Women
All Successful Men And Women
“All successful men and women are big dreamers. They imagine what their future could be, ideal in every respect, and then they work every day toward their distant vision, that goal or purpose.” -Brian Tracy
10 Facts Every Woman Should Know
10 Facts Every Woman Should Know:
1. Everyone has rolls when they bend over.
2. When someone tells you that you’re beautiful, believe them. They aren’t lying.
3. Sometimes we all wake up with breath that could kill a goat.
4. For every woman unhappy with her stretch marks is another woman who wishes she had them.
5. You should definitely have more confidence. And if you saw yourself the way others see you, you would.
6. Don’t look for a man to save you. Be able to save yourself.
7. It’s okay to not love every part of your body….but you should.
8. We all have that one friend who seems to have it all together. That woman with the seemingly perfect life. Well, you might be that woman to someone else.
9. You should be a priority. Not an option, a last resort, or a backup plan.
10. You’re a woman. That alone makes you pretty damn remarkable. -Austin Blood
Insomnia & Painsomnia: A Wicked Combination
Whenever there’s something stressful going on in my life, it often affects my sleep, thus turning me into a shadow of my former self. Insomniac Lisa and Painsomnia Lisa are two very different beasts from the person I am when I’m able to prioritize sleep, and actually get into bed each night at a decent hour. I’m never 100% pain-free, but sleep is a crucial part of how my body recovers from what I do to it each day. I have worked my ass off this past month and lost roughly 20 pounds, somehow managing to strengthen my upper back muscles in the process.
Unfortunately for the past month, my sleep has been insanely erratic. First it was major moving stress, liable to affect even the calmest person in the world, of which I openly admit is not me. Then it was my brother’s pre-hospitalization health, closely followed by getting the phone call that he would need open-heart surgery or a transplant. It’s normal to have things like that affect you on many levels health-wise. Let’s face facts: No one expects someone young to be told that their heart is at 11% capacity. An entire team of doctors and surgeons and two different hospitals told him he was 10-15 years too early for such a severe issue. All of this crap has been screwing with me day and night and thus far, nothing I’ve done is helping. To add insult to injury, I have had a migraine since the day before Thanksgiving. I currently feel as if my head is in its very own torture chamber, taking my body along for the ride. 😦
When my brother was first released from the hospital, my sleep schedule had already shifted due to late-night texting and phone calls when he was still hospitalized and feeling lonely late at night, before his final dose of pain meds took over. There were many times I had to suggest he watch something on TV (“It’s almost 10 PM, here are three shows you can watch tonight. I have GOT to get some sleep!”), and then mute the ringer on my phone as opposed to allowing it to vibrate, so I could go to bed without the phone buzzing for hours. Now he’s here 24/7, and he’s driving me insane.
He’s not doing anything in particular to make me crazy (though I wish he’d remember that his legs are fine and he can get up and pour his own damn drinks!), he just happens to be in my personal space, and I crave privacy and silence. He’s mortified that I disinfected the remote, but since I don’t want him getting sick and he’s using it and I’m using it as well, I figured it was a wise decision. It is cold & flu season and while he is currently not in contact with other people several days a week, I am, and that can pose a problem for him if I bring something into the house that I did not leave with.
The other night he fell asleep while I was talking to him (I wasn’t boring him, he was simply in a lot of pain.). It was super early, but I felt that was the perfect time to cover him with a few extra blankets (It’s cold here most nights, and even when it’s not, he’s complaining that he’s cold.), and sneak off into the silence that is my normal routine. Alas, he got about three hours of sleep and I was wide awake. The second I thought about going to sleep, he was moaning in pain and when I checked on him, he was messaging someone on his tablet, with the TV on lighting up three rooms.
After a highly stressful week, I was finally in bed at a decent hour last night. As soon as I’d dispensed the last pain pill of the day, my head was on the pillow. Unfortunately, the previously aforementioned migraine decided to kick things up a notch and a little after 2:00 a.m., I woke up in unimaginable pain. I have no idea how I am attempting to type this, much less see.
