My Semi Grownup Life

Round Here Pt. 2

2013-05-05T09:23:00.004-07:00

Sorry for the ultra-light posting these last two weeks. Two managers went on back-to-back vacations so that meant extra days and longer hours for me. Which resulted in absolutely no time to plan any kind of blog posts!

I absolutely bury myself in my work, because it makes me happy. But after an extremely long work week, it's nice to come up for air. Until I realize that my house is yet again a disaster. Then I kind of just want to go back to work instead of tackling the domestic mess, haha.

The rain has been pretty unrelenting this week. And for those of you from the South, you know that a solid week's worth of rain means all kinds of life forms start popping up with alacrity. That azalea bush? It was green one day and hot pink the next. It was nice to get out in the back yard and snap a couple pictures in between rain showers. Even though the yard is a mess, there's an uncultivated beauty back there.

At least the rain has washed away all that dang pollen!

Well, I'm Glad That's Over

2013-04-29T08:19:00.004-07:00

Last week was one of those weeks, man. You know the kind, where each day is either really awesome or really shitty.

And while I'm thankful that there was a lot more of the former, all of the emotional roller coaster rides left me exhausted. Here's hoping for a more level week!

Speaking of the really awesome days...

We gave the patio at work a much-needed facelift with fresh flowers and new pillows! Now we just have to keep said flowers alive... Um...

I discovered Greek yogurt! Okay not really. I know you know that it already existed. But I finally ate some! And holy crap, is it delicious! I'm not the biggest fan of regular yogurt, but Greek yogurt is so much more thick and creamy that it's hard not to love.

Continuing in the clean eating vein, I made my first completely clean dinner for Ryan and I. I was way more excited about it than Ryan was, but he still ate it all, so props for him. I made blackened chicken with an avocado-Greek yogurt sauce over cilantro-lime quinoa. So. Good. I adapted the recipe from here.

And lastly, I had a night off! And better yet, Ryan didn't have to work the next day! Because I work in the restaurant biz, my nights off fall during the work week 99.9% of the time, so Ryan and I usually keep it pretty low-key. It was nice to be able to just hang out and relax and enjoy some time together.

What was your highlight of the week/weekend? I hope this week is fantastic!

Also, the winner of the giveaway is Brittany P.! Congrats girl, I sent you an email!

Giveaway Time!

2013-04-22T07:17:00.000-07:00

Y'all are in for a treat today! I've paired up with some AWESOME ladies to bring you some AWESOME prizes! Wanna know more? Yeah, you do...

Blog/Bloglovin

"Hello, lovelies! I'm Chelsea: a newlywed, crafter, coffee addict, and aspiring author. I started my blog because I truly love writing, and I wanted a place to write my opinions and views on everything from what I think about coconut oil to how I feel about human trafficking. On my blog you'll find musings on issues, life, love, and everything in between. I would love to get to know you, so come on over and say hello!"

Bloglovin/Instagram

"Hi! I'm Katie from coffeeloversdilemma! I am a clinical dietitian that believes in everything in moderation. I love food, fun, and fitness as well as having a good time. Grab a cup of coffee as we navigate food, recipes, nutrition, working out and just plain ol fun!!"

So there you have it! Just use the Rafflecopter widget below to enter, and may the odds be ever in your favor! (Yeah, I went there) a Rafflecopter giveaway

Happy Hour: One More Again!

2013-04-19T10:07:00.004-07:00

Blogger, I am shaking my fist and muttering at you right now.

On Wednesday when I installed the cocktail series poll, I used Blogger's poll widget. There have been a couple times now where I've tried to track the results and.... they were not resulting. The poll only showed one answer at a time, and each time was different.

Damn you, poll widget!

So, after much cursing and page refreshing, and a little help from Google, I remade the poll using Poll Daddy's software.

I already have a cocktail idea in mind for you lovelies' first go-round, but please please please revote so I have an idea of what kind of drinks you'd like to see featured!

Also, stay tuned because there's gonna be something awesome on Monday!

Thanks a bunch and have a fantastic weekend!

Bullied: My Story

2013-04-18T10:22:00.002-07:00

This is a long one, so buckle up.

