Anger Management

2014-11-10 Miss Poison Anger, Being Real, Emotions, Finding Your Truth, Honesty, Loyalty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Therapy, Unfiltered, Writing Anger Management, Be Real, Honesty, Honor Yourself, Poison In Lethal Doses, Therapy, Untamed, Writing

For about six years, I’ve diligently tried to work on my personal anger issues. It took me on an interesting journey. I learned so much about myself that I was a little astounded by the epiphany I had several months ago.

During all of the time where I walked away from arguments and fights, kept my mouth shut, disengaged from negativity, discussed how I felt in therapy, and then took all of that knowledge into my daily life, I lost something big. There is a fine line between taming an issue, working on yourself for betterment, and changing yourself to accommodate other people. That fine line is where you completely lose the unique aspect that makes you, YOU.

Somehow, all the “this is how you handle this situation” crap turned me into some kind of tame pet. Therapy only skims the surface, depending on the therapist. It changes you if you allow it, but what if the core of who you are didn’t truly need changing? Again, the result is being turned into a a tame pet, a person who no longer reacts intensely to anything or anyone. Somewhere along the line, my “on” button was turned “off” almost completely.

A very common misconception with me is that I am “sweet” and“nice”, which somehow loosely translates to “passive”. I’m not. Not on any count. However, I’d allowed therapy and the tools I had learned there to take the fiercer aspects of who I am away. I’d become less apt to say “Fuck you.” and more apt to say nothing. There’s only so much you can hold in before you lose it. A few months ago, I LOST IT. However, in the loss, I also gained.

Sometimes you have to be reminded of exactly who you are and what you’re capable of. You need those reminders, otherwise life becomes monotonous and you have no answers or problem-solving abilities. You’re so wrapped up in being a tame pet, that you forget how fierce you are. You forget all the things you have done, and continue to do. It’s an easy mistake, and easily corrected.

I think therapy is good if you truly need it for very serious issues. I thought my anger WAS a very serious issue, but therapy taught me that I was angry at the right things and the right people, that the anger was not self-directed. However, it did turn me into something I am not, and in many respects, I’m glad to no longer be going weekly, even though I still feel I had finally found someone great. Maybe in the future, I will return.

But for now, what you read is what you get. This is who I am. I might not have a vicious reaction to everything and everyone, I don’t usually break out the “bitch card”, but I am fully capable of being a complete version of myself now. I’ve been reminded that it’s okay to honor my emotions and be myself. It takes nothing away from me to be angry at the right time, directing it at the right person, and not allowing it to BE me.

Generally, I’m not an angry, hateful, mean person. If you push me, I will unleash my wrath, but generally, I’m pretty laid back. Intense, yes. Fierce, absolutely. I can’t sit and be a tame little bunny, I have to be me.

From here on out, if something is going on in my life, no matter how good or bad, I feel capable of handling it. I was always capable of handling it, I simply needed to be reminded that I’m lethal.

Mess with me, and the poison flows. Stay on my good side, and you will receive loyalty and respect. It’s probably easier for everyone to stay on one side, as opposed to the other. I’ve noticed recently that I’ve become a little more fierce than usual, but I’m accepting of that. In fact, I now fully see that there’s nothing wrong with it.

Looking in the mirror each day and being the absolute best version of yourself is, above all else, the most important thing you can do.

Honor yourself and honor those in your life. Be you, be untamed, be honest, be real, don’t be a fucking pet!

Right Now

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Sometimes, the most important thing I need is silence. Having finished that hellacious read-through, I am glad to be able to be done with it and be able to put it behind me. One of the most important things I have learned about reading a truly raw manuscript is that as a writer, I truly know what works and what doesn’t. This particular client seems to only want people to kiss his ass and tell him how fabulous his work is. I have to be honest. There were some well-written parts on the character end of things, but mostly I felt like someone had handed me half of a book, or maybe even a third of it, and said “What do you think of this? I want lots of feedback.” All I could think at the end was “What the fuck did I MISS here?!” I later learned he’d hired several other people to read different sections of the book, as opposed to hiring ONE person to read the entire book. Yeah, that’s more than half-assed to me, but whatever. Not my monkeys, not my circus.

