  She’s still in high school, and he’s graduated.  Sound familiar?  This entire conversation had my eyes wide, and the hairs on my neck at attention.  I listened as she spoke about how their lives were ruined now.  She said that the girlfriend, we’ll call her Mary for the fact I don’t know her name anyway…  that Mary’s life was over, and she wouldn’t be able to go to school or do anything that she had wanted to do.  And the conviction that she kept saying “Her life is OVER” with, was jaw dropping, as I was seeing her as that scared 15 year old girl, and realizing how frightened she was.  Her and my grandmother had always had a strained relationship as well for many similar reasons.  So I am sure she didn’t have any support and truly did feel as though her life was over.  I saw in that very moment where all those feelings I had about myself came from.  She truly did not want me, and blamed me for her life being over.  How could I hate myself at birth when I had barely begun to live?  It was her hatred of me!  With her, she doesn’t ever take responsibility for her actions, or her words….  So I was left to carry the burden of her spreading her legs at the tender age of 15.  I had this mad rush of adrenaline and I simply said to her, “ Many women in worse cases than Mary’s have had babies, and gone to school and pursued their dreams.”  She just sort of paused for a moment, and I’m not sure she really heard what I was saying to her, and she said, “This is true.” 

I was horribly frustrated at her internet dialup connection slowness, cell reception in timbuktwo, and finding out that my husband had spent the cash he had withdrawn, plus some cash in the account he wasn’t supposed to, and left me with $2.11.  I was panicking at how to pay for my luggage since now the airlines have found yet something else to charge for.  When she snapped at me for the third time, I could not take it anymore…and I asked her to please stop, that I was frustrated enough.  I saw the flash in her eyes and I knew the moment she’d been waiting for had arrived.  Then I said, “ You’ve been an ass this whole week biting my head off for nothing.”  Truly… I could have gone without saying it… but I’ve held my tongue my entire life so that she could remain comfortable.  When she called me every name in the book and then some, I could see that she hates me to the very depths of her soul, and in that very moment I realized that all this anger and hatred of myself that I’ve carried these almost 36 years was not mine at all, but hers.  I can still feel my eyes bugging out of my head as I watched her tantrum… listening as she called me an idiot and said I was so immature, and lit up cigarette after cigarette blowing it in my face when she knows I am allergic to them simply because it was “her house”.  I couldn’t pack my suitcase fast enough and get the hell out of there.  That’s all I could think of, and I didn’t care if I had to walk all the way back to San Diego, I was out of there. 

Since then my body has been going through a sort of detox process.  The body is an amazing thing!  My brain is swelling, and a comment from someone I never expected it from was really quite thought provoking.  He said, “ Sounds like someone has been lodged in there and the infection is being worked out.”  And since illness begins with our thoughts, and my thoughts were created as a result of all of this… it made complete sense!  My brain is working all those negative thoughts out of my system!  I’ve never had pneumonia before, and that was what I had when I went out there to see her, and am still getting over… this too makes sense, as my body was ready to process all of this out of my life so that I could finally let go and move on.  An infection of the lungs has to do with deep sadness… and it is ready to be healed! 

I realize that the tone of this blog may sound blaming, and that truly is not my intent.  I do not think that my mother ever set out to believe that her life was ruined or be hurt and angry for her entire life.  I certainly don’t think any of her actions were done purposely.  I just wish that she could take a good look within, and learn how to say that she’s sorry.  Maybe she never will be able to…  who knows.  It used to cut me to the core that she wouldn’t talk to me, and now I find it rather freeing.  I do not have to worry about trying to measure up, or be who she thinks I should be. Or hear the judgment in her tone at whatever it is she doesn’t approve of this time.  It’s only herself she is hurting with her silence this time.  I wish above all else that she would be able to find the freedom from the voices that have held her captive all these years.  The ones that have kept her angry.  This is part of the empathic thing, as I can understand how she got to where she is…  but only she can make the choice to stay there…. Or move on.  I forgive her… but I will no longer play the role of the hated girl for her.  I am far better than that.  Despite what she may feel.  What she feels….  Matters not to me anymore, as I no longer have to feel it for her.  I choose not to.

So, I urge you to really take stock of the worst things you say to yourself repeatedly, and investigate where they truly come from.  Maybe it’s not your mother… or a parent at all.  Yours could stem from one particular moment in your life verses starting in the womb….  This is all for you to figure out.  But I hope this has started you thinking and helps you to find your own peace.  <3

Love this song....
 Wynonna ~ I WILL BE

3 - 18

She stands on the end of the pier staring at her feet...
the water rushing on an endless journey beyond.
It captivates her.
Inviting to lavish in it's tides....
to feel the coolness as it carries her,
anywhere but here.
Her hair dances out beyond,
her aura spreading ever wider...
enveloping her with the love she's dreampt of.
She's wondered at the lives of fish...
and their freedom.
Now she knows...
where the water goes...
It's bringing her home.
Free.
So.... free.


