A bride, a valium and a closet drinker

Note to self, if and when a marriage is ever going to be taking place in this lifetime I will:

A. Elopement is very enticing and the money saved could be pushed onto a major party with friends and family afterward. More money for booze that way-because I’m cheap like that

B. Find comfort in with a PCP and get set up with one of the three charmers: Prozac, Valium or Xanax to ease the rising tension of the people around me i.e. Mom and Sister

C. Throw a bridal party at a house not a store

It has become a little on the clearer side that it’s all about marriages and babies this year, divorces are so blasé and in last year’s fashions. A friend is getting married just after Memorial Day and over the weekend she threw a bridal shower that was originally planned to be a sort of come and go as you please for a few hours.

The shower was being held at my other friend’s boutique, a place that has not seen the likes of more than 30 people inside the walls all at once. A place of almost peace and serenity; even when in the temptation throws of serious consumerism.

It was chaos. People were everywhere and the tension was so thick you could cut it with a plastic knife from the cake. It was frenzied but eventually became a train-wreck for voyeurism in top form.

Bottles of champagne and wine being opened during the setup which was well in the morning (which knowing if and when a wedding ever happens in this court that is expected as well), so much back talking that your ears would turn red, a bride who looked as if she would rather have been at home than at her own party at the end of the party….

and a grandmother who snuck off to the washroom more often than any bladder would allow. With her bag.

Now I’m not one to cast stones, the first couple of times I figured nothing of it just an overactive bladder. The more times she kept clogging up the washroom I thought theft, but she never brought clothes with her.

That is when the bag came into view. Normally I’d say this is a very sad thing, but when you’re aware and telling strangers that even the AA police would be avoiding that shindig, an intervention is in order. But then again…everyone was sipping a little more than the average. Even so, the woman was still functioning and holding babies, walking around. One would never know she was drunk or well on her way.

To make matters even more awkward, I had been asked from multiple people if there were altercations between others. Time to pop another pill and chase it with some wine. With the booze flowing, there was so much merchandise that had anyone slipped with a beverage in hand, disaster could have struck.

By the end of the shower I felt completely drained, and I was a guest! This is where the prescriptions come into play. Showers are fun, everyone has a great time, the bride is glowing because she is so happy. If you’re not feeling this, those little pills will make you smile wide and shine brightly. It was a rocky boat ride. Groups were segregated, everyone was friendly but there were distinct couplings-weird, very few took part of having their nails painted, spray tans and massages.

Lesson learned this time around, depending on the bride. Showers are like rollercoasters. They go up and down and just when you think you’ve found a groove along the rails you’re launched into an oblivion of chaos and speed.

When a dirty martini becomes an invite into the carpool

Days have gone by in a massive whirlwind that almost feels like a tornado swept through, swirled around in my flat(causing unnecessary gnats in my already unruly hair) and brushed out. Only there’s still a few high powered winds that seem to want to stick around.

How often do you find yourself sitting in front of a live show. How often do you know someone who the show is based on. And then the ever elusive, how often do you stay up late on a school night god knowing that IBprofen is going to be your best friend in the morning.

Hang over hot mess.

The show was a major success, several of us headed into the city to watch the live syndication and it couldn’t have been more excited. You almost half expected Bob Barker to pop through the silver velvet drapes and present his overly tanned self to the crowd.

In serious need to celebrate, we headed out to a bar down the street and dominated a corner. And by dominated I mean we dominated their vodka supply.

Extra dirty martinis a go go. It was absolute bliss. With the music blaring, excitement pumping we settled on the one thing that can make you forget you were ever hungry. A dirty martini. But I thought that excessive drinking causes the munchies you ask? Oh no, the olives cure those pesky hunger pangs.

While I was finally getting a chance to talk to some friends I hadn’t talked to all night, I got the firm tap on the shoulder. That tap on the shoulder that when you turn to look and see what is going on, you know you should have just ignored it.

Let’s rewind this just a tad. I had all intentions of driving into the city by myself only because I know how I am with going out and am always there to offer rides but am never the first to leave. Try close to the last or somewhere in the middle. I chat, let loose and have fun.

I rode in with a group. Everyone in the group had to work the next day. Now mind you, there are some times when you go out and think good god when did 9pm feel like 2AM?

And vice versa.

But not this night. I had wanted to celebrate with everyone because we had all been talking about it for weeks on end. Because it was going to be outrageously exciting, because this group is outrageously exciting.

I turned and saw the faces of my group and knew, this girl, pointing in the direction of my own chest would be going home with them.

We left early, I was completely beside myself that they didn’t want to stay and celebrate. We had just gotten everyone together and were already slipping out for the night. Royal bummer. Over the weekend I stopped into my friend’s shop to see how she was and how everything turned out and got the whole rundown.

And a big fat holler that I missed everything.

What was meant to be was meant to be, the ride out was pretty fun. There’s another taping this week and it falls on the wretched day that I’d love to forget and a bunch of us are heading back into the city for it. Because of the day it falls on, I requested a triple dirty martini and a date was in order. I’m getting a handful of dates, we’ll see how strong the drink is then.

I’ve recuperated somewhat from this weekend, the rest is a whole other animal of a post that will take more than a few glasses of wine and antibiotics to pump out...

But until then, if you didn’t already catch my last post about not so shameless plugging. I’m up to schenanigans again. Here’s a glimpse of what I got to see on Thursday for my friend’s taping. Its up on Youtube and streaming live via Facebook at 9am CST this morning while she gives out this week’s assignment/competition.



Happy Tuesday

So You Wanna Be a Designer

When a fashion reality show pops up on the television do you find yourself sinking into the couch waiting for the drama and bitchiness to unfold, anticipating what garment is going to be created and expected to turn the heads of everyone around?

This is so exciting I’m about to split at the seams….literally!

