Thursday, February 11, 2016


Hi Everyone,
I send my love and light your way. I have been working hard and making strides in making healthier and happier decisions. Life has been strange and topsy turvy but it is what it is. I find that I have not been sitting and wondering about my past. I have been seriously working hard on not turning around and wallowing in the crap of the past. FUCK THAT SHIT LOL! I was stuck in that loop for a while but it did me a disservice, puffy eyes, and hurty sinuses. So been there, done that, got the t-shirt, and hell no I will not go back. I've been out and about and that dating scene is brutal. Both sides of the extremes and well all I know it's hard to be out there in this day and age. Funny, I sound so old LOL but really I just feel overwhelmed by all the options and all the people and situations that have left me perplexed. I am an optimistic woman and hell I'll give all sorts of situations a chance. I lived in a bubble for years then jumped into a committed relationship for 10 years and lived in that bubble. So it is my time to live it up as a poor graduate student. I am experiencing taking care of myself and just rocking me. I have a lot to live for and a lot of drive to get there. I want so much for my life, so many adventures to live, and beautiful moments to record in the old noggin'.
I am a pretty intense person, loud, and straight up crazy. But the crazy that fits me. No, not hospital status but really I am just so different and weird than the women around me. I have conversations with myself, have lots of fun playing with Mexican food recipes, nerding out with a mountain of books, dancing with my friends, doing all my work and celebrating with booze or Mexican candy, and hugging stuffed animals. I am driven and have this wonderful fountain inside of me just bubbling over with motivation, energy, and love. All of the people that are important in my life have a piece of my heart. It's been hard and arduous but I am so happy that I have survived and thrived when I thought all the odds were stacked against me. So cliche, but love is real and it's beautiful. Even when it falls apart. I do not regret the love that I have given because I know that I gave the love I have in my heart unconditionally and did not hold back. It's naive and a bit campy but really I cannot regret the love I've given with all I have inside me. This was a turning point. I thought at one point, what the hell is wrong with me? Why am I not in love with this great guy? Then you come to a straight halt and start questioning your capacity to love. I was afraid that I was not falling for someone. It was just not the person that was meant for you. I was looking for safety and just straight up being reciprocating for someone that just treats you really well. I couldn't get over this invisible barrier. There was nothing really wrong with that person but that next step about being into someone didn't happen. Then I seriously got bonked on the head with an anvil from the sky. I was not looking for anything, no boyfriend, no girlfriend, all I was looking for was having a good time being on my own since I couldn't seem to fall in love with a good person. So I figured, fuck, I'm just gonna be single for a while until my heart scabs over and that huge burnt crater refills with scar tissue. I met someone. Totally not on my plan and not really what would fit with this roaming nomadic life I had been living. It was a huge KABOOM! He makes me happy, laugh, and at times want to shake him. LOL don't tell him I said that. But I just figure we all feel that way about our partners. I find myself thinking about him and wanting to make him happy. I find a great deal of this new relationship rejuvenating and inspiring. Other times I find myself inwardly screaming at myself for catching myself fucking doing similar mistakes from my last relationship. I've been so much more alert, alive, and awake, that I am mindful of not repeating past mistakes. I have been able to really check myself before I wreck myself. I already survived that first gnarly fight and I am doing life healthier and happier. Realize that we all make mistakes. Even being passive, ignorant, and in denial all add to our choice of being in an unhealthy relationship. So in my realistic optimistic way of viewing the world I don't want to ever be blamed for "taking over my life and trying to mold me into the man you want not letting me be the man I am." I love enough to know that if he or she does not want me I can let go and let them be the people they want to be without strangling their dreams or aspirations from them. I don't need someone to come to hate and resent me when really you can't hold onto anyone if they don't want to be held. So I love with my heart open because I cannot regret loving whole heartedly. Take it or leave it, I am what I am, and I love with all of me. So I have clear intention to love honestly, respectfully, and with all my being. Be it one day or one billion days I will be honest with my love and also let go when we are not working anymore. This divorce taught me, even if I want what I want, if it is not what they want you begin to crash yourself against a rock. What's your rock? What will you do? It is not easy or painless but all things worth wile are things you work at and if you didn't work hey you gave it the best shot you had. No regrets my friends, I choose to live with a strong and inspiring heart. No one will ever dull my spark, I will fight for what makes me happy and whole, and respecting myself enough to know that I am not for everyone and not everyone is meant for me. So with dignity, respect, and honesty I choose to love the way I deserve to be loved. We all deserve the best we just have to earn it. Ok off to bed and going to dream up some fun and exciting adventures. Peace out home fries! Love, Mucky Molly