My first line of defense is to attempt to get some caffeine into my system. It’s the only thing I haven’t sought out or used to treat this particular pain level, when it would normally be something I thought about a bit more closely. No, last night I was too far gone, so I took something less targeted that, as a last resort, often helps. Clearly it only helped part of me. 😦 So, I am nursing caffeinated tea and I took two Excedrin Tension Headache capsules. Not because I have a tension headache as opposed to a migraine, I know the difference, but because sometimes that combination works for me and nips the migraine in the bud. It’s not a permanent solution, but nothing really is. If it doesn’t start working in an hour or so, I will take a third.
It astounds people that I have managed to learn how to work through some of my worst migraines, or that I put myself into the head space to focus on healing one. I look at it this way: I am not going out and triggering the headache to be any worse than it already is. I am home, I’m safe, I can control the environment (noise level, light, temperature), and I know not to move around too much, but can I sit at a darkened laptop screen and talk about it? Sometimes, yes. That doesn’t diminish the intensity of the migraine, it does not mean I don’t suffer from migraines (three neurologists and two other doctors are all in agreement that I suffer from migraines. They have gotten worse since my first diagnosis, so there’s nothing else it could be. Everything else has been ruled out.), and it also doesn’t mean it’s “just a headache”. On occasion, like most sufferers, I will get a dull headache. Unfortunately, dull can go to extremes pretty quickly, so I take all headache forms seriously. I don’t walk around denouncing other people’s pain either. If a person says they have a headache, but quickly says “I don’t get migraines like you do.”, I still wouldn’t tell them it was “no big deal”. Pain is pain. No one likes it and for those of us that endure it 24/7, I have seen people empathize with others openly, and I have also seen people blow off the pain of others because they somehow feel it is their right in life to be the one person on the planet who has it far worse than the rest of us. Sorry, but that couldn’t possibly be true, or you’d be dead. What may be indeed true is that everyone’s threshold for pain is different. In fact, I know this to be true.
In studies, it has been determined that women tolerate pain differently from their male counterparts. Not better, not worse, just different. Taking into consideration that the female body can push out a human-being during the process of giving birth, that’s not an immense surprise to me.
All of my heavily tattooed male friends had their jaws on the floor when I sat through my first four tattoos and described the pain as “No worse than a cat scratch.” You see, I chose a spot that most of them found to be extremely painful. They all told me to put my ink somewhere else, that the pain would be too much for me to endure, especially considering I suffer from Fibromyalgia, but I’d consulted with several artists who, like me, believed that my first tattoo should be someplace easily covered up with clothing. However, never to do things the simple way, I got my first four all at the same time. I wouldn’t even rate that a one on my personal pain scale. I’ve had more painful piercings.
As many of you also suffer from migraines, has anyone gotten a Daith piercing to try to combat them? Compared to all the medication, a myriad of supplements that may or may not be useful to the individual, various treatment methods, Botox, acupuncture, etc., the piercing itself, depending on where one goes, is between $50-$100. I am being told that it works for 50% of the people who get it, but I am also being told the relief is temporary, though some people are reporting themselves migraine-free 3-7 years post-piercing. I have decided to try acupuncture for a year to see if that spot along either of my ears responds to treatment. My insurance covers it, which is rare, so I am going to take the opportunity to use it first. I’m not sure I need another hole in my head, but I’d be interested in hearing whether or not the piercing has helped anyone. If you’re considering getting this particular piercing, please go somewhere highly reputable and have someone experienced do the piercing itself. The report of infection with this spot is very high, and I’d hate for anyone to go through that. I’ve only had three piercings in my life that gave me problems. Luckily they never got infected, but two of them bled for years if someone hugged me too hard, and the third still gives me problems on occasion (The fact that I share the piercing with a highly toxic person is probably why… I’m a big believer in energy. Sometimes we are healthier overall without certain people in our lives.). While most piercings are mainly decorative, there is no medical or scientific evidence that a Daith piercing is a cure for migraines, so don’t read into all of the Pinterest and Instagram “science”. Those are exclusively individual experiences, most of which are brand new. There’s no way of knowing what the long-term effects may be. For many, it is worth it for temporary relief. I’d rather explore a few additional options first.
