Time...

Time... Infinite, or so it seems. At least that’s what many people might believe. It’s how some people live their lives.

Tomorrow... Tomorrow, I’ll make that call. Tomorrow, I’ll take that drive. Tomorrow, I’ll right that wrong.

Tomorrow...

There’s always time, right? There will be another day, another opportunity. Another chance.

But, what if? What if there isn’t more time? What if there isn’t another chance, another opportunity? What if all you have is the here and now—only this day, this moment, this opportunity?

I’ve spent the majority of my life in 12-step recovery. The most recent anniversary I celebrated was ten consecutive years in the rooms of help and hope. Ten years of blessings, and opportunities. During that time there’s been innumerable lessons, self-inflicted heartache, the struggles that come along with life on life’s terms, peeling the layers of my soul—of my disease, and learning what makes me who I am, how I act, and why I think the way I do.

All of that work—and there’s still more to be done—enabled me to discover who I am at the core. From the top of my head, right down to the bottom of my feet.

My entire heart and soul.

I have a deep understanding and acceptance of the fact that I’m not perfect. I never will be. And frankly, I don’t want to be. Only madness lies on the path to perfection, and I’ve had more than my share of madness in my lifetime.

The last 5 years has carried it’s own brand of madness though. It marks the beginning of change in my life, of a madness that would impact my future—to a degree I hadn’t realized possible.

And through all of that, I’m exactly where I am supposed to be.

Everything happens for a reason. Let me state that again: Every single thing that has happened in my life has been for a reason.

I lost my father.

Two years ago, he was dead and alone in his small one room apartment for two days, but no one would discover that until tomorrow. 8/11/2012. For me, honoring and remembering him, lasts for three days. Three days of a deluge of memories. Three days of a desperate need to have him back. And three days of knowing he’s at peace and right where he should be.

Yet, I would give anything to have just one more Sunday evening phone call with him. To hear him tell me he loved me, or bitch about his life, or call me Puppy. To be sure he knows how much I loved him.

I would give anything to have a little more time. To have tomorrow...

But it’s too late for that now.

We don’t always have tomorrow. We don’t always have another chance, or another opportunity to make it right. Time is sometimes not on our side.

I’m not a fan of missed opportunities or regret.

I would much rather live, and take chances, and know that I got to have something crazy, and good, and complicated, and wonderful, intense, and hard... and then even if it fails, I would rather have the pain of losing, than the regret of giving up.

I would rather grab what life puts in my path, and if I deem it worthy, hold on to it with both hands and see where it takes me. I would much rather have today, even if I know that tomorrow, or ten thousand tomorrows later, it would be gone.

It’s worth it. The mistakes, the good and bad choices, the heartache we receive or cause, and the once in a lifetime passion we might find in one specific person. And the risk that comes along with it. All of it.

I would rather choose to live, than miss one intense moment of it.

Because I think it’s fucking worth it.

The Facts: @Boobiewed vs @Boobiewednesday

Lovelies, please read the post that I wrote for the @Boobiewed team on Twitter.

http://boobiewednesday.org/2011/09/the-facts-about-the-twitter-hype-of-boobiewednesday-vs-boobiewed/

Leave your comments and please RT or Share the post on Facebook.

Thanks,

WookiesGirl

I have boobs and I'm not afraid to use them!

Lovelies,

I posted a guest blog for the @boobiewed Twitter team. Please check it out.

http://boobiewednesday.org/2011/05/i-have-boobs-and-i%E2%80%99m-not-afraid-to-use-them/

Or you can read it here too!

Lovelies, I have some serious stuff to talk to you about.

*drags soap box over and steps up*

I have boobs and I’m not afraid to use them!

If you play on Twitter, then you may be aware of #boobiewednesday or #boobiewed. If you aren’t, then I’m happy to explain it.

Every Wednesday, women and men all over the world put up various avatars displaying either bare chests or cleavage. Some are actual pictures of the Twitter user, some are pictures of models they find attractive. Whichever picture they choose, its purpose is to capture your attention. The question is asked: What is #boobiewednesday? And that is when the awareness begins.

