Because I have a Va-Jay-Jay…

Angelism: “Because I have a vagina anything you can do, I can do better!!!”

What I love so much about my man is he understands that the reason I can be nuts sometimes is because I have a vagina. Since having a penis is his excuse for every jackass thing he does, I take great pleasure in passing the buck off to my Va-Jay-Jay. Here is a list of reasons for my occasional female wackiness.
1) Because I have a vagina, I have random cravings for weird foods at any given time. It may be sugar, it may be salt, it may be a potato chip dipped in ice cream. Don’t question my need for cheese enchiladas and chips at 9am just go with it.
2) Because I have a vagina everything must be clean and organized my way. Yes, he can put stuff away, make the bed and do the dishes but I always have and will do it better. Accept it, I do.
3) Because I have a vagina I can spend two hours at Bed Beth and Beyond and walk out with nothing since I could not find what I was looking for. I can then go to Target and shop for another two hours and spend 300 plus dollars getting new kitchen stuff, clothes, food, books, CD’s and possibly a new lamp that I had no idea we needed. You better support my shopping habits because there is a reason for every single thing I purchase and the reasons are valid.
4) Because I have a vagina I must plan everything. I plan vacations, parties, events, date nights, even grocery store trips. A “To-do List” is my best friend. If I don’t plan, I know it won’t get done. My plan is the right way and I am in control from start to finish, deal with it. Do as you are told and you will remain good in my eyes.
5) Because I have a vagina you can’t ever comment on my weight or my age. Don’t tell me I look like I put on a few pounds or I will punch you in the face. Mention my age and I will go off on you so bad you will wish you were dead. Keep weight and age out of every conversation always if you want to keep your balls safe.
6) Because I have a vagina I’m supposed to be maternal. NOT gonna happen. Sometimes I run out of patience and anyone who disagrees with me, including little kids running around the house, better run far and fast. If you don’t do as I say for the third time today then maternal kindness goes out the window and “Evil Superwoman” takes over. I wish you luck when this happens.
7) Because I have a vagina I must always look and feel cute. I want my nails done, my hair stylish, and my clothes looking good. I want to be complimented for being adorable. It’s perfectly reasonable to have a bad day just because your toe-nail polish is smudged. Quit complaining about my complaining and compliment me on my beautiful smile so I forget about my jacked-up toe-nail polish. 🙂
8) Because I have a vagina I like girlie movies. I like to cry at stories that touch my heart and feel real even though mentally I know they are fake and made only for the big screen. I have roller coaster emotions and some days they are more apparent then others but that’s the joy of womanhood. If I cry, hug me and tell me I’m cute.
9) Because I have a vagina I suffer from PMS, bloating, and cramps which is hell about ten days out of the month. During this time I feel that my man should kiss my ass knowing 120 days out of a year I feel like crap all for the sake of maybe having one of his little pain in the ass children.
10) Because I have a vagina I will go through menopause and hopefully I will not kill anyone in the process. The hot flashes I will suffer will force me to overheat and make decisions under intense pressure. Being off balance hormonally does not help the situation and feeling old and unable to produce babies is pretty much a woman’s death sentence so fuck off for complaining that I will be moody. Love me and deal with it.
11) Because I have a vagina, my underwear and pants get sweaty and might smell like fish. Yes, some days are better than others for munching box. You guys should know that by now. No need to remind me how pungent my stench is after a workout or right before my period. I am aware, I live with my Va-Jay-Jay. By the looks of it, it’s basically a second ass crack so I would not expect it to smell like roses if I were you.
12) Because I have a vagina I think I can kick your ass in a fight. Somehow I am determined that if mad enough, I could lift a car, move a mountain, or punch through a door. Luckily that has not happened but my vagina tells me I have that strength and power to do so.
13) Because I have a vagina I like boy bands, Britney Spears and Lady Gaga. It may be repetitive, synthesized music but for my ears it’s good shit!
14) Because I have a vagina we never run out of toilet paper. NEVER, EVER, EVER!!!
15) Because I have a vagina I need sex too! Don’t dare come at me with your stick and expect me to take care of your needs all the time. I need to be warmed up and pleasured so be prepared to work on me until I get mine. If you are selfish in bed, my vagina will become your enemy and my resentment and hate for you will shine through so good luck living with me!
Betty White you are my HERO!!!

Love Is My Religion

Angelism: “Love is my religion; with a good heart, a good intention, and an open mind, love can conquer all.” 

