Don't Be a Poop

Hi,

Never stop being yourself. I know it sounds corny and cliché... but... JUST DO IT!!! Don't be a 'nothing' just because you're afraid of criticism. Everyone is looking at things through their own funky goggles. What people think about you is none of your business.

Don't over think. Just be.

Oh, and don't be a poop either. Being yourself doesn't mean being selfish or poor mannered. Be the BEST version of yourself. I mean, I'm pretty sure the best version of yourself isn't a poop. So, there's a good place to start.

Good luck.

Have a nice day.

xo Mel

The Math Nazi

My father is an outstanding man full of admirable qualities. He is dependable, kind, generous, supportive and completely selfless. I love my father very much.

He's great. But, despite this impressive list of admirable qualities, he is a Math Nazi.

Let me explain.

Growing up, math was never my strong suit. Something about the painful accuracy required when adding numbers together didn't click well with me from the very start.

There was no freedom when it came to numbers. Two plus two equaled four, and there was no room for creativity in between. It was practically a dictatorship. Oftentimes, I remember being very behind in my "in-class math workbooks," simply because I didn't want to engage in page after page of mind numbing torture. I didn't find any satisfaction in discovering a solution to a math problem. This number plus that number equals more numbers -NEXT.

However, my father didn't see it that way. Math was his strong suit. Back in his home country, he majored in mathematics at a top of the top university. He then went on to pursue a career in computers, where a great deal of his work consisted of writing computer programs -which involved an even more tedious and infinite knowledge of numbers than you could ever imagine. My father has the ability to solve near to impossible math problems in a baffling short period of time. In other words, he's super good at math.

Now, take that level of pristine genius mixed with a considerably serious toned foreign accent, and combine it with a wide-eyed third grader trying to learn her multiplication tables for the first time.

It was something to do with the numbers. They turned him into someone I didn't recognize. The moment he was presented with a math problem of some sort, he would transform into an invasive Math Nazi.

One day, my teacher informed us of an upcoming math test. Each week, I was to pace myself and learn a different set of multiplication tables to prepare myself for my fate.

My father decided it would be better for me to learn them all at once.

Day after day he began spontaneously quizzing me on various multiplication tables. Somehow, he felt that raising the volume of his voice to an unreasonably intimidating tone would ensure that I was learning successfully.

After doing questionably well on my test, my class moved onto our next subject: problem solving.

I knew I couldn't live like this any longer, so I decided to simply stop going to him for math help.

I begged my brain to pick up the pace and just GET IT, so I wouldn't have to endure his dictatorship of numbers -but alas, my limited capacity of knowledge left me with no choice.

This went on for several years. I wish I could say this method helped me move on to becoming some sort of "numbers guru," but unfortunately it didn't.

Later in life, I did everything in my power to avoid numbers, except when it came to the simple math knowledge that was required for "life's necessities." I never fully recovered from my "fear of numbers."

There are moments when I still shudder at the sight of them today.

Today, I realize that my father's extreme approach to "math help," was simply his way of "wanting the best for me." He wanted me to know everything he knew and more, so I could grow up to have a great life for myself. When I eventually decided to pursue a "non-numbers" path in life, he was completely supportive about it, and has always encouraged me to follow my dreams.

My father's love of numbers led him to provide for his family and manifest the life I have today. He has always put others before himself, and shows his love through his selfless actions and positive outlook on life. The most important thing he has ever taught me was not my multiplication tables, but how to be a good person.

He taught me how to care for others by giving them an abundance of kindness and empathy. I am truly grateful for all he has done for me (and continues to do!). He's still the greatest guy around, and I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world.

In life, it is important to always show gratitude to our loved ones -the ones who selflessly love and care for us no matter what.

When was the last time you reached out to a loved one and told them you are grateful for the role they play in your life? I dare you to do it right now.

And, GO!

