If You're Happy And You Know It

I remember exactly where I was standing when I realized I didn’t want to live anymore. It was January of 2017 and I was working an event for Facebook, at an upscale hotel in Park City, Utah during the Sundance Film Festival. Festival attendees came to the event to preview short films on Oculus headsets and it was my job to walk them through the experience. I was in the middle of giving a demonstration to Tristan Wilds (Also known as Mack Wilds). He smelled like things I can't afford to buy and had teeth as white as pieces of Orbitz gum. 

Tristan "Mack" Wilds

To be more accurate, I didn’t exactly want to die; I just didn’t want to feel pain any longer. I lost track of time while Tristan was watching his short film, thinking about what it would be like to no longer be apart of this world. I was tired of feeling heartbroken, worthless, and like a burden to people close to me because of my immense sadness.

“You okay?” he asked in a surprisingly deep voice.

The film had ended and Tristan had taken off his headset without me realizing it.

“Oh yea I’m fine. Sorry, just spaced out for a second.”

“You must have done a lot of these today.” He looked genuinely concerned. “Get a drink after work, go to one of the parties. Have some fun!”

“Thanks,” I smiled as best I could.

It had been a while, but I was still sad over my break up with JC. I had also just found out that the guy I had been talking to for the past few months was married. Earlier that week a frenemy of mine told me some news about my ex that I had dated for 8 years. I didn’t think hearing about him would have effected me the way it did, but alas…

I excused myself from the event for a few minutes and retreated to the bathroom. I closed the stall door before sliding down the tiled wall, onto the floor in tears. I sat there crying for about 5 minutes. Then I washed my face, took a selfie and posted it to Instagram before going back out to finish my shift.I tried to act normal, but honestly I never thought I would feel okay again. I didn’t even remember what it felt like to be okay.

My post crying bathroom selfie

Something I’ve learned in the last few years, is that healing is not linear. You’ll be doing great one day, and another day you’ll see something that reminds you of your pain and it will knock the wind out of you. Almost like getting hit by a huge wave and being thrown off your surfboard. I’ve never been surfing because things that can eat me live in the ocean, but I assume that’s what happens when a big wave takes you out.

There were times when my grief literally made me crumple to the floor in pain or caused me to silently shake in tears on the couch. I actually remember not being able to get off the couch, I hadn’t taken a shower in days and I didn’t dare leave the house. My parents were really worried. My Stepdad cautiously asked me if my ex had ever hit me. My Mom offered to take me shopping and cook my favorite foods. They didn’t know what to do, and it hurt me even more to watch them, see me hurting.

But like a subsiding storm in the middle of the ocean, the waves of those painful times will become fewer and farther in between. The things that hurt me months ago, cause me to pause for mere seconds now. Eventually, the waves will become small ripples and I won’t think of them at all.

For me 2015 was like the eye of the storm. I didn’t realize how bad everything was in my life because I was in the middle of the chaos. 2016 is when all hell broke loose, and then I spent most of 2017 trying to reevaluate and rebuild my life. 2018 has been a great experience thus far.

An entire year had passed since I sat crying on the bathroom floor of a luxury hotel while celebrities drank expensive cocktails and watched films two floors above me. I went skiing for the first time and realized that I had fallen in love. Not with skiing, that was horrifically terrifying, but with life again (and maybe a guy too, but that’s a story for another day).

In February I got to work at the Eagle’s Superbowl after party. My job was not glamorous. I wasn’t a journalist, photographer, or fluffer, but instead I bussed tables. The party was self serve on fancy paper plates and all the drinks at the bar were free, so honestly I didn’t have to do much. A lot of the players and other guests didn’t feel like trekking over to the bar, so they’d ask me to do it for them, and give me huge tips.

Older gentleman with an Eagle's Jersey on: "Could you bring us 4 beers?”

Me: “Of course.” Runs to get 4 beers and brings them back. Guy hands me a $100 bill.

Me: You know these drinks are free right?”

Because I don't care about sports like that I didn't know the identity of the older gentleman. Later on my coworker told me he was a co-owner of the team.

Older man in Eagle's Jersey: “Yeah, they're free, but it’s a celebration, Enjoy the money!”