Today I had a rush of emotions and all I wanted to do was hug all those around me and spread love. I saw the movie 42 and felt such an internal sadness watching so much hate during a very racist time. This is the third film in the last few years that I have seen that has left me with a heavy heart. The Help, Django Unchained, and 42 all address the history of racism. These films make me grateful that I was fortunate enough to be raised in a different time and mindset. I happen to be a mixed breed with many nationalities in my gene pool. I have family from Spain, Italy, Portugal, and Poland. Here in America I was fair enough to be considered white. I never really had to face racism, I can’t even imagine how how hard that would be so I won’t even try. The closest thing to racism I experienced was people assuming I was Mexican because my last name ended in “ez”.
Growing up in California I feel I have always been a piece of a melting pot. Our state is diverse and I am proud that I was raised here. I am grateful that I learned love for all kinds of people. I loved my fellow classmates that were Asian, Filipino, African American, and Mexican. I love that I lived near San Francisco where I got to befriend some people in the gay community and witness their challenges. I worked at the GAP for ten years and remember feeling ecstatic when they announced they would be one of the first companies to offer health benefits to domestic partnerships. Now living in Los Angeles, I have been touched by the Jewish community and their traditions, religious beliefs, and challenges in history. I have traveled across the country, from Georgia to California, and unfortunately witnessed some states that still see in color. More reason for me to remain in California. These examples name just a few of my memorable experiences. I’ve learned that life is about loving, being kind to your neighbor, and being open to accepting new things. I embrace change, I remind myself to think outside the box, and I always consider how I would feel if the roles were reversed and it was me that was being judged and discriminated against.
I decided in the last few years that my religion would be LOVE. As much as I respect those who go to church, I respect those who don’t just as much. I grew up Catholic and for me church was limiting and had a way of making me feel guilty. I don’t need to feel guilty for anything, I don’t do anything wrong. I realized I could practice faith on my own. If I want to get closer to God’s story I will read the bible and interpret it for myself. I have faith in a higher power, I have love for my neighbors, I live an honest life, and although I make some mistakes here and there, I know I am genuinely a good person. All I need in this life is to share LOVE. So thank you Mr. Jackie Robinson, #42, for reminding me yet again today that love and openness to change is what will make our world a better place.


A Boobs Life

Angelism: “Gravity is a real thing. Invest in a good bra!”

Boobs rock and I appreciate a nice rack just as much as the boys. I am a straight woman who won’t look away at the flashing going on at Mardi Gras. Every boob is different and all worth checking out. I was fortunate to be blessed with a nice set thanks to my genetics. I swore to never take my boobs for granted as one grandma is a breast cancer survivor. I appreciate mine for their soft, cute, and curvaceous appearance. In my eyes boobs are sexy; I don’t view them as a food source as I lack that maternal instinct. I have always been PRO REAL BOOBS and ANTI FAKE MELONS, but as I get older I am beginning to think that a fresh rack may be exactly what I need later in life. 
In my teenage years I liked my boobs but I did not think much about them. I thought they were cute and was glad to have them. Boys were definitely interested which was funny to me. In my early 20s I fell in love with them because I learned their special power. Show a guy a boob or display your nice rack in a flattering top with a great bra and you will get all the free drinks you want. It was easy to look sexy since I have cleavage to show off. Always having fun and shaking my god given boobalicious gift, I never realized that my boobs would actually have a life span. I just ran around happy they were there. They looked fantastic and I assumed they always would. I remember hearing my Mom complain about saggy boobs but I figured I didn’t want kids so that was not going to happen to me. WRONG!!!
Right around 28, I noticed a slight droop of my mountain peaks. Not much to worry about at the time but my nipples were no longer the perky Hershey Kisses they once were. Instead of staring straight into the eyes of the people in front of me, they began to stare slightly downward and to the side. Although I noticed this minimal change it didn’t bother me. All that mattered was I looked good without a bra on. Then at 30, I gained and lost twenty pounds after knee surgeries and – OUCH! My boobs took on new form. Don’t get me wrong, they still looked good but they no longer looked fan-fucking-tastic like they used to. Now traveling down the hill of my 30th decade, I was faced with three mammograms. It turns out breasts can be flattened into a pancake and it does hurt to squeeze your boobs flat! It was at this point, in the boob torture chamber, that I realized my boobs might be on borrowed time. 
You never know when your boobs will stop being those beautiful perky mountains they once were. You never know how they will look once you gain and lose weight. You never know in what directions your nipples will go once gravity and age kick in. You never know if they are here to stay or if you will lose them to breast cancer. You never know what they will end up like after childbirth and breast-feeding. I’m here to tell you younger girls that the loss of your breasts’ greatness will happen. Love your boobs when they are young because someday you will need to lift your boobs up to put your belt on. As for all the middle-aged and older women who are sad that the boobs they once knew are there no longer, I feel your pain. Just adjusting to this new phase of the late 30’s has thrown me for a bit of a loop. I am embracing it but I do miss the buoyancy I once had.
Every set of breasts are different. You may have pink or brown nipples and they might be uneven. You may have raisin, Hershey Kiss, pepperoni, or hamburger patty sized nipples. Your actual boobs may be flat, ginormous, or some really perfect C or D cup. You may have a hair or two sprouting out, tan lines, or perfectly smooth beautiful mountains that even you love to fondle. No matter what size, color, or shape, be grateful for them. Appreciate and admire them as a piece of your beauty. Boobs are awesome and I pray often, that regardless of what they end up looking like, that they stay healthy. I know now if I wake up at 60 and one boob is hanging off the side of the bed and almost touching the floor that some plastic surgery is not such a bad idea.