Have a nice day.

xo Mel

Frozen Hot Dogs

So... you've been talking to a girl who you really admire, and you would REALLY LOVE to ask her to be your girlfriend, BUT, upon asking, she gives you a response you were not expecting: she "only sees you as her friend." 

You mentally weigh the pros and cons of this fate, and come to the conclusion that since you're so completely head over heels over this chick, a role as a "friend" is better than nothing. So you set up camp in this position and decide to stake it out in the hope that one day she will come to her senses and see you for the nice, great guy you really are. 

Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. You've endured more "friend" things than you can bear - not to mention, your ball sack is about to self combust. You think if you just hold on long enough that "she'll cave in one of these days" and "finally see me for the nice, great guy I really am!"

 

NOPE. I'm sorry to break it to you, but she is never going to be interested in you on your terms, and I'm about to tell you why.

For her, a "male friend" is a "frozen hot dog." 

Let me explain.

Let's say she goes grocery shopping and picks up everything she wants.

At the last minute, she decides to grab some frozen hot dogs thinking, "Well, I already picked up everything I wanted. But frozen hot dogs might be good to have around. I mean, I definitely don't want to eat them every night, or unless I have no other option." 

Who knows how many she has stocked in her freezer. Maybe she's some kind of frozen hot dog hoarder, hoarding every preservable substance in sight, simply because of the sheer convenience they provide.

But one thing is certain -every time she opens her freezer they'll be there saying, “Yup. We're still here! We'll always be here! You can eat any one of us if there’s nothing else to eat! You will always have us in an emergency…”

And one day she will inevitably end up feeling really hungry.  

She's going to walk over to her fridge and see there is nothing (she likes) left to eat.

And then she'll remember, "Ohhh yeah! Frozen hot dogs!"

In other words, she just wants to have her frozen hot dogs and eat them too, and the biggest part of this cycle of madness is YOU! You need to stop participating in this frozen food bonanza! You are better than this! Thaw yourself out of this mess and move on, my friend. Sooner or later, you'll find the bun that's right for you. 

Good luck. 

Have a nice day.

xo Mel

The Pizza Story

Some love stories begin in a crowded place -he's walking through a sea of faces, and your eyes meet each other for the first time. Or, he walks into a room, and you just know there's something special about him. Others begin through the means of technology -love at first click (or fiftieth).

My love story begins with a pizza.

And no, this is not one of those stories where food will be personified as my significant other -there is a human involved in this one (although, if you are in a serious relationship with food, please know that you have my sincere blessings and understanding towards the love you harbor for your special one).

This is the tale of how I scored the man of my dreams. This is The Pizza Story.

Love is a strange force that has the tendency to manifest a series of "attention seeking rituals" within us.

Some girls will drape their bodies in unique smells.

Others will paint their faces to grasp the attention of their desired male.

Some may laugh at their jokes in a "louder than average manner" in order to express their romantic interest.

And the remaining may regurgitate various spiritual quotations in order to demonstrate their high sense of self-awareness towards the male specimen in question.

My female instincts pushed me to bet the man of my interest $20 that I could eat an entire large pizza to myself (including the crust) in one sitting.

It was a calm spring night. My friend had invited me over to her boyfriend's house to watch a UFC fight in his basement. Upon our arrival, I greeted the boyfriend and his friend -a visually attractive male whom I had met once before.

A few months prior to this, her boyfriend, alongside the handsome friend, had come to pick us up from a downtown party. It was the first time I had met him. On the ride home, we had decided to make a late night stop at McDonalds. As we all announced our orders to the drive-through speaker, I extended a special request for a packet of honey alongside my "Double Quarter Pounder Meal."

You see, I thoroughly enjoy eating honey with my fries (something about the combination of salty and sweet goodness really hits the spot). This peculiar request seemed to spark the interest of the handsome friend. It was there that the first seed was planted.

We made our way down to the basement. Moments after we sat down to watch the fight, the doorbell rang. The boys exclaimed that they had already ordered a couple of pizzas for us before hand. As my friend and her boyfriend went to retrieve them, I was momentarily left alone with the handsome friend. He spoke to me:

"I've never met anyone who eats their fries with honey." he said.

