LATRODECTUS

Opinions to be heard; Words to inspire. Detroit | Washington DC | Royal Oak | Honolulu | Grand Rapids | Chicago A group of females just spreading thoughts, Latrodectus was coined for the Black Widow spider. Though we're all female, we cater to all topics and ideas, and are open to guest blogging from all genders. If interested in submitting to the blog, please contact us at the e-mail below. Contact: [email protected]

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Starbucks USA Issues a "Come Together" Petition with the intention of sending Washington signatures from it's patrons to get the Government back on track to avoid any future crisis. Through this weekend, customers can sign this petition before submitted to our country's leadership, in hopes that they will see a public outcry for a reinstated faith in America. - #DETamie #america • #governmentshutdown • #democracy • #starbucks

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Some Friday morning wisdom from the D. Sometimes the best way to motivate is to realize what's good, then remind yourself what you want. You'll be that much more focused and be working toward something at the same time. #positive #dreams #keepmovingforward

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Adoption Saves Lives

Aloha and good morning from the Hawaiian Islands! I've been a little quiet the past couple months; it has been a great time of transformation for myself and my husband. I would like to announce that we have adopted a beautiful one-year-old pup named Kane from the Honolulu Humane Society and we have delayed outside projects to focus on our growing, furry family. Kane comes into a family of fish, parakeets, guinea pigs, and, of course, us humans--all who have accepted him and love him as much as possible! This wasn't an easy transition and it was certainly hard not to be emotional while bringing Kane into our home. Kane is one of the bravest souls I know and even he knows that those bad times are behind him.

It makes me angry and upset to talk about those bad times. Kane spent his puppyhood in pain, hunger, and sadness; it was the only life he had ever known. Kane is a rescue dog. He was seized by the Humane Society earlier this year from people who abused him and neglected him. He was brought to the shelter and treated--but his abuse was mentally ingrained. Kane didn't respond well to human contact--he shied away from people and cringed under chairs or as far back into his cage he could go. He found comfort in his canine companions, but he was scared senseless of humans.

The rescuers told Ryan and I that he is a Mastiff/American Bulldog mix with the possibility that some Pitbull blood runs in his veins. Because of his lack of proper nutrition and care during his first year, he will most likely never reach the full 150-200lbs he should be; instead Kane is only 63lbs. He had been adopted once already by a family with young kids--the shelter volunteers were hopeful Kane had found his forever home, but a month later the family returned him saying he wasn't "social."

The whole story makes me upset. The whole ordeal this young, innocent puppy had to face is just unimaginable and my eyes burn with tears Kane can't shed.

My husband didn't know his story when he picked Kane to come home with us. We arrived at Petsmart an hour before the Humane Society arrived for the dog adoptions. Ryan had been looking at puppies online the night before and he made arrangements see some black Labrador retriever puppies after we saw the dogs at the adoption event--I don't think he was expecting to fall in love with Kane.

My husband has a soft spot for animals. He adopted our UGLY guinea pig, Ri Ri (his name is actually Beast, but Ryan insisted on calling him 'Retarded'). This little rodent is a hairless guinea pig with red eyes and little, scraggly tufts of fur. We originally went to the pet store to buy our guinea girl, Beauty, but Ryan wouldn't leave the shop without Ri. He later told me he wanted to adopt the ugly guinea pig because no one wanted him and he believed every animal deserved a chance-- turns out Ri is one cool animal. Within a week he was healthier, happier, and even running around his cage pop-corning; I'll admit it... he grows on you once you get over the whole hairless part ;)

So it was no surprise that when the Humane Society showed up, he bugged the poor rescue worker until she let him see some of the dogs. The very first he laid eyes on was Kane. I saw Ryan from inside Petsmart; he was hunched over and had his hand inside the big cage, his blue eyes already shining.

Here we go, I thought. Ryan is already in love!

The lady had Ryan back up as she pulled an absolutely gorgeous brindle and white dog out of the back of the truck. He had his tail tucked so far in between his legs that it looked like he didn't have one at first. He didn't even want to make eye contact with anyone and he crouched down on the sidewalk, shaking. Ryan sat down next to him and offered his hand. The dog ignored it at first, but after a few minutes he gave Ryan a sniff before turning his head away. He had the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. They were big and sad--the kind that pulls your heart strings and I knew he was the dog we were taking home. Ryan and I walked Kane around outside as far as we could around Petsmart. He was so scared, buy Ryan kept telling the dog,

"Don't worry, Kane-- we won't hurt you. You'll come home with us and have a good life."

We adopted him on the spot. We filled out the forms, dotted our i's, crossed our t's, and Kane was ours. He was so scared and I was afraid for him during the car ride home. He needed some coaxing to get into the house and we let him explore. After an hour or two, he had become comfortable enough to jump up and take Ryan's spot on the couch. I let him outside and threw a rawhide around--to my surprise he wagged his tail and started to chase after it--I felt like a proud mommy when her baby takes their first steps. The real reward came around dinner time when Kane gave Ryan and I both a kiss. We went back to Petsmart to get Kane another bed for upstairs when we ran into the lady who helped us earlier at the adoption event.

"Wow," she said. "He looks like a totally different dog!! I'm so happy for him!!"

This one furry animal has totally and completely changed our lives and the love we have shared with him and the bond we created has totally changed his. He wags his tail so fast now and so often, we have bruises covering the middle of our lower legs. I wake up every morning to Kane pressing his wet nose against my hand, nuzzling me to get up and play. Every night before bed, he grabs his favorite stuffed pig and tucks it right beside him for sleep. He gives us kisses and he even gives our guinea pigs a good lick or two! He is extremely obi dent and listens to us; he respects us when we tell him no and is enthused when he tell him yes. He is still shy around people, but he is much better than before. I look at his story, where he came from, and I'm filled with such emotion and joy that we were able to take his innocent animal and show him the compassion and love he deserves.

I try to imagine what he looked like when the rescuers saved him from his abusers, but then I think: Why? Why imagine that? Kane's moved on. He's learned to love and trust again; be mad about what happened to him, then move on to the happiness he has found. I love my dog more than anything because of his spirit, his ability to love unconditionally, and his enthusiasm to LIVE.

