I'm peeing rainbows. Be proud.

Hold me, like the river Jordan.

I think people would generally describe me as a positive person - at least I hope so. I enjoy happiness and hugs. I can laugh at myself, and love to cheer people up. But the truth is, being positive (and loving Celine Dion) on the outside is very different from truly feeling positive on the inside.

These days, it has taken some serious focus to stay positive and feel gratitude (yesterday's blog post excluded). The first rule of being positive is that you should never dare say it's hard, or else you're just being negative about being positive. But you know what - it can be freakin hard sometimes. Sure, its easy when you are in Disney World with a margarita in one hand and a guide map to Fantasy Land in the other. PIECE. OF. CAKE. But staying positive all year around despite Spring snow storms, bad news, trending conspiracies and bad hair days can be tough, let alone dealing with more significant personal mountains. Take it from me, you have to dig real kinds of deep to uncoil from the the fetal position and stop crying out - WHY GOD?!? WHY?!?! I'M NOT MOVING UNTIL CHEESE AND WINE FALL FROM THE SKY IN SWEET REPRIEVE - when you're going through the hard stuff. 

If you've ever been separated from someone you love, or have felt great disappointment or lows of any capacity, you know it can be painful and the Doodle Bop or Disney Princess inside you feels far away - hibernating in a place you are desperate to tap into, but can't quite find. You feel helpless. You feel alone. You feel like you need a pep talk from Danny Tanner every hour just to get through the day (and perhaps a hug from Uncle Jessie... yeah, that wouldn't hurt either). But you still have to go on with your life and enjoy the meantime, even in the hard times. But HOW?!

I do not have the all-knowing answer or cure-all, but I do know starting small is always the first step to shifting to a more positive place. So let's start small together in a little list I'd like to call...

Dear Universe: I'm Being Freakin Positive. Okay?! Great.

• It's snowing outside. Snow is magical for small children to frolic in. It's not rain. It's not a natural disaster. It's pretty to look at from inside sitting next to your space heater. I have a space heater. Summer. Is. Coming.  
• It's not Saturday. At least it's not Monday which means we are one day closer to Saturday which should be warmer because Summer. Is. Coming.
• I have 35 miles left in my gas tank. If I go no where else, I can get to and from work 35 times.
• My boyfriend is deployed. I don't have to shave my legs for seven months. Well, unless I am going to the pool because Summer. Is. Coming. 
• My butt cheeks are very sore making it difficult to function. Working the booty means having a smaller booty. Which is important because Summer. Is. Coming.
• I haven't gone to the grocery store in three weeks. I'm discovering the wide array of recipes I can make using egg beaters, pasta, and cheese (because lets get real, I'm never out of cheese). I am now destine for cookbook success.
• I'm never out of cheese and Summer. Is. Coming. Enough said. 

Sincerely,
Positive Polly

Is it Friday yet?

You think you have it bad....

Dear Monday,

You're here again, uninvited. You just had to swing back around to remind me just when things were getting fun and relaxing that I am not, in fact, the Princess of Arendelle. I have no magical powers to unfreeze winter and the growing size of my ass from margaritas is not something I can just "let go." Hugs and kisses for that reminder.

As if this reality was not harsh enough, you make me question my moral character. I shamefully admit, as the alarm clock cracks through my Sunday evening slumber to announce your arrival, I make a serious pro-con list in my half-stupor regarding the decision to actually go to work versus fake some kind of womanly issue no one would question just to stay in bed.

• PRO - Stay in bed eating cheetos and watching daytime TV.
• CON - Coworkers think I have womanly issues...
• PRO - Did I mention CHEETOS?
• CON - I have to keep my job to make money to afford CHEETOS. 

That last CON gets me every time.

The bottom line is, unless you are Labor Day, Memorial Day, MLK day or any other major holiday that allows me to stay in bed thus passing the "you suck" torch off to Tuesday, you pretty much blow.

So I would like to make a recommendation that you and treadmills team up and start a club called "Where Fun Goes to Die" and leave the rest of us alone. Because let's get real - the treadmill is totally qualified to join you in this endeavor. The process of stepping on, entering in your weight (rude) and then pressing in the amount of time you plan to run (prance around) working off the (block of) cheese you hastily consumed the day before (for some of you that X is probably something legit like 30 minutes..... let's just say, good for you guys!) is right up there with waking up and realizing it is in fact, Monday and I am not, in fact, a Disney Princess.

Oh, and one more thing. I nominate Winter to be your Vice President. What a persistent and never-ending monster she has been! Please, team up and go find people who enjoy things that suck - they likely work at the DMV.

Thanks in advance for your consideration. 

The Bubble

Sorry, Ken.