My dear friend has been working on a project for some time now and is doing something that many dream about and hope for in the fashion industry. She’s putting her eye for fashion and taste for style on the marks of a major production company and facebook and is launching a reality series…starting tonight.

…insert the not so shameless plug here…

Kenmore live studios and Facebook have teamed up with a one Ootra (plug..plug..plug!!) creative model/designer and created a show similar to Project Runway. It’s the first of its kind on the social media market.



So You Wanna Be a Designer begins an 8 week run tonight. It’s being streamlined live, every Thursday via Facebook. 6 contestants are followed and have to compete in becoming an experienced designer. On an eight week journey, these designers will go through the ups and downs of putting together pieces and shows.

What makes this series different from the other creative reality programs that are out there? Her drive that is for sure and I can’t wait to see her in action. The show revolves around a love of seeing beyond something ordinary and making it extraoardinary. Her concepts are inspiring as is her ability to be nothing but caring and yet remains daring to push the boundaries in creating something that will be incredible, all of this channeled and to be passed down to these lucky contestants. She will be hosting the show but really she will be guiding the contestants through this whole learning experience that could launch their career in a cut throat industry.

A bunch of us are getting spruced in our very best to watch the first taping at the studios tonight in support of our friend and then heading off for some serious celebrations which will be very much in order.

To see what really goes on behind a show of this size is pretty amazing and to see all of the blood, sweat and tears up close and personal. Well, bust out the popcorn because this will be the Thursday night nitro for the next 8 weeks.

Drama. Clothes. Competition.

The perfect equation for fat ass syndrome. Couch beware because an indent is going to happen!

So that’s that for a very simple morning…tonight while you’re automatically checking up on facebook, get off of the status updates and roll over to this link and see what the fuss is all about. So you wanna be a designer kicks off at 7PM CST

(click to enter the live studio, load the app and it should stream automatically)


On twitter, follow along for ongoing updates @KenmoreConnect, @ootragirl Or #sywbad

Sinking In

There are some people that believe that everything happens for a reason.
Signs or a passing of something on a street that just so happens to match the exact mode of what you are thinking. What you are asking for in terms of guidance or even some things that happen and are pointing you into a direction that you had not even given a glimmer of thought to.

And then like a flash of lightning, or an ‘ah ha’ moment something solid, a pattern, a statement or something laid out in front of you smacks you square in the face. It snaps your eyes open and forces you to pay attention to whatever those thoughts were and to possibly turn them into a reality.

I have been focusing on so many underlining factors that these little signs have been flagging themselves outright and yet have gone overlooked. Noticed but overlooked.

Six months ago I would have said there were no signs indicating where I am sitting at this very moment. Six months ago I would have said I gave up on listening to those signs simply because they were jaded and misguided, or maybe I was just angry with myself because things were not working out and I wasn’t sure how to get out of a rut.

When really I focused almost too intensely on those little signs hearing the outlining but never the real core of the message behind the meaning. Oh those signs were happening for a reason.

They were symbols of warning initially but eventually leading to something that was bound to be larger than ever expected.

I believe that when you are in the right place at exactly the right time you know it in your heart of hearts. There is a feeling that fills you that cannot be explained. It’s strange but all you can say to yourself or to the people around you who think you have lost your mind.

I know this is right, I just do.

Times have been so incredibly difficult over these months that swept through and should have felt like a week passed by when in reality it feels like three years have swept by. They have crept through at a snails pace and that is okay.

Things are beginning to fall into place in certain aspects but really everything has been piecing itself together and creating a foundation that is rock solid.

For once in my entire life, and this sounds craziest of all, there is a calmness about today. There is an absolute peace with an abundance of gratitude and grace that guides into the minutes and hours.

Finally after hitting that head/breaking point it almost feels like all that has happened was a test of survival, of endurance. To notice that tactics have changed is more than uplifting but is also exciting and causing this deep breath of fresh air that cannot be faltered or lessened.

I don’t know where I am going with this and can only laugh that this all sounds like a Dear Abby letter on xanax, all I know is that this morning I woke up, got out of bed and felt free.

All of the moments of fear, trepidation, pleasure and anticipation got me here to this desk this morning. To this place in life to find permanence and it’s finally sinking in that I have found permanence in my soul.

Quirk or Personality

We all have them. Whether it be wearing only red half cropped socks inside out to bed, humming the national anthem while at a red light and then giving a stadium like wave when it turns green or mentally judging whether or not you can take the car next to you in speed zone like you’ve hit the Indy 500. Ready or not they are ready to come out and play.

The other day while having a conversation via skype with my closest friend, she pointed out some of those itty bitty quirks that I never pay attention to. Out of nowhere she would start laughing until finally I’d ask what was so funny. That was when she’d air out the laundry of our pesky little habits.

Omigod! Wait, no…SHUT UP!
Notorious, this is what I am known for. I am animated, someone could be in mid-sentence but if something comes into my mind from out of the blue you can bet your bottom dolla that I’m going to interrupt and shout the beloved, ‘Omigod!’ Which technically this is not a bad thing because it rubs off on others. During the chat, my friend just started laughing and said, “this is what I miss.’ Just the same as when I hear ‘fuck sake.’

Laughing reduces wrinkles, or does it cause them?
I laugh at everything, this includes serious things. For example, did you just trip and fall: I am laughing. Are you crying because the brush is stuck in your hair? I am laughing. It’s awful, embarrassing, but like a nervous tick it happens.

True story: My sister was using some kind of electric hair brush when her hair got tangled up in a gnarly mess. Bits and strands were stuck around the motor of the brush, she was a screaming and crying mess, shouting at me to help get the strands out as gently as possible. I fell on the floor laughing so hard on the verge of a urinary slip up. Let’s just say, her hair got untangled and she wouldn’t talk to me for a week.

There are starving children in China
Thank you fine parenting skills for teaching us that there are starving children in the world far more deserving of a full plate of food than we are. Were you raised to eat every morsel of food on your plate? Waste not right. What happened to the want not? To this day, I struggle when out at restaurants with the whole ‘must push the plate away’ syndrome. I’m sorry, buffet what? Oh no, no no!