Monday, November 2, 2015

Slow Burn

What do you do when you think you're done burning something? You turn the ashes and put out the embers. I have been in a slow burn slash ember stage. If you have ever done any work with grief you know that anniversaries kick your ass. It's true you know, I feel it for reals, this is the real deal on grief. It's about reliving the initial incident. I felt the pain of it slice right through my healed up scars. I relived the first time of everything. The good the bad and the ugly. The question is how do you reflect on 11 years without feeling that painful twinge? I laugh at the ridiculous amount of pain I've known in my lifetime. Not gonna make a laundry list but damn, have I put some miles in.
Honestly my ex-partner was like the fucking icing on the cake. How did I choose him? I tell you it was really love. Like the one that burns bright like phosphorous in water. I was a cloud nine inhabitant. It was all like all I could do was love. I was head over heels. It felt pretty nice honestly. But that's the bitch of it. I remember the good. I want to be angry I want to be in rage. Those feelings are close and near to my heart. I worked off the rage for so many years they were my companions. As I get older I know I cannot be a pissed off teen again. I want to find my life to be happy and be free. But these memories are like sticky spider webs that have been leaching so much out of me. Was I not there? Was I really just a stupid bystander? No, I just wanted it to work and be real.
These embers are killing me, not literally, just emotionally. I thought it was emptied out. Like really all gone but it hurts to have people tell me about their observations and hopes about us two. You smile and nod and agree. That would be awesome to have that relationship work out. Don't get me wrong I'm not having buyers remorse. I do not want him back. He has no room in my world of today. He belongs to his own realm and I my own. When you like someone new and you feel all glowy inside it just works. I want that back. I want to be able to feel all that and not feel like I owe him anything. Why do I even care about how the world feels about this but I am tired of the "I am sorry." Louis C.K. said it best when someone tells you about divorce you don't say I am sorry. It implies you feel bad that their life is now some how shittier. I took this decision with all my heart and soul in it. I did it because enough is enough. You do not go back to someone who uses you to make his life easy to free up time for his extra curriculars. You do make someone's life easier when you love them and believe in their sincerity. Once that is all said and done you have no regrets. I do not. I do not regret my decisions. I do not regret the pain because damn it I needed to learn. I needed to learn some self love and some self respect. I did not have any of those for loving him as much as I did. But I feel like those embers keep burning and burning. No matter how much water I have tossed into the pit it won't stop this burn. I want my life back and all I seem to be doing is getting more and more anger. My rage is feeding this fire. I am the cause of my own pain. He has moved on to greener pastures and he is better for it. He can now be the person he has been hiding under the mask.
But I ask myself why do I still feel this pain? Because it hurts to have loved and have lost. I am letting go. I hurt a lot but it's because you think on the good times. He wasn't all evil but he distilled it to perfection that final year. His theater fell down and I got a full portrait of what he was. But these "good times," the stupid reminiscing has to stop. I do not want his "goodness" leaching out what remains in my heart. That belongs to me. He cannot have my future nor can he have my sympathy. He has my acknowledgment that he did what he did because it was what he wanted. Now that the trauma of the initial unveiling has resettled in my head. I bid you farewell. I am not going to let this fester. You hurt me so much and you tore out that naive young girl with her first love. Now Iam going to find the love I deserve. But right now the rubble from this decimation looks awful. I'm gonna get back to that. I am going to get back to me. The next time I feel glowy inside desreves my undivided attention and a fully reconstructed me. This bitch ain't going down without a fight. Forgiveness is real, I will not forget, this needs to remain sharp in my mind so that my heart can be stronger. Right now my heart is a bit malnourished from this time in my life. I'm beat up and a little rough around the edges so this personal TLC is waht I have to do to get back to my peace.
Peace is what everyone deserves. We are all in this together because the world is made of survivors. We can overcome it all it just takes time. This hollow feeling is that pain, that gushing wound from telling and retelling. Maybe I do need to put it on the internet. Like not just here, but like maybe put an ad in the paper or dare I say it, Facebook? Destiny's Childs song comes to mind, Survivor. LOL silly I know, but now I know about a real honest to goodness about true heartbreak, break ups, and saying goodbye. Any suggestions on how to let the world know? I'm open to it. Not slander or defamation cause I'm better than that. Or do I just find a meme? Anyhow I am gonna sleep as much as I want to wallow I am not gonna let it take over. Know that it hurts, I am human, but I'm gonna mourn with my head held high. This is a pain that slices, dices, and contourts but I am more than my pain. I am more than my trauma. But I need to scoop myself off the floor for a bit and re-insert my innards.
bitches be crazy