I cannot stress enough to people out there looking for a furry addition to the family--please, thing adoption first! There are so many shelter dogs who DESERVE a second chance (this was Kane's third!). It really does save lives.

On October 6th, 2013, Ryan and I will be participating in the Hawaiian Humane Society's annual PetWalk in Honolulu. In lieu of a registration fee, the HHS has asked for walkers to make teams; teams can then ask sponsors to donate and help the shelter continue taking care of rescued animals. It costs $250 PER ANIMAL to receive vet care and basic necessities. Ryan and I have set a goal for $250 to give at least one animal a better quality of life before going on to their forever home. I know that someone's donation helped Kane receive the care he desperately needing during his time at HHS and now we want to give back. Hopefully, we can raise more to help other animals, but every dime, every dollar, counts. Here is the link to our page and feel free to donate or just swing by to visit!! Our animals really are our families and here is just one small way we can give back!  

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/CassandraFossen/petwalk2013

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Make 'Em Laugh (Why Aren't You Laughing?)

Have you ever met someone and you just wondered and pondered who sucked the humor right out of their bones? You know, the dry people who don’t seem to laugh at anything? Being someone who’s constantly joking around, whether it be a coping mechanism to get through an awkward moment, or just spending time with hilarious people, I can’t understand how anyone would hate to joke around, to have a laugh. I’ve met a few in my lifetime, and I was thinking about this a lot lately: I don’t know how to be friends with someone who lacks a sense of humor. My whole basis of life is based on having fun. Maybe that’s the “Sagittarius trait,” if you believe in that sort of thing, but I literally can’t go through a day without cracking a joke, teasing someone (harmlessly, of course), or indulging in some humor based media. My friends can attest to this, I’m pretty much always making jokes, even when they aren’t always funny.  

  I’ve also never understood how someone who had such a big sense of humor could be romantically involved with someone who had no sense of humor. And I get it, that whole “opposites attract” thing works for some people, but that’s never worked for me. If you have no humor, you can’t take a joke, you can’t take being casually teased, or handle me making a dirty joke, for that matter, need not apply. Dry does not work for me.

  The worst is watching a friend with someone who doesn’t appreciate their humor. I’ve had countless friends who’ve gone into relationships/situations with someone who doesn’t appreciate their jokes. Who constantly gets offended by teasing. The ones that really fly off the handle and start an argument based on a simple jest. And after a while, after all of the negative dry behavior, it sucks the fun out of them. There’s no rule that says as we grow up we have to get rid of our sense of humor. Sure, it can be a judgmental quality if you laugh at something, like say, for example, your speedometer on your car because it looks like it says “boobs” on it, but in the end, you’ll find friends and a lover who appreciates that. I’m sure they are out there.

  No matter how difficult things get, or no matter how cool or mature you need to behave, don’t lose your sense of humor. Ever. Find the laughter, spread it. After all, a really good laugh fit is a good ab workout, right?

  (Donald O’Connor, Singin’ In The Rain, “Make ‘Em Laugh – YouTube Clip)

  -DETamie

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Un-popular Opinion: I hate blondes.

It’s terribly shitty, but I have to say it. I cannot stand skinny blondes. That’s probably stereotypical, but I can’t help it. It’s the truth. And even though some of my friends may be skinny and/or blonde and I can make allowances for them, it’s the brainless blondes, with the long ass hair, sometimes even with a color streak that BOIL. MY. BLOOD. It’s that girl you see on the beach or walking down the street with the shorts up her ass and her little playboy bunny decal that used negative space to create that little fufu hopping on her hipbone. It’s the ones that have cherries hanging from their belly button ring. Layered hair and highlights, showing off their midsection in their boosted up boobs in sort of corset tops, with their pink sparkled iPhone case. The ones that smack their gum, or wear their bikini tops in public, taking tons of Instagram pictures of themselves bending seductively over in an unnatural fashion. Every time I see a girl like this, I can’t help but think she’s trash.

  I’ve never been one to behave that way. I’m a sexual being, and I’m completely okay with that, but it’s not for every living soul to see. I’ve never been skinny, even with 7 days a week at the gym. So sure, it partially is probably a jealousy problem. I’m not ugly, by any means. I am actually really beautiful. And I do know that, in my own way. But because I am not flat stomached, I loathe these girls. That’s where my power is driven from. Where I get so disgusted with what I see the media portray. That skinny is the only way I’m gonna get a man. And you know what the worst part is? It seems true. If I’m golden brown and blonde, and have this rockin’ body, that I, too, will get the attention I want. You see guys fawning all over it, dreaming about them. Posting pictures of them or saying THIS is sexy. She’s always a blonde, with the perfect rack, maybe some hip piercings even. Her thighs don’t touch and she looks like she’s never worried about a damn thing in her life. And that’s what they want. And I hate it, because it’s everything I’m not.  

  I’d like to think the world is fair, and that one day that guys will snap out of it. That they will all of the sudden see the good in someone versus the lust they see on a bikini bod. That they would actually like someone with a mind and instead of what’s in the sack or on her rack. I can only hope that one day, when they are in their late thirties with their party days behind them, that they will be wrinkled from their tanning, and used up from being the village bicycle, and that it will be a fad of the past. Sure, I could blame everything else, but really it’s just my own prejudice, and I’m ashamed to admit it. 