Are there any alternative treatment methods that work best for your migraines? If so, what are they?
The day insomnia can be cured in any way, shape, or form, I will be on a line for that! Right next to the line for the great Fibro/Chronic Pain cure. Here’s hoping we see it in this lifetime.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
It’s Called…
“It’s called an inner voice for a reason. It’s the gnawing feeling inside your stomach telling you yes or no. It’s the one voice in your life that isn’t tampered by other’s biased opinions, scars, feelings, or thoughts. Go with it, you know yourself better than anyone ever does.” ―Hope Alcocer
“Am I Mean?”
This was the question I posed to one of my best friends the other morning when a friend said something stupid and I responded. If you make something public, don’t expect intelligent people not to make a statement. It’s common sense.
There’s a lot you can say to and in front of me. I will say ANYTHING to make my friends laugh or think and I’ll say things to be goofy, but there’s a time and a place for certain subject matter, and there are also boundaries I don’t cross. I say plenty of inappropriate shit in my daily life, but the difference is; I don’t say it publicly or in mixed company. I would NEVER intentionally say something that could be taken the wrong way and/or hurt someone. Moreover, on social media, it’s crucial not to do it.
I don’t give a fuck where you’re from, the use of the word “fag” is utterly inappropriate. Call it a fucking cigarette, but the second you say the word “fag”, you’re going to piss me off. You cannot tell me you’re trying to “adopt the language of your new country” because that’s a horrible excuse and you’re living somewhere on a visa, not as a citizen. If the Queen of England used that word in public, it would be just as offensive and wrong, and since your manners and breeding aren’t exactly up there, I suggest you stop trying to be something you’re not. My exact words were “You are not British, Scottish, or Irish and I strongly suggest not using that word in mixed company, as it is inappropriate.” In essence, don’t try to be something or someone you’re not.
“They don’t understand my English here, so I have to use their slang.” I communicate with Brits, Scots, and Irish people on a highly regular basis. Not once have they ever had a problem with my use of the English language. Perhaps my command is better. I don’t pretend to be something or someone I’m not. I certainly have my Britishisms. I always have, but in my day-to-day life you will hear me speak North American English (lest I offend someone), British English, Russian, Swedish, Yiddish, Spanish, Ladino, Italian, and French. On any given day, there are aspects of every language that are part of my daily vernacular. That’s who I am. It’s a sign of how I was raised and my education, not of trying to be anything other than myself. I do NOT blend in and I do not adhere to other people’s ideas of how I should be.
So, I consulted someone who knows me well to inquire if I was actually being mean, rude, or overly judgmental. Her response was: “No, you’re just really honest. If she can’t grasp the point, that’s on her, not you.” She found the entire ordeal as ridiculous as I did, but reacted the same way to the use of the word “fag” because it IS inappropriate.
The word was not used with malicious intent, however, in mixed company, I think one should put a lid on it.
My mind was completely blown when a 40 plus year old woman used the word “wee” to refer to her husband getting up to use the bathroom. “I’m in pain, but I’ll wait for hubby to wake up to take a pain pill because I’m scared to go downstairs by myself.” Are you fucking kidding me?! Are there rabid animals in your home, or is there a pillaging Viking in your midst? That is one of the most infantile, ludicrous statements I’ve ever heard.
Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m a 21st century, modern woman, but any time a woman tells me “I was strong and independent for seven years…until I met my husband.”, that makes me want to hurl. I have a four year old Goddaughter who isn’t afraid of the dark, of going downstairs in the middle of the night for a drink on her own, etc. And yet, a grown woman is afraid to get out of bed until her husband wakes up, as if being married means you are somehow protected and shielded from all the horrors of the world?! I am pretty sure I popped a blood vessel in my left eye reading that nonsense!
Being married should make you a better person, because that’s what your partner should want for you. Anyone who wants you completely reliant on them for every single thing is NOT a true partner. Being told you’re “allowed to visit hubby’s work on his lunch break” is controlling. That is not being a strong woman; that is being weak, childish, and ridiculous.
I have an incredibly low tolerance for shit like this. I will never be the little woman at home ironing for a man who is fully capable of ironing his own damn crap. This is not 1930. My maternal Grandmother may have been a homemaker, but that was an entirely different era and she & I certainly butted heads over the generational differences. My paternal Grandmother lost her husband to a heart attack when he was 40. She had a five year old and a fifteen year old to care for, so she worked two jobs and supported her children, making certain they never went without. She was sick and she worked her ass off every single day until she reached retirement age. In my eyes, that is strength.
I am sure many of you have nicknames for your spouses/partners, but “wifey” and “hubby” nauseate the crap out of me. The most anyone gets out of me is “Babe” or “Hon”, and even then, he’s pushing it. I do give people nicknames and I do tend to shorten names, but I’m not sickening to overhear. I don’t have to use baby talk to show my affection for someone. I don’t have to lose self-respect, dignity, and brain cells to prove that I love someone.
Case Study #1 gets called by his name, period. Many of my friends have nicknames, even if their names aren’t long. It’s a sign of affection if I’ve taken the time to give you a nickname, but referring to anyone in such an asinine manner is beyond me. Even Cat and Kitten have nicknames, and frankly, they have beautiful names, but sometimes I don’t see who is running in front of me or who is trying to trip me while I work, so I’ll say “Okay my little loves, knock it off. I know you’re here. Mommy loves you.” All they want is comfort and assurance, whereas an adult doesn’t need to be referred to like they’re a newborn. In fact, I’d NEVER do that to a newborn. No one spoke baby talk to me, and I turned out fairly well based on my family life. I was raised to be a strong woman, and that doesn’t stop no matter who is in my life.
Since this person is so incredibly fearful, I am going to be recommending that she seek therapy for her co-dependency and trauma issues. No, I am not joking. I’m a good friend and in order to continue being a good friend, sometimes you have to let a person know that they’re not healthy and that a different route needs to be taken.
Of course, I am sure she’ll have an excuse for not being able to do that, despite the fact that I have to hear about every doctor’s appointment she’s had since arriving, every meal she has cooked (I cook nearly every single day, give or take, and I truly don’t feel the need to report it to anyone, unless it was for a special occasion. Also, I don’t discuss it on Facebook.), complete with photos, and mentions every other fart she or her “hubby” have felt the need to report.
I may be tough, but I’m also fair. If you don’t want me to interject with a comment, don’t say stupid shit.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
5 Stroke Symptoms For Women
As a migraine sufferer and the daughter of a woman who suffered from countless strokes (more than the doctors were able to pinpoint when they found the damage), I am at very high risk for stroke. The other night, two of these symptoms happened to me. I tried very hard not to panic, which is much easier said than done, but I do suspect that at some point in the future, I will end up in the emergency room due to a stroke or a heart attack. I came into this world stressed, and life certainly hasn’t been a walk in the park for me since then.
I think it’s incredibly important for women to know the signs and not to ignore them if something feels off. Don’t go to sleep and think you’ll be better “tomorrow”. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Call 911, get your ass to the nearest hospital, and make sure you’re going to survive.
“Get Rid Of Your Americanisms”…
I am a firm believer that no matter where we’re from, it is always a part of who we are. The place where we grow up and spend our formative years is instilled in us, no matter how far away we may move.
