Multifaceted Bitch

So… this me…

(I am not posting this to be cool… I know it’s not. I’m not sharing this to show off, I don’t care. Keep reading, you’ll see it’s not a ludicrous attempt at an American Idol audition, I promise)

What you read on here, is also me. I love Shakespeare’s sonnets. I use to work 90 hours a week, between 3 jobs. I pull a tarot card every day to help my mindset.

I can happily, healthily and humorously go from having unavoidable cleavage, singing a tremendously inappropriate song, in front of a fairly crowded bar, to sitting in a quiet corner somewhere, wearing an oversized hoodie, holding space for you while you recount your past traumas. I am she. She is me.

Don’t be afraid of your sexuality. Don’t deny your sexuality. But also, and just as strongly, don’t be defined by your sexuality. Please, please, please note I’m possibly meaning to use the word sexual-ness here or… sexousity or… something. I’m 100% not talking about sexual preference or identity (though you should not deny that either!). I’m talking about being and feeling sexy and presenting yourself in a sexual nature. Embodying sexiness. Or not. Or both, on the same day at different times, or when around different people. That’s a super valid, amazing option too, if you prefer. But with that, if you like being more lowkey, less va-va-voomy, you can (and should) still thoroughly enjoy sexuality in whatever (law abiding) way you prefer.

I usually look like a librarian or an elementary school teacher. Most days I don’t wear makeup. I’ve posted many pics on Facebook because my hair was so fucked up and I simply had to share. And then I have moments in corsets and collars and flawless, dramatic makeup. Again, I’m not saying you have to do either or both, but I’m saying don’t be afraid to be the brilliant, multifaceted bitch you are!

Some people at the bar that night probably thought I was a hussy or harlot or slut or airhead or bimbo or whatever generic, ultimately meaningless, usually misogynistic, term you wanna pick. And while that’s not right – for me, personally, it’s okay. I can usually tell by how people approach me and speak to me throughout the night, if that was their impression and it makes it easier for me to weed them out. If you cannot accept that a person can fearlessly flaunt tits and ass, and still fucking own an episode of Jeopardy, you can 100% fuck off. If you think a modestly dressed, more shy person, can’t in a second be the most wicked dom, or the best God damn lay of your life, you can 100% fuck off.

Be a huge video game nerd, who is a star athlete. Be the smartest, sluttiest broad in the whole bar. Defy boring people’s expectations of what you should, or should not, be based on one shard in your stunning personality kaleidoscope. I’m sort of at a point in my life where, people can think what they want. For real. Think I’m a ho? Okay, enjoy your blue balls later while I’m not going home with you. Think I’m a prude? Hold my beer while I pull up some pics.. and vids… I’ll get you some personal references too, if you want. Because I’m all of those things at times and about a bajillion other things too, just like everyone I know. Don’t make yourself small to avoid crowding narrow minded people. Don’t use your inside voice when the moment is in a wide open space, just because it may annoy someone. Crowd ’em. Annoy ’em. There are other places they can go and ear plugs they can buy while you are enjoying every single layer of your sexy onion self.

Karate chops and kisses y’all,
Yours truly,
Tina Motherfucking K.

The emotional booty call

We all know what a booty call is. Most of us are probably “guilty” in participating (ain’t no shame, get it, but keep reading). As consenting adults, get laid. Safely. If everyone agrees it’s just sex, or kink play, or whatever y’all are into, cool cool cool. But don’t call up someone that you know is legitimately digging you, and just use them for sex.

That’s shitty. And I think most people recognize that that’s shitty. But I want to go one step further. I want to explore the emotional booty call (:: dun dun dunnnnn ::)

Okay. I’m not saying don’t lean on your friends. I’m not saying don’t turn to people in your time of need. We recently needed a tv. I posted on Facebook, literally the same day was picking up a free tv from a friend. So I’m not discouraging that, at all. I think it’s a matter of consent and a matter of intent. Is that person helping you because they can and would like to, or because they are being manipulated? Are you reaching out to them, knowing in their time of need you’d also be there for them, or are you reaching out solely to serve yourself?

I know a person who I won’t hear from for weeks, and then they’ll have a bad night and my phone is blowing up. One recent message from them said, “I just wanted to feel loved.” …. honey, I do love you, but not on command. And this person.. I’m not equally yoked with them, at all. I absolutely have friends where, if they sent me that, we’d be up chatting all night. I have friends where, when I send a message like that, we get milkshakes at midnight. But those people have a mutual love and respect situation with me. They are my healthy, mutually enjoyable, beneficial all around emotional hook ups, you know? As a (mostly) sane adult, who I fuck with – physically, mentally, emotionally, financially, spiritually – like… that shit is my life, those choices are important.