Since that job came to a close, it’s given me some time to respond to e-mails and look over my own manuscript. I sat here earlier reading the first few chapters and was so immersed in the story, I forgot who’d written it. That is the mark of a great story teller. If I can completely forget it’s my own work, I have done something really special. I saved some extra bits I wrote, and exited the program with a smile on my face.

In a completely non-arrogant, non-cocky way, these past two jobs have shown me that I am not a hack. I’m experienced, I have talent, and I know how to put a story together. Yes, some people write their first book and totally knock it out of the park, and others write in different genres for YEARS before they ever write their first book. I think the most important thing is that I see who I am now, very clearly, and I’m proud of that person, that writer. I have grown. I’ve exceeded my own expectations, and that’s truly something special.

I look forward to what each job brings me in terms of self-awareness because I might be helping other writers polish their work, but what I’m really doing is shining my own diamond. I’m proud of book one, and I am proud of the progress I am making on the other books as well. The fact that a few months ago, I was questioning my own progress, education, experience, and writing ability seems so ridiculous to me.

No, I didn’t go to Harvard to “be a writer” (Harvard was NEVER my dream.), but I’m also not lacking in anything. Everyone’s journey is different, and that’s okay. People can criticize me, and they can say what they will, but at the beginning and end of each day, I know who I am.

I’m many things, but in the grand scheme of it all…I AM A WRITER. Color me discovered!

A Single Sentence…

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Coming Out Of The Ancestral “Closet”

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Coming Out of The Ancestral “Closet”

I find it more than a little appalling that in 2014, I am still being asked “What are you?” Not “What religion are you?” or your average, inappropriate social questions, which, by my standards, are still rude. No, it’s always been “What ARE you?”, with such profound emphasis, as if I am my own species. It’s become ridiculous, and as we’ve established, I am not a patient woman.

Growing up in New York City; a small, fair skinned, dark blue eyed, dark haired child, I was utterly adorable. I have pictures to prove it. My peaches & cream complected, blonde, hazel eyed mother was very clear in my genes, but so was my olive skinned, raven haired, dark brown eyed father. I was clearly a genetic mix of my parents and maternal Grandparents. For years, my eyes had that perfect Asian up-tilt, a gift of my Tribal Siberian and Mongolian ancestry, something that I now enhance with carefully applied eyeliner when I have the patience to do so. I was about six years old when they changed in color from dark blue to hazel. It normally doesn’t take such a long period of time for a child’s eye color to change.

Where am I going with this? Well, I will tell you. I’ve known for about 8 years now that I am indeed part Latina. I have absolutely no reason to hide it or not discuss it if it comes up in conversation, especially now that Spain and Portugal are allowing Jews to return for citizenship. I have to say, I was very sorely tempted to pack my bags and leave.

Growing up, everyone assumed I was either 100% Puerto Rican or 100% Italian. I am neither. In fact, I’m not 100% anything. I am so blended, I should have my own flag. My Latina roots come from Spain (Zaragoza) and Argentina (Buenos Aires).

Several months ago, while filling out some forms I checked the Caucasian box, as I’ve done my entire life, and followed up with Hispanic on the second portion of the form. It is truly the first time I’d ever done it, but I simply felt like not putting it down was to lie, and it bothered me, so I checked the box proudly. The woman handling the paperwork looked at me immediately and said “You’re Sephardic?!”, with such utter disbelief as she looked at the color of my skin and eyes, that I glanced up briefly from filling out the forms and said “I am Ashkenazi, Sephardic, Russian Siberian, and Jewish Asian.” In truth, that’s not even the half of it, but it was short and to the point. I didn’t owe her an explanation of my lineage, but I’d be damned if I was going to be treated any differently.

Really, why the hell does anyone give a shit?! Why did she? I later found out that as an immigrant to this country, she did not want anyone knowing she was Sephardic. I was slightly astounded, but anyone who is at an age where their Grandparents or parents may have died during the Holocaust is probably still hiding what they are. Having been born here, I suppose I do not feel the need to hide. I’ve never felt the need to do so, not ancestrally or religiously.