What if I just smacked you in the face?
Since on the topic of siblings, my sister used to do this and I HATED it. Out of nowhere, she would come up to me and say, ‘Morgan, what would you do if I slapped you in the face, you’d totally cry wouldn’t you?’ What a brat, I tried to ignore her impudence but of course after several ‘what if I just (s)’ that all revolved around mockery you get a tad on the snappish side and fall into the whole schpeal. To this day, the woman still does this, and what makes it all the sweeter (on her end) is that my brother in law does it as well.

Plastic or silver?

Man's joke to fine cutlery

Hate the clinking of metal on your teeth, how about a spork(which is just a damn shame and a waste of a utensil if you ask me or any other like minded elementary folk)? A friend of mine does not trust the trustee silver flatware and vows only immense love for the white plastics that are a mere $2.50 at your local grocery store for a set of 25. The first time she told me this I stared at her in disbelief and when we went out for a happy hour, what better than the flash of white plastic crept out of the purse and got set on the table.

They’re the little things that add to your character, that make you undeniably YOU. The next time someone cracks their knuckles or only eats the bun of a burger and tosses out the square meat patty because ‘it’s a square!’ know that those quirks as crazy as they are, are a part of your makeup.

Whoops, I didn't see you there

Just three months ago, at the start of a new year we all make resolutions with utmost sincerity. Something to steer clear of and others to aim for. Putting the gym off seemed so much easier but putting dating off, that didn’t seem to happen even despite the rough cycle that is melting like a 7-Eleven slushee.

Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water, the first quarter of the year has turned into speed dating 101. Normally I’d be getting huffy over the failed resolution but it’s actually been a little on the fun and highly educational side, if a little adventurous being tossed into the mix as well.

There’s been quite a few nights out that have taken me out of the typical comfort zone, given the chance of exploring a new area, skating falling in the heart of a park and sitting in a restaurant until almost three in the morning.

Some have been fun, awkward, friendship building; all of them have definitely been entertaining.

I’ve come to grips with the fact that this is the era where rather than a simple phone conversation has been replaced with a miniature text message. This still baffles me and like a natural, I rebel against this and because of that am still going back and forth with new picks of the litter.

Way back when there was a wakeup call with crazy hair, rumpled sheets and an empty house. That man, well he came back into the picture. Ever so slightly and definitely on a random chance encounter.

A couple of weeks ago my phone rang, while I was in the midst of the sending out umpteen resumes a day mode I answered automatically thinking the call would be a prospective employer.

It was the disappearing act. Calling months later, his number had been deleted and I honestly had no clue who was calling let alone had to have him repeat his name in order for it to register.

It registered with a foot in mouth statement that could only have come from yours truly.

Disappearing Act:….a whole lotta deep breaths and almost sputtering of words (I laughed because it sounded like a train wreck via telephone)

Me: ___ who? (this asked twice) Oh yeah, the disappearing act, I take it your meeting ran long and now you want a little mid morning snack. (sarcasm and me do not go hand in hand)

Disappearing Act: mumbling, a few curses and a whole lot of explaining.

We talked, I laughed him off and figured nothing of it until a happy hour rolled around that I had without thinking mentioned on the telephone when we spoke. Who none other than this man, the disappearing act shows up at the bar. Dressed to impress.

I was not impressed, surprised but not impressed. Maybe a little but he was still the DA in the back of my mind. He sat down with my group and within a short while we both moved away from everyone and sat in a different part of the bar.

Needless to say, it’s been a couple of weeks and I may not be speed dating but I have seen the DA more times than I care to admit.

He’s worth with a few laughs, a man of the minute, someone that will be if anything a distant memory. I am not serious about this man nor do I have any illusions due to a few ‘trust’ issues considering the track record but either way it’s safe to say that grooves are easy to get back and reclaim so long as you go in with an open mind and zero expectations.

Seeing this man, the DA, makes me remember exactly what I want and what I will not settle for. Which is kind of a double standard considering the fact that I’ve seen him after the whole debacle but he’s not the only person I’ll talk to and I can walk away from him whenever I want, this is not exclusive it is just what it is.

Passing time until I find whatever it is that is exactly right.

A relationship with a man in which a nickname or a number isn’t created for and who’s name can be remembered without having it repeated three times, but wait, remembering names isn't a strongpoint so maybe a nickname really is okay.

Until the next episode of the misadventures of the single life....

I think I’ll buy the flowers

For as long as I can remember there have always been flowers scattered around the home that I have been in. The scent filling a room or drifting down a hallway while the splashes of color adding an element of something unexpected in an ordinary room making it extraordinary.

My mind has been filled to the brim with constant clutter, the switch to turn off has been duct taped twice over to the point where even walking along the river couldn’t calm the thoughts. Thoughts that worry, excite, trouble and motivate.

While walking through the market the floral section and bundles of bouquets immediately grabbed my attention and the clutter was quieted almost instantly. It was like something deep inside released a grip and a long and oh so deep breath was allowed through.

All thoughts that I had been focusing on were a constant fixture yes but the flowers were telling me something so clear. So fundamental that I should have seen all along.

Nothing is permanent, it doesn’t matter what happens yesterday tomorrow is still undecided.

The flowers are simply cut, wrapped and waiting to be placed in a glass filled with water. So it can bloom for another day. There are no yesterdays of growing in the deep milled soil there is only the hydration of right now and the possibility of another day.

Sitting here with the overhang of grey clouds and a possible storm coming on, my house is filled with a warmth that has been missing for weeks. For fear of veering from a budget I stopped this simple pleasure that clearly wasn’t a pleasure. It was as much a part of my structure as the air we breathe. The clutter that has crafted two hour nights of sleep and days wasted on worry feel like a distant memory, the good that has happened over several months has been overlooked.