Yesterday I was farting around on Facebook, when I came across a story about a 13-year old boy who committed suicide a few days ago. The boy was bullied for being a male cheerleader, and, after getting into a fight to defend himself against the bullying, was suspended. That beautiful, strong, vibrant boy felt like there was no way out of his bullying, other than to put a gun to his head and pull the trigger.

Every day we see reports on the news of more and more kids that are killing themselves because of bullying. My heart breaks for each and every one of those children and their families. I am at a loss for words to describe how much my soul aches every time I hear about another bully-related "incident."

I think we can all attest that our teenage years weren't all that easy. It's easy to look back and remember all the good things - the newfound freedom of a first car, the first kiss, the freefall of adolescence. I remember hating high school, but now I look back wistfully at those bygone days. For me, I was pretty lucky in high school. I was one of only 800 kids or so, and we all knew each other. I wasn't popular, so I remained fairly off the drama radar. No, it was in middle school that I was tortured. I guess that's why I'm not surprised to see so many bullying suicides occur in kids from 12-15. Those years are the WORST.

I don't think about my personal bullying much anymore. After all, it was fifteen years ago that it all happened. It's easy to put those memories on a shelf, to sweep them under a rug, to nearly forget about them. But I can tell you from experience, it is impossible to ever let them go.

When I was ten my mom got a new boyfriend. He seemed like a pretty nice guy, and he had two kids that were around my age. His daughter was two years older than I was, and his son and I were only three days apart. My own brother is five years younger than I am, so I was thrilled to have some kids my own age. Our families moved in together, and by the time I was 11, my mom and stepdad had gotten married. I know you're thinking that this is all going to turn out with sunshine and roses, like we were the damn Brady bunch or something. If only.

I was so excited to finally have siblings. As the oldest of the kids in my family, I had always wanted an older sister. And now I had one! Not just that, but she was pretty and popular. And a pre-adolescent girl is generally only occupied with two things: her looks and her popularity.

That first summer we all got on fine. My stepsister let me tag along with her and her friends, but I wasn't ever really accepted into their clique.

It was in September when the trouble started.

I don't remember the first time it happened. I can't remember if it was a gradual escalation or if it just started happening all at once. I just remember the misery.

My stepsister was my bully.

I started middle school with my step-siblings. My stepbrother was in a different class, and my stepsister was in the 8th grade, so we didn't really see much of each other at school. We did, however, live in adjoining neighborhoods, so we did ride the bus together. The morning bus ride to school was always quiet. I think that was the biggest part of the head game - if I had known that I had to start my day in agony, I could have at least prepared for it. But no, there was always that tense 15 minutes at the bus stop, where she and her friends were actually nice to me. They would compliment my hair, how I looked, that song I sung at the school talent show. There was the quiet, uneventful ride to school. There was hope that maybe, just maybe, today wouldn't be like every other day.

It is a cruel person, who knows how to manipulate hope.

The bullying always started on the bus ride home. She and her friends would sit behind me, and make nasty remarks. I was fat/ugly/hairy/worthless/a slut/etc. She talked about my family. Words hurt, but it's easy to get a pair of headphones and tune yourself out. When I did just that, she started getting physical. At first, she'd "accidentally" bump into me. She'd "accidentally" hit me with a textbook. Then she just started hitting me. Her friend actually spit in my hair once.

We got off at two different bus stops, but her friends got off at mine, so I got to walk all the way home with them behind me, shouting. At first it was catty bullshit. Then they threatened to beat my ass. Then they threatened to kill me.

She had a friend who went to the "bad school," and for a while rumors went around that she was going to jump me with a baseball bat. I was terrified to leave my house.

I don't think I'll ever forget those bus rides and those walks home.

Then, as if that weren't enough, she figured out my school schedule.

In sixth grade, we had one bathroom break, where we could take ten minutes of free time. She learned when that was, and always managed to show up in the bathroom during our break. She would pin me to the wall and threaten me. I think the worst part was the humiliation that happened in the bathroom and on the walk home, because it was in front of my friends. The shit on the bus was pretty quiet, and I could deal with that.

