Mari Assad Before You Start- Shut the F*** up. Mon, 05 Nov 2018 09:03:17 -0800 <p>Dear Everyone,</p><p>Ever since I was a child, I have heard the opinions of others about my body. I don’t know why. Every family reunion, birthdays, big social gatherings, people have always felt the need to add a line or two about my physical appearance. Was it necessary? No. Did it shape my way of thinking? Hell yes. Since little Mari could look at herself in the mirror and see her reflection, everyone else's thoughts have crowded her mind.</p><p>I wish I can say that I have successfully broken the cycle, wake up every day loving myself, and flaunting my curves like JLo flaunts her ass (can someone tell me if it’s real?!)… But guess what, I have my insecurities. BOY DO I HAVE THEM. There’s a little demon that creeps in my subconscious, and starts whispering hurtful things. This demon takes all my insecurities and starts listing them off, one after another after another after another…. My legs will never look good in shorts or skirts. My body's sole purpose is for chafing. I don’t have a thigh gap. My stomach is not flat. My butt looks deformed.</p><p>It's terrible. However, I have learned to take that demon and to grab it by the neck and say “Hey, before you start- shut the fuck up. I am a fucking awesome woman who has accomplished so much, and is going to accomplish so much more in my lifetime. And I’m gonna get a disney pass cause I’m a fucking winner.”</p><p>I know, I’m “passionate,” but, it gets the job done. The demon leaves. She's still there, but she is contained by my inner lion (that's what I call my self worth, but I will save that for another blog).</p><p>So you can imagine my horror one Saturday night when someone (yes a man, a moron) made an unwanted comment about my weight. And, just like that, the demon took off. She was running around with scissors in her hand causing chaos in my mind. She began screaming at the top of her lungs, “See, I told you everyone was noticing your pants were a bit more snug! You are gonna have to get back to running...<a href=>Read More</a> Go Travel, dammit. Fri, 11 Aug 2017 16:14:36 -0700 <p>The plane landed, I could hear the clicking of seat belts coming undone, the clicking of people texting on their phones, and the faint clicking of the flight attendants walking up and down the aisles collecting trash. I nudged my friend awake from her nap and we got up, carried our backpacks off the plane and clicked back into civilization.</p><p>I have heard the tales of friends who have gone on far off adventures.... I don't know if Frodo technically counts as a friend but in my heart he is pretty cool. They tell the grand stories of their trip, the weird situations they get into, and the culture clashes from one person to another, and they speak passionately of the land they visited... as if they fell in love. I always wanted to go on a trip like that. I wanted to fall in love with adventure.</p><p>Last summer, I was feeling down (if you do not believe me, read my first blog 'Life is a half baked cake'). I was exhausted and wanted a break. Not sure what kind of break I wanted... but I wanted it. I heard two people speaking about traveling and listing the most affordable places to go. My heart was racing. I believe that if something is meant to happen, life will make it happen. In that moment, I got life's phone call.</p><p>The next day I emailed my best friend with a six paragraph and 16 bullet point explanation about why we needed travel. She lives all the way in Sweden but she was the only one I wanted with me on this trip, and she was going... WHETHER SHE WANTED TO OR NOT!!!!!</p><p>She said yes, and that I didn't need the bullet points.</p><p>People were skeptical when I first told them about my adventure, my parents laughed, and my siblings nodded and said, "do you."</p><p>I did "do me" I did me so hard. I saved up my money, I worked extra shifts and every holiday. Whenever I was tired I told myself, "you can sleep on vacation."</p><p>I had no expectations for Nicaragua. I never had an urge to go to South America... when we decided to go I was a little...<a href=>Read More</a> I did it. I wrote a web series. Thu, 20 Jul 2017 16:18:35 -0700 <p>I did it. I wrote a web series. I wrote it, I starred in it, and I produced it. YES, I AM A GOD. WHERE IS MY OSCAR?</p><p>I was watching an HBO docunmetary, "Americans in Bed" (if you have not seen it it is quite fascinating), it was talking about the different relationships in the United States. One relationship was between a man and a woman, we will call them Larry and Diane, and Larry was discussing all the great things about Diane and the wonderful times they have had together. They were perfect... then it cut to Diane crying. Larry reveals that he is polyamorous, and Diane is not. For anyone who does not know what polyamorous means, "it is the practice or desire for intimate relationships with more than one partner, with all partners knowing".</p><p>Larry is not a bad guy for being polyamorous, however, Diane does not practice polyamory, and it breaks her heart to know that he wants a relationship with more than one woman. When Larry was asked for his reason for not wanting to have a monogamous relationship with Diane, he simply replied that it wasn't fair for him to be with only one woman.</p><p>I got angry.