This has been an eventful week filled with so many unexpected invitations to meet up with friends that I am lucky to have. Friends that have become family in a sense that are there for you no matter what. Call on you when things are at the highest or lowest. Friends that know you would do the same for them.

Offers for work that three months ago seemed as if it was never going to happen and yet they came pouring in. The community that I live in is very tight, the town is smaller and yet people band together. It is filled with serving the greater good for people of all sorts and to get involved with this would have been a dream. It is no longer a dream, but a reality as a new week starts with a new venture.

Opportunities from friends and acquaintances, tossed in your direction when you least expect them, showing how you make an impact on someone else’s life without even knowing it. Every smile, laugh, conversation can turn into anything you want it to be and more.

It would seem unfair to give into the cluttered thoughts. The flowers are the reminder for switching those thoughts off. As the warmth fills your heart, to remember all of the things whether they be large or small, the point is to remember everything that has given us appreciation, happiness, peace and relaxation.

This is all more so a bunch of rambling words and I'm feeling a tad on the emotional side because for once things are really looking up and proving that this is the time. This is the place.

But for a Sunday it seems all the more perfect to let this confection claim its spot. Doors are opening, the sun is rising earlier and more flowers are beginning to bloom and for this day there are hydrangeas in my front room.

You’ve got mail, more like spam mail

Oh the sweet sound of a ding, the flashing light on our phone or a pop-up reminder on the screen indicating a new message. Junk mail or not, three little itty bitty words that change everything for that minute. You’ve got mail.

It’s like watching for the mail to be delivered on a sunny afternoon. The truck pulls up and you wait anxiously to see what’s in the inbox. Postcards, letters or this week’s wheels and deals over at the quick-o-mart.

{Courtesy of Chain Mail Explosion}

....junk mail

Are you retired? Do you know someone who is retired, or even better-recently retired?

(Wistful note)Wouldn’t it be a lovely day in the neighborhood to be retired by the tender age of (insert age here) spending days shopping, lounging poolside, ordering your significant other around the house, children able to make decisions on their own despite their age, requesting Guisseppe to clean the pool and refill your margarita fishbowl? Bliss, but then again I would want my significant other and kiddos poolside sipping slushees splashing Guisseppe.

For years, I don’t think I ever received emails from my Mom that were forwards, I take that back. FWD:Travel itineraries, that is all. She would always laugh if we talked about an email we sent her (FWD or not), she deleted them all.

Fond memories of standing at the airport waiting for a ride after flying back home from university (This is before cell phones were joined at the hip). Waiting and no ride, finally after an hour of wasted quarters the truth came out. “What email?”

The woman retired a mere 7 months ago and she’s sending out emails faster than Victoria’s Secret sends out sale notifications.

Morning, noon and night they are pouring through and each time all I can do is laugh. This woman who once lived on her blackberry and still can’t send a package through the postal service if her life depended on it. And yet she can forward.

{Courtesy of Google}

Shame, shame. A woman selling margaritas on a beach out of her bikini cups and raking in the dough? Hilariously crude but still getting censored, at least for this posting, or did you get it last week!?!

Does this not make you wonder if you can add a ‘Spam’ filter on your email provider for ridiculously long, picture only, chain mailing messages that could make someone laugh out loud or desperately itch to hit the delete button?

On a completely side note; lol, omg, hahaha coming from your mom via text is really weird. At least from my mom, but I loves this more than butta on a biscuit.

Spam mail or not, getting some of these emails, yeah they may clutter your inbox for a day or fill it up overnight, either way they’re still stupid and funny.

They’re still getting mentioned at lunch or dinner parties.

And they’re still going to get forwarded two years from now as a repeat offender.

{Courtesy of Google}

How many FWDs did you wake up to this morning?

Can I get an amen?

Unlike listening to some random psychic telephone scam for reasons called too much time on one’s hands, the ears are beginning to open up to these tarot readings that seem to be at my door.

{Courtesy of Google}

Is the third time really a charm? I am beginning to think so. The top three rankers for things we all want to know about: Love. Career. Health. Talk about a no brainer.

Round One
Oh so vague, I tackled this a ways back (Remembering to Grab Hold...), I shuffled the cards thinking about relationship possibilities and where I stood (spinster ways behind us, wishful thinking right) and was told I was losing my ‘light.’

Round Two
The second go around was basically the same cards (a few inverted-not so good) and as I stared down at the cards the reader turned to me and started the session off by saying ‘snap out of it.’ The rough spell was clearly being displayed.

Last week I had another opportunity for a reading and this time I was ready. It felt like being in Las Vegas, I shuffled he dealt. As the cards got laid out, he let out a breathy laugh as did I when I saw those same damn cards, in different positions and a new addition at the end. The difference this time was four blessed cards. Thank and You.

HIM:Things aren’t working for you exactly the way you want right? What are you doing to make a change?

ME:Lots of things, but they still aren’t happening.

HIM:Are you sure? Look at the smaller things and then look at the bigger picture. Now what do you see?

Here’s a note for anyone heading out to see a tarot reader, psychic or medium. Be specific. More importantly be very specific, include names, dates, colors, sizes……

Tarot reader or life coach?

When he got to the very last card he finally looked up and said thank god. Thank god? Please explain! There is light at the end of this bitchy tunnel! Listening with a grain of salt but inside I was flooding with relief.

Yes there have been hard times(he called these out from reading #1). Yes there have been challenges and conflicts with personal relationships and relationships within (all three readings). But there is something good coming this way that will open the doors (amen brother). I don’t want to read into this or have expectations but it’s hard not to wonder as he has not steered me wrong with the other reads.

For example, some of the things he mentioned (twice) was that he thought it would be beneficial to work for a not-for profit or charitable foundation. I received a phone call and what am I doing this week? Working for a not-for profit foundation.

