Are You There, God? It’s Me, Fizzy

Hello my loves! When I was a kid, my mom told me there are three things you never discuss with people who aren’t the closest of family members or the dearest of friends; Politics, Abortion, and Religion. Eh, well. I’m a rebel. Or an idiot. It could go either way. A bit ironically, the invention of the internet seems to have sent that rule to shit. Facebook in particular seems to be the place your former high school classmates and distant relatives go to be really horrible, intolerant people. My relationship with religion has always been tenuous at best. I grew up going to church every weekend with my grandfather. He’d come pick me up in his wonderfully cliche old dude car, and we’d walk to church with my grandma from their house. After the service he’d always give me a new book, and she’d give me either one of those rock hard oatmeal cookies with the plastic white frosting, or a Werther’s Original with at least four years of dust on the wrapper. I still love those oatmeal cookies. That plastic frosting is friggin’ delicious. I liked church. I would go to the youth group classes in the morning, but then got to sit in with the adults for the main sermon. I’ve never done well just sitting and listening to people talk, so I would read the Bible in my corner of the pew while my grandma gave exasperated sighs at my inability to sit like a lady whilst contorting to read. I remember the exact day I hit a bit of a wall with religion. It was my third or fourth pass through the Bible, so I’d read this part before, but I guess until this moment, I was too young to understand what I was...

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Run, Fizzy, Run

Hello my loves! For one fateful semester in college, I was an English Teaching major. My first day in class, I was determined to make friends at my new school and heard these folks behind me talking about being on the track team. I turned around and said, “I’ve never understood running for sport. I’m in no hurry to get anywhere.” Worst. Opener. EVER. Now you know why I’ve never had friends. Literally no one in that class ever spoke to me after that. (Blame them, I do not.) But my mantra was solid. I’ve never been a runner. I hate running. Hate it. It’s all sweaty and panting and I’ve got big ol’ knockers that can’t be contained by any sports bra. I’m really more of a yoga gal. And for years, I would do yoga and say, spinning, or walking on a treadmill for cardio. It was always for weight loss on the cardio. Yoga because, well… When I was pregnant with my daughter, I tried to keep up my casual workouts. I wildly under estimated exactly how hard it was to grow a whole human and one day fell asleep while using the treadmill. Only woke up when I got tossed off into the wall of our den. Thus ended my relationship with consistent fitness. I tried to jump back in, again, for weight loss, after the tots were born, but honestly, I would rather spend their nap times trying to make up for some of the ZERO sleep I was getting at night. Last year, I had a heart attack. It blew. And while I was determined to, you know, not die from another heart attack, I gave myself a break because my heart had actually been super healthy when it happened. The whole situation...

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The Antelopes

Hello my loves! Yesterday was kind of meh in our house. Three of the four of us have an upper-respiratory ick, and when I was out running errands, it managed to snow, sleet, rain, and freakishly hail all while I was out in it. We still have a layer of hail on the ground because Indiana. While I was out, I had to stop and get gas, which by now I should know is a risky task in itself, but I had the genuine misfortune of running into a prick dude-bro who seemed to take glee in ruining other peoples’ days. The woman in front of me in line paying for her gas was having to spread her payment over three different credit cards. She was embarrassed and kept turning around to apologize to all of us waiting on her transaction. At least six times that woman turned around to say she was sorry. Hey man, I’ve been there. I’ve been the person asking if I can pay ten bucks in cash, and could I put the rest on this card because it’s all I have. I’ve been the gal trying to buy groceries only to have my card not go through and have to stand there asking the cashier to take items off until we get to an amount where the card works. It’s not a fun game. Once someone called me a bitch who was wasting everyone’s time because I couldn’t get it through my brain I was broke. Some people are super considerate like that. So, anyway. This woman was apologizing like crazy, when the dude-bro behind me said, “I’mma tell you what. No one gives a fuck about your sorrys.” And he said it loudly. He wasn’t just talking to this woman, he wanted to...

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Killing It With Kindness

Hello my darlings! When I was in preschool, my mom was running a daycare in our home. She would take the kids she sat for and me off to school every morning. There was a little boy in that group who was my age, and he was a complete dick. Every day this jerk of a kid would be horrible to me. He teased me, beat me up, tormented me, all in the back of our damn station wagon. Quite distraught from this pint-sized bully’s shenanigans, I begged my mom to help. Or at least throw him from the car one day. That’d learn him. But this was the 80’s and money was crucial to, you know, eating, and my mom couldn’t afford to send the little shit steppin’. She then gave me the best advice I’ve ever been given in my entire life. “Find something nice about him. Maybe he acts that way because no one ever tells him the good things about himself. Everyone has something about them worth complimenting.” I suspect she knew more about this lad’s life than she was willing to tell munchkin-me, and was sending me on a kamikaze mission of do-gooding. The next day, I was back in the station wagon, and this kid was in full form. I’ll never forget it. He was right in the middle of a tirade about how stupid/stinky/loser-ish I was, and I looked him square in the mug and said, “You have really pretty blue eyes.” He was so stunned, he just stared at me for the rest of the ride. On the way home from school that day, we smooched in the back of that station wagon. And that’s where it started. My never-wavering belief that a compliment can change everything. Also, that’s when I...

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Class Dismissed

Hello my dears, Okay, so, a thing happened and I really want to talk about it. I’m not a hard-hitting journalist by any stretch, but this is going on in my town right now and I feel it’s important and should be discussed. Here’s what went down. A seven-year-old girl was riding the bus home from school. She is a first grader. An eleven-year-old boy, a fifth grader, was taking pictures and videos of this first grade girl with his phone. The girl asked him to stop. He wouldn’t. The girl told him to stop. He wouldn’t. The girl told him to stop or she would tell the bus driver. The fifth grade boy then took a pocket knife out of his coat, opened the blade, and pointed it at the first grade girl. It is everyone’s understanding that he didn’t say “I’m going to stab you.” or anything similar, but other children witnessing the situation said that it was a clear threat to her, to make her stop. Now, as this is dealing with a child, the school can’t tell me what actions were taken, I’m not press, I’m not one of the parents. I spoke to the mother of the little girl, and they won’t tell her what happened to the boy who threatened her daughter. What she does know is that this boy is still riding the bus every day. She was told his parents are working parents, and they couldn’t “inconvenience” them to find another way to school. (Those were their words, not mine.) This mother is too afraid to let her daughter ride the bus with the boy, so she has now started driving her daughter to and from school every day, even though her daughter very much wants to be back with her...

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