I grew up in a delightful bubble. I had a great home with amazing parents. As children, my sister and I were far too concerned with barbies and dream houses to ever pay attention to G.I. Joe or toy guns, let alone what they represented in the real world. Baby dolls graduated to dance lessons and Dawson's Creek. We avoided the heavy nature of local or world news by flipping the channel to the latest Saved By the Bell episode. And when history lessons got too dark, I would drift off to a day dream where Mr. Feeny was my teacher and I had my very own Corey Matthews. The Sixth Sense was my ability to sense cheese from a mile away and September 11th made me physically sick for weeks, even at 12 years old (The Brady Bunch got me through that one). I even had nightmares of Oregon Trail, the computer game, because the idea of my sister dying from a snake bite (even just virtually) was extremely traumatic. Yep.

You could argue I have preserved that bubble quite well, even in my adult age. Of course my awareness of the world and the toxic way it often turns is not nearly as sheltered. In fact, that bubble I grew up in ended up being the same hometown that 20 innocent children's lives were taken in their classroom - talk about the most unimaginable bubble burst. But with time, hugs, Celine Dion, and inordinate amounts of dancing around my living room, I slowly build that bubble back up to restore my belief that the world is good and nothing bad will happen to me or the ones I love.

Well, remember that G.I. Joe my sister and I so flippantly ignored as kids? I happened to fall in love with him. And while I do not wish this love to be any different, because it truly is everything I had hoped for, it certainly creates a unique challenge for me and my bubble, as he left for a seven month deployment yesterday. Suddenly, the safe, fun and loving life we have experienced together is put on pause, flooded with uncertainty and fear. So many "what if's" fly in from every direction of my imagination, trying to pop, prod and burst my bubble. Snake bites, now, are the least of my worries.

I have women in my life I have known for years married to men in the military and I used to say to them, "Gosh! I have no idea how you do it. I could never, ever do that! You are so strong!" And let me be very clear about this - I meant it. But as they always say, it happens when and where you least expect it. And so, here I am, about to find out how strong I really am - insistent on making lemonade out of some really tough lemons by staying naively positive, having the utmost faith and essentially dancing around in my little bubble belting out "The Power of Love" until he comes home.

Because the truth of the matter is, if we can learn anything from missing planes, tragic accidents and unexpected tears in the fabric of our lives (did I just quote a soap opera?) it is that life is too short to not enjoy your bubble and all of the immediate joy that surrounds us every day. Sometimes, we have to turn off the news, say a prayer, cuddle a newborn, turn on our favorite song, and remind ourselves that everything is going to be okay. It is the only way I know how to cope with my fears, and in turn the only way I know how to get through the next seven months. Well, with Celine, and all of you of course.

So build a bubble every once in a while and remind yourself that the world is good, that God is good, and that even when your lemonade is bitter sweet, it's worth enjoying.

After the final barf

Who besitos better? Hiyaya!

Wow. I am pretty speechless, you guys. This has been a whirlwind of a season and I have never been more glad for it to be over. The finale last night was such an uncomfortable train wreck and quite honestly, the idea of reliving it in this post is a bit daunting. It took all my strength not to turn off the TV during the acid-trip roller coaster that made even the even-tempered Chris Harrison hostile. It was like we were transported to an alternate universe where Nikki becomes a smiling robot, Chris Harrison has a cat-fighting hoohah and Sharleen's purple-ninja lipstick is "in." I have to believe there is some weird shit that went on behind the scenes of this season. But before I share my theories, let's all get on the same page.

Last week I did not post about The Women Tell All because quite honestly, the whole thing was a hoohah shit show and I was suffering from a sinus infection which made me question if I even processed what went down. Not only was I not feeling lucid, but at that point, the show had become a joke and the "attention-whore" mentality of these women was way too much to even recap. For those who watched, here were my key takeaways - 

• Sean was sexually assaulted by a sting ray on his honeymoon.
• Grown sexy bangs are just grown ugly.
• No one has yet asked Kellie what the HELL A DOG LOVER DOES FOR INCOME but we did learn that she has a gay parent and wants to cut off Juan's penis.
• Renee has a "situation" which I think is very deserved and it explains why she is not the next Bachelorette.
• Being called a "special one" is not a compliment. Think more "short bus" than "awesome."
• "Honesty" is the new word for insulting and crass.
• Chris Harrison was super glad to finally get some air-time on this show.
• Andi is completely being set-up as the next Bachelorette, which is also why she is throwing Juan a bone and not completely ripping him a new one.
• Sharleen is the only woman Juan actually talked to on the show - likely to find breathing time between her lizard kisses. 
• Juan Pablo is digging himself back to Venezuela with all of his confusing accented chatter and none of these women are assepting his - how do you call it in our country? Oh, bull shit.

Okay that pretty much takes cares of THAT episode. Thrilling and insightful all around. 

Now as for last night, I have to be honest - I missed Clare meeting his family because I was stuck in traffic, having a full on panic attack at the idea of missing out and therefore blasting Celine Dion to calm down. However, here is how I imagine this went down - Clare did her cheerleader facials and explained to the family how much she cares for Juan. His braces-clad bro got a hard-on as she over-enunciated her love for his brother. The brother in turn asks Clare if she talks the way she does because she is wearing a retainer in her mouth and they share orthodontic stories until sunset.

