Optimism in 2015

I feel an energy for 2015 already.  I have said many times over the past few weeks that I am done with 2014.  I'm just done.  It was a challenging year in terms of career and finances.  I know some people think my looking at horoscopes is a crack-pot thing to do.  But life is hard.  I think any little tool that can really help you manage life is at least something to be noted.  And even if I read them, it doesn't mean the be-all end-all.  If I thought for one second that they were true to every single person we would all be classified under 12 categories only, ever. Please. I have more intelligence than that.  But they are fun to read. 

Mostly what I've read for 2015 so far states that I will be emotional.  I will be more focused if I can avoid emotion taking over.  It's a good time to learn.  Love will grow deeper this year (and also, I will reunite with an old flame, that I should be wary of, because it will be fleeting.) Career will require a lot of hard work to be noticed for advancement; possible career change.  Family will have struggles over someone leaving home; family growing closer in the second part of the year.  Finances will continue to struggle but pay off greatly in 2016 if I do the work.  And funny enough, these are most of my goals this year.

1) I am going to go back to school this year.  I am going to bust my ass to forward my education.  I'm getting old, people.  I need to shit or get off the pot.  Either I move forward, or I settle into this life of not enough money to live comfortably and rethink everything that I've moved toward thus far.  I finally see the value in myself getting an education.  The best part is, combined with my experience, it will make me a serious competitor for any job in my chosen field.  (I'll write more of that when things start moving.)

2) I am going to kick my finances in the ass.  Enough of borrowing from Peter to pay Paul.  I need to make huge changes, but running from it certainly won't solve a damn thing.  It's scary, and it's probably going to hurt, hit me hard and freak me the hell out, but again, I am not getting any younger.  I have my literature and a game plan.  Watch out- I'll make it, yet!

3) I am going to work hard at my career.  I don't want to find a new job, but you never know what may come to pass.  I have seen some things over the last few months that make me question a lot about where this company is headed.  Can I get on board with it?  I think maybe I can.  Unless I'm nothing more than a woman trying to play in a pool of men.  I work in a man's industry.  The inequality I am seeing (in many industries, not just mine) between men and women makes me sick.  We are either equals or we aren't.  It's 2015, not 1907, for the love of- WHY must women be faced with lesser treatment (mostly in the paycheque/bonuses realm) in the workforce all the time???  I don't want to look for another job... but I do need to make more.  I'm either getting fairly compensated or moving on...

4) I will continue to meditate to keep my emotions in-check.  I will take time to focus on me to better myself physically (health and well-being), intellectually (education) and spiritually.  I will take the time to exercise, eat well, continue writing and learn. 

I feel a growth year for me.  I am optimistic, but for the first time, very calculated and focused on doing this the right way and less by way of emotion.  Sometimes I think I'm a bit of an emotional junkie.  I love the feels.  I am elated at the highs and I curse the lowest of the low, forcing myself to be strong; that this too shall pass.  Maybe by taking a more pro-active approach to life it will set me on a more stable path.  We all have our own journey.  Maybe to the 'sensibles' out there, I seem like a late-bloomer.  I am not sensible.  I never have been.  I am a late-bloomer; I sometimes feel like the last person to realize the big 'click'.  It doesn't make me less of a person.  It only reaffirms my belief to always grow.  Always feel the changes in your life and always learn.  Always strive to be more.  Wishing you each a year of growth and strength.

Is Santa Real?

As it is Christmas Eve and I am actively not working (but making required appearance in office while I sip Coffee and Bailey's and eat homemade shortbreads at my desk while blogging) I was flipping through Facebook and saw "How You Were Rudely Told Santa Isn't Real".  It inspired this piece because it's always a dilemma as parents how to eventually tell our kids the truth.

Firstly, it's not a lie.  I mean it is... but I take it as an okay lie.  Christmas is magical.  No matter how old or young someone is, we all still look at the sky and secretly hope to see that glimmer of light sweep the sky and think it's the man in the red suit delivering toys to all.  I understand not everyone can be so lucky... but there are an awful lot of generous people out there who buy toys for the less fortunate too.  Toy Mountain, Adopt-a-family, food banks, churches and community associations, and even years ago when I was a waitress at Boston Pizza, we had a tree at work with names & ages of kids who needed something/anything; pull a tag, drop off at restaurant by the 23rd.