*Stuffs money in bra and walks away*

The party was set up like a football field. The endzones had tables and plush white couches. One side line had food, desserts and a candy station while the other side line was an open bar. In the middle, where the 50 yard line would be, was a dance floor and a stage. I got to watch Diplo DJ a set and Cardi B perform merely 3 feet in front of me.

I felt like I was back in college, but with men who had money, muscles and fashion sense. I watched an insanely giddy Zach Ertz passionately make out with his wife. They looked so happy together that you couldn't help but be happy for them. I danced with Malcolm Jenkins who had the dopest jewelry of anyone in the room. He wore an impeccably tailored maroon colored suit, with black patent leather loafers and I'm fairly certain that his cuff links alone probably cost more than my car. I participated in a soul train line with Bryan Braman and his friends. Everyone was in a good mood. 

Malcolm Jenkins 

It was crowded so I accidentally kept bumping into this really tall guy with big ole sexy arms. At one point he playfully grabbed me by the shoulders and said,

“Hey this is the 3rd time you’ve bumped into me.”

“Sorry, its crowded in here. And you have a big butt,” I added as an after thought.

He laughed and then turned around and poked his butt out. "Yea I guess it’s my fault then. I do a lot of squats."

This is the type of man I deserve to procreate with I thought to myself.  An athletic, juicy booty, Superbowl champion.

We kinda flirted throughout the night. He was super sweet and gentlemanly too but he never asked for my number. Before he left for the night with his friend Bryan, he made sure he had my attention and then smiled and waved goodbye to me.

Bryan Braman

If Cinderella had taken place in 2018, a time when more women are learning to shoot their shot, then this is what would have happened next:

I looked for that man everywhere on the internets y'all. I looked through the entire Eagles Roster of players but the photos weren't that great. I eventually found him on Instagram, BECAUSE OF THE SHOES HE HAD ON in one of his Instagram posts.They were the same ones he wore at the party. I’m not trying to put his business out in these streets, but if you’re interested in who he is, he ended up proposing to his long-term girlfriend the day after the Super Bowl. So that would explain why he didn’t ask for my number. Don’t cry for me guys. Its okay, because now I realize that guys are a dime a dozen. Even though they're not all NFL players, It’s literally raining men’s out here in these streets

At the end of the party, the servers were gifted with a ton of free Eagles Superbowl memorabilia. I got coozies, keychains, Eagles t-shirts, a 10lb bag of Eagles colored M&M’s with the Philadelphia Eagles logo on them, shot glasses and more.

It was a fun night that I’ll always remember, especially because one of the most attractive men I had ever talked to flirted with me, but I had no use for this stuff. I decided to keep a few things for myself and send the rest to my ex because the Eagles is his favorite team. I thought about not sending it at first, because it had been 2 years since I broke up with him and I didn’t want him to think I wanted to rekindle anything between us. My best friend said I should include a short note so he didn’t get the wrong idea. We settled on...

“Hey I worked at the Superbowl and they gave me this free stuff. I knew you’d like it. Take Care”

Meanwhile, I’m living my best life: Going on girl trips to Montreal, discovering my soul mate and being rescued by ski patrol off the side of mountain ranges. One night I’m at a bar in Brooklyn with an old friend/co-worker. We're sipping gluten free beverages and he and his wife tell me about a yoga retreat to Belize. I’m in the middle of telling them about my epic trip to New Zealand where I hitch-hiked with a perfect stranger, whose native tongue was not English. I excuse myself to the bathroom, hard cider runs right through me, and notice a text from a number I’ve never seen before.

It was the ex’s current girlfriend

I use the word text lightly, as what she sent me was more like the rough draft of her Memoir, entitled A Road map of my Insecurities and Other Short Stories.

First I’d like to say that I realize that there are ladies that would be annoyed if their boyfriend’s ex, sent them something in the mail and perhaps I should have asked if it were okay to send him the limited edition Superbowl Memorabilia of a team that probably won't win again for 50 years. I could understand if this ex was constantly being disrespectful to your relationship or wanted to get back with your boyfriend. If this is not the case, I think you should discuss this issue with your boyfriend. If it bothers you that someone (who doesn't want him/he doesn't want either) sent him something, you should also really ask yourself why.