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#FriendshipProbz: A 5-Tier Profile

Friends. It's a key component in social structure to have friends. And you know what? I’ve known a lot of people who suck at it. Don't get it twisted. I'm sure as hell not the golden child when it comes to being a 100% proper friend. But there are five types I can think off the top of my head that I've had to deal with in my lifetime. Here's a profile on 5 and how to deal, heal, run, or understand 5 common types of Friendship Problems. 1. If a friend is putting you down constantly: I know that some friendships are based on sarcasm and joking. So this rule applies past the line when it's malicious. Examples: if a "friend" projects their problems on you when they are angry, if they basically tell you that you're unattractive & will never find someone if you don't skank up your look/whore yourself out, or if they call you names/tell you that you have problems to get you to let down your guard so they can win the argument. If you have an abusive friendship with someone, and they are important to you, please stand up for yourself and talk it out with them. If they get to a point where they make you feel worse by being their friend, or you dread spending time with them because of the emotional beating it entails, sometimes it's better to just cease all contact or lessen the connection you have with them. Negativity and an abusive friend is not someone to keep around, especially if they don't see/refuse to acknowledge the error of their ways. 2. The "Secret" Friend: If you've got to hide a friendship, then there's obviously already something wrong with the situation. Say it's an ex-boyfriend/girlfriend of a close friend, or it's someone that's a conflicting pal who they don't like. IMPORTANT NOTE: Everyone is entitled to be friends with whoever they damn well please. If you don't like their choices, all you can do is voice your opinion and/or shut the hell up. If you have to hide a friendship from someone for the sake of hurting a persons feelings, you need to evaluate the friends you have and make the smartest decision: one that doesn't involve creeping around corners and going to coffee houses out of the way so you don't run into said psycho. If they have to keep you on the down-low to avoid offending another friend, and you’re the one being shoved in the dark, how much do you really mean to the person to begin with? If they really care for you, they are going to stand up for you/say “This is my pal, too. Deal with it, asshole.” 3. The Far Away Friend: This one’s a three-parter: A. As we age, our friends begin to move away. Don’t forget about these people! They are just as important to you as the ones around the corner (in theory). My ho’s in different area codes consist of Vancouver, Los Angeles, Honolulu, San Diego, New Orleans, New York, Washington DC and Chicago. Just because I can’t go grab a drink with them AT WILL doesn’t mean that I should just store them in the back of my brain. Here’s a thought: if you’re not a phone person, get a legitimate e-mail or use Facebook Messenger. Keep in contact with them, ask them about their lives. Maybe you don’t need to talk every day, but keep a thread going. Chances are, you’ll almost feel more personally connected with the individuals because you’re actually discussing things that matter versus the weather or work irritants from 9AM that day, and they will feel a tad bit honored you are still making time and effort to keep the connection. B. When you are the friend that lives far away, you need to keep one thing in mind: The world does not stop when you leave. Your friends lives tick on. Just because you HAVE moved away, doesn’t mean when you abruptly come home, people’s lives stop for you. People have other things going on, and you’re going to have to get used to the fact that if someone’s too busy and you didn’t give them ample time to prepare to spend time with you, something that they haven’t calculated into their normal day-to-day activities, you are NOT ALLOWED TO GET MAD. Set some time up, preferably near two weeks in advance, if you can help it, longer, if you know some friends plan farther out. Say, “Hey, I’m potentially going to be around the weekend of (x date). Please keep that in mind so I can see you. You will have better success and less hurt feelings if you plan ahead. C. If you’ve moved far away, chances are, you did it for a reason: to create a better living situation for yourself. Yes, your life might be pretty damn near perfect now because of the move you’ve made. If it is, congratulations! I’m so happy for you. It doesn’t mean that everyone else’s lives haven’t moved on, and it doesn’t mean that because they maybe haven’t changed locations that they haven’t CHANGED inside. I had one friend come home and basically tell everyone else that because they haven’t moved away, they haven’t grown up. At all. That we were all the same. And though most of everyone rolled with it, they were secretly frustrated with said individual. I’m glad you’ve had a life changing experience, but we’re not the same kids we were in high school. Just because we do live in our hometown still, doesn’t mean we’ve not grown as people. I understand finding yourself takes some time, and it’s kinda like rumspriga: you go out into the world, you see different things, and learn the ways of the people. Then you decide whether you are to return home to resume your life, or you’re going live someplace else. Don’t try and make everyone else feel like their lives aren’t anything interesting just because they made different choices than you. 4. The friend that gets possessive of other friends: “But that’s my friend. Why are they hanging out with MY FRIEND?” I cannot tell you HOW-IRRITATED-THIS-MAKES-ME! I have always been a friend that has let other people amoeba their ways in and out of my group. And I’ve heard it, MANY A TIME come from the very people I’ve let in. Side Story: I had a core group of friends in high school. We still have maintained a tight nit group. The class of 2007-ers that I spent my time with were, and mostly still are my best friends. After we graduated, some fell out. From this point, we added some new people, including some 2006ers, 2008ers, and as we aged even higher, the sibling& pals of some of the 2006ers – the “oh tens.” Groups from different schools, friends of friends, ect. ect. That’s how friends are made. Networking. You branch out. My closest friends now are a cousin of a 2007er, a couple 2006ers & 07ers, a 32 year old who hails from Boston, and friends scattered around the U.S. (and it’s islands [Honolulu Cassandra, respectively]). I’ve reconnected with some old friends who I used to spend time with in middle school/high school moved away to places like New York City, and Washington DC. Now I will be bold and say this: some of the friends I have now would NOT be friends with the people they are now if I were nearly as possessive as some of them are. I don’t care if you’re friends with my friends. If you hit it off with someone, GO RIGHT AHEAD and get their phone number. Spend time without me. Go visit them. Get close to them! It doesn’t irk me in the slightest. Don’t act like your friends are your property. Sorry if you think that you have some claim on them, but your peeps are not trophies, trading cards, or JUST YOURS ONLY. 5. Tell The Truth, but tell it Kindly: This one’s the hardest, only because people mistake telling the truth as being abrasive. If there’s something that you honestly feel you need to say, don’t take the blunt and slashy road. I get that being a “truth teller” is sometimes a hard path, because potentially the thing you need to say the most is going to most likely hurt someone’s feelings. The best way to go about this is “Hey _________, we need to talk. This isn’t the easiest thing for me to say, but I feel I have to say it. Please hear me out and don’t interrupt me in the process. I will say my piece, and then you may say yours. This is what is bothering me _____________________________ and these points A, B, and C ___________________________ are why I felt the need to bring it up. I’m sorry if this does hurt you or your feelings, but we need to discuss it because it’s effecting ________________ (Our friendship, your way of life, hurting others around you, ect). These are just a few notes, there are bound to be many other situations under many many moons that will be a part of your interactions with people. These are just a few common ones I’ve noticed throughout the years. Keep them in mind when you’re with your pals. :) -DETamie

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What If You Were Homeless?