My parents tried everything. My mom was all about taking the high road, so I was never allowed to say or do anything back. She told me that if I just held my head up and showed that it didn't affect me, they would stop eventually. I wasn't allowed to fight, because that would get me in trouble with school, and we were a new family and we were trying to make it work and blah blah blah. The school wouldn't do anything, because there was no proof of what happened in the bathroom, and there was no proof of what happened on the bus, and after we got off the bus it wasn't their problem. My stepsister's mom was a harpy viper bitch who refused to even talk to my mother, so that wasn't going to get us anywhere. Desperate, my mom asked my dad to make the 15-hour drive down from Michigan, to pick me up from the bus stop and scare some sense into this girl. My dad is ex-Army and my mom was hoping he'd put on his best drill instructor face. Can I just take a moment to say that my dad is probably the most passive person I know? Clearly that route was a fail.

Because humans are easily influenced by the mob mentality, and because adolescents suck in general, it wasn't long before the other kids caught on. One boy in particular really got into the game. He started like everyone else, shouting at me as I walked home. When he didn't get a response, he started throwing twigs and pine cones at me. That escalated into larger sticks - the biggest was one that was an inch in diameter. Finally, he took an orange out of his lunchbox one afternoon and threw it at me as hard as he could. It hit me in the back of the head with so much force that the entire orange exploded.

As soon as I got home, my stepfather, enraged, dragged me over to his house - orange pulp and all - and made I don't even know what kind of threats to that kid's parents.

It was the one time my stepfather ever stood up for me. Too bad he couldn't stand up to his own daughter on my behalf. I know it isn't the case now, but as an eleven-year old child, that sent the message that, even though I was important enough to save from the neighborhood kids, I wasn't worth saving from her.

I felt so totally crushed by all of it. This girl was supposed to be my sister. These kids were supposed to be my friends. I wanted so badly to be liked by them all, but all they did was hurt me.

After I became an adult, my mom said, "I wish I'd have just let you beat the shit out of her once and have done with it." But because I was never allowed to fight back, I internalized all of the anger. I remember having vivid fantasies of taking a chainsaw to my stepsister's face.

To this day I have a serious anger problem. I feel like Bruce Banner - my anger is a pot that is waiting to boil over at any moment. There are days when I wake up and feel like my chest is going to burst from all the rage. When I get angry, I see red. I want blood. I want to destroy everything in front of me. It scares the shit out of me, that I am this way.

Years later, my stepsister apologized to me. As with most bullies, she externalized her anger and projected her insecurities and frustrations onto another person. She told me that she had been scared; her dad had married a new woman and she was afraid that my family would replace hers. She was just another scared, lonely kid with screwed up parents.

I forgave her. What else was there to do?

Fortunately, the next year she went to high school, and the bullying stopped, for the most part. I got really into music, and did a summer program where I met other artsy kids like me. I was twelve and all of my friends were sixteen - and they liked me for who I was. I also learned that if you're funny, you're usually likable, and likable kids are less likely to get picked on. So I developed a sense of humor. I also learned that if you develop a mean left hook and aren't afraid to break a boy's finger because he tried to grab your ass, that people generally don't fuck with you. So I toughened up.

And now you know how I developed and distilled my particular brand of sarcasm.

But that doesn't erase the pain, or the memories, or the damaging effects. I am a twenty-five year old woman. I am intelligent, educated, accomplished, strong, and attractive. I have a husband who loves me, a family who adores me, my dream job, and an amazing network of friends. And yet, every day I struggle with feelings of worthlessness. I still feel as though I'll never be enough. That no matter what I do, I will never be anything. Because that message was drilled into my head every day for a year.

It still hurts.

It will always hurt.

I pray that my future children will never be the victims of bullying. Let my kid come home with an orange busted on the back of their head. Because the kid that did it - well, I can't really speak to what would happen to him, because just thinking about it makes me see red.

But even more than that, I pray that my future children will never be bullies. Because that thought makes me sick to my stomach. I pray that I can teach my children compassion, and love, and acceptance. I pray that my kids will be the one to befriend that little girl with spit in her hair and blood on her lip. I pray that my kids are stronger than I was, and stronger than my bullies were.

We are here for such a short time, what is there for us but to love one another? And if we can't teach that message to our kids, then really, what are we teaching them?