I never advocate for building walls. I never preach for anyone to close themselves off. I’m on mountain tops screaming the opposite, pretty much on the daily. Be authentic. Be open. Be vulnerable. But maybe be vulnerable in like… a turtle kinda way. I’m not an animal expert, but go with me on this for a sec. I’m pretty sure turtles, sans shell, are squishy and soft, right? But then they have like… bad ass armor. So… in the thinking about unhealthy booty calls, maybe don’t stick your neck out for those people. And I think we always know when vibes are bad, we know when we’re getting used or played, but we’re like drug addicts sometimes where the high from getting that attention or affection, overrides our knowing, or caring, about the destruction that comes with it.

I’m probably not gonna blow a guy who won’t go down on me (and most people I know hold similar sentiments), why would I pour effort and support into someone who, when they good, ain’t around for me? Basically, don’t give your heart blue balls.

Love y’all! ūüėė

W.T.Follow-up

So, building on my last post (like what you like, don’t like what you don’t like, fuck anyone is who shames you for any of it)… I saw a post today in a witch group, this person posted about how her allergies have been acting up since she started burning incense and candles all the time….

Sis. THEN STOP BURNING INCENSE AND CANDLES.

Your ancestors or godesses or spirits or enery or whatever you are working with will understand, I promise. No religious/spiritual practice should create a sense of obligation in you to continually do something that is causing physical ailments.

Not sure of the origin of the quote, but I’ve read that “tradition is just peer pressure from dead people” I’m not saying abandon them all. Some traditions are wonderful and amazing. And some we outgrow, for a plethora of reasons, allergies being one of them.

Let’s say you have a gluten intolerance. Let’s also say a family tradition of yours is a big ol pasta dinner every Sunday. Now, traditional pasta ain’t gonna work for you. So maybe you start researching amazing vegetable based dishes and you end up opening the worlds first 5 star vegetarian Italian restaurant, all because you were forced to break tradition.

For this lovely lady.. okay, fire ain’t your element. You are being urged to explore other options. Use tea leaves, use plants, use pendulums. For scent, use essential oils in a diffuser. Use supplies that are red and orange to represent the fire. You are being given such an great opportunity to be creative. Maybe she’ll explore and will go on to write a book about creating your own craft and the benefits of non traditional spirituality.

We’re so afraid of going off the well beaten path that we are potentially missing out on the most incredible scenery.

Get lost, be open, start your own traditions.

Why have guilty pleasures?

I was scrolling FB earlier and this guy has this HUGE post with a link to some Justin Beiber music video. He wrote about how he isn’t a “pop culturalist”,or something, especially when it comes to music, he always does better than the Beebs (I’m 100% rephrasing, of course) but he just liked this song.

Okay.

I mean, like it if you like it. Literally nobody cares. And I don’t mean that in a rude way but like.. if you rock out to Justin Beiber every now and then, no one cares, and if they do – fuck em *maybe literally, while Justin Beiber plays in the background* **only if they consent, of course, to the fucking… sneak in the soundtrack**

Like what you like (within reason, I don’t promote harmful behavior here). Let others like what they like. I feel like I’ve written about this before but it’s always so weird to me when people feel bad or are made to feel bad for a musician or tv show or whatever that they are into.

I unapologetically can sing along to more than a handful of Spice Girl songs. I still love and am genuinely creeped out by episodes of Courage the Cowardly Dog. I sleep with my favorite blanket and at least one stuffed animal every night. If any of my friends ever tried to make me feel guilt or shame for that, or anything else like that, they can 100% fuck off.

One of my besties loves the One Direction (hey girl hey!). I don’t. Nothing against them. They are adorable boys, making catchy pop music. It’s just not my scene. But it’s hers, so while I don’t personally dig it, I’m totally fine with her digging it. Live and let live, y’all. Ain’t nobody gonna shoot you because you like a Justin Beiber bop, so this like… fear of liking stuff (usually uber mainstream, popular stuff – heaven forbid we like something that literally millions of other people like – we clearly can’t or we’ll be stripped of our cool badges….) is just so surreal to me. I’m old as fuck. Peer pressure is just like… the last thing I feel the need to entertain.

Also, don’t like what you don’t like. For me, Game of Thrones, Marvel movies, college football… I just could not care any less about these things. I don’t bash the kajillion people who do love these things. I actually use to plan grocery shopping trips around football games because I knew there would be fewer people out and about.

Life is just so much bigger than these things. I understand you can connect with your tribe, partially, because of these things. I went to an EDM show a few weeks back and I saw the community there, that came together because of the music, and that’s amazing. But I really hope every single person at that show knows and loves someone who totally doesn’t get that genre.