People tend to forget that Latinas come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some are blonde and blue eyed, some are more like me, and others are dark haired, dark eyed, and always look naturally tan. I cannot tan to save my life, and since I detest sun damage and the sun on a whole, I religiously wear sun protection. Some of us speak Ladino, Yiddish, Spanish, Portuguese, or older versions of various languages. Some of my cousins, also Sephardic, speak French (My brother does, I do not.). I grew up in a bilingual home, my closest family friends did too, and they all spoke Spanish. I spent years studying other languages, and am now teaching my brother Italian, Russian, Ukrainian, and Spanish. I understand languages I don’t speak, but I base that on the fact that some of them are incredibly similar. I have been trying to learn Swedish for a couple of years now. Not for any other reason than I think it’s beautiful when spoken. Welsh is next on my list.

I’m a great observer of others, but I try very hard not to judge people based on race or religion. Everyone is an individual. If you treat me like shit, I am not going to judge your ethnic background for that, just you. If you treat me well, I’m not going to automatically assume that everyone like you will show the same kindness and respect.

I have friends from all walks of life, and I accept and respect them for their individuality. I don’t care where a person is from, so long as we treat each other with respect and courtesy. Most of the people in my life who are closest to me are not American born or American citizens (though I can now say for a fact that more are). Two of my best friends are Israeli and German. My boyfriend holds dual citizenship. He is Welsh born, returns to Wales several times a year to visit older relatives, but is not an American citizen. His parents and siblings are not American citizens either, but they’re some of the loveliest people, and to me, that’s all that matters.

I have a friend who, for damn near our entire friendship, would openly declare herself Hispanic “From SPAIN!”, she’d tell people loudly. She’s also part Cherokee, which shows. Honestly, it doesn’t matter, but now that our friendship has declined so badly, I have noticed more and more that she is embracing the fact that her ancestry is actually Mexican. It’s always been pretty evident to me, but would I ever have said a word to her about it? No. That’s disrespectful. That’s like catching me on a dumb day and then pointing out that I have some Polish ancestry. It’s rude and it’s not something you say or do.

I think what bothered me the most about her saying it so often is that people would ask her if she was Hawaiian, saying that she looked “exotic”, and I’d then think of Stefanie, one of my best friends, who is Native Hawaiian. There’s a definite difference, not just in looks, but in so much more. She is not simply born and raised there, you can see her Hawaiian and Japanese ancestry in her hair, eyes, skin, and beauty. It shines like a beacon. Her Italian mother, we often joke, barely got a gene in. Between her and her siblings, she is the one who most looks like her father’s side of the family. For the previously aforementioned friend, ancestry and honoring it is clearly a big issue, so I never, ever tried to make her feel uncomfortable, nor did I ever press her on it. I feel it is something to honor and show respect, not hide from or deny, but that’s me and my otherworldly view since I’m still being asked “What ARE you?”

The next time someone says that to me, I might very well declare myself a vampire, purchase a really cool pair of colored contacts from Italy, and not say a word to anyone ever again, until the sun sets. Stupid questions deserve stupid answers, do they not?

So, this is me. Part Latina. Owning it, not ashamed, remembering to use my Spanish instead of forgetting that I can speak it, completely unconcerned if my honoring it bothers someone else. It’s my genes, my ancestry, and if you’ve taken issue with it, fuck off!

Domestic Violence: It’s Always Going To Be Personal

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Domestic Violence: It’s Always Going To Be Personal

I don’t talk about my personal life on this platform much. You’d really have to know me and be able to read between the lines to pick up on subtle nuances. However, there’s an issue that’s been bothering me and I have decided to open up here and confront it. This might trigger some people, so please read the title carefully and if that is too much for you, it’s okay to ignore this.

Originally I planned on writing this on another blog a year ago. I got side-tracked with other commitments at the time and whatever I had planned fell to the wayside. Not this time. This is the right place to publish it. I no longer feel safe on the other blog and quite frankly, what I have to say isn’t something to be judged by hundreds, least of all those who deem themselves superior. This is not a place for competition, it is a place for sharing, openness, and honesty.

It starts with a very simple comment, one that I’ve said many times before. I am a product of domestic violence. I’m not shy or quiet about it. If asked, I always tell the truth. I knew very early on as a child that there was something “really not normal” about my family life. I vividly remember the fighting, the words, trying not to be home, hating being home, and how things escalated to physical violence. It is one of the reasons I am a writer, it allowed me to “escape” and be fully in control, where no one else could touch me.