Happy Hour: I Need Your Input!

2013-04-17T10:03:00.000-07:00

Well, friends, it's time for you to tailor your blog-reading experience! As I'm sure you may well know, I've shaken a few cocktails in my day. And who doesn't love a good cocktail?

So, I thought I'd show you guys how to make some delicious dranks so you can get your drank on. Responsibly, of course. BUT, I don't want to take a stab in the dark and start talking about Old Fashioneds when you are a bunch of bourbon-haters (if you are a bourbon hater, I shake my head in shame and misery on your behalf).

ANYWAY, click on ye olde poll below and let me know what you're interested in seeing/making/drinking! If there's something specific you want to learn how to make, or there's an option not listed (i.e. wine-based cocktails), just leave me a comment!

Now, let's get to pouring, shall we?

Goodbye, Shoes

2013-04-16T11:03:00.001-07:00

Well, shoes, it's been a good run. On Sunday I had to run into the nearest Payless and replace you. I didn't want to. After all, my pinky toes had finally worn their own little holes in you. And those new shoes? They pinch and rub and make my heels numb when I try to drive in them. You're so comfortable, old shoes. I kind of can't bring myself to throw you away yet.

You started talking a few months ago, and now you scream. I didn't really find it inconvenient, unless I stepped in a puddle of fish water and my socks got wet. Only then were you kind of a pain in the ass. You are covered in fish bits and restaurant sludge and God-knows-what. You still have a faint scent of Sprite from that time our soda line blew behind the bar and we waded around in syrup for two days.

Everyone made fun of your velcro, but I always loved the fact I never had to worry about you coming untied. Even after all these years, you still offer the best arch support. I'm honestly amazed there are no holes in your heels.

But it's more than comfort. There's a sentimentality that goes along with you. At the insistence of my old boss, I went out and bought you. I was tired of buying cheap Walmart work shoes, and invested $60 in you. I swore I'd wear you until you fell apart, and I kept true to my word. You were the final step I had to take in order to become a bartender. Yep, my boss wouldn't put me behind the bar until I bought new shoes (the old pair looked a lot like you do now). Bet you didn't know that, did you?

I learned how to bartend in you. I was wearing you when I plucked up the nerve to ask for a promotion. I wore you as I turned myself into a better employee, a better manager. I wore you as I learned how to become a professional adult.

I've grown so much while wearing you, shoes.

I can only hope these new toe-pinching, heel-slipping, unbroken-in shoes will carry me as far, if not farther, than you did. I hope that someday, when I throw them away, I can look back at a thousand positive memories, the way I do you. I hope that those are the shoes I wear while I train to be a salaried member. I hope someday I have to throw them away, because a restaurant partner should have new shoes.

I hope I continue to grow, and learn, and evolve in this crazy restaurant industry. I hope I continue to grow and learn as a person, wife, friend.

And I swear to keep you in the trunk of my car, in case that Friday night rolls around when I just can't take it any more and have to change back into you. At least until these new shoes are broken in.

Oh Snap, It's Friday

2013-04-12T08:35:00.000-07:00

Um... WHERE did the week go!? Seriously, I'd like Tuesday back, please. Wednesday, you sort of sucked, so you can just stay gone.

Maybe it's just me, but every time I open Photoshop, all of my time gets sucked into this vortex.

Here's what I've been working on:

It's going to be awesome when it's finished. The only problem? I'm pretty well-versed in CSS, and I've been doing customized blog layouts for twelve years.

But I've never installed a website outside of a blogging platform.

Here's hoping it's easier than I think.

Well, at least the header is badass. Also, I've gotten more familiar with the Gradient Overlay than anyone should ever be.

Happy weekend, kids!

Tartan Day

2013-04-08T08:03:00.004-07:00

Hey lovers! Hope all of you had a fantastic weekend! As for me, I found some time between yard work and real work to attend... yep.... Tartan Day.

If you're wondering what Tartan Day is, it's pretty self-explanatory. It's basically an excuse for a bunch of people to wear plaid. And celebrate their Scottish heritage. But really, you can't really wear a kilt to the mall, so I'm pretty sure that's why they came up with Tartan Day.