Monday, October 26, 2015

Day of the Dead - Dia De Los Muertos

Day of the dead or dia de los muertos is not just about one specific day out of the year. I am Mexican and the tradition goes that we celebrate for a week, each day being specific to a certain group of people, (i.e. saints, children, and so forth). But during this time of the year it is time to celebrate death. See I grew up unafraid of death. We were told and raised to believe that passing on was the end of the physical suffering and time to party on for eternity. Us, Mexican's, we know how to party hard. My pops used to say, we are all meant to die, when it's your turn, it's your turn. So as morbid as this sounds, I knew I could die at a very young age. So, you know that idea, "teach the kids about it and they won't do it?" Well, I feel that, that may have some merit. I learned about my mortality at a young age so being alive was not taken for granted. Mind you I may not be well adjusted but I have a strong respect for life and for death.
On this special time of the year we celebrate death being part of our lives. That death comes to all and is the great equalizer. Even in death we are all the same. So in the festivity of the times it is time to mourn not just the passing of my loved ones but for the small deaths that have forged me. We call these small deaths by many names, like: break ups, heart break, regrets, mistakes, and learning the truth to unveil the lies you've lived by. I mourn many losses, many of them gut wrenching. But learning the feel of this pain makes you know you are alive. I did not live these things in vain, I was meant to learn from these events. Well, memo received. My eyes are wide open. I am alive, I am not defeated, I will not lay down and "take it," and I get to start over. This death has given me the opportunity to start over again.
Farewell old me, like a snake that drops its skin, and remains the same snake. I fell in love, head first,  full blown, and a punch to the kisser. I loved and I lost. I do not regret because I gave all of me. But in the famous words of Einstein, "doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result is madness." (I may have misquoted but you get the gist). So I did what I could over and over again to get him to love me above all others and it did not work. He never left me but he was on lease the whole time. He was following an impulse far stronger than what I could give him and I lived with this. Something was off the February before my marriage and I let myself stay because "if I loved hard enough," I would be enough and he would grow out of it, shake it off, or those things were all just pre wedding jitters.
First of which my dears we are all enough. Every flaw every crack or tear we have we are all enough we just have to believe in ourselves first.
I lay you to rest, the last ten years of my life were not all bad so I will commemorate the good and let that pain of the hurt fade. Goodbye ex-husband. The scars are a good reminder that this did not kill me. With time this will fade but I will remember every gory detail. The pain will subside but the memory must stay vivid in my mind so that I will not fall into another self made trap. This is now a day of remembrance. First year without you, first year of being soley being me, first year proving to myself I can, and the first year of my next chapter. With all this death I burn away the pain and the parts of me that are no longer "me." Burning down to the core of what I really am. I am a healing inspiring powerful joyful woman of light. Birthed from Mexican roots to be born in what once was Mexico. I am a child of this earth that was given the spark of life that makes me, me. I am crazy in all the ways that are perfect for me. I am joy and energy personified. The earth, wind, water, and fire build me to be the my contribution to this world. I may not be a whole lot of human but I am a whole lot of spirit. My energy is not just my physical body but the work that I do. I make an every day intentional effort to give of myself to my little corner of the world. I am far from perfect but I like the person I am. I am not changing "me" to fit what others need but I will be a building block for all those that will come after me.
In the spirit of my heritage I will celebrate this death as a beautiful transition. I had to transition to reach down and remember my real self. Celebrate the life you lead because it is the only one we have. Once we cross over into the afterlife of being joyful spirit energy we will return to our original cradle of creation. I know this one had me on the ropes and beat me up pretty good but I am built for the long haul. You most certainly will not see me on the benches. I have way too much life to live before I can return to the spirit.
Ever the dirty mouthed optimist, fucking live your life with dignity of just being YOU ;)
Mucky Molly

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Buffy Rocks!