So you see friends, I'm the real catch here.

Cut back to Chris Harrison and the "live" portion of the show. Cut to me frantically flipping on the TV and wondering why we just spent an entire segment on the audience's thoughts. I don't give a crap - there has to be at least 48 solid hours of footage from these two days and you're wasting time asking Jack and Jill their thoughts?! No one cares, Chris. Stop being a camera hog. 

Okay - back to the show. Nikki meets the family and it is the same old crap - they all warn her of Juan's selfish ways, and she smiles and nods as if they just confessed he once saved a baby from a small house fire. The disconnect between the warnings and these women's feelings is mind blowing. I'm bored. 
  
During Juan's final date with Clare he says something unimaginable to her in the helicopter and she is super duper offended and will never speak the words out loud for fear dead daddy would disown her forever. HELLO?! Does anyone think it is weird that all of these highly offensive comments happen off-camera?! What the heck?! I call conspiracy on the whole thing! Anyways, Clare really holds her ground that evening when Juan comes over and has "besitos" turrets. She exercises some minor self-control and sits him down to question the incident, which Juan has absolutely no recollection of. Women everywhere are chanting feminist cheers of joy for about three minutes until she is hypnotized by Juan's back-peddling accent and their "wedding" song. Suddenly, they are making out again and all is well. I want to throw up. 

For Nikki and Juan's final date, they sit on a boat and talk about nothing. At this point Juan might as well not even be there because he adds nothing to the dynamic. But we all know that Nikki will definitely win because outside of a quick eye-roll on the beach when Juan said he would be doing a lot of stimulating TV watching in his office ALONE most days, she hasn't given him shit for anything. She is such a nervous wreck in their final hours, but she has the golden ticket to Juan's heart - besitos, no drama, and a gift of her in a fringed bikini top straddling a horse. Boom. Done deal. And yet she ends the night balling her eyes out on the couch. Is this really happening or did someone slip something in my soup?

Where is Niel Lane? Where is the swelling romantic background music? Where is the love?!

Sean: Juan, you're worse than my wife's bangs.

We all know what happens next - Chris has to survey every member in the audience including Bachelor alums (and some random blonde chick in the top row... anyone know who the heck that was?!) as to how they feel about what is going down. That is like asking someone - how do you feel after getting food poisoning?! We don't feel good Chris. Let's keep this show rolling. 

We are at the final day and we all know Juan is going to pick Nikki. The only shock here is that Juan had any room in that skin-tight suit to pocket a ring. And he was not the only one with wardrobe issues. Nikki lost her dress and decided to drape a blue rag over her chest. And, the producers decided it would be a great idea to stick the women on a speed boat to get to the proposal destination after they've spent hours on their hair and make-up. But wait, there's more. Now they have to power through sand and mud in stiletto heels....! Let's see who eats it first! This show just became Survivor. 

We realize the minute we see dress instead of just skin and leg that Clare is the one to get the boot. The moment Clare realizes Juan has not picked her she has a ground-breaking, defining, Rocky moment where she takes back everything she said about 15 seconds before she knew she was rejected and goes NUTS. With three air-snaps and a series of daddy digs she is back on the boat confused and angry. Welcome to how we felt all season as viewers. 

Then Juan picks Nikki because he likes her A LOT, but he does not propose because of Nikki's dad... or something. Fireworks and magic explode no where... CAN THIS PLEASE BE OVER NOW. 

Shoot.. what was I supposed to say next?

The After The Final Rose special was just how you would expect it to play out based on the judgmental and disgusted live portion cut-ins throughout the show. No one likes Juan. No one is excited for the couple. Clare's hoohah grew three-sizes since becoming an empowered woman in the face of rejection. And if you ask me, she knows now that she dodged a real bullet. And poor Nikki - she looks like the biggest smiling robot of a fool. I honestly do not believe for ONE SECOND that they are actually together or happy. I think they made a deal either with each other or the producers to play "happy" and Nikki is getting some kind of cut of something. She looked so trapped - like Katie Holmes when she got brainwashed by Tom Cruise and Scientology. It was just bizarre how they were acting and skirting any talk of how they actually feel about each other. Straight up, bizarre.

But the women were tame compared to the men - Sean wanted to punch Juan in the face, Chris Harrison was certainly encouraged to ham it up, and did not hold back. Overall, all of the energy was just embarrassing when Nikki and Juan are likely already broken up and simply playing a part for ratings. Juan will feel the heat for a few weeks in the tabloids and then he will go back to his boring, TV-watching, self-consumed life. Let's hope one day Dora wakes him up with a "Come on, vamanos!" song and helps him find his manhood over the river and through the woods. Until then, he can go far, far away.

So that concludes this season of The Bachelor, friends. It has certainly been an interesting ride. As for me, the sun is shining and Spring is finally upon us (let's hope it stays awhile!). I will be back soon with some updates and writing more in the absence of my man who leaves next week for his 7 month "business trip." Until then!