Party Goblin Gone Bad

Party Goblin Gone Bad

I’ve recently had somewhat of a mental breakdown. An alcoholic breakdown. I’ve stopped working out and doing yoga and going to the gym due to my long, strenuous work schedule. And the only other way that I have found in the meantime is to drink my stress away. It started out with just a beer or two after work which I think is pretty normal. But then it escalated in to drinking a beer or two before I go to work and feeling the need to be tipsy to even be there to deal with the stress.

I’ve been working 7 days a week and 10-14 hours a day. I’ve become so focused on work and getting everything done–putting other people’s needs before mine–and therefore eventually cracking from the inside.

I was invited to a wedding reception of a girl that I work with. My boyfriend, co-worker and I all decided to go together but we wanted to have a drink first. So my boyfriend and I went over to my co-workers house and we had a drink … which turned in to another drink … and then a shot as well. We then got an uber and went to the reception where we had more drinks.

Most of the reception is blurry in my mind. I don’t remember much because I quickly blacked out. But there is something in my brain, that when I know I am drunk and should stop drinking, that I continue to drink anyway. There’s no sensor that says, “Hey Taylor! It’s time to fucking stop!”. (Everyone has a party goblin inside of them — see the Iliza Shlesinger clip) According to my boyfriend, I was falling over and making a fool of myself. We were unable to find an uber to go home so he called his dad to come get us.

My boyfriend was really angry with me and rightfully so. I had to be at work the next day and face the people that I made myself look like an idiot in front of. I am a manager–I should have my shit together. But I don’t.

So I decided to make a change. I am not going to drink anymore. At all. Since I don’t have that little voice in my head to tell me to stop, I’m just going to stay away from it. I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world to put up with me when I get too drunk and he always stays by my side. But he doesn’t deserve it. He deserves someone who can take care of themselves and someone that he shouldn’t have to worry about.

So here I go.

—A newly sober sloth.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

A Series of Unfortunate Events

I was debating about bringing this up in a blog for a while. I’m not sure if it really holds any strength in the world, but I felt like it was something that I had to share because it’s something that has seriously creeped me out.

I live in Lancaster, PA which is a rapidly growing city in southeast Pennsylvania about an hour from Philly. Lancaster is where I was born and raised and even after moving from Pittsburgh, to Tampa, I always ended up back here. It’s my home. In the last five years, Lancaster has grown in to quite the mini-Philadelphia, all the while being surrounded by farmland and Amish. It’s now an awesome melting pot of culture. All cities have their crime and violence, but ours has been pretty low–for the most part.

I am a banquet event manager in a recently completely remodeled restaurant that is thriving. I love my job. It’s right in the center of the city and is an amazing environment to work in. The loading dock to our restaurant faces a very small alley that a lot of time homeless folks are meandering around. I always enter the restaurant through the loading dock and often see people rooting through the trash or hanging out by the entrance to the park right beside us.

Recently two things have happened in this area that were pretty disturbing. One of our bartenders witnessed someone OD’ing on heroin in the alley way. Thankfully, he responded quickly and called an ambulance but if no one else had been there, someone could have possibly found a dead person behind the restaurant. Terrifying! I know heroin has blown up in the outskirts of Lancaster lately, but this really put it in to perspective. These people have no where else to go and turn to drugs as a release. An escape from their unfortunate reality. I’ve been there, I’ve done it, and it’s absolutely terrifying. I hope the man survived and I also hope it was a wake-up call for him.

As employees, we are lucky enough that our company pays for us all to be able to park in the lot right behind the alley, since parking is pretty hard to find downtown (and somewhat expensive) especially on a Friday night! BUT, the parking garage also turns in to a hideaway for those who have no where else to go.

It was Valentine’s Day this year that I encountered the second event that I feel a need to share. There are seven floors to this parking garage and on this day I had to park on the 5th. As I was walking toward the stairway to go down to the street level, I saw a man standing in the vestibule. He looked dirty and was facing out the glass towards the cars. One of his hands was down around the button of his pants and the other hand was holding a cell phone that he was staring intently at.

At first, I didn’t think much of it and assumed he was just reading a text message on his way down the stairs. But as I got closer, I realized there was a “rubbing” motion going on with the hand near the opening of his pants. He was masturbating in the stairway! I saw the tip! I quickly turned around and went the other way, grabbing the MASE out of my purse. I decided to completely avoid the stairs and and circled around the spiral of cars until I made it to the bottom.