There were reenactments, shortbread, and a 180-lb Irish wolfhound named Seamus. Who I did not get a picture of, which is really a shame, because that dog was taller than I was.

There was also this dude. Who is the coolest kid ever. I mean seriously, what kid gets excited and clapping every time someone fires a flintlock musket? Every time I see my friends' son I get serious baby fever.

Yeah, that's me. In a kilt. Concrete proof I am a super nerd. I kind of love it.

An Organized Linen Closet

2013-04-05T09:34:00.001-07:00

You thought I couldn't do it. Go ahead, admit it. We alllll know Pinterest makes this crap look too easy. It's okay, I thought I couldn't do it. But I did!

I'm talking about my linen closet, of course. As if you couldn't tell the subject of this post by the title.

I'll admit, the task seemed pretty daunting at first.

Ugh. Just... don't even get me started on WHY we've been living like this for the last 16 months. I didn't even bother to take pictures of the shitpile that was our guest room closet. Basically it looked just like this, with some suitcases and old prom dresses thrown in for flavor. Just know that Ryan and I both have the packrat gene (hello, future stars of Hoarding: Buried Alive!), and both run around the house in a fury shoving shit into closets right before people come over. Not a very efficient system.

Of course the only way to start was to pull everything out and sort it all.

Ryan and I both had full size beds during our single days, and have since upgraded to a queen. OF COURSE we only have one set of sheets for our master bed. OF COURSE we have FIVE bedding sets for a full size! It was definitely time to downsize the bedding.

Just as I was wondering how I was going to shove all that crap back into our tiny closet, I had a total "duh" moment. That dresser. Was empty. Has been, in fact, since we moved in last December. Commence forehead smacking on the wall now.

I kept two sets of sheets for the guest bed, as well as two different bedding sets, to change things up. Those are kept in the dresser now, which really makes changing the sheets quick and easy.

Pillow covers and extra curtains get their own drawer, as well as tea towels and table linens. This makes it super easy to shop my house for textiles when I want to change up a look.

One extra set of bedding is kept in the guest closet with a spare pillow and our air mattress. We actually have guests over almost every weekend (I seem to have become the designated driver for the entire crew of the aircraft carrier Ryan is stationed on), and on Sunday mornings you'll often find the guest bed occupied, the air mattress taking up spare floor space, and someone curled up on our couch. Having spare bedding is pretty essential around here.

And the linen closet itself?

It's pretty spartan compared to how it looked. Ryan and I each have a shelf for our own towels (we definitely own more than four - Laundry Day is a perfect time to organize a closet of linens), and the top shelf holds a couple spare blankets for the couch sleepers.

The new baskets hold my Turbie Twists/hand towels and Ryan's washcloths, respectively. Our beach towels are now stowed in our beach bag, at the ready for warmer days.

And yes, I put a reed diffuser in there.

Yes, I know it seems so ridiculous and completely superfluous. Yes, all those beautiful but totally non-functional closets on Pinterest have one. But that's NOT why I did it.

You see, our linen closet STANK. I'm not sure what kind of people lived here before us, but I'm pretty sure they weren't very clean. I don't even want to get into how grimy this place was when we moved in. There is nothing so offensive as living in someone else's dirt. Some of the carpet had been replaced before we moved in, and it was all professionally cleaned. The entire house has been repainted. I've baking soda-ed, bleached, Mr. Clean-ed, and Febreez-ed every spare inch of this space. And still our linen closet smelled like dog.

For all you fellow dog owners, you know how it feels to walk into your own dog-smelling home. But when you walk into someone else's dog-smelling home, it's like an assault on your nostrils. It's kind of how new parents are always sure that no kid will ever be as cute/smart/perfect as theirs. No dog will ever stink less than my own mutt. And the smell in that closet was super concentrated. To the point that if you left any linens in there too long they would take on the odor.

I'm fully convinced these people were horribly abusive and left a rat terrier locked away in there. That's the only conceivable way that closet have retained such a stench for so long.

After less than 48 hours with a reed diffuser in there, the mysterious canine scent has now been replaced with Organic Water Pixie Fart. Or whatever scent it was I bought.

