The Fault in Our Stars Review

I don’t know if you know this about me, but as much as I love to read I don’t do reviews. I simply don’t. It’s very rare that I write them now that I’m over the age of 13 and they are no longer required for a grade. Chillax. I’m not saying people who write reviews are wasting their time. I actually really appreciate those people because they  spare me the burden of having to put my thoughts to paper on a book.

Something you may know about me, my reading is personal. I tend to get overly involved in the lives of the characters I read. I cry, laugh, smile, and kick ass with them. When their friend or family dies, I feel it right there with them. Hell, I’m still mourning the death of Madoc of Powys who delighted me in A Moment in Time by Bertice Small. A book from 1991. And don’t even get me started on Kisten from The Hollows series by Kim Harrison. My heart still hurts over that like it happened yesterday.
 

So anyway, my reading is personal. I have no problem discussing a book, its characters, its plot, what the author was trying to say, etc. But when it comes to sitting down and actually reviewing about and saying while I loved or hated it. Unless, I really really hated it. It’s simply something I don’t do. I like to keep my characters to myself and let others decide for themselves whether that character does it for them. 

If you follow me on Goodreads, you’ll see me rate books with the star rating and that’s it. This might also be why it’s taken me almost 2 years to finish writing THE REVIEW for my friend Phil on a series he loaned to me. Seriously, it’s turned into pretty much a book report. In my defense, it started off as a joke between my friend Gwen and I. Phil is very passionate. Goodness that man is so passionate it drives me crazy (the good kind of crazy). I love how enthusiastic he is and how he lights up from the inside when he loves something. It reminds me of one of my boys when they get a new gift. Anyway, he asked me nearly every single time I saw him what I thought of so and so and this scene and that scene. To the point where I just said to Gwen “you know what? I’m going to write him a report. Typed and double spaced. And put it all in a binder.” The idea was brilliant. Especially since I know he would actually read it. And I still plan to do it. One day. Anyway, it’s very rare that I’ll write a review. 

So anyway, countless people have asked me from friends to coworkers to what I think about The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.  Because I needed a blog post for today and I legitimately felt like answering it, below is my review:

The Fault in Our Stars

Have you ever cried to the point where your stomach hurt? To the point where you felt so weak and utterly exhausted? To where you just felt completely empty? Drained of all emotion? This is what TFOS did to me. It left me raw. I finished the book around 12am and it took me an hour or two to fall asleep after I closed the book and placed it on my bookshelf. It’s not that TFOS made me cry. Or that it made me smile. It made me reflect. My dad died of cancer similar to one of the characters in the book and that broke me. I spent a lot of time thinking back on how I spent the last year of my Dad’s life. Was I like Hazel’s parents? Hovering, overly involved, annoying? Was I like Gus’s parents? Trying to let him live his life? Involved, but distant? To be fair, the book made me laugh way more than it made me cry. It’s a very honest, very raw account of what it’s like to live with cancer. Which I thoroughly enjoyed, especially since so many books get it wrong by telling the story of what it’s like to have cancer.  Big difference in my opinion. There were some “A-ha!” moments and some “seriously?!” moments to which all I enjoyed. I gave the book four out of five stars because honestly, I just haven’t read a book that meets my high standards in order to receive a five. Oh they are out there; I’ve read many of them, just not all of them. Anyway, the book was touching, sweet, sincere, and raw. The book touched me deeply to the point where I have no idea which direction I want to go next. 

Popping Squats: The New Way to Communicate

So at the end of March, I was talking to coworkers and we were lamenting over how much we sit all day. On average, I work 10 hour days, come home and log on for another 2-3 hours, and I unwind by watching 1-2 hours of TV. So let's say 13* hours a day I'm sitting. 13 x 5 (work week), that's 65 hours I'm sitting during the work week. On average, I sleep about 5 hours during the week. That's 25 hours. So of the 120 hours during the week, in the time that I'm awake which is 95 hours, I'm sitting for 65 of those hours. Seriously. WHAT THE FUCK?! Right?!

That means I'm only actively moving for 30 hours a week! That's crazy! I know! So I was like "Bob, that's re-damn-diculous! We need to fix that". So we started joking around about silly shit we could do to move more. And my genius self said "we should pop squats after every email we send". Everybody was like "Yeah!!! That sounds AWESOME! Let's do it!!" So we all made a pact that we would start popping squats after every email sent starting April 7th. We pushed the start date until then because I was going on vacation the next week and we all wanted to start together. Solidarity and all that jazz.