What if he was just waiting for a woman, or even a man, to walk in that stairway vestibule?

I quickly went in to the restaurant and called the police. Unfortunately, by the time they made it there, he was gone.

It’s so scary to me that in this Trump era, that these kind of things are starting to happen in our little town, or anywhere for that matter. It brings back that impending feeling of doom that I was talking about in my previous blog.

If anyone sees anything like the last two events that I wrote about, call the police immediately or call the ambulance if you see someone in trouble. You could be saving a life.

—a very concerned sloth

Strawberry Fudge Bites

Strawberry Fudge Bites

Ok everyone. I am so addicted to these guys, I just felt like I had to share. I got the recipe from Lil’ Sipper but changed it a little because I don’t pay attention to detail. 

I’m calling my version: Strawberry Fudge Bites. And they are somewhat good for you!


1/2 cup chocolate chips (I got lactose free and organic because of my tummy and I probably ended up using a whole cup)

1 heaping teaspoon of coconut oil

1/2 cup Greek yogurt

1 oz. freeze-dried strawberries (I only saw “dried” on my list when at the grocery store, so I messed up and just got dried strawberries. But I still made it work)

  • Melt down chocolate and once it is all melted, add the coconut oil. Stir until it all melts and blends. 
  • Pour the chocolate in to a blender and add the Greek yogurt. Blend until smooth. 
  • Refrigerate the chocolate for about an hour or until it is firm (mine took about two hours)
  • Blend the freeze dried strawberries in blender until they are basically dust. Then you take the chocolate, roll it in to little balls and then roll the balls in the strawberry dust. Since I had regular dried strawberries, I just rolled the blended strawberries in with the chocolate as I made that in to a ball. 
  • Enjoy! Thanks again Lil’ Sipper for sharing this wonderful treat 🙂

—I thought of my strawberry fudge bites the whole time I was doing downward-facing sloth this morning … 

Life Terrors

Life Terrors

I don’t dream very often. Or if I do, I don’t remember my dreams when I wake up. However, the last few nights I have been having some very vivid dreams. I guess they are more like nightmares because I wake up terrified and feel paralyzed from fear. I remember the first dream I had like this, I was pretty young. I believe I was in 7th grade and it was right after 9/11. I didn’t even know what the Twin Towers were when everything went down, I was confused about why it was such a big deal. But I remember everyone’s reactions more than anything. Were were in school when it happened–Ms. Liesman’s science class. At the time, one of the elementary schools in our district was being remodeled so there were about 100 1st-3rd graders that were re-located to our middle school. Ms. Liesman tried as calmly as possible to tell us what happened, but we weren’t allowed to turn on the TV’s or talk about it because the administration didn’t want to scare the little kids. Shortly after that, we were all sent home from school. My mom was still at work when I got home. A good 3-4 hours or so passed until she got home from work and was really able to explain the magnitude that happened earlier that day.

About a week post-9/11, I had he dream. I was outside with another person, I no longer remember who they were. And we were in a farm-type location at night. There were lots of dilapidated barns and sheds. When, suddenly, it looked like comets were crashing out of the sky and hitting the farm. We took refuge under a the roof of a shed, but we could still see people getting hit by the ‘comets’ and dying. I was terrified. It was the first thing that I experienced that made me realize; there are something things that humans have absolutely no control over.

This same feeling resurfaced not too long after when our Grammie took my sister and I to the movie theaters. She always took us to Kendig Square, which was the red-headed stepchild of movie theaters in the area. It was old and dirty, and your feet stuck to the floor when you walked to your seat, but it only cost $2 per person to go see a semi-new movie. And there were never any employees roaming around, so if we went to see a movie and we didn’t like it, she would sneak with us to the theater room right beside it and try out a different one. Anyway, we were there and all the lights were turned off because “Babe: Pig In The City” was in full swing at this point and I found myself wondering … what if someone dropped a bomb on this building right now? We are in complete darkness … we would never know! Everything would just explode and it would happen so fast, we would suddenly be dead and we would have no idea why!