So there you have it, friends! Now to find something else to attack with a scrub brush. Have a fantastic weekend!

I'm Not Really Sure How to Classify This

2013-04-03T06:33:00.001-07:00

I don't know whether to feel awesome because my nail polish unintentionally matched my outfit:

(I was very proud of this, as you can tell by the weird, smug little smile on my face)

Or awkward because it ALSO unintentionally matched my toothpaste...

Before you think I'm colorblind, that toothpaste photographed really blue. It is, in fact, the EXACT same shade as my nail polish.

Let's just call this one a tie, shall we?

I've Got Spring Cleaning on the Brain

2013-04-01T10:26:00.000-07:00

Maybe it's the sudden rise in temperature. Maybe it's the fact that Ryan has all week off and plans to clean the gutters (gasp!). Maybe the cobwebs in my window screens stopped looking cool after Halloween. Or maybe I'm just tired of shit everywhere.

In any case, I've got the organizing bug, and I've got biiiiiig plans for this week.

Linen closet, you are first on my hit list.

When I moved out on my own, I inherited a mish mash of linens from well-meaning family members. Then I ended up collecting even more on my own. Then Ryan and I moved in together and added his collection of stuff. THEN we had a friend get out of the Navy and supply us with HIS old linens.

We've got towels, sheets, comforters, and more taking up THREE CLOSETS in our house! THREE!

The linen closet looks like a laundromat got murdered in there and I don't even want to talk about the guest room.

But Pinterest has come in handy again with some inspiration:

via

And after that? The bathroom.

via

My goal is to get all of this done this week. (Yeah, right!) But I can try, right? I guess my biggest obstacle is the fact that I need to buy organizational bins and such, and we're pretty tight on money right now. But that just means that I'll have to avoid Target and hit up the Dollar Store for storage solutions. But Target has such cute bins! (Insert whiny voice here).

Spring Cleaning Goals:

- Organize/purge linen closet

- Organize/purge guest room closet

- Fix guest closet hanging rod

- Organize hall bath under-sink cabinet

- Organize hall bath medicine cabinet

- Organize master bath under-sink cabient

- Organize master bath medicine cabinet

- Photograph it all so I can do a Before & After post

Anyone else out there have Spring Cleaning on the brain? Have you tackled any big organization projects before? I could definitely use some tips!

We've Got Too Much Time on Our Paws

2013-03-29T06:58:00.000-07:00

So I spend most of my spare time at home. With my dog. Alone. Sometimes, I like to video the boredom.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who sounds like a three-year old when talking to their pets?
I need something to do during the day other than film Bear acting like a maniac post-bath.

Have a happy weekend friends!

That Time Ryan Came With Me to the Grocery Store

2013-03-27T14:11:00.000-07:00

In the early days of our relationship, Ryan used to go grocery shopping with me. Mostly because I suck at grocery shopping. Now that I have a total handle on this (ha!), Ryan refuses to attend the grocery store, despite my begging. I hate, hate, hate grocery shopping, and just want someone to suffer through the experience with me.

Well, yesterday he came home early and after a lunch outing I conned him into joining me at the commissary. And it's a dang good thing he did, because afterwards we went to the package store (the on-base liquor store). As we were walking out I saw an empty liquor display that said "Free! Please Take With You!" I jokingly asked if he wanted a liquor store display for our house.

Well, he did.

Bam! Look at that puppy! It's solid wood and heavy. We've got plans to remove the logo from the shelf fronts and base so it looks more like salvaged, stacked barrels than a store display. But our liquor bottles and glassware have already made themselves a happy home there. And we've got a bunch of friends and family members asking if they can have it.

I told Ryan on the (very uncomfortable) ride home that I always read about bloggers who find cool stuff in random places, and how I'm never that person. Well guess what? I just joined the "I found cool shit fo' free" club.

Feels pretty good. ;)

Advertising: Who Doesn't Love Free Stuff?

2013-03-25T00:00:00.000-07:00

Hey friends! So after thinking long and hard about this, I've decided to further open up My Semi Grownup Life to the blogging community. Even though my most avid reader is still my husband (love you boo!), it's been really fun sponsoring Jessica and Erin this month. Mostly I love seeing new names and faces popping up in my comments section.