Copyright H.Boucher 2009

Let Fate Be Parted

Come dance within this sphere of love
Let its tentacles draw you in
and entangle you in a web of desire
You dream of rapture....You pray for peace
Let me be the air that caresses your nakedness
You will beg for the softness of my lips
as they graze longingly over your sweet tenderness
Lie still, my love. and let my body cover yours in an instant
its warmth surrounding you
threatening to submerse you fully into ecstasy
Crawl into my arms and let me hold you until fate has us part
and then relive the memory of my love through your dreams..

copyright H. Boucher 2010

Empty

I've noticed that people want to be heard, and to be known, but do not want to hear, or know.

While saying they want to give... they really are just takers.
Perception is colored by learned experience.
In a sea of people... I am invisible.
I am hesitant to expand on life... as it will just be taken from me in pieces.
My soul, fragmented... held together by unseen substance...the rest grasped in others hands.
I linger here... wondering why.
Choosing to wish or hope no longer...
I stagger forth as the animated corpse I have become.
Not only does it rain on the outside...
it is storming on the inside...
threatening to overflow.
You can look at my housing...
but you will never see clearly into my window.

Copyright H.Boucher 2009

MEN-strual Mabel

Sometimes I have to ask myself why I decided to incarnate as a woman in this lifetime.  I think perhaps my soul may have played a trick on me before shipping me here.  My soul, (which for the purposes of this piece we shall call Mabel) was snickering as she kicked my ass through the time warp knowing full well the torture I was to be gifted with.

For years I’ve listened as women complained about one hardship or another of being a woman, and how easy men seem to have it.  I didn’t think anything of it until I sprouted breasts overnight and earned the nickname “Paper Tits.”  Oh Sir Darrin Freeman thought he was some clever coming up with such a spunky name for  my pre-pubescent mounds!  Really, it made me not feel so bad for stepping on his face as he hid under the teachers desk!  This was to be a first of many embarrassments caused by my female bodily betrayal.

Next on the list from dear ol’ Mabel were the horrendous cramps and vomiting that led to a bloody, drooling vagina.  All I wanted to do at age nine was curl up in a ball and sleep… however life demanded I go to school, the land of the never ending teasing, complete with a winged mouse mattress between my legs.  I am not sure what the true purpose is behind the need to have a period along with all its symptoms, other than
God is a male with an evil twisted sense of humor that no one else gets.

Periods lead to temper tantrums, acne, and being grounded until you’re old enough to get the boot out into the “real world.”    Hormones rage and soon you find yourself wanting to dry-hump everything within reach.  And this is where you really find out what a cruel joke it is to be sent to earth as a female!   Boys are given wet dreams as their coming of age gift.  They get to have hot sexy dreams, perhaps grinding their lil ol boners into their mattress, and wake with an ooey gooey mess in their sheets.  We get the periods, with all the madness they entail for the next 30 years, while these bastards experience a little goo in their shorts, and the toe curling orgasm as well!  Great planning Mabel!  Did I mention I think Mabel is a man?

Periods also lead to wardrobe malfunctions of all sorts.  From making the mistake of wearing a pad with a skirt, and losing it on the stairs only to have a boy corner you and offer it back with sheer secrecy and sweetness, (not my story, but one I have heard over the years) to being the pitcher in a kickball game with half of the entire gym class behind me seeing the big redspot in my jeans that I was otherwise oblivious to.  Or the lovely white jean catastrophy!  The only time you ever see a male have to plan his wardrobe according to some kind of seepage is when his very smart girlfriend slips exlax into his burrito as a form of revenge for all of Mabel’s abuse!

So as the years go by, and the periods come and go, or not at all in cases such as mine, we find out about all the other little quirks of what being a woman means.  First they get the goo in the shorts, then they get the scoreboard of how many girls they bang, while those girls end up being called a tramp.  Sometimes, they are even called a tramp when they are not putting out at all!  The joys of a double standard at work here.  And as if that isn’t bad enough, women learn that life is all about the penis worship.  Male worship of it, that is.  Women get to go without orgasms, until the guy leaves, anyway.  We learn very well how to take care of ourselves, because otherwise we don’t get a chance to since it’s all over too quickly!  We become fantastic actresses!

I won’t even go into the idiocy of childbirth where women trick themselves into thinking that their insides exploding is a beautiful experience.  Just once I’d like to see a man try to give birth and have his member explode like Elmer Fudd’s Acme rifle!!  Oh the pleasure this would give!

Then, just when you’ve gotten used to rolling with the punches… here comes good ol menopause!!  There’s a reason the joke points out that awful experience has “men” in its title!   We feel like we have a rocket ship inside us preparing to blast off from our ass out the top of our heads.  Yet, it never manages to break out of our hard heads!  Just zips around inside there driving us madder.  We can go from committing large scale terrorist acts to being blubbering babies in two seconds.  Top that one boys!!

Men are said to get better with age, and women are traded in for newer models.  I don’t know about you, but even now that I am 35, I still don’t want to see a pair of old, wrinkly balls!  It’s no wonder they yelp when they sit, their balls are fighting to get away from their ass too!!  They get sports cars when they hit middle age, we get botox and labia lifts!  Yep, good going Mabel!