"You remember that?" I responded in shock.

"Of course! It was a once in a lifetime thing to witness. And the way you devoured that quarter pounder burger -I was impressed."

It appeared that my ability to consume food in grotesque amounts had impressed him. Maintaining my cool stature, I proceeded to speak:

"Yea, I love food. I don't hold back. I order large pizzas and eat them to myself in my free time."

It was not a lie. From time to time, I would treat myself to a whole pizza, just because I wanted to. And I'm not sorry about it either. It seems like in today's society, some women feel they have to explain, justify or apologize for the consumption of "high calorie foods" -or in some cases, any food in general. As humans, we have the God given right to put yummy food in our tummies. No apologies necessary.

Intrigued by my statement, he raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe you. I think you're talking smack. There's no way you can finish a whole pizza on your own. You're lying to me right now.""

"Believe it," I challenged him. "I speak the truth."

As our verbal tennis match proceeded, my friend and her boyfriend returned to the basement with the pizzas in hand.

He looked me in the eyes, "Ok, if you think you're so tough, let's make a bet. $20 says you can't eat one of these large pizzas on your own, crust included."

"Bring it on." I accepted.

On the outside, I appeared confident, collected, and cool.

On the inside, my stomach was screaming: "YOU JUST HAD A FULL DINNER BEFORE YOU GOT HERE! WE CAN'T DO THIS! ABORT! ABORT!"

Now, under any other circumstances, I would never have entertained a challenge such as this one. I mean, I was never the type of girl who felt she had to prove anything to anyone (especially a guy) in order to appear "worthy" or "special." But this guy wasn't like any other guy. This guy was a special guy. This guy gave me butterflies when he spoke. I was certain that it wasn't the feeling of my prior pasta dinner digesting in there either, they were legitimate butterflies fluttering about.

Sometimes you just know. Sometimes, some things, just feel right. And right at that moment, what felt right, was to impress the guy I liked by eating this entire large pizza and attaining his romantic validation along with his $20.  

So, despite my stomach's silent objection towards the plan, my heart and I proceeded to take on the challenge. I reached for my first slice.

"This is nothing for me," I said as I began pecking away at the pizza.

"We'll see." He responded.

Slice after slice, the handsome friend witnessed me consume the massive object. Each time I reached the crust, I would skillfully pause for dramatic effect.

"Slowing down?" He asked.

I looked him in the eye, and, without blinking, devoured the crust whole as he watched it disappear into my mouth in complete awe. He smiled. I felt like the sexiest woman alive.

As I reached the end of the pizza, however, I began feeling defeated. The vacancy in my stomach was slowly running out. Sensing my heavy breathing, he began expressing great concern and sincerely suggested that I stop. But I was too far in to turn back now. I was a woman of my word.

"No, this is nothing for me," I heaved as I smashed the now cold pizza down my throat. And with that, I finished the entire large pizza (crust included).

"Wow, I'm seriously impressed. I really didn't believe you were gonna do it!"

I smiled at him in silence. Mostly because the "itis" was preventing me from forming any sort of comprehensive response. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. I began shaking my head in objection, insisting I couldn't accept his money.

"It's ok," I said, "I'm already a winner."

The handsome friend laughed, "A bet is a bet!" And after his tenth insisting offer, I accepted the $20 bill.

And that's how I scored a free large pizza. And the man of my dreams.

True love begins with honoring and loving yourself. When we do this, a light begins to shine from within. The more you love and honor yourself, the brighter you are shining your unique light into the world, and the easier it becomes for your special one to find you.

Love is the sweetest, selfless and most meaningful force that will ever grace your heart. I am lucky enough to have found a partner in my life who shows me that degree of love every single day. There is no measure I can use to weigh how much I love and care for him back.

In other words -best $20 I ever made in my life.

Have a nice day.

xo Mel