There are a few other things that I’ll wait to touch on until I feel a tad more comfortable with them. If anything these readings have been a cheap thrill making me very aware of a few things that could have been diverted. That old saying, beware of the blinding eye speaks the truth.

So back to the original question is the third time a charm in any instance,disregarding tarot but life in general? The answer is still up in the air as are all things but for today the sensors are open and we'll see.

A triple whammy

Pretty dress, sparkly shoes, fancy red carpet:so this is what that feels like. This little diddy has been getting quite a bit of action. For the most part, this is a tad overdue, but now is as good a time as any to give shout outs of thanks especially as another round of glitter has been sprinkled this way.

This bit of blurbs has been awarded. I am touched and still surprised that the topics that get written about reach out to someone else. Something that I like to call babbling con electronica which exposes everything I go through from the randomness to the darkest bits is read by others, it’s live, out there.

I began with minimal intentions but to keep a few friends who were miles away updated with quirky happenings only to become somewhat reliant of the outlet it created. This space became my place to vent, voice and let go. Rather than just rambling on about something that meant nothing, those ramblings turned into an amplified form of release. Ramblings that are relatable.

He’s super excited too…times three!

Courtesy of Google

The lovely Cakeologist, who creates enough gorgeously baked concoctions to make any mouth water-seriously drooling like Niagara Falls. Must Bake Now (not about cake/cakeology). Rebecca, a girl surrounded by books and the bright sights of the rolling hills of SoCal (A day in the life of a german girl) and Sunny a fellow blip fm-er!!! where anything goes (idyll toast) have taken to my rollercoaster mish mash and have gotten down to business. This truly does mean a lot, probably more than you’ll know and I’m very happy that I get to carouse your bloggies too! For this triple whammy (big money, BIG MONEY) I must say thanks.




And follow rules…yikes I’m terrible at this and was born to rebel against them. But rules are rules and I’ll do it because you’re so kind to this little blog that could. So in accepting these tokens of appreciation I must share some random factoids about myself and pass the torch. So er goes.

-Need a month of free gym services? Coming right up! I was working out at a gym and a woman came up to me asking questions about my workout regime, etc. We started meeting up twice a week to workout together. I got approached by a trainer and was given a major ’No No’ about conducting personal business at their gym. I don’t snap at people but at 4:30am, heads will roll. I told him that if he’d been paying attention to his clients rather than his co-worker maybe he’d be raking in the dinero. Package deal, in the bag.

-I am a perpetual student of sorts, when bored I pick up new hobbies or learn new things. Personal training, I can make grown men cry or throw up. Licensed bartender, double shot of vodka with a lime twist, gotcha. Knitting fiend, not quite there yet as I lose focus on over and unders but am still learning….

-Willy Wonka ain’t got nothin’ on me. Oh heck no. Everyone loves this movie, watches it more times per year than I do body cleanses. I am one in about none who does not. There is something about it that raises the hairs on the back of the neck, taking a pass on this one.

-At a 3rd grade choir performance the students were supposed to dress up, I told my mom we didn’t have to. Out of the entire group, I was the only one wearing a hypercolor t-shirt and jeans (don’t judge), when people turned to my mother with snickers about who’s child that was she denied any relation. Wise woman.

-Ye have no shame. Who has not been to one of ‘those’ stores, dimly lit, IDs checked at the door. A friend and I stumbled into one on the lookout for naughty undergarments and waltzed right into someone we went to school with working the register. She froze and put her things back on the rack while I plopped my soon to be purchases on the counter and told him it was going to be a good night.

-My last meal on earth would be hot chocolate and toast. Growing up, this was the thing to snack on. Who knew you could find joy in dipping crunchy toast into hot cocoa turning it to mushy chocolate-y gunk but it’s there and I’d take that over almost any dessert any day. So good.

-Wild Strawberry Crystal Light packets are godsend and have been given the nickname crystal crack. I shake a packet in a nalgene bottle every single day. A-ddic-tion [stains your lips and teeth like kool-aid thank god for teeth whiteners-Sex-ay]. Note to self, don’t drink before an interview.

To keep this award season going in separate fashions here are some reads that are worth a few visits. They can make you laugh, make you shout ‘where’s my butta boys?’ or just make you want to get out.

The Stylish Blogger Award goes to...
Life and times of a self proclaimed saucy bitch
The heart on your sleeve

The Versatile Blogger Award goes to...
Love is Home
Yesterday on Tuesday
Home Sweet Farm

If you have a minute, check some of them out. Thanks again for the major support it does mean a lot. Until the next post…

Hamming it up

Oh no, there won’t be a recipe for honey baked hams here today. Today’s an off day. Instead it’s a recipe for a morning, nooner or late night action filled with shits and giggles by none other than the FDA approved and current television crush Jon Hamm.

Because sharing is caring.



Enjoy the day!

You are

You are an open soul
A melding of passion and spirit
Of hope and triumphant truths

You are beautiful in this sense
A sagacity that engages and welcomes

Your beauty is transparent and shines with every breath
Through commotion it never falters but expands with the wind

Your heart is unlocked and beats harmonically with each step
It beats without fear but with hope

Through your open soul there are a thousand joys
These joys shape and create the warm heart
Your kindness spreads this warmth and creates the passion

You are everything you knew you could be

{Courtesy of Google}

A little something different for this Friday after a few days of clearing the mind, body and soul. Have a lovely day and remember you are worth it, even if it means taking a nibble out of that chocolate bar!

Does hot pink make me look pale?

Some people smoke, eat, collect cats. I tan. Who doesn’t want to escape for fifteen minutes and pretend they are on a secluded island basking in UV glory.



Addictions come and go but not this one; this one has stuck around and isn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon. With the dark clouds outside and the rain pummeling the rooftops, getting out and finding sunshine can be difficult at times. I have fully embraced the high powered UV exposures and never take that lighted box of bulbs for granted.