I watched all the Buffy episodes for the first time in my life. Man, I missed out as a teen! I really see that there was so much to learn from Buffy. Aside from all the stunt double action the story lines were all about teaching something. I saw so much that was applicable to being a teenage girl. I love Buffy she's a true heroine. She was an amazing hero with real life problems not including the supernatural creepy crawlies. :P
The episode that touched me at the right time in my life is from season 7, episode 6 "Help." Buffy is a school counselor and the kiddo she's helping knows she's gonna kick the bucket on a specific Friday. In this story line Buffy does everything in her power to prevent her from dying when in the end she passes on. It was her time to go but Buffy still fought for her. The line that stayed with me for days, "what do you do when you can't help them?" She goes back to work the next day and keeps on working.
I want to be just like Buffy when I grow up. I want to keep fighting the good fight even when it feels like the odds are stacked against you. I want to be that strong heart that can just keep going no matter what. So I am making my way there and I will find the path that will keep me going. I smile now but that was a long arduous road to overcome what I firmly believed was my life. Now I am living a new life and I can feel the sun on my face again. The purpose is there but at times it's hard. I see my new purpose in my new studies and the passion I feel when I do the work that I was meant to do. What I do is a labor of love and I will keep feeding it because we can all achieve the dreams we seek it's only a matter of fighting for them.
I really felt that as a person struggling through anything we tend to give up on ourselves so quickly. We are the harshest to judge, we are the cruelest to ourselves, and the most self critical. The message I received was not to give up on ourselves. To keep fighting because we need to believe in ourselves if we ever want to be a help to others. I want a life full of happiness, love, laughter, and good health. If I live my life bitterly I give up. If I live my life waiting for the worst it's really not living.
I feel recently wrung out and spread thin. I've been pushing at 150 miles per hour just to feel like I am doing my part when I haven't been taking are of me. So I may not be made of rubber and it is now proven that I'm not made of glass because I am recovering slowly but surely. (Cue the whistle sound that makes it sound like you dropped something comically, I fell down a flight of stairs and gave myself a concussion.) I feel better now than when I originally hit the concrete and metal with a bang. So as I limp and meander around my little apartment I know that I get to start over without having to have another crash landing off the stairs. I get to take care of me and still be able to do my job.
Funny things happen when the world is telling you to slow down and you don't listen. This was my wake up call to take a good look at how I am running myself ragged. I took a little too much after the parents where we believed working really hard made it all better. When was the last time I really looked at that? Possibly when I last was at the hospital. So instead of having to have health intervene to make me look at the world around me I will be grateful and appreciative for the journey that got me here. If it wasn't for those hard falls, bumps, and bruises I would not have become the sailor mouthed queen that I am today.
Fight for your right to exist, to be heard, and that you have something to offer. We all have something to give back and grow the community around us. We just have to be courageous enough to believe in ourselves.
Gnite and remember we all mean something *hugs*
Mucky Molly

Saturday, August 29, 2015

It's too hot in the hot tub!

