Kissing Andy Botwin, Marketing, Revirginization, Sci-Fi Nipples & Shampoo


It is a shockingly common occurrence in my life that women are gifted unto me, seemingly, with very little effort on my part and at a certain point after the ludicrous bounty, you have to finally wonder why? Is it because I’m so just baseline physically attractive? Debatable. More likely it’s cause of this-karma. I motherfuckin’ earned it. ~Andy Botwin

Last night Andy Botwin from Weeds was kissing me, while I was getting website advice from Christine Kane, my business coach, but I kinda dropped the call, because Andy is the best. kisser. ever. Then I had to go wash my hair in a communal camp shower, but I couldn’t find any shampoo, so I borrowed some from my cousin Rodney, then I lost his. It was a cheap bottle of Suave. I woke up before I got to have sex with Andy Botwin, but it was very clear that he was the best lover I might’ve ever had. What a bummer.

My psyche in a nutshell: I’ve been watching the last season of Weeds. I’ve spent the last few months going deep in a marketing class, revamping my business. I’m redesigning my website. I visited my family for my grandmother’s 90th birthday party, where I saw my cousin Rodney a few weeks ago and I just can’t find a great shampoo. Also, I’ve revirginized. I got a divorce last year and I haven’t kissed anyone, or found anyone I really want to kiss, let alone have sex with (strange dick is ick). This is new for me. I’ve never had no one to kiss, not since I was a tween.

During yesterday’s nap I had the quintessential writer’s dream: I had a great novel, an obvious best seller, complete with fascinating plot and profoundly amazing characters. Also, nipples had been reinvented and there was a secret erectile/secretion thing that happened when a woman became extraordinarily aroused. In my dream I told myself to remember everything and repeated the characters’ names over and over. Upon awakening I forgot. Well, I forgot everything except the sci-fi nipples.

Yes, I’m also writing a book. Oh, and I’m turning 40! FORTY! in August.


And guess what? I’m happy. Really, really happy. For the first time in I don’t know when, I’m gently happy. This isn’t a jump up and down, run through a wildflower field douche commercial happy. It’s a gentle, controlled, stable happy. It’s the kind of happy you get when you’re able to relax enough to poop on a regular schedule. When you’re able to lounge by the pool reading a novel while your kids play and not have a deep anxiety about money and your looming divorce running in the back of your mind. It’s the kind of happy where you sleep well at night and get up refreshed in the morning, without the dread of going to a shitty job you hate.

This is the kind of happy that when your kid drowns your MacBook at a slumber party—and tries to fix it by submerging it in rice and then lies about it—and it’s completely destroyed, it’s OK. You calmly rejoice that you have enough money in the bank to buy a MacBook Pro, want to kiss the Mac Genius on the mouth because he saved all your data, and calmly inform your daughter that she will be doing a “Major Chore” every day all summer long. Gratitude leaps within you that this wasn’t the end of the world. It didn’t completely destroy your business and honestly, when you had to miss a deadline you just took a deep breath and let it go.

It’s that kind of happy. It’s even the kind of happy where you confront real problems from the “Real World,” like deciding you’re done with a decade-long friendship because it’s just not working for you, and it hasn’t for the majority of the friendship, and you feel good about the decision, rather than guilty and shitty. When someone jacks with your business with grave unprofessionalism you just fire them and don’t give it a second thought. When someone questions your pricing, you don’t reduce the price for them, you just allow them to be on their way without wondering if there is something integrally wrong with you.

And yes, it’s even the kind of happy that allows you to challenge your scary authoritative dad, who is a big fat red-faced bully when challenged, when he plays chicken with a diesel with your mini-van and your children in the car (and his own damn grandchildren, child, wife and nephew for that matter) and you don’t back down. In fact, you shout right back at him that “your penis is not bigger than the truck driver’s penis because you are an old man in a minivan!” And you both agree to never, ever travel together again. A corner has turned in you, where you’re more interested in protecting your littles and drawing firm, healthy boundaries than winning your dad’s approval and that’s huge. You finally accept that some people’s approval is unwinnable—and you’re okay with that. It feels good. And you call to wish him a Happy Father’s Day, one day late, and he tells you that your wasband called on time and they’ve invited him to vacation at their home anytime. And you’re cool with that.

She's 90, which means I have at least 50 more years left to be a badass!

She’s 90, which means I have at least 50 more years left to be a badass!

That’s the kind of happy I am. This is the kind of happy that my clients are achieving too. Finding your Soul’s Purpose and then taking steps toward it is the Secret Fountain of Happiness. It must be best beauty secret too—because people keep walking up to me and telling me how beautiful and glowy I am and asking what I’m doing differently. “It’s happiness,” I tell them.

Gentle Contentment happens to be the word that I declared over my year this January. It’s prominently displayed, in red nail polish, on my Dream Board. 2012 was a B.I.T.C.H. with a divorce and a broken shoulder and gaining a buncha stress weight, and being chronically freaked out about money. It was a necessary year of Release (use caution when choosing this word for your year). I figured what I deserved most was a gentle year, one of contentment and healing.

Summer Solstice is the longest day of the year, and it was only a few days ago. There are six-more months until January 1, 2014. Are you on the way to manifesting what you wanted to manifest in 2013? There’s still time.

Declare a word over the next six-months right now. Then follow it where it leads you. Allow it to consume your life. It’s totally worth it.

Tracee Sioux is a Law of Attraction Coach at Authentic Power Living. She has also led The Girl Revolution, a movement to proclaim the power in femininity since 2007 and the author of Love Distortion: Belle, Battered Codependent and Other Love Stories. Email her at to learn more about Law of Attraction and how you can co-create your own life.

*Image courtesy of

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