Signs pointing in the direction of an addiction

Sign #1: Denial
I know it’s unhealthy for your skin and I should go with self-tanners but my skin is sensitive. I’ll break out. The high exposure to the light will zap any pesky critters out of the way. Sensitivity be gone.

Sign #2: Rearranging Schedules
Cancelling a dinner date and replacing that time with a tanning session. But it was a really rough day at work and time for meditation was beckoning….repeat Sign #1

Sign #3: Orange is the new Black
You have freshly become part of the rainbow and can't even see it. That and neon colored tanks you thought were given to goodwill, turn up at the bottom of your drawers.


I am not a heavy drinker, but with a drink in hand it is not uncommon to make decisions you normally would never do. Like a truth serum, cocktails can be a serious pusher.

Gathered with a bunch of friends with drinks flowing, stories getting tossed on the floor like an epic date with Twister a woman came into the room without any of us knowing or expecting a thing. This woman has her own spray tanning studio and came to spend an evening with us so we could all get golden and sunkissed faster than you can say bronz-o-licious.

No Thank You. My first thoughts were just this. There was no way, no how I was going to have chemicals sprayed on only my face. I’m not against the spray tans but it just isn’t for me, I tend to lean towards a more natural approach (and yet eating my words as we’re on the subject of tanning beds), but for the most part it’s holistic and natural practicing on this end of the court.

Drink in hand, multiple friends shouting it was a must do. I have to admit, getting sprayed by a vacuum was quite intriguing and piqued my interests. This solely in thanks to the pusher of the evening: Rum, Lemonade and Prosecco. So at the helm of peer pressure I found myself being taken away into an indoor tented adventure that smelled of coconuts and a cool chemical imbalanced breeze.

I walked into a tent as the wintery pale and normal me only to walk out looking like a leather-faced woman who looks as if she fell asleep on the beach for 53 years and 22 hours.

My face is a hot mess. A bronzed and almost dirty looking hot mess. Sign #3.

But it smelled good for 6 hours, will last a week and was free.

Interviews a go go this week and as the latest fashion accessory on the market, I’m sporting an unnatural tan. This is so typical and I’m curious how everyone else managing their tans. Bless it. It’s safe to say that I will be sticking to the warmth of the UV bulbs and natural sunlight for future tans.

And so here I sit. Sipping coffee with sunkissed cheeks while filling out applications for the next overly tanned and ridiculously scandalous reality television series.

Why don’t you go watch the microwave instead?

Cooking is sort of like washing dishes, reading a book or taking a really long and hot bath. It’s therapeutic and very relaxing, at least for this lady it is.

Growing up, the aroma of a homemade concoction was always present in the house. My Dad would hole himself up in the kitchen with the local news station on in the other room. While he was focusing on some global policy and yelling his crazy antics at a blank screen, the sauces bubbled over. The top layer creating a tight film itching to be stirred.

I always wandered into the kitchen and it was almost as if he could smell the anticipation in stirring the ingredients and turn down the heat. Clear from the other room, he would shout over the broadcasters at me, “Don’t stir that, it needs to blend. Why don’t you go watch the meat thawing in the microwave instead?”

{Courtesy of Google}

A tyke can wish of TV on the micro right? Forget RHOOC episodes (which I totally missed, thank you BravoTV.com) The only thing that was interesting was a tray moving round and round.

But this is what I did while the sauces were bubbling over, meat browning and beginning to burn around the edges. I hunched over the counter, leaned my head against the warm front and began a young lifelong kitchen pursuit of radioactive exposure via the microwave.

To this day, I rarely use the micro and only have one because my mother came to visit and refused to use a stovetop to make oatmeal...The minute I moved out, I started collecting cookbooks. Started cooking crazy meals that take an entire day to prepare. All because the kitchen was now a place I could be in. Whether it be bite-sized or wide open. Friends, boyfriends and family have always and will always be welcome in my kitchen because it holds no secrets. It tells no lies.

And so from my kitchen to yours, here is a recipe that won’t make you or your loved ones stand in front of the micro waiting for something to thaw and most definitely won’t create a mess on the stovetop. A simple spring/summer dish that is dish delish.

{Courtesy of Volterra Restaurant, Seattle, WA}

Fennel Seasoned Prawns with Taggiasca Olive Relish

Ingredios (for 2 servings)
4 Jumbo Prawns, peeled and deveined
Fennel Seasoning-to taste
EVOO

For the salad
1/2c Fennel Bulb, cored and sliced very thin
½ c Orange segments
2Tbsp Orange Juice
1/4c Taggiasca Olives
1Tbsp EVOO
1Tbsp Champagne vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste (if you have truffle salt use this)
1c Baby Arugula
1Tbs Chives, freshly chopped
Directions

Preheat grill. Sprinkle liberally with Fennel seasoning and rub with EVOO. Grill until just cooked and serve atop the salad.
For the salad. Combine all ingredios for thet salad in a medium bowl and mix thoroughly. Place the salad on a plate and top with the prawns. Sprinkle with chives.
For an added kick, you can skewer together prawns and scallops.

Voila!

Kentucky Derby and the evil eye

Do you ever find yourself out and about, shopping for a tank top that doesn’t don a stain from red wine (whoops, had a little too much!) and walk in with a coffee stain on the current shirt? Buying a box of tampons knowing you’re going to get the Super Plus and throw in chapstick to ease the checkout process? Or how about the personal favorite, picking up laxatives and find yourself being sized up by a clerk at the store or a fellow shopper?

Quick story: One night I had gone over to a boyfriend’s house to find him laying on the couch looking like he was in serious pain. He started complaining about spending the day with clients, blah blah blah and then got to the root of the bellyache. He was constipated. Not the typical conversation you want to have, and obviously he was too pained to care. He asked me to buy something that would ‘help him out.’ Like a good girlfriend I got up, went to the pharmacy and got laxatives and to be a smarty pants picked up an enema box and a few other items (i.e. chewable chocolate laxatives) as a ribbing for making me go out for the purchases. As soon as I got back to his house, handed him the bag and was getting ready to leave he shouted back. “Thank god you had to buy that.” What a wimp, but I did get looks at the store (especially during the checkout) and fell into a hilarious discussion with the pharmacist on which tablet was the best to take. No big deal.