When I was 9, my sisters and I got Cabbage Patch Dolls from Santa.  Only, this Santa didn't come down our chimney.  He came to our door  after church, while we were awake!  And he was tall and not fat, but to this day my parents don't know who it was.  We were on welfare that year as my parents both went back to school.  I remember that being a very generous Christmas.  We had so many presents.  We even got Mr. Professors!    (Does anyone remember those?  "Leap-pad" learning circa 1986).  But I do remember Mom and Dad telling us how generous people had been to help us have a nice Christmas.  It was a special year; it was then and it always held strong in my heart too.

When I was 10, my mom took me away for a girl's weekend.  She let me wear make-up and showed me how to apply it properly, and I got the talk about the birds & the bees (delivered by audio-cassette; I was the oldest!  I was the guinea pig!  I bet to do it over, she would cringe, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Mom- I swear, that isn't a jab.  You did your best; I know it.) and we spent time being mother-daughter one last time before I turned into a hideous teenager.  It was a perfect weekend.  But I asked about Santa that year.  If I remember correctly, we went on my 10-trip just after Christmas (because my birthday is right before).  That year, we had gone out to one of the surrounding reserves and I found a pair of beaded earrings that I loved.  I had just got my ears pierced for my 10th birthday too!  On Christmas morning, there they were under the tree.  I thought it very odd Santa would have known exactly to stop in at the store on the reserve for those exact ones; and I had been recognizing my parents' writing on the tags for years.  They used to say they left out the paper and the tags out for Santa to save him time.  I digress... I asked Mom about Santa.  I think she asked me why I would ask.  But I remember noting that I was afraid if I didn't know the truth, my kids someday wouldn't get presents because I'd be waiting for someone imaginary to bring them.  She told me then about the magical feelings people get over Christmas and told me Santa lives in each one of us.

A couple of years ago, the whole family was at my parents' on Christmas evening, just cleaning up from dinner when the doorbell rang.  My sisters and I and Mom were up to our elbows in dishwater and loading the dishwasher and putting food away.  We just all looked at each other thinking it was very odd to have anyone come calling at that hour.  My niece and I went to the door where we caught a glimpse of a white vest and dark, long hair under a santa-hat and then she vanished into the darkness, leaving a huge, red sack at the door.  I looked for tail lights and my niece swore she saw the end of a santa-sled taking off down the road.  Right away, my youngest sister Katrina was "the one who did this" (by the guys who were elsewhere in the house- blame the dark hair :) )... but she had been in the kitchen with us so that wasn't the case.  Dad has always loved Christmas and the magic and mystery of Santa and to this day is like a little kid about his giving and receiving (which is the most endearing thing; it's hard NOT to get wrapped up in magic!)  So, we naturally thought this was a Dad-thing to do.  He profusely denies it.  Katrina is his elf though... the gifts were so personal and exact though.  Santa had made an appearance, and were in wont of nothing this time.  We weren't in financial troubles, we were all gainfully employed, we were all already spoiled that year...so it remains a mystery. 

I do know, what little I might have, somewhere there is someone out there needing/wanting something.  I try to do one small present a year for someone.  Sometimes it's an adult at a shelter who asked for a pair of mittens or a pair of warm socks.  Sometimes it's a child who might not get a "Santa" present; last year, we brought a Christmas tree to someone who didn't have one.  This year, broke as I was, I made cookies for someone who will be alone this Christmas.  It was all I could do, but hopefully it made them feel like they aren't forgotten.  That's Santa. 

Don't forget to believe.  The more you believe the more you have to share it with those around you.  Don't grow up about Santa.  He may not visit 3 billion kids in 24 hours, but the Santa Trackers and NORAD and letters to Santa and now what... can you Skype with Santa or something like that (my kids are way past that)?  All these cool little things help our little kids believe in the magic.  And that's important.  It helps instill in them to keep the magic going as adults. 

Merry Christmas to you and yours and may you spread joy and love and Santa-magic to everyone you meet. 