This looming fear of impending doom still follows me in to my late 20’s. What with Trump being president and refugees and other immigrants being shipped out of the country. I had two dreams in the last week that I feel the need to share because even though I don’t know exactly what they mean, they relate a lot to what is going on in the world right now.

The first dream/nightmare was really bizarre and terrifying. I had just parked in the parking garage at work and was starting to leave the garage and head inside. As I was walking downstairs, I noticed that there were homeless refugees hiding in the parking garage along a few parking spaces. After hearing about many scary things happening with homeless people in this garage, I chose to look straight forward and keep walking. But by the time I made it to the exit door, I felt extremely guilty. So I turned around and headed back to my car. Conveniently, I had a bunch of blankets and food in my trunk. So I took everything out and gave it to the refugees. They were very thankful and happily took my donations.

Cut to me sleeping later that night (I know! I was sleeping in my own dream!) and was woken up by our smoke alarm going off downstairs… Ryan didn’t wake up 😛 So I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs, trying to figure out what I was going to do because for whatever reason, we do not own a fire extinguisher (we should probably get one now). When I got to the kitchen, the fire was coming out of the oven and there was a pitchfork stuck in the floor–fork end sticking up– in front of the oven that was quickly becoming engulfed in flames. Sitting beside the pitchfork was one of the refugees and he said that he was doing this to teach me a lesson and that we were going to sit at the dining room table, in the fire, until I realize what a horrible person I was by initially walking past him and his family, when I first saw them in the parking garage earlier that day.

I was woken up, for real, by a thud downstairs. More than likely our cats playing, but the whole dream was so vivid and realistic that I was frozen. I was so scared that I couldn’t move. It was 4:00AM and I couldn’t go back to sleep.

The second dream was a little more hazy and short but still woke me up in complete fear. I was in a dark basement, I don’t know where and I don’t know why. In that basement, there were three cages lined up against the wall. I suddenly hear footsteps coming down the stairs and, believe it or not, it was Donald Trump and he had three women with him, one for each cage. He pushed them in to the cages and when I started to object to him doing this, he told me not to worry. It was ok, he was just putting them in there for a few hours to teach them a lesson. But I knew. I knew he wasn’t just putting them in there to teach them a lesson. Even if that’s all he was doing, it still doesn’t make it ok! I knew he was putting them in there and leaving them there to die. And that’s when I woke up.

Much like the dream I had when I was in middle school, right after 9/11, I can’t stop thinking about these dreams. They are seriously haunting and I wish I knew what they meant. Will the refugees ever be able to live a happy life in this country? Will Donald Trump knock back women’s rights 50 years? It’s things that I, as a single human being, have absolutely no control over–much like the 9/11 attacks. But I do have a voice, which is why I decided to write about this. I, as a single person, may not be able to do a whole lot about these issues just by myself, but we all need to be aware of them as a whole. And as a community–as a country–we can work together to fight against changes that should not happen in the United States. We have come too far as  a country to let “Tiny Trump” send all immigrants back to the countries they originated from after living here for years, or strip away the basic human rights that women fought for, for years (the pussy will grab back).


So stand tall. And even if you only whisper, at least you are saying something. Do not stay silent.

—Even in downward-facing sloth, you can hear me breathing.

Issues Sleeping

Issues Sleeping

My boyfriend and I have been living together for about 2.5 years now and we have acquired two fur-babies during that time. Goose and Squish. We got Goose first from a friend who found two kittens in their backyard. He is all black and probably one of the weirdest cats I’ve ever had. He is afraid of everything! There is a hole in the floor of one of the closets that we haven’t gotten around to fixing and he hides there in the hole the majority of the time.

In an attempt to make him more comfortable, we thought maybe if there is another cat around, it might put him at ease a little bit. So we went to Pet Pantry (much like the Humane League) and we found Squish. Squish ended up being the complete opposite of Goose. She cuddles and is very social and is always downstairs with us. But she has helped Goose come out of his shell a little as well. He is starting to venture away from his hole, down the stairs and hangs out with us … until he hears someone walk by or laugh outside, then it’s back to the hole!

Recently, Goose has started a neurotic schedule with me. He usually sleeps on the end of our bed, which is fine, so I leave our bedroom door open. Around 5:00AM, the witching hour begins and the cats start running around the house like crazy, chasing God knows what. I get up and close the door now, so they don’t come running through our room. Then at approximately 6:00AM, Goose starts meowing outside our bedroom door. When I ignore him, because it’s 6:00AM, he starts clawing under the door. He claws and pulls so hard the whole door shakes and if he can find a loose piece of clothing on the other side, he starts to try and pull it through under the door.