A few years ago, I started my first freshman English class. My teacher, the hard ass of the English department, began the class with us saying our names, along with a “funny memory.” This ass wipe, someone I’d gone to school with since I was in first grade, began with talking about his funny memory: the time his dad pretended to hand some money to a homeless man near the 8 Mile junction to Detroit, and then jerked it back when he reached, laughed at him, and drove away. I was so infuriated and disgusted. Some students laughed, and I began a public debate on it. He and I went back and forth, and he said, “If someone’s on the street, they deserve it. Stupid bums. Go get a job.” After a few choice words flying from my freshman mouth, I left the classroom, dismissing myself to the counselors office to switch my class. The student I argued with never got reprimanded, and I landed a better teacher in the trade off.  Fast forward to now. I’m on the cusp of 25, and I’m standing in my co-workers cube. He’s up north for the weekend, and someone planted a sign in his cube. We work near gas stations, so chances are this sign was on the corner, and it was picked up and delivered on the way back from one of the techs. 

One of the admins had walked me into one of the field guy's cube to show me, thinking it was funny. I stood there, sort of mouth gaped at it, and she’s laughing. I can’t help but feel sad that someone would even have to make a sign like this, if it is even true. Then the other co-worker in the next cube over says, “Yeah, nice sign huh? Pretty funny. What if they came back for the sign? Now he’s poor and they stole his sign.” He chuckles.  Now mind you, as a normal, non-malice filled human being from the outer edges of suburbia close to Detroit, homeless people don’t particularly phase me. I’m used to seeing them here and there. I also have had many encounters, from the days I smoked cigarettes outside venues waiting for concerts, “bums looking for a bum,” to the gentleman who told me to follow my dream that washed my windows.  I know that sometimes people aren’t homeless when they stand outside either. My mom’s boyfriend of 9 or so years used to buy food at the grocery store and bring it to the people at this 8 Mile freeway junction, that way if they were trying to just score cash, they wouldn’t profit in that fashion. Most of the time though, it was a mom with children, who maybe wasn’t entirely homeless, but definitely was in need. I’ve seen people huddling under the overpasses, people with no homes in wheelchairs. Some notations from Charlie LeDuff’s book “Detroit: An American Autopsy” talking about men encased in ice for months long dead, and men who had no home, but in their heart and with friends they never considered themselves homeless. Just recently, two men, James Van Horn and another known as Dreadlock Mike were involved in a hit and run, and were killed. Van Horn was known as the “Eat ‘Em Up Tigers” guy, and has and will be an unofficial symbol of the Tigers baseball spirit. Dreadlock Mike was also well known, mostly by his look of being an amputee in a wheelchair, spending time in local areas with high volumes of people. The sad part is, even though there was a public outcry of affection for these men, not much has been done since. 

I hear it all the time. “Don’t give that guy money, he’s probably just going to use it for drugs.” “ Homeless people scare me, you never know how they are going to react. They might rob you.” I’ve seen homeless people curled up on the street next to a warm vent. But does that make them less of a person? Because they don’t have a home to go back to? A roof over their head. It’s probably very humbling, having to cuddle up to a sewer. Pretty humbling to ask for money from strangers, too. But I bet they do what they have to. Sure, there’s soup kitchens. Maybe even a place to squat every so often. Can you imagine though? Those people going “go get a job, ya bum.” Try getting the city grime off of your skin after months, let alone years, being homeless. If you showed up to work and you had not showered, had not washed your clothes, you’d get sent home, right? And with the fast food industry hoping that they can strike for a liveable wage, anyone without enough education is not going to get enough to buy a place to live.  The worst is the men who hand out the flags, the ones with signs that say “disabled veteran, homeless.” Whether it’s true or not, and many people would beg to differ that some of these people are even homeless, but they are still people. Put yourself in their shoes for a minute and try to think how you would feel. 

To me, if I would have to stand on a corner, multiple corners, didn’t have a home to go to, and didn’t have much of anything, I’d be pretty humble and feel pretty small. I guess my point here is covered by Dr. Seuss. “A person is a person, no matter how small.” The next time you see someone homeless, try and do one thing: Don’t judge. You don’t know their situation, you don’t know their struggles, and even though you may have a job, a nice car, and might just think you’re better than them because of all that you have, the thing you lack by snickering at someone less fortunate than yourself makes you a poor person. 

-DETamie

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Some of the best decisions I ever made were the impulsive ones.

I can honestly say that in life, I hold myself back a whole lot more than I should, especially in two avenues: money & love. Money: This, predominately stems from having to be extra cautious and not making a mistake for the sake of my living situation. I don't take as many chances when it comes to spending money, but I've decided this is going to stop. After being held down for quite some time, I've decided to take the chance. I'm going to New York and Boston in the fall. It's a trip I cannot necessarily afford but I need some new perspective on life, something other than Detroit. These are two places I've wanted to go for many years and as I've gotten closer to 25, I've decided it's time to take that leap. I've also applied to college, even though I don't have a way to pay for it except student loans. Yes, I'll be in debt for awhile. Most people have told me to avoid this. After 52 credits already underneath my belt and many years establishing this with not a single student loan, I do believe its time for me to lurch forward into the next stage of my life. A new perspective and a step toward my new life and my dream. Love: This is more of a retrospective thought. I found that I've spent most of my life (surprisingly) being shy. I don't say when I have feelings and I hold it back. Then one day, someone stepped forward to me and just made an off the cuff flirtation, and I barreled in, head first, into something I had never experienced before. I found later on, even after he had closed that chapter with me, it taught me a valuable lesson: don't hold back. I left one night, wanting more, and I never got to kiss him again. I regretted not turning around, not having one more private moment. I regretted long before anything transpired, not spending time with him at the cost of someone else's notions. That there was a draw toward a person and I didn't take the leap because irrational feelings from a bystander would have gotten in the way. But further more and fast forward, the next time I had a gut feeling about a different person, I didn't stand and wait. Even though this guy didn't realize I was even remotely interested in him, he went to leave the bar being that it was loud and wasn't his scene. It took me about 30 seconds to realize the only reason I drove a half hour to hang out with these people was to see him - I bolted out of the bar after him and spent another 45 minutes at a fast food joint, just talking. Nothing ever happened with him, but in that thirty second thought process of my "do I stay or do I go," I thought back to the moment I didn't chase after that guy I cared so much for. I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice and think "man, I should have turned around." Even though I could have been just another random mutual friend to this guy I spent chattering on about cartoons to for a good almost hour, I was glad I did it because I had learned - even in a foolish moment where I probably looked crazy for jogging though the streets of Ann Arbor trying to catch up with him (very similar to Silver Linings Playbook). Sometimes you just have to take chances. It's a scary thing - being uncalculated and unstable. Not knowing what's going to happen next or how to prevent getting hurt after being hurt before. How to handle your finances responsibly but making sure you make the most out of life - even if that means screwing over your name account once in a while. Since I was 16, I've been cautiously trying to live my life. No more tragedies. At 18, I spent time learning to be an adult when I should have been gripping onto my adolescent years. At 20, I found myself in a club, pouring a Red Bull over my best friends head because I felt for him and he never felt for me. And at 24, I finally opened up again. I can't say I'm perfect - I'm perfectly flawed. This I know to be a fact. But being on the cusp of 25, let alone any age, all you can do is rediscover what it's like to be you. Where you forgot yourself, and how to find yourself again. Take those risks, make an ass out of yourself. Have a story to tell when it's all finished. You know it will be a damn good one. -DETamie

