"Is it a bird? Is it a plane?"

“With great power must also come, a great responsibility” Words of truth spoken from the costume clad mouth of Stan Lee’s Spiderman.  Granted - the power that comes with Peter Parkers secret superhero self is far greater than what we will ever know, given the fact he has a 6^th sense that alerts him to danger, perfect balance and equilibrium along with superhuman speed and agility. Let’s also not forget his webs shooting from his hands and the way he can motor up, and stick to,  the tallest of sky scrapers.

My brothers passion for Superheroes made me laugh at first as I was amused that a grown man would want to keep “boy dolls” but through his passion and a well thought out gift made for him I started getting drawn into the world of “Superness”, myself. Again, its amazing how so much of ones times can be spent on fantasizing about alter egos and the desire to be someone/something more that what we currently are.

I have mentioned before about the large portion of my day that is spent on my Rock Star fantasy – let me fill you in on what the little gaps in between are spent on wishing I was… Yup! 10 points for those who already figured it out! A superhero! DUH! Or Super heroine for the absolute feminists out there.

Yes I would love to be a power wielding, costume wearing, secret identity carrying, theme tuned, independently wealthy, superhero with a back story of note and headquarters with several levels of secret lairs but preferably no Achilles heel or weakness.

If I were a superhero – I already have my ideal costume.. Since I’m already a ripped skinny jeans, Black Sabbath t-shirt wearing, ol’ school Chuck Taylors, kinda gal by day, by night I would be scantily clad in a black lace corset with fishnets and black and bottle green netted tutu. I would have lace up combats up to my knees and a short black punked up mo-hawk! (think Pink!) My arms would have full tattooed sleeves and I would have my Justice peace across my collar bone. I would have a 6^th sense that turns certain streaks of my hair green or purple when danger is near or when my powers are low or strong. (that one requires more thought clearly!)

My headquarters would be held at the House Of Galahad and although it would still look like home to most – I would have control panels and the like, allowing me access to lofts n basements which would house all my superhero stuff and weaponry! I think Iron mans little set up but with a bit more pink would be perfect!

I would want to be somewhat of a shape shifting, slashing, mentalist. (Think - Plastic man, Mr. Fantastic, Mystique, Wolverine, Elektra, Phoenix and Professor x to name a few) So I could still have weapons coming from my hands, change my body to fit a situation and still have the ability to control or read the minds of those around me. Of course I would not be giving up the usual superhero powers of superhuman strength, ability to fly, enhanced senses and possibly even the projection of energy balls.

Las if having all of the above isn’t cool enough, with all superheroes comes a strong moral code – this is what sets them aside from being a super villain. (Um thanks Captain Obvious) This doesn’t come from any super power but comes from the pureness of good wanting to defeat evil and continue to defend good. Okay – check! This is one superhero I already possess.

As for a back story and a name, well that’s still a work in progress but if you stick around I’ll let you know when I have one….. Oh and a slogan….

For those of you who think I’m a child – I am….. This is childish and lame and will probably never happen (I say probably because I don’t think Steve Rogers had any idea that, after being injected in 1941 by an experimental serum, he would become “THE” Captain America, but he did – so there is hope)  but its fun to think about the lighter side of life and to imagine ourselves in another world…. Even if it is on ya coffee break in between clients….

Xoxo - The Worlds Mightiest Mortal. 

Tattoo or Taboo??

Okay so I have reached that fork in the road where my heart is saying one thing and my head and the influence of those around me, saying another. I have worked hard my whole life to build a career and now I have one. A successful one. I'm smart and passionate and great at what I do but along with that passion and a huge part of why I am successful is my wayward, self motivating nature. My passion. My creativity. My Expression. These are some of the I qualities I possess that make me good at what I do and why I can win over my clients and their trust. Its because I am honest and reliable and I say what I mean and I mean what I say.....  so with that being said and all those positive attributes coming from within, should it really matter what I look like on the outside?

Does it make a difference if I have one single tattoo on my wrist or an entire sleeve on my left arm? Does it make me less capable or less reliable to have the word, I 100% believe, defines who I am and what aspire to be on the inside of my forearm? Should I feel or be made to feel bad because I want to use my body as my greatest canvas and show off a lil of what I believe inside? I don't understand how some people are still so narrow minded when doing business. How does my tattoo or the colour or style of my hair affect my ability to do the job just as well as I have already proved I can?And if you have never done business with me before - who gives you the right to judge me based on my appearance if you have no idea what I am capable of in the corporate world?

Do our bodies really define us? I mean are all thin, non tattooed people nice, in control people? Are all overweight people useless and lazy? Do all tattooed folk come with a criminal record and a bad childhood? How stupid of anyone to believe that any of the above could be remotely true. Its naive and cynical and judgemental.Our bodies are our most prized possessions. We are the only ones who reserve the right to comment and we are the only ones who get to choose what we want them to look like, how we get to dress them and decorate them and at what size we would like to be.