So come Monday, April 7th, we were ALL psyched about our new get fit program. Bob kicked it off, then I went next, one by one we all got into the routine. Ain't none of think that shit through! Nope. We were so busy thinking about how awesome we were that nobody did the math on how many emails would equal squats. At first we were all like "woo!!! squat time!" then by that 10th squat we were dragging a bit. Then by the time we made it to our 20th squat, I was like fuck this shit. But guess what? It was only 9am. YES!!! Only one damn hour had passed. And I still had until 5pm?! Hell to the naw! My body was BURNING!! So I tried to get creative, every customer who emailed me I picked up the phone and called them right away instead of sending an email. Hell, customers who were like Makita, you can just email. I was like nah, let me upload it to your page and you'll be able to access it that way. For real, by 10am I was crying out for Mary, Jesus, and Joseph. Shoot, I was crying out for that little lamb that be in half them Jesus paintings.

Random, but doesn't Jared Leto now look like Funny Jesus?

By 11am, my manager came over and asked us what we were doing. She said we had never made this many phone calls ever. Shoot, we were all giving the best customer experience that day. No email was not important that day! So we went back to the drawing board and decided that 1 email = 1 squat was re-damn-diculous and that 5 emails = 2 squats. Much better, much more doable. So now, I'm averaging about 20-25 squats throughout the day while at work. Next month we move up to 5 emails = 4 squats. Cause you know, you gotta keep progressing.


*Also includes time I am sitting down to a meal/driving/activities generally performed sititng

30 Day Fitness Challenge...Here We Go Again

Did I ever tell y'all how I have a serious addiction to workout DVDs? No, seriously, I'm not joking. I have everything from Sweating with the Spirit (yes, you read that right. Workouts set to gospel music) to damn near every single TaeBo workout ever made. Throw in some Pilates, Pole Dancing, Jillian Micheal's and every other workout you can think of. True story, they all work. I'd swear by each and every one of them. Have a lost weight using them? Yep. Do I enjoy doing them?

Well...

I do. Until the novelty wears out. But does that stop me from buying them, swearing this time will be different? Nope. But now, I've gotten addicted to these fitness memes going around. Especially all the 30 day challenge ones. Cause you know, 30 days is all it takes to get fit. Yep. In 30 days from now, your ass is going to be beach ready. Right...cause it only takes 30 days to undo all the bad habits you've developed over the years. As cynical as I am, I still love these things. I don't know why. I know I'm not going to be looking sick like Serena Williams in 30 days, yet I still do the daily goal. I give myself no false hope. I guess they're just fun. But here's where my addiction kicks in. I don't just stop once the 30 days is over. I keep going. Sometimes, I do the same 30 days challenge, sometimes I mix it up and start a new one. At times, I've done two in the same 30 day period. I'm currently doing the 30 day plank challenge and the 30 day little black dress challenge.

 Besides, saving a meme and then printing it out is a hell of a lot cheaper than buying another workout DVD.

Heaven help me if they ever start making DVDs of these 30 day challenges. Oh, wait. They do. And I already have like 6 of them. No further comment.

Today, My Heart Opened Up and I Cried

Today was such a bad day for me emotionally and physically. I woke up in a lot of pain from the retrolisthesis. What's that? I have a vertebrae in my lower back that is pushed inward instead of aligned with the rest of my spine. What does that mean? It means my hip and lower back take turns agonizing me. And sometimes, like today, they decide to play together. When my arm started tingling I had a panic attack. Which was definitely not good.

I started playing the What If game. Despite the fact that I just saw my orthopedic surgeon two days ago, I managed to work myself into a frenzy. Completely ignoring his "Makita, honey you're doing great! Look at all that new bone growing!" I'm healing very nicely, I can't believe it's been nearly six months since I went under for the surgery. It's crazy how time flies.

Anyway, back to my sucky day. So I was in pain physically and emotionally my heart felt drained. I miss my boys. Yes, I always miss my boys when they are with their father, but this weekend just seems LONG. And I know it's because of Easter and the fact I haven't spent Easter with them since 2010, but still it just kind of all ganged up on me today.