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10 months and a handful of days.

We change. As people, we grow. Our personalities twist, our character configures, even our morals and values sometimes turn a complete 180 (sometimes even a complete 360 depending on what the value is and the length of the time frame). Sometimes, we don't even see the changes until we reflect on the days gone by, and on the other hand at times we can feel the change as it happens. Sometimes we make choices that we know will force change, or they are choices caused by change.

I have embodied all of these changes. In the last two years alone I have evolved (and de-evolved, un-evolved?) so much. I planned the change. I mean I didn't sit there with a calendar and pencil in what dates I would accomplish what, but I knew with a serious of very calculated (yea, not really calculated at all) choices I would be forcing change. Oh how I needed it. The journey was a steep climb, a steep climb with several pitfalls between each step, but I have to say that I love the person I've become, and I regret nothing that has happened in between. I moved on whim. The glass floor that was holding up my life shattered beneath my feet and I ran. I chose a place that I thought could support my rebirth based on the fact that if I got too scared I could take a 4 hour bus home and be fine, I chose Chicago. It was close to home and it came with what I thought was a support system. I was wrong about the latter but each person has to go through their own journey, sometimes parts of the journey on their own. Moving here was the best choice I think I'll ever make.

My first year out here I lived the only way I though I knew how, I partied too much, hung out with some questionable people, did some very questionable things, but in that first year I made some of the best friends I've ever had. I was able to be anyone I wanted to be with these new people, and I was everyone. I was the other woman, I was the girl with the iron liver, I was the chick who'd walk into a bar with my trusty sidekick and leave a few hours later accompanied by a hipster boy, or two. I was on top of the world, but I was also the girl who had finally learned to cry, I was also the girl who would go days on end without anything to eat but for a fifth of jameson and some greasy bar food, I'd wake up each morning (or afternoon) feeling empty, sometimes ashamed of how I had acted. I felt the consequences and the repercussions of my actions like I never had before, I was "living the dream" but also reaping the nightmarish rewards. Then shortly before my one year anniversary in my new home my seemingly perfect glass life shattered around me again, and the situation I found myself in propelled my next series of changes, and with good reason. It finally hit me that I had to stand on my own and start facing the music. I was hiding behind all the negativity and angst that I had been feeling for years. I was making excuses for my behavior by saying I was owed something. I was wrong. 

I just wrapped up with my second year in the city, and its been amazing. Better than I could ever have hoped for. The first few months were rocky, I cut back on my partying, cleaned up my act, and even started dating. I could be found at home at night instead of the bar, I suddenly had money again instead of always being broke, I had roommates that I felt comfortable being around, that didn't add to my self destructive criticisms and negative self worth. Then, I met Nathan. To love, and be loved. That really is the greatest gift of all. Through this love I have felt and been shown a world I previously could not imagine. A world of Christmas eve dinners on the floor in front of a (albeit fake, thank you netflix) fireplace. A world of daily adventures in my big beautiful city. Most importantly? A world where suddenly I've started to plan for the future again.

What will year three bring? I'm not quite sure, but I'm hopeful. Chicago has outdone itself with the magic and wonder its showered on my life. It changed me and my perspective in ways I thought were not possible. I thought I was damaged forever, I thought I had no way out of a perpetual self destructive cycle that would always destroy my dreams. Does Chicago have nothing left to teach me? No, there will always be something left to learn, however in order to save some of the Chicago magic, I've made a choice. A choice to change once again, a choice to face the past and the future at once. Though I should say WE have made a choice. Alright Chicago, you have 10 months and a handful of days left to teach me and mold me anyway you haven't yet. Anything can happen in 10 months. Then its time to move on. Its time to go home. 

[latrodectus-blog]

Mixed EM-otions on "Berzerk"

“Did you listen to Em’s new jam?” As a Detroiter, I see a lot of “We’re airing Eminem’s new song at (X) time! Check it out!” I was going to try and catch it on the radio, but I got up too late for one of 89x’s designated times.  So, after being reminded at 11am, I pulled it up.

  Thoughts:

1. Right away, you can tell this is a Rick Rubin track. The beginning has awkward reminiscence of “Paul Revere” from Beastie Boys. The beginning rap has the same strange flow.

2. Whether Shady was attempting to do a throwback track or not, the song is a little cluttered. There’s a lot of background noise between classic rock tracks in the background in the chorus that makes it a little hard to follow/understand.

3. Em’s accents are all over the place. Not exactly sure what he was trying to accomplish, but it floats between a Beastie to something that sounds like him trying to imitate Snoop Dogg.

4. He’s never been one to try and make a party track. So this is sort of interesting, because it echoes things like “let your hair down,” and getting the party started.

5. The sad realization that there’s someone with a deep voice looped in the background that’s supposed to sound similar to Nate Dogg. Rest in Peace.