So I don't find myself being political too often but I cannot ignore the political temperature of my country.
I came to be a United States citizen because of my parents sacrifice to fight for a brighter future. My mother and father cried tears of blood to make it across the boarder so that they could touch their dreams. My mother crossed to escape the oppression of poverty, arranged marriage, and the yearning to be more than just a piece of property to a man. My mother comes from a little ranch where the pace of life and traditions are a throw back to the colonized beginnings of Mexico. I'm not bad mouthing my land of my heritage but theses are the circumstances dealt to my mother. She dreamt of an education, a home, and a future for her daughters. My father came to the untied states to leave behind the poverty, hunger, and political climate of Mexico in the early 70s. He dreamt of having a home, prosperity, and an education for both himself and his children.
Both my parents paid their taxes and followed the laws. They paid taxes to set up precedent that they are viable members of society and seek citizenship. My mom and pops are two of the hardest working people I know. They work from sun up to sun down. All for the dream of thriving. The American Dream, the intoxicating hope to be successful and live. My parents sacrificed their love and life for us kids. We all saw how they made it all work and how we all grew to love this land of opportunity. My parents met here in the United States. Both with the dream to be more than they ever thought they could be. Which birthed in me this love and pride for the wonderful blend of American I am. I am a Mexican American with pride and honor for both my cultures.
Growing up first generation was one huge roller coaster that just seems to keep going. The upsides are many but with the upsides come the downsides. Just like any action has its equal reaction there are two sides of the coin. In the U.S. I was rudely awakened to the harsh reality that I am too brown to be White. Filing out those ethnicity and race boxes where the micro-aggressions of my academic youth. Then visiting Mexico and not being Mexican enough. I straddled two worlds but I liked the blend. I joke around and say I'm a cafeteria Mexican American because I get to take what I want from both sides. Although some contradict each other they are complexly me.
Before school started I thought I lived in Mexico. We spoke Spanish, sang in Spanish, ate Mexican food, and held on to the comforts of our heritage. Once I started school my parents enrolled right with me and became students in American traditions along with me. I remember asking my mother "What kind of Mexicans are these kids? They don't speak Spanish, they only speak English!" My mother and father realized then although we had Mexico in our hearts it was time to make room for the United States. I taught them the pledge of allegiance, interest in American cuisine, and love for English music. Although my dad listened to it beforehand he really hadn't started to blend the music with his family. Both my mother and father learned their new language and instilled in us to do the same. We all made the effort to learn more English with each other. Switching from Plaza Sesamo to Sesame Street to embrace our new culture. We had fun practicing with each other after coming home from school.
So for their drive and desire for something more I was born and I love my cultures, heritages, and my unique family. I remember how hard my parents worked so we could be blessed with this abundance. I will never forget the truth of my origin. I will never forget the sacrifice and hard work my parents put forth. Thank you mama and papa for being the wonderful human beings that you are. I still see the struggles we faced and I appreciate your dedication. Some of my first memories are of my mother and father coming home from work. My father coming home covered in dust and dirt. Smelling of fresh cut grass and gasoline. But you still had a smile just for me. The hard work never stopped you from loving your family. My mother coming home from cleaning houses and hotel rooms. Her shirt covered in Clorox stains and her hands roughened by those harsh chemicals. But you always had a smile and embrace just for me. You loved hard and with devotion. We weren't the perfect family but we made it work. That struggle is real and some of us make it and some of us don't. But with all life's risks there is always a chance of failure. But you never gave up. Hell I still don't see you guys giving up any time soon. But I will always carry those images of my parents in my minds eye because I know where I came from.
So political climate or no, we are not a pack of ravenous wolves decimating a population, we are dreamers and hard workers. We cannot all be lumped together as criminals. Every culture and every race has its good and it's bad. I am proud of the open mind and heart I have gained from being of both worlds. Immigration is what the United States is all about we are a tapestry woven together in prosperity and times of strife. That's what the United States is all about. A United people to trail blaze brighter and stronger. Stop the political bullshit from setting us back to a time of bigotry and hate. We are so much more than that.
United we stand,
Mucky Molly

Monday, August 3, 2015

Hello again!