</p><p>It is not fair that we repeatedly see the same type of show... one man to five women. We have a reality TV show (Sister Wives), we have an HBO drama (Big Love), and we have it in every damn romantic comedy or romantic love story (the guy has all these chicks but he doesn't like them cause they are 'too easy' so he needs to find a pretty virgin but she has emotional issues... BLAH BLAH BLAH (it happens so many times that I can't keep count! (Tune in for my next blog and I will count them)).</p><p>I want a new story, you hear me world?! I want a story, nay, a comedy, of a woman leading her herd of men to a white picket fence fairy tale and they obey and do all the dirty dishes, and dust, and clean the bathroom. And they don't complain!</p><p>That is when the idea hit me... Brother Husbands. A Matriarchy! A woman in a polyamorous relationship with...<a href=>Read More</a> Dear Paul Giamatti Mon, 06 Feb 2017 12:51:55 -0800 <p>(For anyone who is new to my blogs, Paul Giamatti is my version of 'The Universe'. Or, God. Kind of like a, "Are you there Paul? it's me, Mari. You were right, tequila is not my friend. My bad." I'm not sure why Paul Giamatti is the man I think of when people say God. For a while, it was Jeff Bridges. Then it was Idris Alba for a little bit... But I'm way too attracted to Idris. It turned into Paul after I saw him play God on <em>Inside Amy Schumer, </em>and it's sticking, so I'm thinking Paul and I are going to be best friends.</p><p>Any way.</p><p>Dear Paul Giamatti,</p><p>You are a jerk face. I need you to send a clearer sign about what I am supposed to do with my life. It needs to be a big neon sign. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING, PAUL. I really thought Ashton Kutcher was going to come out at the Inauguration. And I really thought Rogue One was going to be a good movie. And I really, really thought I was not going to get a stomach ache after eating all that Chicken Alfredo. APPARENTLY NOT. If you wanted me to stop eating, YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING. Step it up, Paul, you're getting lazy. Also, I saw Billions... meh. I'm not that impressed. Not that you're bad, it's just... over all... meh. You know? I understand that this is a weird check in, but, I wanted you to know that even though things are awkward, and I still think you are a good actor, I do think you're kewl (and you know it's real, cause I spelled it wrong).</p><p>Side note, please help me to meet Amy Schumer. I hear you guys are tight. That would be nice.</p><p>Help me make money,</p><p>Mari</p><p>P.S. The cookies in the picture are for you. Only a few. I want one.</p><a href=>Read More</a> 11/8/2016 Mon, 14 Nov 2016 18:45:40 -0800 <h3><p>When asking the Universe for a sign... BE SPECIFIC.</p></h3><p>It has been a while since I have written anything, to my devoted fans (mom and dad), I apologize. I have not felt inspired. I didn't want to give you garbage. I asked the Universe for help. It should be noted I envision the Universe as Paul Giamatti holding a martini, sitting by a kid pool, and eating onion rings. I said, "Hey Universe, thanks for the help with my rash (it's almost gone), helping me make more money, and getting me to talk to that cute guy in my building (turns out he's gay, but he said he might take me to his families Thanksgiving), but I need help to be inspired so I can write something for my blog. My fans (mom and dad) need me!"</p><p>I did not know this is what Paul Giamatti had in mind.</p><p>November 8, 2016 broke my heart. I do not mean an Avril Lavigne broken heart where she sings about her skater boy. My heart broke like Adele's heart broke on her 21 album. My heart stopped beating like Amy Winehouse's stopped during her drug overdose. I could feel Hodor being stabbed while he held that fucking door. Fuck you, November 8, 2016.</p><p>I was half way through my colossal of a margarita. I already drank two beers and two hard ciders. It was my friends birthday, and we wanted to celebrate at a bar, near a television. I warned him that morning saying if Hilary didn't win, his birthday would be the worst day ever. I regret saying this.</p><p>The words popped on the screen, "Clinton Calls to Concede." I hear a girl crying at the bar. Some other girl was snap chatting/screaming that Trump is president. Two people were running around celebrating weed being legalized. I could not move. I could not speak. The words Trump is President would not leave my mouth. And as Mike Pence walked out on stage, and introduced the new President Elect.... The tears rolled down my cheeks. I turned to my friend with red eyes, a snotty nose, and asked him in the midst of sobs, "Do you want a...<a href=>Read More</a> It's Okay... I'm Attracted to Jesus too. Fri, 29 Jul 2016 22:18:27 -0700 <p>Since the dawn of time (literally), we, females, have been attracted to the 'bad boy'. The one who is misunderstood, has daddy issues, and suffers from anger management. He has a heart... but has to keep it hidden from the world. Until he meets that right girl. He is gentle with her, and will buy her as much cake as she wants and NEVER EVER say she's fat. Cause he understands her. And respects her.</p><p>We see this formula everywhere. It's in every Nicholas Sparks movie (Nick, heard about the divorce, that's rough), it is the title of every love song (Thanks T. Swift), and it is the fault of EVERY HOOK UP. I MEAN IT. ALL OF THEM. Curse you Tinder, and your concubine, Bumble.</p><p>Why do we do this? Why, ladies? Why are we attracted to this bad boy image, with the hope of a good boy attitude tucked underneath. WHY?