Because I’m not going to be messy and include screen shots, her message basically said "don’t text, call, email, initiate contact through social media, send gifts or presents to my boyfriend because we love each other and are going to be together forever". I'm sure it said a lot of other things but I only got through the prologue. If she is out there reading this, I’m coming to her as a woman, and I want her to sincerely know that I didn’t read the entire message. I did however, cycle through a few reactions.

Okay she is crazy...

As I sat on the toilet I thought to myself, “Well this is the least thankful, 'Thank You' note I’ve ever received.”

Lemme tell ya’ll the difference 10 years can make. 2008 TK would have been petty and defensive as fuck let this girl have it.

Ten year's ago I was in my early 20's so I was still a bit wild. My friends at the time literally called themselves Gangsta Ass Bitches and homegirl would have caught a backhand like Serena Williams (ironically my Gangsta Ass Bitch friends and I played tennis at least twice a week and were very good, but I'm referring to physical violence).  I also would have given her reason’s why I didn’t want that man and pointed out that I had put him back on the shelf with the other emotionally immature & multiple personality having Gemini (read: evil) men for her to choose from.

On my list, I would have included:

1. Like DJ Khaled, he won’t go down on you.
2. He will also expect you to do the emotional labor of fixing all his problems while showing little to no appreciation or acknowledgement for your hard work, examples include but are not limited to:
        a. Cooking him dinner after you’ve worked a 70hr week and he had the day off
        b. Canceling plans with friends, or entire work trips to do things with/for him instead
        c. Locating a carton of blueberries in the refrigerator after you’ve told him they were on the top shelf behind the almond milk and next to the block of cheddar cheese upwards of 3 times and then having to go retrieve said blueberries your cot damn self

The old TK would have followed up by chastising her for sending me the most ungrateful Thank You note I had ever received and reminding her of the reasons she should definitely be thanking me.

3. The only reason you are together is because I broke up with him and decided to let that 

4. Bish, I sent a 10lb bag of M&M’s, why you complaining? You mad because I'm killing you with kindness?

I also would have warned her to be careful...

5. In 4 or 5 years, when he takes off his dating invisibility cloak and starts to unveil the dementor that he really is, your relationship may have you feeling like a prisoner of Azkaban

Without even meeting her in person, I saw my past insecure and hurting self in her annoyingly wordy text message. There were times when I felt like I had to overcompensate or basically scream that I LOVED HIM from the rooftops to prove my worth and loyalty to him. Like that time his Mom told us she wasn't coming to our apartment and he blamed me for it. This long ass text message filled with all the reasons they are going to make it as a couple, felt very familiar to me. It's easy for me to respect their wishes never contact him again because I'm happy with how much I've grown since then and I refuse to do kind things for people who don't deserve them. I felt how Harriet Tubman must have felt when she encountered slaves she had to kill, “If only this woman realized she was a slave, I could have saved her too.”

2018 TK understands that people are complicated. Hurt people hurt people and insecurities cause you to act out. When you’ve worked on yourself (*cough* therapy and introspection) and you realize the psychology behind why people do the things they do, you can’t even be mad at them.

So instead of the actions listed above, 2018 TK told her to have a good life and not to text me again. To which she replied,

“Oh I’m having a good life, stop bothering us.”

As I emerged from the bathroom to finish having a good night with my friends, I thought to myself, "Sounds like you're having a good life sis. Now if you’re happy and you know it clap your hands."

Just kidding. I'm not waiting because I don't care. He is not my man, and not my problem anymore. Emotionally intelligent people do things for others without expecting anything in return, but a small part of the 2008 TK that still resides in my psyche wanted to send her my paypal link for wasting my time on a Friday night. 

Dates On A Plane

It’s always been a fantasy life goal of mine to meet a handsome stranger on a plane. Over the past year I’ve been flying more (for work mainly but a little for pleasure) and this weekend on work trip to Denver it finally happened.

By the way, there is free wifi at Denver International Airport! Usually airports try to charge you at least $7 to connect for an hour so. Money Grab! So I was taking this opportunity to check my emails and do some tweeting while waiting for the plane to board. Eventually someone sat down in the empty seat next to me. I didn’t really pay any attention until this sexy masculine scented cologne started wafting my way.