Hello all,
Your gal pal Mucky Molly reporting for duty! So, it's been like forever and a day since I've written an entry so I'll start with some new comings and goings. In the words of Forest Gump, "shit happens." (To say the least) Anyhow life has changed on several oniony layers. I'm going through a divorce due to discovered infidelity. Yeah got bamboozled by love. Silly, huh? Yeah I loved and lost but it showed me a rather new part of my soul.
I'm not your average bear in the sense that I loved my life routine of married life. I grew up with chaos for as long as I can remember. I really don't blame my parents because I'm an adult with the power of perspective and reflection but trust me as a kid I was resentful but that's normal I don't know that teenagers can graduate onto adulthood without it. My life was hum drum but I loved it. Silly routines with funny inside jokes. I argued about house cleanliness and budgets. It was my world with first world problems for a change. I knew things could be worse so I lived with relish knowing in my bubble world "everything was alright." (Cue the zombie feeding frenzy tapes) I'm kind of random and totally weird but I embrace it because that's who I am. So I'll use "zombiepocalypse," terminology to assist with my story. Picture it, New Years 2015... First year as a married couple then it all came to a hot decomposing halt. I discovered on my husbands phone my adult world's worst news. I'd been cheated on and for quite some time. I knew instinctively the moment I felt like the slow poke that gets pack frenzy eaten by the fast ambling zombies. My heart broke and I felt like I'd just been chomped on like some zombie designer shishkabob.
I became unhinged. I saw my life turn to ashes. I loved that man, his ridiculous quirks, even more so his extreme whey protein intolerance. I am totally weird but it's me. I loved that life was not dramatic although there were dramatic parts (first real boyfriend and "true love") rummage around your brain for teenager cliches of first loves and boyfriends, yeah that was me. Regardless of the ensuing disembowelment of my future dreams of "normal" I'm still on this long journey to discover that I'm worth it. Self esteem is like an ever inflating/deflating hot air balloon rental business. There were moments I was Leonardo Di Caprio before the Titanic eats shit. Then the zombie dinner special. Things weren't awful in my life to say it was would be a lie. I had deluded myself and that's something different. Trust me ignorance is bliss because a walked in my ignorant bubble for a while. There were signs but the "that won't happen to me" teenage belief was my go to soothing mantra. Clinging on to the hope that it was all "going to pass," "this is totally an isolated incident," "but daddy I love him!" Crap, that was my ignorant shit cloud.
Love really is blind, because through it all I loved the jerk. Now not so much but back then there could not be a better guy for me. I wanted "every thing to work out," and I let him be first above anything else inside of me. Dreams, goals, milestones, you name it were measured on him because he was my life. If he'd never cheated I'd have been an 80 year old widow for him. But no, it was the moment of truth wake up and use the crow bar on those zombies or be eaten alive with my self doubt, rage, and destroyed dream zombies. I still tried to lie to myself and "tried" to fix it but shit, you can't un-zombie the decomposing bloated flesh that was my marriage. I did napalm his ass but it only made things worse. I was so consumed with the rotting mess I was a depressed harpy.
Depression is real, I'm only making light of it because it's that or stay a quivering mess of nerves. I do not like wearing my depression publicly because I was raised to channel it elsewhere. Being visibly depressed brings pity and questions that need answers. (Story for another time) I know in the solitude of my own mind and heart that I'm depressed but I'm not letting it take power over me. Wait, let me rephrase that I am experiencing depression, because I am not Depression. (This is 5 years of therapy in the making so don't beat yourself up, we all get there eventually) I go out there and smile and work and keep loving because this is how I heal. It's not suppressed depression, I experience it, hold it, and I acknowledge it but let it go. I write, I sing, I dance, I cook, and get mani-pedis to ground me to my present. Life is beautiful and I'm grateful to have life. Things in my world aren't perfect but I'm making my way towards peace, love, acceptance, and self-esteem. It can be up and down at any moment but I chose to control my heart and soul. I can't go back in time and change any of it (although a zombie back to the future like movie would be rad) I can only grow and adapt me. It's not an easy transformation but like all things it's gradual. To say "hey look at me I'm better cause I'm married to the next guy!" would be a whole lot of bullshit.
I'm not choosing to stay away from relationships because I'm holding a torch for the Ex it's because I've got to belong to me first. I belonged to my parents for my whole life then jumped dealerships and belonged to my husband. Never was there a time I just belonged to me. I'm not in the I hate all men phase or even hating on love. That's not me. I'm a fan girl of romance, fantasy, and happy endings but I'm a realist. If I don't care about me I'm just going to keep on going with this destructive relationships where I have to belong to someone to be loved. I'm not going to sit here and tell you to believe in "God" because I say so but it's what works for me. Use whatever works for you to get you above and beyond the life obstacles you've got right now. But my faith in my Creator is a portion to my healing salve.
I choose school, faith, friends, and my belief in love to get me up from my bootstraps and keep on trucking, I do not have all the answers but I know what works for me. I know that I've only begun this journey of healing but I've got a clear intent to live up to my inner light for me. There are easy days and there are hard days but I'll take it. I don't know where I'll end up but part of the fun is getting there. I hate him so much some times and then I realize he's a phantom limb. He used to be there but now he's not. So why hate? It only gives him back my power and energy. So it's a failed attempt, not the death of my life. I mourn not for him but for the life I thought I had. I played my part, I learned a valuable lesson, and now I heal for me. Had he not done what he'd done I wouldn't have grown or even acknowledged that I defined myself by him. I'm not an accessory or an attachment I am an entity all on my own.
Being who I am is all I can do. I don't go out into my world trying to hurt others or causing a pity party. I am no ones victim not anymore. It's part of a culture that martyrs their women that makes me struggle because I run hot and cold on the "family first then I come last" mentality. We all matter, we all deserve love and happiness, and no one is allowed to make you feel "less than" and a family as a whole is beautiful. Putting it all on one person is cruel it's a team effort. Making my relationship "work" with just one person carrying the whole weight was a disaster in waiting. I see that now. Next time will be different. I can't say that it will all come out perfect but I know where my heart and soul are at this time around. I'll be more alert, alive, and awake and give it all I got. Whether it works or not who knows but I'll get out there eventually. It's not a cake walk but I know I'll master my own issues some day soon. Hey, I'm one day closer to it every day. Eventually the alive humans wise up to the horde of zombies in their back yard.
So keep loving, keep pushing for your dreams, keep your chin up, and know we are all a community in the scheme of things and maybe through blogging, talking to friends, or seeing your therapist (or a plethora of combinations) we can heal, adapt, transform, and thrive once more. Forever a foul mouthed optimist in a world of movie spoiler alerts I bid you a good night and a future forecast of accomplishment in your lives.
That bitch that everyone loves to hate, (or the sailor mouthed friend you adore hehehe:)
Mucky Molly