I Should Be Sleeping

Hi Friends, I know, I haven't written in a while. I get upset with myself when that happens because it is such an outlet for my scattered thoughts.  To be very honest, I haven't been in the best space, and it's something I wanted to go through on my own.
But you know what?  I'm good now.
I have said more than a few times, that once you experience happiness, you need to fight to keep it.  I can honestly say that the only thing I have fought harder for are my children.  My happiness is my peace is my sanity is my need to survive is my need to keep going; so don't f*ck with my happiness.  And yeah, it was f*cked with.  Not by any one circumstance but by a plethora of upset apple carts along my journey.  I just felt badly about myself.  One day I didn't like my hair, or another day my ass was too big, or those jeans were too small because now I'm fat. (And don't.  I weigh probably 35 lbs more than I did 2 years ago and for me, I don't feel good about it, so none of this 'you aren't fat' crap, please.  I can't tie my shoes without cutting off my air supply; I'm too fat for me. K?)  Or I want contacts again or better still, Lasik but eff that- I need 4500$ to even consider that and I can barely afford gas cuz my f*cking rent is stupid-high and now my once-nice car is all pelted in hail damage because I have to pay an additional amount to be privileged to not park 2 blocks from my own home when I have 17 bags of groceries, only 2 hands and still have to fumble against 2 doorways, keys, an elevator, another door, key-fob, another door and a dog who needs to pee and bloody hell, now so do I...F*@(%)#!!!!!!!!  I still have to pick up X from A, drop X off at B, race home, make dinner, change, run to Boyfriend's and be girlfriend of the year AND look hot doing it (except I know I have a nasty muffin-top going on right now), then I gotta pick up X from B and get home and I didn't get to work out or go for a run or get gas cuz I'm running on fumes and BAM- sleep.  No happiness for me today. I tried to find little pockets of time for me, but this has been my life for months; day in and day out.

The last few weeks, I have sort of been able to sort things out a little better.  I make time to go for a walk, even if it's just 30 minutes.  And tomorrow, I will do it again, and squeeze in some quiet time for me.  And the day after that, I feel like I might be able to work it to 45 minutes, and call the last 15 minutes my re-group time (2 birds with one stone.  See what I'm doing here? Yay me!) Now I have time to really be with Boyfriend rather than in a scattered state where he feels the tension and thinks he's done something wrong. And when it all gets to be too much, I close my bedroom door and be with myself and meditate for 15 minutes.  And a week after I do all that, those little things just incorporate into my day.  The busy falls away and the quiet and steady sets in.  And slowly, I feel my light growing again, strong and bright and radiating peace and love and happiness.

My dad has referenced our noisy lives in his blog; http://www.nurturespirit.ca/why/.  That blog entry specifically hit me hard, because of what my son went through, just over a year ago.  Daddy-O made reference to youth, but I think it applies to all of us.  My favorite line of that entry reads "Please help us Jesus, some things we are doing are not working."

I don't care about your religious preferences nor do I want to argue about who's God is real or not real.  It's the cry out for help.  Faith is faith whether you believe in Allah or Jesus or God or Aliens or are agnostic. But in losing my happiness along the way, I had to cry out to my faith (I think my strongest link is my Guardian Angel; that Angel has my back, man. Every. Single. Time.) because what I was doing was not working!  You know that feeling too.  I know it is so hard to let go and have faith it will turn out alright.  But somehow, beyond our control, our prayers, or calls for help or whatever, are heard.  All you have to do is ask.  Ask the Universe!!  Put out that change of energy.  Ask God for help.  Do some creative visualization, but it always comes back to faith.  

Anyway, I digress.  My point is, happiness is starting to return.  I hope to be back blogging.  I should be sleeping so I guess it's time for a sleep meditation.


   

This Is where I Insert 4 Letter Words

I have not been actively blogging, and it's because I'm laying low.  I'm in transition with my life and I need to work on myself and do some discernment on myself.  As with every transition in my life, my therapy is writing and I've had enough of the baffled and disoriented mass of thoughts in my mind.  

I wish I had a clear plan as to what my life would be.  As a kid, my sister would come home from school, play 'school', and over summer vacations, would play 'school', and she knew all her life what she wanted to be.  She knew what she wanted out of life in general and she married fairly young and while I know her life isn't perfect, it seems so.  She went to university, married, became a teacher with a specialty in Special Needs.  She has 3 beautiful children and a nice home and 2 cars and is still married (which, knowing the rate of divorce, good for her!)  Now, I'm not saying her life IS perfect, or that she hasn't busted her ass for everything they have or that a healthy marriage is easy, but is is a very different path than I've chosen.  