To make matters worse, my stupid bank sent me a new card all because they want to protect me from merchants with shitty security standards. Gee thanks bank. You know what would have been super helpful? If you had told ME ahead of time. Imagine my horror at trying to pay my bills online only to keep having my card declined. It didn't help that when I called my electric company, the representative was a total asshole. Thank you Everything Electricity, I will NOT be renewing with you. Anyway, I called the bank and they told me that they sent me a new card, but my current one should still be useable. Wrong. So I try to use my back up card. Guess what? It's also not working. I called them to find out what's happening because I can SEE MY MONEY in my account but I can't use. Guess what? Trying to get to a live person to speak to was like trying to find Waldo in a SuperBowl crowd. I got frustrated and started pushing buttons hoping one would connect me to a live person.

Wrong.

Somehow, I selected fraud activity and managed to deactivate that card. I lost my shit and just burst into tears. I'm now in physical pain, lonely, hungry, and penniless. I sat in the break room and just bawled. I cried because I was in pain. I cried because I was lonely. I cried because I was hungry. I cried because I was frustrated with the bank and myself for not carrying cash. I cried until I just couldn't cry anymore. And when I could, I cried some more.

The sad thing to me is not one single person stopped and asked me if I was okay. I work in building with at least two to three hundred people. Not one of them stopped.

Except my TSR, who is now my work husband.

He didn't say a single thing, just pulled me into his arms and let me cry. And it wasn't a pretty cry either. No, it was one of those body shaking cries that leaves you ready for a nap. He held me until I couldn't cry anymore, listened to me, and then gave me cash so I could do little things like get gas and food. To say I love this man would be an understatement. It's crazy because when we first started working together, he annoyed me. He's hyper at times. Okay, he's hyper ALL the time. But, he great. And he's a solid person. Most of all, he knows how much I hate asking for help. He knows how "strong" I like to be and not a damsel in distress. He knows my pride sometimes gets in my way. He knows my moods. He knows when to leave me alone and run for the hills. And when to comfort me and not to let me wander off alone.

He knows all that and still manages to me one of my very best friends.

I hate crying at work. Of all the places in the world, work in the last place I ever want to cry. I try to save my crying for my lunch break when I can go home and cry in solitude. Or at the very least my car where I can turn the volume all the way up and pretend I'm invisible.

Today, my heart opened up and I cried. And I had a friend to help me through it.

I'm Tired, Really Tired

Brace yourself. Seriously, brace yourself. Okay, then whatever. Don't say I didn't warn you!

*ahem* I'm tired of eating meat.

I told you to brace yourself.

I don't know if it's a phase or what. I've done the vegetarian lifestyle before and it went well. I stopped because I just got tired of not eating meat. I want to be like oh, I'm going vegetarian for _____ and_____ and of course_____. But real talk, I'm just tired of eating meat. This feeling of being over meat started a few months ago. I've been trying to push that dirty little thought to the back of mind ever since, but the more time passes the more it's ebbing itself into my daily life.

I've been skipping meat several times a week lately. Don't get me wrong, I've knocked out a cow or two and several little piggies in the last few months, but not like I used to. Meat still tastes wonderfully delicious (drool), but honestly I'm just not that into it right now.

I don't know. Maybe I'm just hormonal right now. Maybe this will be a meatless phase. We'll see.

And, please spare me " oh do it do it!! it was the best decision I ever made...." song and dance. I've never been one of those people to do something because it worked my sister's cousin's baby daddy's auntie. Nope.

Feel Like I'm Slacking

Maybe because I am? Usually I feel like the hardest working mom in single momhood, but not lately. Usually, I'm so stressed trying to juggle work, family, friends, Makita time, etc. I wish I could say something has changed, but it honestly hasn't. Wait, it has. I know what's changed. I've learned to start living in the moment and just go with the flow.

Don't get me wrong, I still bust my ass. Boys need some project or goodie for school? Better believe my ass is up until midnight or later making sure they have it. A work project still pending? Yep, I'm logging in at night once the boys are settled and putting in another 4 hours at minimum. It's true, I work hard for the life I've created for me and the boys.

But now, I play hard too. I've gotten better at setting boundaries for myself. It's midnight and I still need a dozen more cupcakes? Guess what? Store bought cupcakes won't kill them. 11pm and I still have another account to scrub? Oh well, that customer will survive another day without it.