6. Despite the cussing here and there, this will most likely end up in promos for NFL season.

  Needless to say, with the few things, it’s still a decent track, as far as music has been lately. I’m a little disappointed, just because Recovery, Em’s last CD was a lot more of what we expected from the rap caliber he is – but maybe that’s the point. Not what you expected is probably what he was going for. Why? Eminem doesn’t give a fuck.

To check out the track, click here to be routed to YouTube for "Berzerk"

  Your thoughts? Hit us up on our Facebook page to discuss!

-DETamie

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Memory Foam Mementos.

Born under a sign that has a tortured mind, I run towards the sun with all these things behind. I crave so many things it seems, always something I desire. I want to be so much more than what is often in my path. You can say that your entitled and you deserve these things, but you don't. You have to work for them, not just wait for fate to intervene. Lazy gets you nowhere, so don't hate the ones who "have," for they have put in the time to achieve whatever it is you seek. Love is the only exception to this rule, for you can't blast through time, working hard for them to come to you. It's the only thing fate can control, it's the only stance you always seek, but yet to find. You may search forever, but it will come in time. You may never know until the moment it hits, and it could be something fresh or something you chose to never see before. At night these thoughts caress me, the prospect of the unknown. What will I find tomorrow? Will I succeed in my struggle? Will I meet someone who loves me, someone I can give all of myself to in the end? Will life be perfect? Never, but you can come pretty close. Just don't sit idly by, because things never come to those who are stagnant. They come to those who prove to the universe: "I can handle it. I am ready."

[latrodectus-blog]

Ben Affleck, Oz and Other Magical Things

First of all, everyone chill out about the Ben Affleck situation. Unless you can honestly say you actually care about super hero movies, please stop talking. I feel as if I’m being assaulted by 10 year old “Daredevil” rocks. Get over it and go watch “The Town.” Now that I’ve addressed the pretentious “I know everything about every movie, every actor, and how the actor is going perform before the movie is made” attitude, we can move onto bigger and better things. Oz. Our puppy child arrives today. To say that David and I are excited, would be an understatement. We are ecstatic. Our beautiful boy is a 2-3 year old flat coated retriever/border collie mix. He is arriving from a high-kill shelter in South Carolina. The poor pup has to travel with way too many of his k-9 buddies, and not nearly enough potty breaks, if any. He has been in shelter for over a month now so we are getting really antsy to spoil him with baths, treats, yummy food and lots of attention. I’ve had quite a few “are-we-sure-we-are-ready-for-this” conversations with David and his attitude has remained consistent. I am much more of a dreamer. I love the thought of making big plans and committing but when it becomes time, I get nervous. In the past I’ve said it and I will say it again, I am bad at change. I know how much work he’ll be and how it will change our travel plans, but I also know how much joy he’ll bring to my heart. It is definitely worth it. It’s just scary thinking through the logistics. Commitment is hard. You want it to always feel 100% right. I can tell you, because I have committed to many, many things in my life, it usually doesn’t feel 100% right. That’s okay. There are always fears and big “What ifs.” That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. Weigh out the pros and cons and make an informed decision. That is why I don’t like the saying “listen to your heart/gut.” That is horrible advice. Listen to your brain. Your brain knows the facts and tells the truth, your heart can fool you and it often does. Decisions made with the heart are often regretted in the long run. As hard as it is, sometimes it’s important to say, “I know how much I desire this, but the timing/situation isn’t right.” We’ve said that over and over again in our search for a dog (before our engagement, in our old apartment, when looking at young puppies, etc.). David proposed to me with a stuffed animal German Shepherd because he knew my dream engagement involved a puppy. If he had went with his/my heart and bought a puppy we wouldn’t have been ready. I am thankful that I married a man who contemplates the logistics before making huge decisions. We make a good match. With that said, OZ ARRIVES IN LESS THAN SIX HOURS! Be well.

[latrodectus-blog]

Red Bull Gives You Rage

My personal Instagram bio says "caffeine addict." And I am. I wrote a piece about caffeine before, I think I've mentioned it, a speech I did in college about my addiction problem. Recently, I had decreased my caffeine intake so I wasn't dependent on it. It got to the point I was having terrible sleeping patterns, and was dependent on it for every day life. Now, I haven't had legitimate espresso in quite some time, and if I absolutely want and need coffee, I do half decaf and half regular so I don't overdo it.

  This past weekend I was the main photographer at a wedding. I needed to be up north by 9am so I began driving at 6AM - with a normal regular cup of coffee. I stopped at 7-11 and bought a four pack of Red Bull because I knew good and well there was no way I was going to make it till midnight without doping. I did not have any issues, and drank 3 out of 4 of the Red Bulls and finished my coffee in the course of that time span. Yes, I know this is bad for me. But I survived. Now, it's been a week. I had one half caffeine/decaf coffee and that's it - until this morning I gave in and got a Red Bull.

  I've made jokes before and I have been my own test subject over multiple time gaps but I've determined a solid fact: Red Bull gives you RAGE. Even on coffee, and months go by and then I have some, and I find myself to be irritable and irate. Things set me off way more than usual while drinking this stuff. I don't know if it's a matter of energy not being expelled fast enough, but just a few minutes ago, I sent out a very firm but pissed e-mail to our corporate office about one of our subcontractors. As I'm writing this now, my body is sort of antsy and jittering. Almost SHAKING.

  This may not be important to anyone else - but there's something to be said about a simple soft drink being able to alter the behavior of a person. Sure, I'm normally sarcastic and a little blunt most of the time, but this stuff makes me MEAN. Actually somewhat sinister. That can't be good for anyone. Being that it's happened multiple times, I thought I would share it - don't want anyone mistaking rage for wings.

-DETamie

[latrodectus-blog]

Tough Cookies Still Can Crumble.