I don’t want my life to be just straight shots of tequila. That is gonna be boring and it’s gonna fuck me up, bad. I want my life to be colorful, tasty, wonderful cocktails with multiple ingredients. You’re the bartender of your life, play, experiment, mix it up, y’all. Cheers!

Why’d you have go and make things so complicated….

I was hanging out with my ex at the bar last night (because I make awesome life choices….. – just kidding, mostly- love you boo!) and he kinda suddenly was like, “I’m sorry but I have to go,” and started explaining why and where he was going and this thing with this mutual friend of ours, etc, etc, etc and I was like… “dude… it’s fine, you are under no obligation to me. I’m glad you came out, it was super nice seeing you, but if you have to go – go, have a great night.” To me, it was that simple. We didn’t have specific plans to hang out all night so, you made a lovely cameo appearance, cool, hug, bye.

A 2020 goal is to say good luck and godspeed to complicated relationships. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Please note, I did not say I’m peacing out on relationships with complicated people. I’m just tired of everyone, myself included, making things harder than they need to be.

A few months back I had the… “what are we” talk with a guy. He was like, “what do you mean?” And I was like, “well, I’m trying to tell my friend about you and like.. you’re not my boyfriend.. ” and legit his response was, “oh… yeah.. I’m you’re non monogamous casual romantic partner.” W.T.F. That’s what I’m done with. If I can’t describe what you are to me, accurately, using one or two words, you and I are too complicated and our tetris pieces need reconfigured so a few rows get eliminated.

It might seem like I’m oversimplifying, but that is just so a risk I’m willing to take. Right now in my life, I’d rather I strip things down to much, than I over puff them up even slightly. The only puzzle I’m working on this year is me. The only puzzle you should work on this year is you. Now, if I love you (if your one or two word descriptor is “friend”, “good friend”, I’ll even include “fuck buddy”) and every now and then you get stuck and you just need a new set of eyes on your puzzle, I’m happy to look and point out a piece or two that can help. But that’s it. I love you but that’s your mess. I have a hard time asking for help, but if I need it, I know who I can ask that will spend a lil bit of time helping me find a corner piece that then I can build from.

To uncomplicate things, a certain level of bare bones honesty is required. And that’s scary and that’s hard and that’s something I need to work on. It’s creating boundaries so lines are not confusing. It’s clearly expressing my intent. I can’t expect simplicity when I’m fucking around, playing games.

So.. just some thoughts. Keep it simple. Keep it clear. Keep it 100, or whatever the kids say. And hold those in your life accountable to do the same. And encourage them to do the same with you. 2019 basically tried to kill us all, and based on current headlines, 2020 may not be much kinder, which is why we all need to do and be better for each other and ourselves but I just so strongly feel that will be ineffective unless we simplify. K.I.S.S (keep it simple, sexy!)

Molting

Let’s talk about tarantulas. Look at this guy!

He’s spectacular, right?! He’s a greenbottle something. I don’t know. Not an entomologist. Go with it.

So.. change. Everyone wants to use the caterpillar metamorphasizing into the beautiful butterfly or the snake shedding skin to symbolize the process. But I’m not everyone. So… mother effin tarantulas molting mother effin exoskeletons. Yes.

Molting happens as they grow and it is a very difficult and strenuous process. They often lie on their backs and appear dead.

I was just sick. Real sick. Bed ridden (laying on my back, actually… being on my sides made me throw up)… not saying I was molting but…

I don’t know.

I’m changing. I’m growing. Hopefully for the better. After a tarantula molts, it is soft, tender, very sensitive and not to be touched for about a week. … good luck to my boyfriend tonight ha!

Tattoos and Love….

One of my jobs is at a tattoo shop. ¬†It’s pretty great. If you’re in Ohio, hit me up, come in and see us! ¬†Anyway.. so one of my guys just told a 17 year old girl, getting her first tattoo, “It’s permanent, in that it’s always there, but it’s not permanent in that it will always look the same.” ¬†And I was instantly hit by how much that kind of mirrors love for me. (He was getting at things like stretching, fading, just generally aging of the skin, by the way) ¬†But yeah. ¬†I think of like… my first serious boyfriend, 15 years ago, when I was 19 (god damn I’m old!) and… we’re not together, we barely talk.. just life happened and is still actively happening for both of us so… ¬†but I still do have love for him. I always will. Is it that bold, bright, crazy, die for you, passionate love? ¬†No. But if he ever needed someone to talk to, I’d freakin be there, ya know? ¬†Because while the specifics of love change, the look of the love is not permanent, the actual love is permanent. ¬†Once you hit me on that soul level, you reside there, in some capacity like.. straight up, legit, for life. You tattoo me. Just a lightning bolt thought that hit me. Haven’t written in ages. Another love of mine mentioned I hadn’t posted in a while so… things are good, love is life, be kind to each other.