As a Native New Yorker, you will never, ever hear me say I am from anywhere else on this planet. “Concrete jungle where dreams are made of…”
I’ve lived in other places over the years and to this day people still stay “You’re not from around here, are you?” I will never get rid of my subtle accent, and I refuse to allow anyone to make me feel self-conscious about it. I didn’t grow up easy, but I’m proud of where I’m from.
A friend of mine, after several years of “marriage” (I have a hard time calling it that), is immigrating to the United Kingdom. Her husband told her she had to “get rid of her Americanisms” because she will be “British”. I was utterly appalled reading her Facebook post, as if this was something cute. “Yes hubby bunny, I’ll get right on that.” I had a thought that went with that bit of submissive nausea, and I totally blame Jodi Ambrose for it. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 😛 (I’m kidding, slightly. It just goes to show you our minds are both in the gutter, and thank GOD for that! Make sure you read Jodi’s awesome Eulogy post. It is a work of art.)
I was quick to inform her that citizenship, which will take 2-3 years, as she will be there temporarily on a spouse visa, will not make her British-born. She will never stop being a native of the country she was born in. That’s like me dying my hair blonde, moving to Finland, and claiming to be a native. No one would EVER believe me, so why pretend? Why would anyone ask you to change how you speak and how you think in order to make you something you’re never going to be, except on paper? It blows my mind.
She’s not American, but she was raised to speak American English and taught to aim for a better life. I told her she’s being brainwashed, and she is, because she’s willing to let someone a good 20 years older than her tell her how to think, write, spell, what to wear, eat, etc. Five years ago, she may have been single, but she knew how to think for herself. Now she has a “husband” with all of her passwords (If you’re one of “those types”, I strongly question your I.Q.) who is very quick to jump down anyone’s throat for reminding her that she has a mind of her own. I suspect there’s a reason he’s so controlling; and I don’t find anything cute or attractive about it. It’s worrisome, to say the least. Have we been over the fact that if you use the word “hubby” in my presence, I might lose my lunch? He’s British, shouldn’t she just refer to him as her “old man”? It’s what he is, let’s be technical.
Every friend I have that isn’t American born, but has dual-citizenship in this country, is the first to say “I’m Italian.” or “I’m Swedish.” They are proud of where they’re from, they’re proud of their U.S. citizenship, but that doesn’t stop them from also being themselves as people. They haven’t stopped saying “In my country…” no matter how long they’ve lived here. I find nothing wrong with that and I’d NEVER correct them or tell them to “adapt” or to change their method of thinking or their speech patterns. They are who they are, and I respect that. They can lapse into any language they want to speak in front of me, I do not find it offensive, its merely force of habit. They do it in front of husbands, wives, children, etc. It is what it is. But when someone is controlling you, it’s a whole other ballgame and it’s NOT okay. There’s a reason men don’t talk to me like that; it’s because they value their natural teeth and the family jewels.
Maybe submissive women is a thing I’m unaware of. I was not raised to be a passive, submissive, unquestioning, brainless, giggling little fool. If being a wallflower spouse/partner does it for you, well good for you, but it repulses me. Even when a man is super quiet and lets someone run roughshod over him, it’s repulsive to me. When people make their relationship your business by publicly discussing their life via social media, they should expect people to chime in. Her husband attacked me once for being honest with her and I told her if he ever did it again, he’d be sorry for it because her friendships aren’t his business. I’ve been friends with her for over 20 years. I’m not going to blow smoke up her ass. Good friends tell you the truth.
He got her a puppy about ten months ago and she is leaving three animals behind in another country to be taken care of “by family”, with no intent to bring them to England whatsoever. That too, is absolutely disgusting and heartless to me. I suggested re-homing all of them so that they could have good lives and her response was “This will be our vacation home, we’ll be back here when we retire, so we’ll see them when we come back.” I have NO IDEA what dream world she’s living in, but in my world, you don’t leave animals behind. That is cruel and evil. She has no guarantees whatsoever that her “family” is going to take care of her home and animals. I do not want to hear how that ends, but I’m sure I will.