I wasn’t even 10 at the time, but I’d had enough. I was the protector. I would put my mother and brother behind me and say “Go ahead, hit me. But you’re NOT going to hit them.” I never knew if my father would reach a point where he’d lay a hand on my mother, but I wasn’t EVER going to find out.

There’s a very fine line between disciplining your children and abusing them. Not all abuse is physical or sexual in context. Some of it is emotional and verbal, and leaves the same type of permanent scarring. It follows you through life.

I would NEVER take anything away from someone who has been in a worse situation, I have no right to do so. All I can say is that I didn’t live their experience, I only lived mine. And yet, I understand, I relate, and I will not speak against your pain, I will only do what I can to support you.

What a lot of people don’t know about me is that I am still living with a form of domestic violence. No, I am not married to that person (I would NEVER tolerate abuse from someone that claimed to love me, and the person I am in a relationship with knows that. He’s known me since we were kids, so he also knows I’d knock his fucking teeth out if he so much as spoke to me out of turn. He also knows that’s not me being abusive or being a bitch, it’s simply a reaction. He knows not to sneak up on me, to announce his presence if I don’t sense him, and not to do anything that might make me react in a poor manner. He’s always known these things and he is incredibly respectful of “the boundaries”.), it is not coming from someone who claims to love me, but it IS coming from a family member who shall remain nameless.

Over the last few years, I have had guns and knives pulled on me regularly, a sword was recently held to my throat, and I am often covered in gruesome bruises. There’s a huge difference between bruises where I truly am being a klutz (I walk into the side of my bed or the foot of my bed OFTEN, but that’s ME, and it’s different.) and bruises where someone is intentionally harming me and later denying they ever laid a hand on me. I’m here to say that they have and they are.

This person has been abusive for a good 20 years or so. They are a product of their environment, and no, I am NOT defending that. I think it’s sick and warrants therapy and medication, all of which I have encouraged. I was later accused of “trying to be controlling” by suggesting medication and therapy. Seriously? That’s a fucked up response, but it also explains the mentality behind this person.

Whenever something happens, I am often asked “Why didn’t you call the police?” For one, I know my state laws. Unless I’m beaten bloody, the cops aren’t going to give a shit. You have to show them a history. Unless I go to the ER with broken bones, etc., the cops aren’t going to give a shit or even take a statement. Yes, this person DID fracture my wrist many years ago. The person that took me to the ER that day pleaded with me NOT to say anything to the nurse, doctor, or to press charges. I did not agree with them, but when the time came to speak, I don’t even remember what I said I’d done or what happened to cause the injury. Yes, I am VERY angry at myself for not putting a stop to it right then and there. Maybe things would be different today if I hadn’t had that voice in my head trying to control me.

Moreover, the person harming me can turn on a dime. One of his best friends is a cop, so one phone call and he’d be out of lock-up pretty fucking fast. Is that my only stance on it? No.

What will it take for me to call the police? More evidence. Bruises don’t mean shit to the police. I’d have to be calling them constantly on domestic disputes before they’d do anything, and I have yet to meet a police officer in my current state of residence that is willing to take me seriously. There’s something disturbing to me about a 5.3 ½” woman being harmed by someone twice her size and a hell of a lot taller and no one giving a shit about it, or having them think it’s a fucking joke. In fact, they’ve laughed and not believed me.

I’m not weak. Far from it. I will shoot this person if I have to, and when I fought back over a week ago, I ended up breaking a short sword. Fighting back prevented me from being harmed far worse than I was. This person didn’t care that they’d hurt me, they cared that the sword was damaged! That is the kind of sickness I am dealing with.

I don’t condone violence, but I have to be honest here, because this is serious. I sleep with knives close by. Knives that are bigger than my forearms. I sleep with a 500,000 volt Stun Gun. I keep the Glock locked up, only because it’s all too easy to shoot someone once they’ve pushed you to the point of no return. There’s no way in hell I’d only shoot once. I know myself, and I know that I’d empty a mag, reload, and keep going. That probably sounds awful, but it’s the truth. I know myself well enough to know that certain things will escalate. A gun can protect you, and it should, but I know that if I have to pull, that’s the end of it. My life is not worth that because to everyone else, this person is “normal”. Their ability to turn it on and off is terrifying to witness. Everyone likes or loves them, and that is sociopath 101.