And that's the clincher, right?  The path that I've chosen.  Most times I don't really feel like I've been in full control of my life.  I just kind of float along, making the best decisions I can with the tools, resources and information that I have and hopefully land in the right place.  I have made so many mistakes, it's really rather amazing I am where I actually am.  I could have very easily ended up in a 750$/month slummy basement somewhere, working a shit job and not have anyone in my life; no partner, no kids, probably a few cats.  I knew I wanted more from life though, and I guess that's a good thing.  But ask me what I want to be when I grow up; I still can't tell you.  And um, I'm pretty sure I am getting to be too old to say "when I grow up".  By all intents and purposes, I am a grown up.  I have a son graduating high school this year, I've been married, I've been common-law, I've been divorced (twice-ish, if you consider ending a common-law relationship) I've been a home owner, I've had a few very successful careers already... I mean, really.  I'm a freakin' grown up.  

So why do I still feel like that feather that is floating on the breeze?  I lose interest in things so easily. I have wanted to 'be' everything.  A police officer (but I backed out after the lie-detector questionnaire- no one needs to know that much about me, and I honestly have little to hide, but wow, the questions where too weird); a nurse (but I didn't want to deal with barf and bodily waste), a paramedic (but the shift work/husband schedule didn't work with 2 small kids); a teacher (but no passion- I just liked the idea of same schedules as my kids); a business exec (but a b.comm bored the crap out of me); a forensic investigator (no money for school); a store manager at The Brick (I was everything but... and I didn't like being bitched at all day); a life coach (but does anyone take that shit seriously?); an esthetician (not enough money in it); pub owner (I've done the waiteressing gig and discovered I don't want to make a living off of drunken idiots); a recruiter for a head-hunter agency (no education for it, no $ for education)... I mean the list goes on.   

Oh, what is my passion?  Writing, of course.  Can I live off of my stories?  Doubtful.  What is my passion? Skiing.  But the last I heard, unless you're running the joint, there isn't any money in that either.  Find what you love and find a way to capitalize on it.  As if it were that easy.  I'm a single mom.  If I don't pay the bills, who's going to?  It's nice to have a passion and dawdle through it and be happy with your job/life, but the reality is, if I'm not clearing 50k/year, I'm probably going to be that slum-dog with 14 cats and because I am following my passion, I need to drag my kids down with me to a cat-pee-smelling hole.  But at least I love what I do!!  I mean, really?  Really?  Is that what it is??  I have no money for start-up costs, or time off to follow my dream or live in a fantasy.  I live in the real world where rent on a 2 bedroom place is upwards of 1500$ for anything remotely nice.  I don't live in some cheap housing market, I live in Alberta, where the money is in Oil & Gas and where grocery prices and gas prices get jacked up daily and where if you make less than 40k/year, you're eating dog food and don't own a car and maybe even have room mates.  Too bad I didn't love numbers and math and science.  No, instead I love the not-for-profit words and outdoors and crap.  

Augh, I dunno.  What is passion?  What is necessity?  What defines job satisfaction?  Why is the rat-race the only way to make a comfortable living?  Why don't I know what I want to be when I grow up?  

I am going to go to bed and meditate tonight.  Surely, some clarity should come to me sooner or later.  The path is probably there; it's just more like finding it in a dense, remote rain forest.  That's right; I'm unable to see the forest through the trees.  Pass me the machete... I gotta dig myself out.  

Cosmic Shift? Or Is It Something Else?

What is going on?

I read my friends' statuses.  I talk to my family.  My inner circle of friends all seem to be in the same boat. The stress that we seem to be under is crippling.  The strongest people I know are cracking under the pressure.  What the hell, man?

We all seem to be vibrating, as a society, and don't tell me it isn't compounding to the energies around us. We all have an energy about us and so many of us seem to be in a bad space right now.  And not just a "bad space" but at very real breaking points.

I understand that we all have bad days; sometimes a few in a row.  But when you call a friend, crying; when you consider quitting a rewarding job; when you consider ending a marriage or a long-term relationship; when you start asking the question "what is it all for" and you can no longer find the answer and when that comes from nearly everyone you talk to...you gotta wonder if there is more at play here than a bad day.

I don't want to list names, or air anyone's laundry, but each person I have interacted with over the last few weeks has a level of anxiety about them, that is not character of their nature.  Even I am experiencing levels of anxiety (which I usually have no tendencies toward) over the most mundane things.  I feel for us all.  Life is too short to feel crippled by anxiety, fear, stress and feeling not in control of our lives.