For any guys who may be reading this, just in case you didn’t know, a good smelling man will make a woman want to rub her boobies all over you. At least it makes me feel that way.

Axe body spray isn't the best scent for men out there, but it's better than nothing

And then, out the corner of my eye I see him. Sitting next to me is the man of my dreams. In awe of the amount of sexiness in my presence I immediately stop typing, grab my bottled water off the floor and accidentally spill it on myself. Smooth? Not at all. A great conversation starter? HELL yes.

As we board the plane we chat about my lifelong battle with clumsiness, which leads to the getting to know you question and answer session. This guy, (referred to as Mr. Smile from now on) has an amazing white toothy smile, like something out of a crest commercial. I struggle reminding myself not to stare intently at his mouth.

Southwest Airlines has a punch-someone-in-the-face-and-knock-over-a-baby-stroller-to-sit-anywhere-you-can policy so Mr. Smile and I sit down next to each other. He puts my bags in the overhead bins for me and asks if I would rather have the window or the aisle seat. What a gentleman.

After we reach 10,000 ft. I pull out my tablet (that I rooted myself) and we talk nerdy tech stuff for a bit. Sadly I discover that I’ve lost my headphones, but Mr. Smile offers to share the left side of his earphones with me under the condition that we watch a decent movie together.

When the flight attendant comes over to ask what we’d like to drink she says what a cute couple we make.

Mr. Smile shoots me a glance and replies, “You know we met for the first time on a Southwest flight. We’re on our honeymoon now. Headed to Chicago and then to Paris

Clutching her heart shaped Southwest pin she sighed. I’ll be right back.

She brings us complimentary chardonnay (guess it’s the closest thing they had to champagne). Over the intercom system the captain congratulates the newlyweds in seats 18A and 18B and the guests on the plane all start clapping.

I am happily mortified

Mr. Smile leans towards me, his sexy man scent filling my lungs and lightly kisses me on the lips. I try to catch my breath as I almost melt out of my seat. And then suddenly the plane gives a rough jolt that throws me forward sending my stomach into my throat and my heart into afib.  

I wake up.

There is nobody sitting next to me. The flight attendant is telling everyone to remain seated as we coast to a stop and that we may now use our cell phones. Thank you for flying Southwest and welcome to Chicago.

It was all dream 

OK Cupid

The other night, over fried chicken and watermelon (j/k we were totally eating fois gras) one of my close friends and I were discussing this guy Blake that she had went out with on a couple of dates. They had met on an online dating site. He was really cute and very nice, but he was dumb as rocks. She just could not continue to see him.

Honestly I don't really see much of a problem with dating a dumb dude as long as they are cute. For example take Derrick Rose. Have you ever heard him speak? In most of his commercials his lines are kept to a minimum and I'm sure that's for the viewers benefit. He sounds slow. Not mentally handicapped slow, but simple multiplication slow.

I'm not a dating elitist. I don't think you need a Masters Degree, Nobel peace prize and a Grammy award to be datable. Of course it doesn't hurt that D. Rose is worth millions. But if you can't hold an intellectually stimulating conversation just be handsome and mysterious. It's sexy.

Basically my friend told me that I don't know what it's like out there in the dating world. Apparently its really hard to find someone. Maybe she has a point. I did get rejected by that cashier at Marshalls.

I'm not lucky enough (or unlucky if you're one of those glass half empty people) to have fallen in love and married my high school sweetheart. I didn't even have a high school sweetheart. The guy I went to the prom with ended up being bisexual (aka homosexual). Plus, once you leave school it's really hard to meet someone.

After college I had a period of 'dating myself time'. Basically nobody at work was suitable to date (read: attractive, funny or single) and I started to panic. Where am I going to meet someone?

*UN-DATABLES
T-pain might have been in love with a stripper, but personally I don't date guys I meet at clubs or public service workers which include:

Police Officers - They all look the same and have that "po'po look". Plus I don't need anyone judging me for wearing a shirt once and then returning it back to the store. That is semi-legal.

Military - No offense but they seem a little brainwashed. You have to be conditioned to make it in the military and all that discipline would drive me nuts.

Fireman - They are nice to look at, but I don't touch. Basically I don't want my boyfriend's face to get burned off. Is that selfish? I don't think so.