When you truly love someone, you don’t tell them they need to change, unless it’s for health reasons via doctor’s orders. When you truly have someone’s best interests at heart, you realize that they’re uprooting their entire life to live in a foreign country for you and that it’s an immense sacrifice. They’re not “visiting”, though I already know the outcome of this story.
I am not good with “yes people”. It physically makes me ill when women behave like that in relationships, especially when they genuinely mean it. It’s not like the sarcasm of “Yes, dear.” that many American women use. Most of us say it, but we don’t actually mean that we’re going to wash, fold, and iron your underwear for you. If you do wash, fold, and iron someone’s underwear, I hope he’s paying you incredibly well, or he’s your son and you want him to look his best. Whatever floats your boat. <rolls eyes>
Wherever you are from, BE YOU. Don’t ever let anyone, not even a spouse, tell you there’s something wrong with that. My best friends are almost all overseas, and I love them like sisters. I would never tell any of them they have to change their speech, thoughts, views, etc., to be anything more than who they are as people. One of my best friends does hope to achieve American citizenship at some point in the future, which I will support, encourage, and assist with in terms of helping her study American history so she can pass her tests (She’ll probably learn way more than I ever did, or more than I can remember.). I want her to achieve that dream and be able to live out her days with an American passport if that’s what she desires. Why not? In my mind, if a friend has a dream, you help them to the best of your ability if they’re unsure if it is attainable or not. You support and encourage. Moreover, as a life partner, I cannot ever imagine turning to a man and saying “Could you not be Welsh, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Swedish…”, etc. and don’t speak the language in front of me “because you’re AMERICAN NOW!” Not only is that rude beyond words, but it’s disrespectful.
If you’ve been with a person for a while and marry them or live with them, then you pretty much know what you’re getting into. Yes, they’re going to have odd little quirks that will drive you crazy, but if someone is going to be a psycho control-freak, you might want to re-think how you’re treated and have a major discussion about respect and boundaries because being told you’re not good enough unless you do A,B, C, D, and E is utterly unacceptable.
When I hear crap like this and a woman accepts it like that’s what you do in a marriage, either to avoid conflict or to be a submissive dumbass, it 100% makes me want to say “FUCK NO!” the next time someone asks me to marry them.
No matter where I go in life, no matter where I live, no matter who I’m in a relationship with, I intend to continue being a badass bitch. Take it or leave it, gents.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Skype Conversations: Part I
Him: Hey babe, what are you doing?
Me: Trying to draw Kylie Jenner’s lips.
Him: WHO?
Me: It requires more lip liner than five people have ever tried using in the 90’s.
Him: Is this a friend I haven’t met?
Me: No. Why?
Him: Well, there’s nothing wrong with your lips, so I don’t understand why you’re still drawing… What the hell did you do to them?
Me: I just told you: Kylie Jenner, lip liner. See?
Him: You don’t need lip liner, you have full lips.
Me: Excuse me?
Him: That’s a good thing- for a woman. You know, ’cause they thin with age.
Me: Learn that in a textbook, did you? (wipes off liner and lip balm)
Him: How did this go so badly so quickly?
Me: Don’t ask me why I’m doing something weird at 2:00 in the morning when I can’t sleep.
Him: Okay. How was your day?
Me: I do not recall, but whatever happened I am sure it led to the insanity of people believing that lip liner and lip injections could ever be similar.
Him: You’ve completely lost me…
Me: You heard me.
Him: You did NOT get lip injections. Tell me you didn’t do something so stupid.
Me: No, I did not get lip injections or they’d be visibly swollen, but thanks ever so much for letting me know that somewhere in my future is thin lips. At least something will be perfectly thin.
Him: I think I have a headache. Why are writers so difficult?
Me: I’m sorry, did you mumble something?
Him: Who, me?
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.