I'm going to sound like a New Age freak here for a second.  Bear with me:
The Year of the Dragon, back in 2012, was a life-changing year for me.  I am, in Chinese astrology, a Dragon.  It was a year of growth and confidence and kickin ass and takin names.  It was a year of many successes, though not without hardship and a year of moving forward.  I think the years your sign aligns with you, are very positive.  Now, I'm not an astrologist and I don't believe the cosmos are the be-all-end-all. They're very vague but I do think they can serve as an idea of where things might go.  That's not my point, though.  My point is that I read this stuff every year.  For example, I was reading this year a bit about the year of the Horse and how it might affect the Dragon.  And I read different things and pulled the common threads.  I also read about Sagittarius in 2014 from numerous different sources, pulling common threads again.  I also read about Cancer and Pisces, and Leo and Aquarius; all of them.  I want to know about my relationships around me.  I always look up Sagittarius and Cancer together, because of myself and T.  And it's also fun to look at it from my sister's perspective, because her relationship is also Sagittarius-Cancer.  I look up my sisters, their spouses, my parents, my kids, my close friends and T.'s mom.  I digress.  The common threads that showed up in a majority of my readings was that the first half of this year, regardless of what sign you are, in what culture you look at, (Indian, Chinese, Greek, whatever) is going to be hard!  And again, let me just state the fact that I am not crazy and I really don't put a lot of weight into this, but I think it is both interesting and highly ironic that a great many publications listed the common thread that the first few months of this year (regardless of sign) were going to be a struggle.

Personally, I don't wake up thinking "Day  38 of 181...143 to go before we have improvement!  Yay!" Frankly, the above is a perception and not an educated explanation.  Astrology to me, is interesting, but I have not the time nor the money, nor ambition enough to call myself an astrologist or a psychic or anything like that.  But if you believe in the energies of positive and negative and putting energies into the Universe and feeling the energies of those around you, isn't it all that more reason to keep your own energies positive?

Be good to yourself.  Meditate and center yourself.  Cleanse your spirit.  Surround yourself with positive people and positive things.  Light a candle or burn some oil or light some incense.  Put your phone on silent and leave it in the car for an hour while you take some time for yourself.  Lock yourself in a room or in the bathroom and take a bubble bath, with some soothing music or a good book and spend time recharging. Feel yourself breathe and exhale all tension and negative thoughts and brain-noise, and inhale nothing but positive thoughts.  Relax your furrowed brow, release the shoulder/back tension and go limp.  Cry if you want.  Hum to yourself if it makes you feel better.  Let yourself be present in the now.  Remember you are loved.  And then emerge, refreshed and go have a glass of wine.  Or a bottle... who am I to judge?

The Inner Tigeress - She Roars, But Isn't Heard

She's in there.  She's been circling for months, cramped up and yearning for her freedom.  She roars loudly from time to time.  Other times she sits, on the lookout, unhappy and twitching her tail.  She gets small pockets of freedom where she can frolic and play but just as quickly, she is locked up again.  She doesn't sleep - much.  She doesn't eat - much.  She sustains herself enough to keep going, but she's starting to shut down.

She's my inner tigress.  I love her, but she annoys the crap out of me.

When she's restless, it's all I can do to keep her sane.  

I'm breaking.  

I write a lot about being happy, and as of late, I am only going through the motions.  I'm upset that my happiness has been compromised.  I want it back!  It's mine.  I worked for it!  I purged myself of things that held me back from experiencing happiness.  The proverbial wall; it came down in a mess of rubble and I washed it away in the waves of the ocean.  I transformed!  I overcame my grudges and jaded outlook and baggage and I rose up to embrace love and peace and joy and everything good!  

I remember looking around the room at a company meeting and looking at each face, observing their state of happy.  For some, it was there.  For others it was there mostly, but for the time being was interrupted. Others had no idea what it was.  Their lines were drawn hard on their faces around their mouths and eyes.  I thought to myself, 'I don't want that to be me.  Ever.' and vowed it wouldn't be.  

Maybe my happiness is interrupted, and that's it.  But interruption shouldn't last months and months. No, after that long, it's been compromised so you need to take a long hard look at where it happened and can you fix it and what you need to do to move forward.  I have watched people over the years sacrifice the important things for material things and I might be a hippy when I say this but, what for?  Can we be buried with riches?  Can we be buried with monetary successes?  Who wants to die lonely?  Will it matter if you go to the grave in Chanel or a gold-plated casket?

I want love.  I want my children to know that I worked hard, and gave them all I could.  I want to have my home; not my car and a suitcase.  I want to be able to make a Thanksgiving dinner for my friends and family to enjoy together (which I have been robbed of for the last two years; not that I'm bitter or anything.)  I want to support my kids by being there; not throwing money at them.  