And I would rather not date actors. You never really know what you are getting with them. Are they really into me or are they just doing research for a part where a ~fill in the blank~ Bank Robber/Ex Convict/White guy dates a black girl? Most of the guys I've met that are in the acting business are either self centered, fake or insecure, if not all 3. The combination of auditioning, rejection and sometimes unwarranted praise can F a person up. Of course my aversion to dating people in these professions can go out the window if you have a nice smile and even nicer biceps.

On the other hand I love creative types. If you can play a guitar (especially with your toes), build a PC from scratch or take amazing photos, I just might fall in love with you. Extra points if you're into video production and/or you smell good.

So after much deliberation my friend and I decided that I would conduct a little experiment. I would set up a profile online and see how easy (or hard) it is to find a normal, datable person.

My Goals
1. Set up an online dating profile Check!
2. Find a friend
3. Find a pen pal
4. Find a date

Please let me in on any advice, do's/don'ts, precautions to take etc. Do you have any interesting/funny/horrific/inspiring online dating stories? In the mean time, Wish me luck!

*And before anyone gets upset, I respect all of the aforementioned professions and know people/have friends who have made a career out of them.There is nothing wrong with their line of work and I'm not saying I wouldn't consider dating someone that pays their bills through those means. Through my own personal experiences I've found that people in those positions are not preferable to me. But to each their own.

Don't Call it V-Day

I really don't like the term "V-Day". It sounds like:

1. Everyone pretend to be a lesbian day!
2. Let's go to the gynecologist day!
3. Angry militant vaginas marching in solidarity to stage a hostile take over.

So for the one day of winter that I feel obligated to shave both my legs, (I'll shave 1 leg for a boyfriend and none for a husband...It's cold outside!) Happy Valentine's Day!

I hope you’re spending this day with the one you love and if you’re one of those people who detest February the 14^th, at least do something that you love. Try not to be disgusted with all the red and pink décor and heart shaped balloons you have to push through to find the register at CVS. Just buy your Redbull in peace, knowing that tomorrow everything will be a mix of glittery gold and shamrock green for St. Patrick’s day. Yep, I already coped my Shamrock shake™from McDonald's!

I definitely had a little trouble deciding on what to write about for this hallmark holiday. Through my blog I’m desperately trying to impress you with my witty anecdotes and my uncanny storytelling ability but as far as the holiday of love goes I’ve got no good stories to tell.

No one has ever taken me on a romantic hot air balloon ride, showered me with diamonds or a proposed to me via jumbo-tron at a basketball game. The best I’ve gotten gift wise were some homemade chocolate covered strawberries. 

Two years in a row. 

From the same guy. 

You may be thinking, “Aww how sweet, he cooked for you,” and at first I thought the same thing. But after giving me the same high calorie, semi healthy treat for a second time, he could have at least paired it with an Ikea flute of moscato (yeah, I’m classy) and used Godiva chocolate instead of the supermarket brand chocolate chips.

Honestly I haven’t had a Valentine’s day that has been memorable. Le sigh. But don’t cry for me. I haven't had any horrible ones either. This year I would like to dedicate Valentine's day 2013 to my faithful love: Chicago.

I moved to Chicago from Charlotte, NC 4 years ago after watching the movie What Women Want. You know the movie where Mel Gibson is a womanizer that has some freaky Friday shit happen and he can hear what women are thinking. The movie is based in Chicago and makes the city look really glamourous. I desperately wanted to move out of the south, the west coast was too far away and since I  was born in New York/have family there NYC was a no go. 

After saving up some cash, securing a freelance gig and finding an apartment online I made the move! More accurately after moving back home with my parents and wanting to poison them everyday, I became frugal and determined to live on my own again.

I heart Chicago even in the winter because of population control. Its so cold here that my family won't come visit me for 5 months out of the year. I can't say that I like when it's -356° outside and I fear my eyeballs freezing/falling out or encountering a cold blast of soul-reaping air on the way to the train. The good part about the cold however, is that I have time to stay inside and learn how to bake things. Additionally in the spring/fall when it rains nobody carries umbrellas because the wind turns them inside out so obviously I've saved tons on not having to buy umbrellas over the past 4 years. 