A friend asked several people to help out and model some of her clothes for an event over the weekend. This is nothing too big; it’s a selling point in getting people into her store. I was one of those people, and with the help of zero coffee (uh oh) and two mimosas (thank god, but still uh oh no coffee)the first set of clothes and a strut went out on the floor gracefully. I noticed a few other people working the crowd, some of which were two women wearing massive Kentucky Derby style hats. They were gorgeous, perfect for a royal wedding. Things may turn nasty.

After shutting down the men’s washroom for a quick dressing change, because there was absolutely no way I was going to flash the derrière to the bar staff and an incredibly handsome host. Now had they offered a cup of coffee well then I’d flash them a whole lot more, it could have been like Mardi Gras. But no luck so into the washroom it was.

The second wardrobe set was paying homage to the 1920’s with a modern twist. I was in a silky flapper-inspired slip with a shimmery tank over, high heels and nothing other than a gorgeous hat. A hat one would wear to the Kentucky Derby. A royal wedding. It can’t be too bad right? Styles are different, this is more classic, vintage. Shoot.

Dressed and ready to mingle, a friend and I paired up and again started walking through the sea of manicured gossip networkers only to stop at a table of potential new clients. My friend turned to me and whispered that I was getting a death kill look from one of the other hat ladies. Naturally what do you do?

{Courtesy of Google}

Look at the other hat ladies. You could practically hear the hiss coming from across the room. Almost in unison, both women glared at me and that’s when it happened. I got the lookdown. It was disturbing. Worse than getting the pat down at the airport or entering an arena. Those women were eyeing me up and down from across the room and they did not like what they were seeing.

The mimosas did their trick, because lord knows where the confidence came from to not flee. All I did was smile at them and then lean into the group my friend had been talking to just a minute before and joined in on the conversation.

This happens all of the time with women. The eyes go up and down and rank another person out from top to bottom. Brand to thread. It’s like reading the cover of a book and saying-yes or no in a split second. Those ladies were pissed, none too pleased, and what can I say. It was great. The hat got complimented, the fringe on the slip stole a few glances and created several clients and did I once do a look-down at those women?

Nope, without thinking I complimented their hats when they walked in before the show even started. What an idiot. I didn’t even think for a minute that they would have taken offense, this I blame on the lack of coffee to which lead to the loss of a proper thought process. Talk about blonde moment for putting your foot in your mouth, but at least it looked good.

How to dress like a twin and make it look good

Girls Weekend has taken over the town like an early spring’s night dream. The hot spot restaurants have opened their doors and rolled out the red carpets for the local merchants and boutiques to spread the word of what is in store for Spring Fashion Trends. Suburbia style.

With this comes nights out to prepare for what’s in store, literally. Happy Hours beckon and reel you in with their $5 specials on cosmos (such a girlie drink but they’re so good, don’t hate!) and tasty nosh.

Last night with the kickoff for the weekend extravaganza I met up with some people to indulge before taking part in the festivities.

We met up at apparently the place to be on a Thursday night. This is a small yet prominant town. When you go out, you don’t go out in leggings and a Target tunic (check this one against, this girl lives in leggings and bargains). You (does not point in this general direction) go out in Prada and are in search for the next boy toy.

I have landed into the fiery pit that is known as Cougarville and their golden eyes were out last night, the peripheral vision, primal. While sipping my sparkling and very tasty beverage I could not help but notice that the bar was loaded to the brim with ladies who were on the prowl. We’re not talking non-obvious folks. We’re talking 95:5 ratio of women to men, some who have been sipping wine all day getting their nails manicured, leaving their husbands at home for the evening so they can de-stress with their women’s group to play bridge. This is what they tell their husbands.

Terrible, horrible, very truthful statement. And I apologize flat out for any lady out there that this may apply to. Not really. Quit the bridge club, divorce your husband and go have fun. Or, maybe don't cheat?

While sitting at the bar taking in this whole new eye adventure and walking trainwreck I saw another younger woman rush through the bar. This younger woman was wearing stripes. Similar stripes. Exactly the same striped tunic I had been wearing but in a different color.


Who Wore it Best?

Heat flooded my cheeks, I hate this. How does this happen? I am not a trendsetter but I like to follow a few trends and mash it up with my own sense of style. How am I in a bar and wearing the same clothes as someone? All of this running through my head until I hear my name being shouted at from behind.

It happens because we both spend time at the same store. It happens because people with similar style seek similar items. It happens with people you call friends. I turned around and immediately started laughing, what’s new. When in doubt. Laugh. There behind me was a friend in almost the exact outfit I donned as well.

Twins. To a lower case t.

A couple of men sat behind both of our tables and joined in our laughter because this could and only would happen during a weekend such as this. We immediately took a photo and sent it to our friend who owns the boutique we spend our days in and within minutes it got posted to the facebook business page. Which led to multiple comments. All of which led to more laughter and more ideas of how to not find embarrassment out of situations like this and turn it into something bigger and badder.

So here’s a few little tips if you find yourself in the same situation to make your outfit standout if you do happen to be standing next to your dressed up doppelganger.

1. If you’re wearing a longer tunic, knot one end high up on the hip and let the other side dangle. It creates an altered appeal to the top and will reveal more of the sheer slip underneath. (text tip #1 and I took it!)

2. Baby it’s cold outside…do you carry a neck warmer in your bag? Put it on, or better yet wrap it around a free wrist. But honestly, who carries these? (text tip #2 Fail.)

3. Is there a flower on the table? Take it and put it behind your ear. If that makes you feel like a klepto, do it anyways. Live on the edge.