Friday, October 4, 2013

What shampoo is that?

Today on the train I miraculously found a person who has a thing for smelling hair. I had it up in a bun, you'd think that was deterrent enough.
As I read my book. A man standing holding the bar above me asks... "What kind of shampoo is that?" Mind you I thought he was on the phone or asking someone else. I kept reading and he tapped my shoulder. "What kind of shampoo is that?" I look at him still confused and I say "Huh?" He then says "Can I smell your hair? Your shampoo smells nice" Mr. Cheerful just scared the crap out of me... I stare at him dumbfounded and I just say it is grapefruit scented shampoo. He leans in, I scoot away, he sniffs, and he says "Nope that's not what I smell." I just smiled awkwardly and tell him "Well that's what the bottle says." I get up and move to another seat. That was super creepy. I usually don't break my nerve I just sit there and ignore.
The passengers around me were just as stupefied as I was. He just smiled and got off on the next stop.
What was that all about!? I swear I need to start wearing a hat, closed toed shoes, and a carry a cubicle or something. What about me says "Weirdos Stop Here for Inquiry"
One will never know....

The many colorful moments on public transportation...
-Mucky Molly

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Apparently "Injured" is in?

So much to my dismay I stepped on a bee. This later became a problem when it got infected. Later the doctor cut it out. So now I am bee part free. Although now a chunk of foot is missing I have to hobble around in an injured foot boot.

Enough background now to the story.

Today on the train as I ambled up the walkway I sat down and was gloriously alone for about 0.5 seconds. This man sat next to me. I edged away and placed my back pack on my lap for distance purposes. He slid closer and I put on my concentration face. I was reading on my phone and I popped on my headphones. He was leaning far too close and I looked up. He said he was reading the book over my shoulder. But that I was reading too fast. I sort of glared at him and put my phone closer to my face. I figured grumpy women aren't something to mess with. I thought he got my drift... but no, not my luck. About 20 minutes later it was my stop. I wobbled out of the train. Then Mr. Over the shoulder reader asked me, "Is that boot permanent?" I answered confusedly back at him, "NO."  Then he said "Aww, too bad you have a cute limp." I just stood there burning holes into him with my stare... All he did was laugh. Since when did "injured" become synonymous with cute? I'll never understand it.