I don't know what I want.  But I do know, happiness is high on the priority list.  

I can hear her, roaring loudly.  I don't know if anyone else can, but it resonates with me.  If she keeps this up, it's another sleepless night.    

Thanks to a long lost, very dear friend of mine who commented months ago, a comment that I only just received today, about how much she liked reading this blog.  Inspiration can come from the most unexpected places, and that's why I write.  You know who you are, G.  I appreciate that you contacted me after many years, to tell me that.  Thank you.

Hope For The Human Race....?

Dear Teens of Today:
"Yo dawg, you down to hang wit dem niggas 2nite?  We be like yachts n shit n gettin messed."

This.  This is the language coming from a pansy-assed, small-town, 15 year old white kid who think's he's gangtsa.

Really?  I mean, c'mon, really?  You little "gangsta-thugs" have NO idea what it's like to live a g-life.  None. There are no "gangs" in our small town.  And unless you're involved in a gang in the big city, you sound like an idiot.  But you're not.  Because I've seen the juvenile crap you do and you all think you're hot shit until the hammer comes down.  God forbid your parents (who have seemed to checked out of your life completely, because why else would they allow such stupid, offensive, disrespectful children to run around like they do) actually stopped paying for everything in your life and handing you money to go and buy weed, and coke and whatever else you're trying to fuck yourself up on.

You go ahead and keep thinking you're the next big hustla (which, really, you barely have a clue what that means) to walk the big, mean streets of A-Town.  That's the thug life, right there.  Girls using abortion for birth control at the tender age of 16 and screwing around with 20-something men.  (They are pervs, girls. Pervs.  They don't want to be a baby-daddy and you are just a notch in their bedpost.  But, they're probably a notch in yours too so...good on ya for sleeping with 37 boys at your age.)

Those.  Teens.  Make.  Me.  Sick.  Really.

I'll tell you what, kids; all your little idols- The Biggies, the Tu-Pacs, the Eazy-E's, Mr Cee, Bugz, Freaky Tah, all of them and countless others; do you know where they are?  Dead.  Gone.  Shot.  Because they couldn't turn their lives around.  Oh they tried.  They had some good music released that, at the time seemed like they knew something the rest of us didn't, and we looked at them as inspiration.  If that is your inspiration, I urge you to think again.  Think.  Use your brain, not your herb.  Because the rest of them?  Ice-T, Ice Cube, Dre, Eminem, 50Cent, Snoop and all the other once-bad ass original G's turned their lives around.  Why?  Because G-life gets you nowhere!  It gets you dead by 30.  ("but dawg, I don't see myself after 30.  I just think I'll be dead by then."  Yeah bro, we all thought that.  You aren't the first one, and won't be the last to think that.) There is more to life than the first 18 years; wayyy more.  But you can't see it because you're blind!  And it's okay!  You are a teenager! You aren't supposed to know what is going to happen after high school.  All you need to know is that it gets easier; much easier than making the bad choices.  Bad choices will kill you, eventually.

Work hard at being someone to admire instead of someone to be scared of.  Because one day, the nerd who sits behind you in science might be your boss, and won't give a crap that you might pound the shit out of him; he'll just fire your useless ass.  And his girlfriend will be hot.  Yours will be missing teeth because she likes to smoke meth.  That girl in the corner with her nose in a book will be admired for her strength, and when she becomes comfortable with who she is, she'll be a knockout, with brains and money and will be far too good to waste her time with a bad-boy who will only bring her down.  The girl with her head in her book isn't using abortion for birth control either so, maybe the slutty one could learn a thing or two about self respect from her.  She won't need to end up like you, dependent on some lazy, fat dude who makes 20$/hour trying to support you and 3 kids because you've only learned how to fuck, not make something of yourself.

It starts with how you carry yourself.  Pull up your pants.  Quit mumbling.  Speak English.  G-talk isn't real, worth while or a language.  Same for you ladies; except make a guy work for it.  No man needs to validate you.  All kids need to stop posting 1/2 naked selfies.  You're kids, actually.  The world doesn't consider you an adult until you're 18, or 19, or 21.  If someone wants your body, that's it.  If someone wants all of you, it's respect.  Respect, yeah, that term you all throw around like the world owes you something.  No.  You earn it.  By respecting yourself.

At the rate kids are going these days... I wonder what the world will look like in 30 years.  I shudder when I see them walking around the street.  This is our future.