Life is just too short for me to waste all my time doing things that pull me away from the important stuff. Like simply enjoying my children. When I think about it, I spend at least 40 hours a week at work. This does not include the time 4-5 hours I put in after I get home and the boys are settled. When I think about it, I spend less time than a week with the boys. Weekends not included as I have to alternate the weekends with their dad. Think about it. I drop the boys off at school about 7:30, I don't pick them up from daycare until about 5:30 (on a good day). So truly, I only spend about 3 waking hours with the boys from the time I pick them up until bedtime to have family time. Which includes homework, activities, and dinner. Then I get them up the next morning at 6:30. The hour in the morning (except for my middle who has to get up at 6 because of his awesome turtle skills) is spent getting ready for the day, fixing homework errors, and breakfast. So let's add that up, that's only 24 hours a week, give or take.

I know. I try not to let the time deficient bother me most days. Actually, I try to rectify it most days by surprising the older two at school by having lunch with them and volunteering for events at school. With my younger, we have our special "it's supposed to be a secret, but 5 years old can't keep secrets" donut day. On these days, I go into work a little later so I can spend more time probing the wonders only a 5 year old mind can truly appreciate. And on the weekends they are with me, I do my best to unplug from work completely and not even touch my work laptop. For the most part, I do a great job.

So yeah, I'm slacking I guess. Slacking at the non important and focusing more on the important. That's a feeling I can get used to.

Life is Meant to be Lived

In March of 2010, I tried to kill myself. I know. Relax. You're probably thinking "what?! why?! how could you?! what about your children?!"

Am I right? Yep. I know.

I tried to kill myself and I was successful. But wait a minute Makita, how in the hell were you successful if you're still here talking about it today? I was successful in that I killed off the demons that have clung to me since I was a child. I've always known I was a bit different. The ability to blend in a crowd and stand out in a crowd. The ability to make others feel so at home while also alienating others. The mean girl? The angry one? The one that knew just what scathing remark to make to cut someone down to their very core? Yes, that one. I killed her. Underneath all that anger was a scared little girl who wallowed in depression and confusion. Scared to ask for help, unsure of where to even seek it, and slowly but surely killing herself from the inside out. My meanness was my defense mechanism. I disguised it as strength. Never let them get to close. Never let them see you sweat. Never let them know your tears fall hard and silent when no one is looking. Never let them see you for who you really are.

That poor girl was hurting. She was hurting so much that she finally had had enough of the pain and decided to let go. Her life was in shambles. She felt she was hurting others more than she was helping, especially her own children. How could she take care of her children when she couldn't take care of herself. So one night after being screamed at for being a weak person, she laid down with a bottle of pills and convinced herself she was weak and that those in her life would be better off without her.

Though that wasn't the night she died. She died after that night.

It was through that act of trying to kill myself that I learned how to live by getting rid of that girl and her demons. Though I had been in therapy for years, it wasn't until I had my own "a-ha" moment (as Mama Oprah likes to call them) that I accepted and clearly understood I need to let go of the hurt and start living my life in the moment. I went onto divorce my husband, nurse my oldest through his first bout with a blood disorder, go through financial hardships, deal with my grief, face prison time (no, I didn't go...the charges were dropped), and survive surgery on my spine. When I say I've been through some shit. I mean I've been through some shit. Life has not always been kind to me. When that girl inside me was still alive with her demons, I would have fallen into the deepest depression to cope. Or lashed out at everyone around me to stop them from seeing me weak.

But that girl is dead. She died the night I accepted I wanted more from life. I wanted more from ME. I wanted more for my children. I wanted more for MYSELF. I deserve more.

I know this post came out of left field. I'm actually sitting at the airport in Orlando, ready to board a flight home with my boys. I surprised them with a trip to Universal Orlando. I'm sitting here watching several children and their families get off a flight and they are all with a Make a Wish Foundation. My heart hurts. For those children. For their parents. For everyone whose lives they have touched. And I am reminded that life is meant to be lived. That is what those children are doing. They are living their lives to the fullest while they still have the ability to do so. I adopted that motto for myself not long ago. I want to live life. I want to experience every single moment from the good to the bad. To the heartwarming to the heart wrenching.

Life is meant to be lived. Live it!