The only satisfaction I get, is watching mens ears as they become satellite dishes off the side of their heads.  I am able to rest assured that they can tune into Mabel with those things, and then fly their asses back to wherever they came from!

I’m not a man hater.  I am just “post-MEN-strual!”

Mabel, when I get back there, I am so kicking your ass!

Blush No More!

An oldie.. but a goodie! Thought I'd share here!


Today I was thinking about my friends teenage daughter, and how she appears to have gotten through her awkward stage. I was wondering if mom finally sat down and said "ok honey, this is how you apply your make up". Make up application is like a rite of passage for all women. And you either get it... or you just don't... or better yet... you get someone else to do it for you.
This made me go all those years back to seventh grade, and my own rite of passage. I wish I could say I glided through it with ease and grace. But it was more like those stories of starting your period while wearing white jeans and having a cute boy make you aware of this grand joke on women. Yes, this too happened to me. But, that is another story. For now.. I will thrill you all with my "cake-up" skills.
I am not sure where I got the stuff. Where on earth did this shit even come from and how did I of all people end up in possession of it? I had some bright pink blush, and green eyeshadow. Now remember this was the 80's after all.. and bright was in. Although it seems to me the in color was blue then... not at all green. But that, my friends did not stop me!
I sat poised in front of my mirror... carefully eyeballing myself thinkin... "Oh yeah... I can do this... and I will be HOT... and the boys will fall at my feet in awe!"
And so it began. I masterfully applied the eyeshadow... not bad I thought to myself. It was on my eyelids where it belonged. Bonus for me. Then came my only other makeup accessory... the blush. Did I mention it was bright pink?
Let's skip the application details, and get right to the juicy stuff shall we? I boarded the school bus that morning, trying to be confident and beaming. As I looked at the faces... I started noticing these little O's spread through the isles. Jaws were dropping... and I thought... "I'm HOT!" Then I heard some snickers... and I'm not sure what exactly the comment was, but it went something like this... "Did you fall into a vat of makeup?"
That's it... my teenage life was over... my hottness deflated like a hotair balloon gone cold....and I said the only thing I could think of. "No, I have sunburn stupid." Stupid truly is as stupid does... since it was January here in Maine... frostbite would be more likely. But... that little white lie came across my lips so many times that day. Swearing on so an so's life that I in fact was suffering from a supernatural sunburn. And ya know... it only dawned on me just this morning... Why the hell didn't I just go into the bathroom and wash the shit off??? Talk about delayed reactions and hindsight.
So, instead of applying a gentle amount of blush to my cheeks, I had applied it to my entire face. A tanned face always looks better. Although... Marylin Monroe certainly pulled pastey white off quite nicely. This got me to thinking about all the women who use this ridiculous item. What is this stupid stuff called blush? I thought blushing was a bad thing. You get teased for your cheeks turning red! Now we want to go around and fake being embarrassed? As if it's not bad enough that women world over are forced to fake orgasms but now we even have to fake embarrassment about it. We really do get the short end of the stick. ;>)
Now ladies... some of you can really apply just enough and look rather nice. For me... I never have touched the stuff since my supernatural sunburn, and I never will. There are others young and old... that still seem to dabble in the art of blush, and fail quite miserably. You've all seen them. The ones that wear a shade that is fifty-seven shades darker than their own skin, skillfully applied to their so-called cheekbones. Do these ladies even know what the hell cheek bones are, let alone WHERE they are? Some of them apparently don't because they just paint half their face from just above the jaw line to just below their lower eyelid. MmHmm.. some sexy.
Never has any woman ever heard a man compliment her on her blushing cheeks. And honey, they may look at that awesome Hot Rod and think to themselves..."That's a HOT paint job... those SS stripes are AWESOME!" They will not however look at a woman with that same thought. Racing stripes do not belong on a womans face... they belong on a car, plain and simple.
No, it does not look attractive... it looks like clown day at the office.
Football players wear stripes on their face because as they are out there sweating their asses off, the sun glints off their cute lil quarter pounder cheeks and then they are blinded and then tackled by that 400lb burrito! Their stripes look ridiculous, but let's face it.. they are a safety measure. Just as you would'nt see me strap a safety cone on my ass to go walking, you will not see me with SS stripes on my face if the sun is particulary bright and it's 180 degrees out.
So... my last advice on this lovely feau-pax.... if you insist on continuing on in the racing stripe regimine... take your butt to the local salon, and have one of those skilled ladies apply it for you! Don't have the time or cash to do it daily... either throw the shit out forever... or they have this even more idiotic application technique... you can have it permanantly tattooed on! We've grown up with unrealistic soap operas... where the chicks wake up all fresh looking, not a hair out of place after a wild night of passion...You no longer have to get out of bed looking like a bedraggled fraggle, You too can have this look! Hell... you can even have a look of permanent suprise etched into your face if that's your fancy!
But better yet... let's all really be women about this. Be honest with yourselves, and honest with your girlfriends... this shit is just plain silly, and looks ridiculous. We should gather all of these ridiculous shades that you wouldn't even apply to canvas... and send them back to the cosmetic companies COD. Simply put in the return address section... 'Dear Mabeline... now the joke is on you'

Copyright H. Boucher 2009