Even though the fabric may be the same, every outfit is different if you make it unique. Lessons learned via text messages and Facebook comments. Social Media...Thank you!

Being thankful

Keeping this one short for the week’s end. Today is the start of Girls Weekend in town and I’m heading out to an interview (PLEASE JESUS HEAR MY PRAYERS, I’m not religious…is this bad?) and then jetting off to spend the day following fashion and a bunch of other things.

Spring is inching closer and closer, you can smell it in the air and see it in everyone’s faces. We’ve survived the frigid temperatures, the blizzard that shut down the city and can only expect warmth and a thawing of the ground. That and to hang the parka up in the way back of the closet feels really great today.
With that, these are a few of the things that I am most grateful for, for this week.

{Courtesy of Google}

I am thankful that each day calls were coming in regarding positions that were applied for. For the back to back interviews that seemed endless but still happened and are still happening. Things could be looking up, no?

I am grateful for the thoughtfulness of the company that is McStarbucks and for thinking of warm beverage consumers who drink and drive. Thank you for placing the green lizard imprinted stirrer in the lid so the drink doesn't spill in a moving vehicle!

I am so very thankful for the overstuffed bathtub that has become a personal sanctuary in the washroom. With the passing of each night, the lights have gone out, candles have been lit and the warmth of the bubbly water soothed any worries away.

Lastly, I am thankful that the sun has been radiant each and every single morning once the low clouds have burned off. With the sun shining outside, there is no reason for it not to shine deep within and for that I am most thankful.

Are you feeling thankful today?

Have a very safe and wonderful Friday

Dear Twenties....

It’s coming, time is not stopping and what has been viewed as the apocalypse for women, atleast this woman is about to happen. Here lies at the end of this month the end of a decade filled with prime experiences and the start to a fresh and new period. [Grab some coffee and pop a xanax because it’s about to get philosophical.]

Dear Twenties,

We’ve been together for a decade now and the time is approaching for us to sever our ties and move on. While we’ve been together for so long it’s going to be a difficult separation because we’ve been through a lot and thought I was comfortable with but realized that I’ve outgrown you and it’s time you live a life without me. You need to let me go.

When we first met we were breaking out of comfort zones trying to find ourselves with friends we thought were there for us but in turn were there for trips to Canada, times spent away from what was important and spent on partying and getting lost in a sea of being numb. You showed me that every day is different from the next and when the sun rises so does our soul and with that got me back on track and back in the right direction. Tossing aside hard parties, bad boys and reeled in history books and college applications for a place that will always be home. A place that you knew was as much a part of me as the hair on my head.

While at university we moved away for the first time and knew we could do it. We could find, have and really know what it meant to experience fun. We met friends that became family and opened new doors to seeing the world through clear eyes. We traveled the world and discovered that life is more than a grey cubicle and can be anything we really and truly want.

The last few years have passed by with the blink of an eye but have been nothing short of noteworthy. We’ve seen births, deaths, engagements and divorces. We’ve had surprises that have turned into letdowns but ultimately they’ve told us everything we need to know, we weren’t ready for what is about to come. Moves have brought us strength, breakups have brought us independence and a search for nothing perfect but something comfortable and fitting.

We’ve accomplished a lot more than what could have been expected and I am thankful for your support but I must leave you now in order to move forward. No I’m not going to start wearing mumus and get gray hairs and if I do I have a colorist who can fix that snarky little problem in no time. It’s time for a change and that time is now. So I’m going to walk away and not look back, because it’s for the best for both of us. I love you and will never forget you. Thank you for all of the memories.

Morgan

In twenty nine days I will be leaving my twenties behind and heading into the big bright shining star that is the big THREE OH.

Is there anything that I can’t do that hasn’t been done during the past ten years? Apart from getting drunk in school girl uniforms, cage dancing, random encounters with Scottish futbol players, international travel, and a whole lot of moves sandwiched in between? I’d like to think not.

The years have mostly been filled with moments of self discovery and exploring different extremes to see what paths they lead to. They have taken me to such locations I’d never dreamed about had I not dared to believe and trust what could be.

It has been a period for growing up, a phase for maturing. Of course growing up I had created visions of what things would look like, how they could turn and needless to say. Those were only pipe dreams, fun to have in memory but reality hits.

After putting off university because a party personality had taken over and having to explain to patients while checking them in that getting a tongue piercing was ‘the thing to do’ I made the wisest decision of my life. Grow up and get a damn education.

When you catch yourself looking around second guessing if you’re ever going to be something rather than a medical receptionist working 14 hour days it’s time to make a decision. University was just that, I stopped partying. Took out the tongue ring, but got another tattoo to replace it and enrolled in extra classes at the local community college. I tossed out the party girl and never looked back. Which lead to endless opportunities and countless prospects.

In giving thanks, Thank you for the countless times hairstyles and clothes got tossed through the air like candy wrappers. For the cautious reminders that mixed drinks are not a viable option on nights out but shots of tequila will go down like water. For the many men that have come and gone and taught me things that I probably don’t need to know but am certainly glad I do know because there is a reason they’re still not hanging around.

Mostly, thank you for the 3,652 days that have been filled with ups and down, sunshine and snow and experiences that I would never trade nor regret for this lifetime or the next.

It has taken twenty nine years and 336 days to finally get over the anxiety when that should have been replaced with a little excitement or at least eased with some expensive champagne. I can’t help but think that turning 30 is basically like turning twenty all over again. It’s a new time only this time I’m looking at this through clearer eyes that are steady and unafraid. There’s more anticipation to see what can happen and how I can make it happen.

Birthdays have never been a big deal and I don’t plan to change that up this year, but I will go into this new period without any expectations. Without creating an elaborate vision of what could be and just experience it for what it is and keep doing things that bring a smile to the face. I’m opening my mind and heart to this new time and think it couldn’t have been a better time to turn into this new age.