</p><p>The answer came to me when I was writing my previous blog. I wrote in there that I was attracted to Jesus. After a few phone calls from friends and family who thought I needed counseling, the answer dawned on me and it lit up my soul as every miracle should.</p><p>JESUS IS THE ULTIMATE BAD BOY.</p><p>You still with me?</p><p>He said no to society. He preferred the company of outlaws and the town hooker. Told the king to fuck off. He never knew his dad. And, the best part, he could not have sex because he was emotionally unavailable. <em>Be still my beating heart</em>...</p><p>I remember sitting in Sunday School, looking at the picture of Jesus carrying that cross, and listening to my teacher talk about sins. Imagine Jeff Bridges in a pink flowery dress, with a high pitched southern twang, repeatedly telling the students that Jesus was a rebel. Jesus did not obey the rules of man, but the rules of God. Jesus knew there was a bigger plan for him.</p><p>I stared at the picture. My teachers words echoing in my mind. I looked up, and I saw them; The two boys I had a crush on at the ripe age of five. The first was Jordan, a sweet boy with glasses...<a href=>Read More</a> When He Doesn't Call Wed, 06 Jul 2016 11:37:40 -0700 <p>Move on.</p><p>That's it.</p><p>But really.</p><p>Ladies, you deserve someone who wants to call you.</p><p>Gentlemen, you deserve someone you want to call.</p><p>Remember the North.</p><a href=>Read More</a> WTF, Judy Blume? Sun, 26 Jun 2016 19:16:11 -0700 <p>For anyone who did not grow up with the infamous Judy Blume books, let me fill you in. Judy Blume is a Female American author who wrote BRILLIANT novels for the pre teen girl. The books had relatable characters, plot twists, and, of course, G rated sex scenes. What's a young adult book without some tongue on tongue action?</p><p>I remember reading <em>Tiger Eyes</em> when I was moving at the ripe age of 12 years old. I couldn't stop crying in the back seat of the car. My mom kept thinking I was getting my period. No mom, it's Judy Blume, speaking to the depths of my soul. I WAS SAD CAUSE WE WERE MOVING, MOM. A GIRL CAN BE SAD WHEN SHE IS MOVING AWAY FROM HER FRIENDS. She still doesn't understand.</p><p>Judy was my savior. For a while, I was convinced I was Margaret in <em>Are you there God, It's me Margaret?</em> In fact, I'M STILL CONVINCED. I better check that shit out.</p><p>Those books were everything. Any question that I had about anything and everything... were answered by Judy. She was my fairy godmother, and whenever I was lost, confused, upset, or just out of balance with myself and the world, Blume taught me to bloom (get the word play?). And for every girl, I think it's important to have some sort of literary foundation. It's the closest thing we have to an imaginary friend.</p><p>I got older. Harry Potter hit the screens. Stephanie Meyer wrote a couple of books about an anorexic girl with self esteem issues... or is that 50 shades??? Or is it every Hollywood movie. I can't tell the difference anymore. My tastes changed. I began to push the boundaries. I traveled. I fell in love. I fell out of love. I went to school. I dropped out of school. I went back to school. I graduated from school. I think we're getting the picture.</p><p>As I enter adulthood.... I STILL HAVE QUESTIONS. I tried watching Girl Meets World, but I'm not 14. Bridget Jones wouldn't respond to my fan mail. And no matter how hard I tried Mulan is not a real person. JUDY WRITE ANOTHER...<a href=>Read More</a> I get Cheeky Tue, 31 May 2016 15:13:03 -0700 <p>Becoming a woman is equivalent to a mathematician solving a long equation. There are rules that apply to different numbers, you can divide if you multiply first, and no matter how you follow PEMDAS, you get the wrong answer. It’s the same for women. When I solve an equation for womanhood, I take a shot. depending on how long the equation was, the more shots I take. For example, when I realized why every Clorox infomercial would tell me their product would remove bloodstains; I assumed they were appealing to every serial killer. It all made sense when I got my period (three shots). Another rule is the tampon rule. When another female needs a tampon, give it to her. I have given my last tampon to the girl who stole my last bite of key lime pie, and my boyfriend (six shots). I think I’m more upset about the pie. Lastly, when a girl needs you to talk to her in the bathroom, let her talk, and listen patiently (Thank you, Lena) (Two shots).</p><p>Women understand it, “They’re more like guidelines”(Pirates of the Caribbean). And when you realize another one, it’s another equation solved, another shot, and another cheers to womanhood.</p><p>My biggest equation was the day my life got cheeky. I consider myself an average built little lady. I’m Mexican and Arab, so my ‘look’ is a mix. I have BIG hair; no one in my family knows where it's from. I have a theory I’m part lion. I’ve always been dealing with weight issues and living in Hollywood has caused unnecessary self-body shaming. Which forced me to hide myself in yoga pants and sweatshirts. Then I got a real job, and I had to wear a uniform.</p><p>I have a complicated job. Not many people understand it. It consists of me taking peoples food orders, putting them in a computer, bringing the food to the table when it’s ready, and then, someone getting angry that their food has carrots, even though they never said they didn’t want carrots. It’s interesting. My first day there, I had to wear grey pants and a white button...<a href=>Read More</a> Life is a Half Baked Cake Tue, 24 May 2016 12:01:10 -0700 <a href=>Read More</a>