Chicago also has street festivals every day of the summer from the Armenian knife throwing competition to Polish Sausage fest. There's also a strong warm breeze in the summer that will either blow throw you into oncoming traffic or blow your skirt up. You live, you learn, you start wearing biker shorts under skirts. And during the summer everyone knows they have a limited amount of time to enjoy the weather so they all flock to Lake Michigan to hang out at "the beach" half naked.

My friend Tosh (Left) and I at a street festival this summer

I love Chicago because its the perfect blend of southern hospitality, big city charm and bad accents. It's amazing how every neighborhood has a different personality. Where I live in Rogers Park, you've got everything from college students, a large Jewish population, lots of Hispanics, middle class white families and fresh off the boat Indians. Plus Tina Fey used to live here and take the same train that I take! Thats how I know i'm going to be famous one day.

This cultural melting pot makes for some great restaurants which of course leads to weight gain. 

I also feel pressure to frequent all of these ethnic eateries because if I didn't someone might call me a racist. I've got a samosa spot, a matzoh ball soup shop and a enchilada stand that has the best horchata. I like the mixed ethnicity of the area, but truthfully there are some ugly people in Rogers Park. I'm probably one of the  prettiest  people in my neighborhood. 

If you want to find the cuties you gotta go to Lakeview, West town or Ravenswood and if you're a retired homosexual you'll want to put down roots in Andersonville. Generally speaking you have your rich hipsters in Wicker Park, true hipsters in Logan Square, buppies in Hyde Park and Blacks/Hispanics on the Southside and Westside. 

Even though I lived in a big city in the South, I never could have imagined how segregated Chicago would be. On the Northside (mostly in Lincoln Park) I often get looks like, Are you lost? Or if I'm eating at an open air pub with some friends, How nice, I'm glad someone is feeding that poor black girl. Of course when I work on the Westside or Southside everyone is so helpful and accepting of me. By accepting I mean I get hollered at by Mexicans. 

Despite this I still love Chi-Town. Sometimes I want to set it on fire when I get an unavoidable parking ticket. Oh today it's raining, you can't park here. Enjoy this $150 ticket. When I recently got a parking ticket for $10 in another city I was like, damn, give me two more. I can actually afford these! 

Anyway, I know I’m going to see tons of Valentine’s inspired twitter and instagram posts today and that’s okay because it’s only one day of saccharin social sharing. I don’t mind the occasional kissy face pictures and photos of fancy food from your date night. But I honestly want to gag every time I see a FaceBook couple make status updates to each other like,

Her: “My husband cleared the snow off the car this morning. Love you babe XOXOXOXOXO.”

Him: “I love you   T       H         I         S    much sugar foot.”

Can’t you send a text message? I mean I guess I would be impressed if SNOWmageddon had just dumped 15ft of snow on your Cavalier and your dude blow torched the snow off your whip and heated up the seats in the process. Otherwise your over share just makes me want to throw snowballs at you. Heart shaped ones of course.

  

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F*** My Life!

"Why do bad things happen to me?" is a question we’ve all asked ourselves at some point. Early this morning when I realized that I had left my wallet at a bar last night, I asked myself the same thing.

Losing a wallet is always a pain in the A, however this time it was an extremely unfortunate experience. I had closed out my bank account earlier that day and didn’t have time to put the money (2 month’s rent) in my new bank account. My friend Lil and I went out a sports bar to watch my Alma Mater NC State whoop our rival’s (UNC) roody poo behinds in basketball and I ended up leaving my wallet there.

Not only did it have crisp $100 bills folded tightly into my cute “lunch money” change purse, it also contained my library card, ID, Starbucks and Lush gift cards that I had gotten for my birthday and my company credit card inside.

Feeling crappier than a porta potty at a chili cookoff, I asked one of my Jesus freak* friends why does it seem like bad things always happen to good people. Her response was, “The biblical answer is that there aren’t any “good” people in the world. The Bible makes it pretty clear that all of us are tainted by sin.”

It’s all fine and dandy if we’re going with the argument that empirically nobody is “good”, but there are definitely some mischievous mother f-er’s out there and I’m not one of them. I don't deserve this mess. On a scale of 1 (Heaven sent angel) to 10 (Satan and Rosemary’s demon baby spawn) I’ve got to be at least a 3 or 4. That’s accounting for things like stealing gum as a child, cheating on my chemistry homework in high school and tricking my younger brother into pouring Sweet-N-Low straight into his mouth by telling him its better than regular sugar because it’s in a pretty pink packet. Sucker.