With practically everyone else on the planet, this person is absolutely lovely. Genuine, funny, shirt-off-your back real, and the list goes on and on. The fact that they’ve threatened me in public and said things to me in public that no one has done anything about is quite disturbing. I get nothing, but violence and vitriol. I sought therapy for it, thinking it was me. Repeatedly I was told it was not me, that this person is the one that needs help and medication. And yet, there is no way to help them because they do not believe there is anything wrong with them. They believe I am the problem. I have medical professionals to back up the fact that, that simply isn’t true.

October is National Domestic Violence Month. It is now November 2nd and here I am to say, we shouldn’t just have one month a year where we openly discuss domestic violence. We should discuss it the second it happens, to whoever will listen and take us seriously, with whoever we trust. Don’t stop speaking until you are heard.

I don’t consider myself a victim because I do know how to protect myself. I consider myself a survivor. Unfortunately as women, we are almost always the physically smaller sex. We know this, so we teach ourselves and are taught to fight dirtier. I have some training to protect myself, but as I stated, this person is twice my size, and because they have martial arts training, they think nothing of throwing me down on the floor. In fact, they think it’s funny. I was recently thrown down onto a flight of stairs and dragged by my legs. Again, nothing, but laughter. There’s nothing funny about it.

I have decided to use photos to document proof, in case I ever need it. I am not posting any of them here because that’s not going to be helpful. I’m not even sure I’d legally be allowed to keep this post up if something happened, but I’d much rather someone hear it from me than see me on the 10:00 PM news and think “Wow, I never knew this was going on.” Don’t pity me. That’s not why I wrote this. I wrote it because I am empowered to put an end to all of this.

It is time to break the chain.

The Only Reason…

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“The only reason for being a professional writer is that you can’t help it.” –Leo Rosten

The Need For Silence

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Tomorrow is Samhain, which is Halloween for the uninitiated who can’t even pronounce what I just said. I’ve taken some time this week to be quiet, to look deeply within, and to give myself some space. Every year brings a new set of challenges, and I am hoping to embark on happier ones this time around. Simply put: I am sick of the crap. Every last ounce of it. I’m ready for positive change, happy change, and I am looking forward to putting a lot of unhappiness and negativity to rest.

My only plan for tomorrow is to try hard to finish the read-through I am doing, and catch up on some little things that need to be put in the mail. Beyond that, nothing. I want a quiet day, I want to light candles at dusk, and I want a night of quality sleep. I don’t need scary movies to “get into the spirit”. I’ve already seen Sons of Anarchy and Stalker this week, I’ve had my dose of gore and I’ve been thoroughly ‘creeped out’.

It probably seems odd for someone so young to be in such desperate need of silence, but it’s honest. I already bought sweets this week and they were for myself. Okay, so I shared, but you get the point. The actual Halloween aspect doesn’t reside in my home. Samhain, on the other hand, does. It’s when I honor my loved ones who have passed away and light candles of remembrance. It’s when I keep my cats close to me and SAFE. I don’t believe in having outdoor cats, I never have and I never will. That is a personal choice because I believe that if you are going to have any kind of pet, you should do what is absolutely best for him/her and their overall well-being. When you rescue, you should give them a safe home. Last year there was a lot of concern over black cats being harmed. I own an all-black British Bombay who is the sweetest, most laid back little girl, so it’s even more important to me to keep her safe and sound. I don’t ever want my cats to know “the street life” again, which is precisely why I adopted them. You save a life, but you also save bits of yourself in the process.

Also, I have a very dear friend in the hospital, and I want to make sure I say a special prayer for her recovery. I’m breaking out the big guns on this one! 🙂

So, if there isn’t another post this month, enjoy the holiday however you choose to embrace it and keep yourself and those you hold dear safe & sound.

Bright Blessings.

It Is Just A Chapter…

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Scorpions Mean Business

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People often ask me why my name on WordPress is “ScorpionGlow”. Well, I’ll tell you.

For one, I am a Scorpio. In fact, today is my birthday.