There's a special thing people need to know about what they like to call "strong people." These people, typically, have been through things that a normal person of a cushioned lifestyle would not know how to react to. And despite their adversity, they have managed to not end up in a psych ward. Which is all fine and dandy, not to mention slightly commendable. But being called "strong" is a double edged sword. Reason being, once people mark you in their minds as being "strong," they forget that you can still experience hurt. They are harder on you - maybe not even intentionally, because you're not a frail or delicate individual. They think your thick skin warrants them to be a little rougher with you, because you're that "tough cookie." You could be experiencing something that someone else is, and they will help the other with more compassion because that person simply "can't handle" it as well as you. I want to let you know, it takes it's toll. I've spent countless years hearing people tell me what I can handle. I've had people take things out on me, both intentionally and unintentionally. And most importantly, I've had people lack compassion when things happen because it's not something I haven't dealt with, or it's a repeat offense of pain. When things happen, and you need a shoulder to cry on, it's that much harder when people believe you're strong enough to handle it and just let you go on your way with that sack of pain taking you down. Sometimes even the strongest people need to cry about the dumbest things. And sometimes the most armed and hardened individual needs someone to just hug them and tell them it's going to be okay. Because despite that very thick skin, the insides still feel the sting - and everyone, no matter how tough they are, can use a helping hand and someone to care about them.

[latrodectus-blog]

Weddings & Pintrest: I Approve!

(Originally posted on A.C00P Photo&Design's Tumblr)

A buddy of mine and fellow photographer posted an article from PetaPixel in regards to Weddings and Pintrest – in the light of how it ruins the creative process of the shooter. Let me start by saying I HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH PINTREST. [For those who don’t know, Pintrest is a site that has pictures and links for many things from nerdage, to photography, to travel tips, and many more creative and informational tips. You can “Pin” these ideas to a thing called a “Pintrest Board” to group them together.] I know some photographers will behave in the “I think I’m way more artistic than you and ‘Pintrest Photographers’ make my blood boil” fashion and will disagree with that statement and call me a fool, but when it comes to WEDDINGS, I find a Wedding Photography Pintrest board to be an asset. The article, entitled “How Pinterest Can Discourage the Creative Process for Photographers” starts to cite the usefulness of the tools, mainly that it helps the bride create the mental image of the wedding on all avenues, from color scheme to venues. It gives great ideas, and it does help narrow down what they wish to see, especially in the avenue of photos. Then it takes a turn and starts referencing the frustration that comes with a person wanting to replicate images and that it emotionally damages the ideas the photographer, and also makes them feel insecure about their final product. I find this to be pretty bogus. The only identifiable problem I have seen is when a Bride models her photography off of other previously shot photos by different studios, when the bride receives their photos, sometimes they are not identical, and they get frustrated or feel unsatisfied. Reason being, every photographer is different (for one) and for two, all the factors going into the shot are not always the same. This is completely understandable (and also unavoidable if you play your cards right) – but just for elaboration’s sake, here’s why:

Settings:

Say for example, you’re in the countryside. You have a lot of background to work with. Say there’s water, and trees, and fields and beaches, and old & rustic barn doors. The sun is shining with just enough cloud cover that solar flares at a minimum and still creating a gorgeous glow. That’s going to lay a beautiful back drop for what you’re going to be working with. Now, in contrast, say you’re in the suburbs. It’s a gray day, maybe even sprinkly rain is in the mixture. The church is in a less than flattering area where there’s not much nature, nor is there any industrial back drop to make it look at least sort-of cool and intentional. You don’t have much time to go on a long adventure with your bride and groom, and if you’ve got to head more than fifteen minutes away from the site of the reception to get the shots you want, you’re going to run into time restriction issues. In contrast to that picturesque countryside, you’re going to end up with VERY different pictures. When establishing what kind of photography they would like for their wedding, make sure the Bride and Groom take that into consideration way ahead of time. Ethics: 

Say your Bride comes to you and says “this is what I want.” As a photographer, you’re supposed to try your very best to make that happen with the tools and locations you have. Key point: WITH THE TOOLS AND LOCATONS YOU HAVE. If you’re given strict assignments, like for example “You have an hour and a half for photos after the ceremony. You must take photos of X amount of people, within that time frame, and leave aside more time for the Bride and Groom to get pictures together in another designated location.” You abide by that as best as you can. If you’re not given ample amount of time, you work with what you have. Tip for future photogs – sit down with your bride and say “how much time do I have to work with?” This is going to save a lot of time and heartache later – and make sure that they know that catastrophes such as prolonged start times for the ceremony itself will not be your fault if it cuts into your photo time. You must work with what you have, and meet deadlines set by their schedule. Also, I very much insist you get a list of who’s being photographed and use it during the time to check them off piece by piece, so you don’t forget anyone and you have your bases covered. You are there to work with what you have, so make sure you have MORE than you need. 

Taking these two things into consideration, Pintrest can be a gift and a curse. 

Gifts – Some fabulous shots taken by other photographers can give another photographer inspiration/help them create something they haven’t before:

As you all know, I’m a small operation. Small operation being me, my camera, and my equipment. I don’t have assistants. I don’t have accountants. I don’t have a million other things factoring into what I do. I just do it, and enjoy doing it. So if my Bride comes to me and says “Hey, I really like this shot, can we try this?” I will attempt it to the best of my ability, along with not being insulted (Photographer egos are another post I’d like to do at another time, as I feel this article I read was an emotional problem more than a legitimate one). Be sure though, that your Bride knows the facts: Sometimes the shot can’t be identical. You can attempt it, and do your very best, but sometimes it doesn’t always work. In my particular case, sometimes it does. Below is an example of my Pintrest experience with my most recent Bride & Groom for their engagement photos. The Bride told me about her Pintrest board (we’re also friends in real life) and she said “I’d like to attempt some of these.” She kept an open mind, and with a bit of creativity (and a lot of snow in our boots) here we are (First Shot Pintrest, Second Shot A.C00P):

Side note: ours was better, eat your… heart…. out :) 

Curses – If a Bride comes to you with a full on print out of her entire wedding Pintrest board and says “I want every single shot, identical on here.”: Now, that’s insane, and probably sounds pretty Bridezilla-ish, right? Chances are, it’ happened to someone. But the bottom line? You, as a photographer need to communicate with your Bride. “This can be taken into consideration but is not a realistic request to replicate every photo and here’s why.” They hired you initially because they like YOUR work. They need to remember that, and you need to be as tactful and kind as possible to remind them of that and not radiate any cocky behavior (egos again!). Your “creativity and judgment is not being insulted” by their request to copy the board, but remind them that you have your own style and ideas and you will do your best to make their wedding what they want it to be, as best as you possibly can, with using your talent, AND some ideas they like. Remember, it is their day, not yours. And in turn, your client will need to remember the reality of the situation: They only have so much time with you – and in a chaotic moment such as a “messy suite while getting ready” isn’t going to create the same image as the “made bed, crisp sheets, done up Bride in a calm state holding a bouquet with full makeup and gorgeous hair.” (See photo in article).