Tuesday a guy asked me if he could carry me down the stairs. I said, "no thank you" and kept on my merry way. He later followed me to the escalator on the next stop asking if I wanted a piggy back ride. I once again scowled at him and said, "NO THANK YOU." He smiled, walked away, and blew me a kiss. SAY WHAT! I just sort of stood there all confused.

Monday as I was waiting to get picked up from the train station a guy asked if he could kiss my boo boo. I just frowned at him. He just kept on smiling and walking away.

Ok this all tells me I need a better angry face because so far it's not intimidating anyone! GEEZ! Or maybe I need to start wearing a trash bag as my outfit.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Bag Lady

Hello All,

Another trip on the train another story to tell. On the way home yesterday a very packed train took me home. As I was squished into a corner a Bag Lady came onto the train. Literally wrapped in discarded clothes and black trash bags. She pulled in her large bag on wheels and began to recite what she called "scripture" she was praying for all us lost souls on the train. I let her go at it. It wasn't like I was really paying attention when I had a book in front of me. 

What I should have been doing was watching out for her sermons. She began to rant and rave about women's beauty being used as Satan's temptations. Not that I was dressed like a hoochie or anything like that she just invaded my space and started shaking a very stinky and ratty bible at me. She pointed into my shirt. (Memo to self always wear an undershirt no matter how good the shirt fits). She aptly pointed out that women's breasts were a conduit of Satan's temptation. Her grubby finger about an inch into my shirt scared the shit out of me. I couldn't believe just how quick this rather large bad lady moved. She went and poked at other ladies shirts too and none of us had a moment to react. Poof grubby fingers in 4 women's shirts. So I pressed close to the passengers next to me to huddle. Safety in numbers and all that jazz. Bag lady ranted and raved about another woman passengers "whore make-up" and how the another woman dare wear a skirt above the knee. At the next stop our kind train conductor asked her to step out. While hustling her out at the next stop she kept calling him stupid over and over again while the doors closed in her face. 
I kept wondering if everyone dressed like her and wandered around like a Bag Lady if she'd be happy?

Friday, August 2, 2013

Open Letter to Mr. Foot Grabber

Dear Mr. Foot Grabber,
Yes, I am talking to you sir. First of all let me tell you that when you are riding a public train just because your seat neighbor has opened toed shoes does not mean "please grab my foot." First of all yes, I love cute shoes and furthermore, yes, they looked damn cute! But just because you asked for the time, which I supplied to you in a timely manner does not mean I was dying for a foot rub. I would appreciate you to leave all people alone on the train, wait make that in all public settings. Do not interrupt reading, bobbing of heads to music, or plain old spaced out. Refrain from grabbing body parts that are not your own. I was obviously into a book, listening to music, and ignoring my surroundings. This was not an invitation to publicly announce you have a foot fetish. While I innocently swung in beat to my music. (Yes, I am that short my feet dangle about 2 inches off the floor.) There was no need to karate kid your way into grabbing onto my big toe. I yelped like a kicked puppy. You scared the crap out of me! I would have appreciated you to have let go of my foot as I pulled away from you not the fact that you grabbed my shoe heel. No it was not me being cute or a drama queen that was my angry face! You had no right to announce to the crowd on the train how cute my feet are. Most people just glance and move on. Why can't you opt to take that route? Or maybe consider becoming a professional foot rubber so people bring their feet to you! May I also point out that if I hadn't been off balance I would have kicked you in the face. Maybe it was the glaring of the other passengers maybe you finally realized you were being creepy but thank you for not driving me to violence and letting go of my foot as my stop arrived. Also I would have liked to have had the time to not just gape at you like a fish out of water but what do you say to that?! So I write you this note. Please stop grabbing feet! There are plenty of people who enjoy that. Just look them up on craigslist or some weird dating site. Leave hapless stranger feet alone! 
Still freaking out,
Mucky Molly