Two, scorpions glow. Of the 1750 known species, almost all of them will show up under a black UV light, thus, giving off the impression that they glow in the dark. If you know an actual Scorpio, I’m pretty sure there is something about them that shines brighter than that of non-Scorpios. That’s not arrogance talking, it’s fact. Put me in a room with 50 people, I will always choose to be around other Scorpios. I can pin-point them down to the last detail, because I know my sign so well.

Scorpions have existed for 430 million years, which explains why Scorpios are such intense survivors. Only 25 of the known species are venomous. Spend an hour with me, I will probably zing or sting, all depending on how you behave towards me.

Scorpios are intensely loyal. We are “ride or die” types of people in our relationships and friendships, but don’t EVER get yourself on the opposite side of that, because it is a very dangerous place to be. People often mistake our personalities for something they really aren’t. People almost always assume I am sweet and nice. I’m not. I might do nice things, but I’m pretty sure only the mosquitos believe I’m “sweet”.

Many non-Scorpios like to tell the story of the Scorpion & the Frog. I’ve heard many different variations of it over the years to the point that it annoys me. No, I won’t sting you “because it’s in my nature”, but if you push my buttons, be prepared for the outcome because I do not back down and I will tell you precisely how things are. I might not kill you, but you’ll certainly wish for it sooner or later. A very common saying in astrology is “Hell hath no fury like a Scorpio scorned.” Slightly apropos. Push me to the point of no return, and the stinger comes out. I am well aware of my own venom, and how I come off as a person.

Scorpio is the sign of rebirth and transformation. We are one of only a few astrological signs with two ruling planets, Mars & Pluto. We share Mars with Aries. The three animals representative of the sign are scorpions, eagles, and the mythological Phoenix. Some people also associate the wolf. I do not. It is believed that the serpent in the Garden of Eden was cut in two, the head becoming the symbol for Virgo, with the tail becoming the symbol for Scorpio. Both signs, interestingly enough, are a part of my personal birth chart. If you’ve never had one done professionally, and you’re interested, ask me about it. I do them.

Each form of astrology, from Celtic to Native American, links Scorpio to different things, but most of the traits remain the same. It is presumed that we are all jealous, vengeful, aggressive beings. I learned a long time ago that in order to conquer the negative aspects of my sign, I needed to learn to keep my jealousy in check. Ever since then, I have evolved into one of the most un-jealous people you’ll ever meet. It helps keep me grounded. I’m not saying I don’t occasionally have a flare-up, I do, but it fizzles out so quickly that it can make your significant other think he/she isn’t loved enough. That’s actually not the case. There is a difference between fierce passion and jealousy. There is a difference between persistence and aggressiveness.

I often feel sorry for those who are so incredibly intimidated by those who are born under this sign. People often assume I am one way, only to get to know me and discover I’m the exact opposite. It’s interesting to see people be so surprised. Intimidating is often a word used to describe me. I am well aware of it when I’m doing it on purpose, but mostly it’s just me carrying myself with confidence. Regardless of your sun sign, all women should be able to go out in this world and hold their head up high, look people in the eyes, and not give a rat’s ass what someone thinks of them. Some men may have confidence problems, but they don’t have to worry as much about what others think of them because, by proxy, men are judged less than women are. It’s a very sad truth.

When it comes to astrology, everyone is different. However, as a Scorpio, I am in some pretty talented, fierce company. I am certain I will miss someone here and there, but that is not intentional.

October 23rd: Johnny Carson, Meghan McCain, Ryan Reynolds, Weird Al Yankovic, Amandla Stenberg, Cat Deeley

October 24th: Monica, Drake, Adrienne Bailon, Tila Tequila, Kevin Kline, B.D. Wong, Katie McGrath, Shanae Grimes

October 25th: Antony Starr, Marion Ross, Minnie Pearl, Persia White, Mariana Klaveno, Katy Perry, Ciara, Mehcad Brooks, Pablo Picasso, Conchita Campbell

October 26th: Mahalia Jackson, Hillary Clinton, Keith Urban, Dylan McDermott, Rita Wilson, Carey Elwes, Steve Valentine, Bob Hoskins, Natalie Merchant, Jon Heder

October 27th: Theodore Roosevelt, Emily Post, Kelly Osbourne, Sylvia Plath, John Gotti