This is when I get up, because I know he wants fed. Which used to make sense because I would fill up their dry food and give them fresh water and also give them some wet food. But they stopped eating the wet food (Why? Because they’re ungrateful bastards) and I don’t need to fill up his food bowl with dry food every morning because they don’t eat that much in one day. So now at 6:00AM, I get up “fill his bowl” and give him fresh water. Then I got back to bed and close the door behind me.

Another hour passes and again at 7:00AM, I am woken up by Goose either pulling a sweater under the door or plucking it with his claws (Mind you, my boyfriend, Ryan sleeps through all of this). So now I officially get up because for some reason, as long as I am out of our bedroom, he stops. It’s like clockwork every morning… 5:00AM, 6:00AM, 7:00AM. It’s like Goose has a little watch that dings every hour so he knows when it is time to wake up mama. I’ve tried everything I can think of to break up this schedule, but it’s not working.

I am writing this in frustration because we just went through this cycle again this morning and I woke up much earlier than I wanted to on my day off work. If there are any cat experts out there, what do I do? How do we break this vicious cycle? Any suggestions are appreciated.

—A very tired sloth.



Just do it.

Just do it.

Today I went to my first yoga class in probably about 4 months. I go to a yoga studio that does hot, power yoga. So its a little more fast paced and the room is heated to 90 degrees. I felt like I wanted to die. But at the end when we went in to shavasana and the instructor handed out chilled towels for everyone, I laid it over my eyes and I felt a sense of calm. I felt like I had destroyed my body, everything was already sore, but I was satisfied. I had used my body for something that not necessarily everyone else can. I twisted and turned in to positions that I would never normally go in to. I felt taller in the end though and stronger  … even though my hammies felt like I couldn’t go up my stairs later in the day!

It felt good to push myself to a limit. And I actually felt more energized for the rest of the day than I normally ever would have. I have a serious addiction to energy drinks. I probably have two sugar free Monster’s every day. But after simply taking one hour out of my day and going to a yoga class, all I wanted was water, and I was more driven and active for the rest of today than I am after I put any kind of caffeine that I put in my body and I only drank water (and two coffees, but still better than energy drinks) all day.

Yoga teaches to appreciate everything. Appreciate what your body can do for you, appreciate the movement, the Ujjayi breath and the ground that is always there to support you. Push yourself to do the more complicated poses because what’s the worst that can happen? You may fall or not be able to do the pose to it’s full extent, but if you keep trying, you will eventually get there and it will most likely happen when you are least expecting it and not being so hard on yourself. Just LET GO! I know this is easier said than done, and I struggle with it every day, but the more that you stop caring and start moving outside of your comfort zone, the more valuable your life will become to you.

This can be applied to everything in life. LET GO. Forget your reservations and just do it. But maybe just slowly at first–like a sloth.

Ga Ga’d

Ga Ga’d

A few nights ago, Lady Gaga gave an incredible performance at The Super Bowl LI Halftime Show. It was almost literally flawless. I was blown away by the performance. Yet, the next day, all over my Facebook feed, I see comments about how Lady GaGa’s stomach flab ruined the show and she should have hit the gym a few more times before hitting the stage. I was flabbergasted!

I’m not going to lie and say that I did not notice it too, but it’s very trivial and her performance was so amazing that it literally didn’t even matter. It makes me sad that people feel the need to make those comments and its comments like that, that make other women (including myself) feel the way they do about their bodies. I mean … seriously. Look at this:


So she’s got a little flab, who cares? Who doesn’t? Does that really give you the right to trash her whole performance? I’d like to see the people who made those comments take their shirts off and dance around on stage in front of millions of people.

But anyway, rant over. I’m just trying to say that this is why women are the way they are. Want to know why we take forever to get ready and are constantly obsessing over our bodies and the way we look? The little belly flab up there is exactly why. The incredible pressure to look Barbie doll perfect will never go away until society lifts women off of this impossible pedestal of what they “should” look like and allows them to be regular people (like men, HA!) with imperfections and flaws.

–My fat rolls when I do downward-facing sloth.