I have been putting up an avatar of my cleavage for almost two years now. I do this every week to assist the @boobiewed team in bringing awareness to the Twitter community. The whole purpose of Boobie Wednesday is to remind women and men to do their monthly self-breast exams and to have a yearly mammogram. In addition, they also invite cancer survivors, family members, and supporters to send in their stories to be posted on the site. It’s another wonderful way to help educate people.

It takes a lot of courage to post a picture of your cleavage or bare chest for hundreds, possibly thousands, to see. Some are fake breasts, some are real breasts. Some are the reconstructed breasts of cancer survivors who have had mastectomies. I commend the men and women who do this weekly. I am very proud of my breasts and I am happy to display my cleavage if it helps bring awareness.

However, not everyone approves of how Twitter users support #BoobieWed. And, ya know, that’s okay. There are, of course, people who put up avatars just to get attention for themselves, and that’s okay, too. What someone chooses to show publicly or on Twitter is their business. To each his or her own.

Here is what you need to know: The BoobieWed crew has never asked, nor required, their supporters to show their cleavage or bare chests. The one thing they have asked them to do is to use one of these hashtags: #boobiewed or #boobiewednesday. That’s it. It’s that simple.

Last week some things happened on Twitter that deeply disturbed me. When I signed on, I noticed that two of my Twitter friends and me were being harassed because of our cleavage avatars. A women that none of us knew approached all three of us at once and began shaking her electronic finger at us. She accused us of degrading and objectifying women because we chose to put up avatars displaying our cleavage. She said we had no self-respect, no standards, and that we were oppressing women everywhere. She called me a hussie, a twit, and a slut. And she has, of course, deleted those tweets. But here’s the thing: she did all of this in the name of “feminism.” She accused me of being a feminist who did nothing but support the status quo. She brought up issues of salary and the differences between men and women and then said that I shouldn’t complain about these things if I was just going to show my “tits” all over Twitter and objectify and oppress women everywhere. She also attacked the @boobiewed Twitter account.

Now, let me just say that when someone comes at me like this, I feed them to my tweet stream. So that is exactly what I did. And my followers ate her alive. I sat and watched the stream erupt and the fight went on for about three hours. This woman made a lot of people angry. Men and women. People were on fire over this, and I really can’t blame them.

My point in telling you this story is not to lambaste this woman again. My point is that a very important movement got twisted into something so wrong and ugly it made me take pause and wonder why. All in the name of feminism? Really? This is not the first time Boobiewed has taken hits from so-called feminists, but I have never seen it this bad before.

I have never claimed to be a feminist. I do however, claim that as a woman, as a citizen of the United States, and a Twitter user, have the right to show my cleavage if I choose to do so. And you have the right to not look and to not follow me on Twitter. You also have the right to disagree with my choice. But the minute you start being nasty and insulting, you’ve lost all credibility. If exercising my rights as a woman to show my body upsets you that much, then that is truly your problem. Telling me I’m wrong and shaking your finger at me and then telling me what I should or should not do seems an awful lot like telling me to get in the back of the bus or that I should hide my body because it’s shameful or that I don’t have a right to own my body. How, then, can you be a feminist claiming you support equal rights? Isn’t that the same thing as oppressing me?

Boobiewed is a wonderful cause. Every day, the team sends out information that helps educate the masses. It’s another way to support breast cancer awareness. The people that support it do so in the manner that they are comfortable with. I’ll tell you something else. Every week I get the typical “Hey nice avi” tweet from a man, I say, “Thank you.” Then I tell him why my cleavage is on display. I also ask him, “Did you know men get breast cancer too?” At least once a week, someone answers me back with, “I did not know that.” So please, do not tell me that this does not raise awareness. That it doesn’t serve as a reminder. Because I know it does. Women on Twitter tell me every week that if it was not for #boobiewed, they would forget to do their self-checks. This is good stuff, people, and I will continue to support the team for as long as I stay on Twitter.

Thank you to the @boobiewed team for what they do week after week. It’s not always easy when you have to deal with some of the negative backlash that comes when you stand on the front lines. I vow to stand with you always, though. And to the woman who went on a rampage last week: You’re in my prayers. It’s very clear to me that whatever you struggle with truly has nothing to do with my avatar or anyone else’s. Whatever it is, I hope you find peace with it.

*steps off soap box*

Much love to you all.
Wookies Girl