October 28th: Bill Gates, Julia Roberts, Joaquin Phoenix, Troian Bellisario, Bruce Jenner

October 29th: Jonas Salk, Bob Ross, Winona Ryder, Ben Foster, Randy Jackson, Gabrielle Union

October 30th: Ivanka Trump, Janel Parish, John Adams, Ezra Pound, Nastia Liukin, Harry Hamlin, Henry Winkler, Kevin Pollak, Matthew Morrison

October 31st: Piper Perabo, Jane Pauley, Dermot Mulroney, Dale Evans, Deidre Hall, Rob Schneider, John Candy

There is wide speculation that Christopher Columbus was either born on October 30th or October 31st.

November 1st: David Foster, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, Jenny McCarthy, Penn Badgley, Lyle Lovett, Toni Collette

November 2nd: Marie Antoinette, Marisol Nichols, K.D. Lang, Nelly, David Schwimmer

November 3rd: Kate Capshaw, Dennis Miller, Elizabeth Smart, Colin Kaepernick, Kendall Jenner

November 4th: Former First Lady Laura Bush, Kathy Griffin, Bethenny Frankel, Doris Roberts, Sean “Diddy” Combs, Matthew McConaughey, Ralph Macchio

November 5th: Vivian Leigh, Art Garfunkel, Roy Rogers, Tilda Swinton, Kevin Jonas, Bryan Adams, Tatum O’Neal, Kris Jenner

November 6th: John Philip Sousa, Pat Tillman, Emma Stone, Maria Shriver, Rebecca Romijn, Ethan Hawke, Sally Field, Lamar Odom

November 7th: Marie Curie, Joni Mitchell, Billy Graham, Christopher Knight, David Guetta, Tinie Tempah, Adam DeVine

November 8th: Bram Stoker, Gordon Ramsey, Kamar de los Reyes, Jack Osbourne, Mary Hart, Bonnie Raitt, Parker Posey, Jessica Lowndes

November 9th: Carl Sagan, Hedy Lamarr, Jean Monnet, Nick Lachey, Vanessa Lachey, Eric Dane, Chris Jericho, French Montana

November 10th: Miranda Lambert, Walton Goggins, Martin Luther, Tracy Morgan, Ellen Pompeo, Brittany Murphy, Mackenzie Phillips, Sam Waterston

November 11th: Kurt Vonnegut, Victor Cruz, Calista Flockhart, Leonardo DiCaprio, Demi Moore, Stanley Tucci

November 12th: Richelle Mead, Grace Kelly, Neil Young, Ryan Gosling, Anne Hathaway

November 13th: Whoopi Goldberg, Gerard Butler, Garry Marshall, Jordan Bridges, Chris Noth, Jimmy Kimmel

November 14th: Claude Monet, Prince Charles, Condoleeza Rice, Rev Run, Graham Patrick Martin, Veronica Lake, Josh Duhamel, Travis Barker, Laura San Giacomo

November 15th: Randy Savage, Georgia O’Keeffe, Jonny Lee Miller, Shailene Woodley, Jimmy Choo, Roberto Cavalli, Beverly D’Angelo, Ray McKinnon, Chad Kroeger

November 16th: Brandi Glanville, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Oksana Baiul, Missi Pyle, Miguel Sandoval, Amare Stoudemire

November 17th: Jeff Buckley, David Ramsey, Martin Scorsese, RuPaul, Isaac Hanson, Rachel McAdams, Danny DeVitto, Ryan Braun, Evelyne Brochu

November 18th: Steven Pasquale, Owen Wilson, Elizabeth Perkins, Chloë Sevigny, David Ortiz, Mike Epps

November 19th: Calvin Klein, Jodie Foster, Meg Ryan, Ted Turner, Larry King, Patrick Kane

November 20th: Emilio Pucci, Robert F. Kennedy, Joe Biden, Bo Derek, Joel McHale

November 21st: Voltaire, Goldie Hawn, Jena Malone, Carly Rae Jepsen

November 22nd: Jamie Lee Curtis, Tyler Hilton, Mark Ruffalo, Scarlett Johansson

An impressive list of names for an incredibly note-worthy sign.

From now until November 2nd, I will be spending my time as I see fit. I encourage everyone to take a bit of confidence from this sign and see how empowering it really is.