I feel like everything will be going fine and then BOOM goes the dynamite. All at once I'm hit with unfavorable circumstances and left standing there asking myself WHY ME?! A few of the many unfortunate events I’ve recently lived through include:

• On a business trip to Los Angeles I swipe my debit card and it’s declined. Call up the bank and they tell me my card has been compromised and thus canceled. Had to borrow money from my co-worker for the trip.
• In the middle of an audition for a gig my bra strap popped and my boob came bouncing out of my dress. Well hello to you Mr. Interviewer!
• Someone backed into the front of my car, bending the grill on my Passat and making the chrome plated VW ornament fall off and then they took it! Either that or some hoodlums just plain stole the emblem off of my car by hitting the grill with a hammer, perhaps as a part of gang initiation or in hopes to create a killer Halloween costume.

                         

• In Louisville, KY on Black Friday some thieves stole my passport and company credit card. I was outta cash and had to do all kind of inhumane things to get through security at the airport just to fly back home. A few days later my boss calls and asks if I can go on a last minute all expense paid work trip to Canada. YES, I am talking about the land of maple flavored cookies, ice hockey and poutine, otherwise known as America Jr. Couldn't go, had no passport. 
• For an entire week in Greenville, NC my phone had no cell phone reception. I had negative bars! Went to T-mobile and they couldn't help me. They told me I needed to buy a new phone and a mansion in Idaho too. Then early in the morning on the way to the airport my rental car broke down right next to a tobacco field. Had no reception and couldn't phone for help. After waiting 2 hours, highway patrol found me, called a tow truck that took another hour to come tow the car and then yet another hour to drive me to the airport. Missed my plane and the airline charged me $150 to reschedule the flight. Bitches

When it comes down to it you can’t allow yourself to wallow in your understandable sadness. I know this is easier said than done and I’m not saying you shouldn’t be upset about whatever misfortune you've encountered, but realize that you can’t change the past. Stop reliving the moment in your head ad nauseum saying, “if only I hadn’t…” because it’s already too late. Instead think about what you do have and count your blessings. I mean literally write that shit down!

   1.  I’m alive! Yeah things go wrong, and seemingly all at once but I still woke up today and hopefully I’ll wake up tomorrow. That means I have another chance to fix anything that I fucked up yesterday.

     2.   I have all of my teeth – May not seem like a big deal but I’ve seen more than a few snaggle toothed people walking around lately and I’m glad I have all 32 of my pearly whites.

   3.   I have a clean, warm apartment - It’s the middle of winter and I’m pretty sure I read on EveryBlock that they found a bum frozen into a block of ice in my Chicago neighborhood. It may not be a mansion in Idaho but I have a comfy place to lay my head with cable, video games, Netflix and Hulu Plus! I’m living the good life (even if I don’t have HBO and have to stream True Blood from the internet).

   4.   I have friends and family that love and care about me or at least pretend to for our mutual benefit.  

Also important, if you don’t believe in luck, don’t expect to get lucky. To be honest, even though I think I have abnormally bad luck at times, a lot of good things have happened to me too. When my janky rental car broke down next to that tobacco field and I missed my plane, Avis gave me a $100 gift certificate towards a car rental and a free Megabus trip. And guess what?! Some rich trust fund Lincoln Park kid turned in my wallet at the bar with all of the contents still inside! They probably looked at my two months rent and thought, this chump change, I can't even buy a round of drinks and line of coke for my friends with this.

I know people who are always hemming and hawing like Mr. Ed over how nothing good ever happens to them. Maybe it’s because you don’t think anything good should happen to you and you end up making your life an unlucky, uneventful reality. It’s kinda like the lotto; you’ve gotta be in it, to win it.

*Jesus Freak – for my purposes, a positive term of endearment for people who have given themselves to God. They are B-A-N-A-N-A-S about the Lord and spreading his word, they attend church regularly and often read and/or quote the Bible. You may currently see them sporting WWJD bracelets. Like in 2013!