Personally I don't think if I were dipped in a pot of ink it would make any difference to the work I do and the results I can achieve however why do so many people still have the same response.... "ooh but how are you going to cover those for work?" or "people wont take you seriously!" Really?! Is that the world we still live in?

Screw that shit, I'm me and I'm about to get inked! 

Over and out bitches! 

Feelings a bitch!

Emotion is the complex psycho physiological experience of an individual's state of mind as interacting with biochemical (internal) and environmental (external) influences. In humans, emotion fundamentally involves physiological arousal, expressive behaviors, and conscious experience. Emotion is associated with mood, temperament, personality, disposition and motivation. Motivations direct and energize behavior, while emotions provide the affective component to motivation, positive or negative.

There are many theories on emotion and its cause, dating back from ancient Greece all the way to modern scientific experiment.

The James - Lange theory argues that emotional experience is largely due to the experience of bodily changes. This theory and its derivatives state that a changed situation leads to a changed bodily state. You then have the Neurobiological theory. This explanation of human emotion is that emotion is a pleasant or unpleasant mental state organized in the limbic system of the mammalian brain.

These are just 2 of around 11 individual theories which is very interesting stuff however when going through many of these said emotions one tends not to give a flying rats ass what the cause is unless that cause has a face that you can punch, kiss or confront.

Just like art where you have your primary colors, you also have primary emotions. There are 6 primary emotions which consist of Excited, Tender, Scared, Angry, Sad and Happy. All of these categories have spans of sub categories of emotions we go through on a daily basis. Intimacy. Fear, antsy, nervous, rage, fury, dejection, depression, fulfillment, contentment. Some of which are stemmed from good social situations and some from bad.

I’m a person who bases all I know and most of what I believe on fact so thus the reason for my more serious blog however it seems no matter what factual evidence or findings I come across it doesn’t make me feel any better or any closer to understanding my own emotions while I’m in the middle of the bad ones. I run at a high voltage level of passion be in a positive or negative situation and with passion sometimes comes a serious lack of logic!

My theory is this though – too often our emotions are not dependant on our circumstance or our “changed situation” or the levels of serotonin in our brains but more so based on the individuals around us. We allow other human beings with different emotions to have the power and control to influence our emotion. We are happy when we feel safe and loved and we are having a good time, however we feel sad when we have been let down, or spoken to badly or dumped. The most important thing to keep in mind through all of this though, is that as human beings with the ability to feel emotion we have the power to make the choice. Maybe we can’t choose how we feel or who made us feel that way but I am beginning to believe that we can choose the length of time, we feel how we feel. It’s a natural progression, we lose, we grieve, we learn to cope, we get on with things, we survive and eventually things get better.

Its not ideal but it seems to be working so check my ass as I jump on this bandwagon to feeling better!

Peace, love and Rock n Roll! 

Thats just messed up....

I don’t pretend to not have a problem with things that I do and I don’t pretend to believe in things I don’t. I don’t lie and I’m not fake. I say it like it is. I don’t pretend to be sweet when I’m mad. I don’t pretend to not want things that I really, really do. I don’t play games and I don’t walk around like peoples feelings don’t matter. I don’t think I’m better than anyone else and I know I have my quirks n flaws that make me who I am.  I’m sometimes a sloppy drunk and sometimes things escape my mouth without fully being processed in my head. But I do feel remorse and I don’t like making anyone feel bad or hurt or used or unwanted. I don’t think I’m perfect but I know I’m special. I’m not conceited but I know I am a beautiful person. I have a good heart and I give everyone a chance. Even when you’ve blown yours there’s another waiting right around the corner. I try to make a difference and I try to keep on believing, even when at times I just feel like giving up. I try to be the best person I can be and sometimes I succeed and some days I fall flat. 

So I think it’s fucked up how you wake up one morning and decide to cut me from your life. No word. No warning. Just like that! Like I don’t matter?! Its sucks because I didn’t do anything wrong so how I am still left feeling guilty?

It crap cos I am left with no explanation. No words said. I’m just left hanging like I didn’t meant shit. The worst thing is that ill never know because its perfectly clear I was given the chance to ask. 

Every hello ends with a goodbye but it still matters the way you say it! 

Men really are from Mars......

Ok I get men and woman come from entirely different planets. This has been a theory rehashed and regurgitated and discussed and spoken about inside out for hundreds of years but for a generation of scientists who can cure disease and technologically advanced braniacs who can create cell phones that connect to social networks which can pin point your exact location How the HELL have we not learnt to figure each other out??? And why does it seem like we are not even trying? 