The thing I took from this article, though (despite its emotional undertones) is something important. Being that it is the “Bride and Groom’s Day” – they need to remember one simple thing: be them. Do you want to re-create a photo identically from someone else’s wedding? Or would you like to build your own ideas based on the things you’ve seen and make the photo your own? Make it special, make it unique, and most of all, make it you. There’s nothing worse than getting back your photos and realizing they don’t depict you as a couple.

Weddings are stressful enough – you want to remember why you’re doing it in the end when you see those photos. And that’s what I’m here for – to capture that for you. -DETamie

[latrodectus-blog]

Don't Fuck Around With Rape

Recently a few women that I care a great deal about have shared some things with me that, while I’m so grateful that they shared at all, has broken my heart and simultaneously made my skin crawl. 

There is nothing more heinous in this world to me than rape.

I’m sure many people will second me on that, but what really gets me is just how much rape varies. It isn’t always a strange man in an alley with a knife in his coat pocket. It can be a friend, a boyfriend, a husband. It can be once or repeating. It can be intentional or oblivious. Some women hold onto their secret for thirty years, others need an outsider to help them realize exactly what just happened. Either way, the result is the same: a woman had sex against her will and she is forever changed because of it.

If you know me at all, you know I’m a self-proclaimed feminist. For me, feminism isn’t about women having power over men. I think that viewpoint is just as harmful to society as men having power over women. What I try to advocate is gender equality…and sometimes that’s interpreted as a girl power, pro she-male, domination-of-all-with-penises kind of mentality. It sucks that my opinions have been skewed, even mocked at times, but it’s worth it. When a friend comes to me saying she should have done more to stop him, I can tell her with every fiber of my being, she did.

It’s never the victim’s fault. Never.

I’ve heard women inadvertently defend their attacker. They say, “I was wearing a really short skirt…,” or, “We’ve always been kinda flirty with each other...”

Well, you’re wrong. Plain and simple: if you had sex against your will, you were raped and you did nothing to deserve it. People talk complete and utter bullshit about what women wear and the type of “message” they’re projecting. Really? What about the message she projects with her voice? To me, that’s probably a bit more important.

Guys, it’s pretty easy to tell if a girl wants to have sex with you. One sure fire way to know is to ask. Ask her if what you’re doing is okay and if she starts crying during sex, stop what you’re doing – even if she doesn’t tell you to stop. This is part of being a respectful human being and has very little to do with the act of sex. And if she does tell you to stop, well then stopping would be a good idea. It doesn’t matter if you’ve slept together in the past, every time is a new time with a new emotion and a new consequence. If you can’t handle that concept then for the love of god, please stop having sex.

Girls, I wholeheartedly believe that someday we’ll be able to walk home at night confidently without clutching mace in our hands and without being called “baby” by every drunk asshole on the streets. Until then, never second guess yourself; if you’re being yourself, you’re doing something right. 

[latrodectus-blog]

From Groped to Crazy and Violent

Double standard: they have been around forever and probably aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. Dads (and moms) who will congratulate their sons for scoring dates with girls but threaten guys that their daughters date. Parents who will give their sons condoms so they can get laid but tell their daughter she should “wait for marriage.” Society that looks at a woman as a whore if she has too many lovers and look at guys with admiration when he has a new girl every night. Basically men can be promiscuous tramps but women cannot without suffering social repercussions. This double standard is also seen in the gym – men who need to lift weight but once a woman touches a weight deemed to give her man muscles, she now is “Roid Woman” or some other insult that would never be said to a man. But on the flip side, men have a double standard as well, mostly as boys. If they pick up a toy that is catered toward girls or have an interest in ballet then they must be gay and showing “early signs” of it. People are judged by the double standards that our society has carried with us for years. I’m pretty sure they stem off the idea that men go to work and do manly things and women are supposed to be virgins when they get married. And once a woman gets married she is supposed to be barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen cooking her man a meal when he gets home from his long, tiring day at work. Well, this stereotype of a relationship has definitely changed over the years, but the idea that men are stronger and do manly things and women are weaker and do womanly things has not changed much. And if you dare to speak out against the double standard, or stand up for yourself, you run the risk of getting called crazy. It’s that idea that if a woman dresses provocatively, she is asking to be touched by the men around her. And if she retaliates against the man who touched her (i.e. punching them) she is deemed crazy by her peers. I say this because it happened to me. Flashback two years ago, I was at a Halloween party in Novi. It was a massive event – thousands of people there. I was dressed in a Victoria’s Secret cheetah print corset (meant to be worn for your lover), a black pair of shorts and black lace stockings. I topped the cat costume off with cat ears and a cat tail. Yes, it was not the most original costume but I wasn’t going for originality; I was going for sexy. I was walking through the crowd when a tall, drunk man decided that he was allowed (I guess I had Grope Me written on my forehead, or my ass) to feel up and down, with two hands, starting from my chest to my ass. Well, I don’t like being touched so I bunched up my fist, hauled back and punched him straight in the stomach. I yelled some few choice words at him and walked away. The look on his face was just shock and I felt pretty good about myself. Flash-forward to now. Just recently I went to a club to hang out with some of my friends. I got to talking to one of the bouncers. The story of me punching a guy got brought up. My friend that was with me that night thought it was funny and decided to share it. The bouncer, after hearing the whole story, called me crazy, told me he was glad I wouldn’t teach his children one day because I was mean and then when a guy tried to talk to me, the bouncer proceeded to tell the man I was violent and crazy and should stay away. I was deemed the crazy girl because I punched a guy who basically got a cheap feel off me. I got handed the social ramifications of daring to lash out against the standard that women who are dressed provocatively deserve to get groped. Newsflash men, a woman can dress in as much or a little as she wants and that DOES NOT give you the right to touch her. Some women don’t fight back but some do. I will take being the crazy, violent girl in a club that stands up for herself over being the one who ignores the wandering male hands any day.