In my opinion you either want something or you don’t! You either say something and mean it or you don’t. You either getting something out of your actions or your not so when someone comes along and blows that all out of the water for me I cant help but somewhat freak out a little. You see a lot of people may argue that I’m at times complex and over analytical BUT I actually just crave simplicity. I just crave honesty and the balls for someone to be straightforward. All I want is to know what the facts are so that I can deal with them appropriately and move on. I don’t like limbo and I don’t like living in a grey patch. 

Men seem to think that the way they act is for the greater good of women kind whereas woman just want the straight up truth. For all the haters and all those who think I’m on a man bashing mission – Stop Breathe and understand this is a blog where thoughts and opinions of mine and those around me can be expressed, so before you judge just remember Fallen Butterfly is an Expression of Self. Kay back to it – I have a lot of male friends and it seems whenever a girl they just happen to know gets hurt (by them) the first words that come out of their mouths go something like this…… “well I told her from the beginning I didn’t want a relationship” or “this is exactly why id didn’t want to sleep with her.” Thanks for realising that after you fucked up Einstein! 

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but all the while you were telling that girl how you didn’t want to hurt her and how you just wanted to be friends – the fact that you kept on sleeping with her and taking her out and messaging her all the lil cute quirky quotes you probably get weekly updates from cheesypickuplines.com – you were very conscious of what you were doing and could have spent your time in a ore worthwhile way, like , I dunno, NOT leading the girl on. 

You could have not wasted her time with all your melodramatic bullshit and stopped thinking with your penis and considered how you would feel if the tables were turned. Sucks to admit but I bet you wouldn’t like it. I’m not saying its only men that do this cos I have heard that there are woman out there that do the same but thank my lucky stars I have never had the pleasure of befriending any of them because I feel its a cheap lame attempt of making yourself feel good and wanted, when the people in question are really just very insecure. 

I can’t really write from a mans perspective as I am clearly not a man but for all the men who are reading this, this is how you should play this situation out from a woman’s point of view… Firstly if you don’t want a relationship then don’t have one – don’t pretend to be in one when its suits you and have the balls to be honest from day one. If you go to a club and you looking to get laid and you actually happen to come right but see no future with the woman in question, then don’t swap numbers, BB pins or FB names, and don’t say you’ll call when you both know you wont. Stop thinking of yourselves as the stronger sex, because times have changed and that is hugely debatable at this point. We can earn our own money and take out our own trash.  Stop thinking that you gonna hurt every girls feelings by telling the truth – some of us actually prefer to hear it so we don’t have to get caught up in a game either. And some of us just don’t really care cos we don’t really think you’re all that anyway.  Understand the harsh reality that in today’s day and age women are not so privy to sex after marriage and sometimes you are the one who is being used so therefore your string of dinners and dorky messages are completely unnecessary. 

If you are not looking for sex or a relationship with a girl and merely just want a friendship DON’T flirt with her when you hard up for a attention and if you know (an make sure you are not assuming boys) that she is looking for a guy who wants that, then introduce her to someone who is on the same page. Don’t fuck your friends and don’t date your booty calls - its all very simple.

Girls work on signs and they read into almost everything so the best way to handle us is with honesty. Tell a girl she has a big bum, and yes, chances are she won’t talk to you again, but her ass will be hauled into the gym tomorrow where it will slowly begin to deplete but lie to her foR 6 months and watch it grow. Admitting after you screwed up and then saying “well at least I was honest” doesn’t mean shit – in fact its even worse because they way I see it,  its like a murderer killing someone and then confessing with the deluded logic that its okay now because they confessed. It doesn’t change the suffering they caused and doesn’t redeem your actions. 

So in a final plea to all the bastards out there who think they doing us a favour – Get over yourselves and try and be a little bit decent and be honest BEFORE you mess us around. Our time is just as valuable as yours and we would prefer to waste it on ourselves and our mates than on a douche bag like you!  

Rock on or Rock out! 

Ladies will understand...men prepare to be educated!!

This is just too funny not share... My mom found this online and its for all the ladies cos we ALL know we have ALL been there! 

When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place.

Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors.

Every cubicle is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the cubicle.

You get in to find the door won't latch.

It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!

The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty.

You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!) down with your pants and assume ' The Stance.

In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to lay toilet paper on it, you hold 'The Stance.'

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.

In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Dear, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your bag (the bag around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time).

That would have to do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.

The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest and you and your bag topple backward against the tank of the toilet.

'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.

 It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late.

 Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.

You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear,

'You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water that covers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes.

The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted.

 You try to wipe with a sweet wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting

You are no longer able to smile politely to them.

A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it?)

You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men's toilet.

Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck?

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with any public rest rooms/toilets (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!).

It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers that other commonly asked question about why women go to the toilets in pairs.

 It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your bag and hand you Kleenex under the door.

This HAD to be written by a woman!

No one else could describe it so accurately.

This is so classic - wish i had written it myself!  

Remember ya Kleenex ladies!