I like to think that I'm making new friends. :)

Well, I'd like to continue making new friends, but because I'm not six anymore I can't knock on your door and ask you to come play My Little Ponies with me in my back yard. And as an adult and a blogger, I know how intimidating it is to approach random strangers about sponsorship. So instead, I'm going to offer an ad swap!

For the month of April, I'm giving away FIVE 200x100 sidebar ads. All you have to do is visit my Advertise page to see the details. I want to get to know you guys. I want to tell the world how awesome you are. I wanna be fwends. Can we be fwends? I'll even rustle up some of those My Little Ponies (because I'm pretty sure I still have some in my attic).

I can't wait to get the opportunity to work with you!

Five Things

2013-03-21T07:43:00.004-07:00

For everyone stopping by from Jessica's blog today, welcome! I've seen the "Five Things" post floating around blogland, and what better way to introduce myself than to throw out five random facts about the weirdest person I know (me)? So, here goes:

one. I am so not good at having my picture taken. Seriously, a camera-shy blogger? I can just see how this is going to turn out... I have about five pictures of me that I don't hate, the other ones feature crossed eyes, a mouth half-open, a double chin I didn't know I had, or just a general look of dumbassery. Also, I feel like a total fool whenever I try to take a self portrait. How do people overcome camera shyness even when they're the only one in the room? Is there a support group for that?

two. I've been playing drums and percussion for fifteen years. Don't let Jessica's casual "Oh yeah, she's in a band" fool you, because I am not cool. I never did the rock band thing (which is what everyone assumes when I tell them I'm a drummer). In fact, I studied jazz in college, and focused more on vibes than I did drum set. I even arranged and got to lead a big band tune my last semester. The band I'm in now? It's a bag pipe band. As in, old guys wearing kilts and being totally adorable while I bang away like Animal the Muppet on a field snare. Yes, I have a kilt. No, there aren't any pictures of me in it (yet). Yes, it is AWESOME! Told you, I am so not cool.

three. I have the foulest mouth of anyone you've probably ever met. I dial it back (way back) on ye olde blog here, because I like to think that my anonymous readers think I'm a classy broad and I have an image to keep up. Also, I think we all know that the f-bomb is so much classier dropped in person than it is in writing. But don't let me fool you. I'm pretty well-versed in the four letter words. Especially when I'm stuck in traffic.

four. I've been married twice. To the same guy. My husband, Ryan, and I eloped last December in a moment of insanity (or maybe it was a moment of lucidity?). We didn't have an actual wedding with friends and family until nearly a year later. Don't worry, it confused all of my coworkers and acquaintances when I started sending out invitations. "Wait, aren't you already married?" Truth be told? As great as our wedding was, if I had it to do all over again, I think I'd just stick with the elopement. Weddings are stressful, man.

five. I can lick my elbow. True story. I got one of those stupid emails freshman year of high school that said it was physically impossible to lick your elbow, and that 98% of the people who read that email would try it. Well, I tried, and succeeded. Turns out I'm pretty flexible in the old shoulder joints, and I have a 3.5-inch long tongue. Don't judge me, you know you'd measure that thing too if you found out you could lick your elbow.

Well, those are the five least lame things I can tell you about myself. Thank you so much for stopping by!

If Spring Would Decide to Show Its Face Around Here

2013-03-19T12:08:00.001-07:00

I would wear this dress

with this belt

and these shoes.

And no outfit is complete without a little sparkle, so how about this bracelet

and this necklace to top it all off?

As soon as the daily high tops 48 degrees, I'm totally buying all of these pieces. C'mon, Spring!

Climbing Ladders

2013-03-18T10:23:00.000-07:00

I debated about talking about this on the blog. I decided a long time ago that I really wasn't going to talk about work on the internet. That means Facebook and this space. This decision was originally made because I was really unhappy at work and there was a lot of work drama that was crossing over into my personal life, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the internet only exacerbates drama.

I've mentioned a couple times that I've been part of a total turn-around in my work life and I am SO. DANG. HAPPY! Basically, my old manager and mentor got a promotion and is now the proprietor of her own store, and I transferred to said store in order to keep learning from her and be more utilized in my position (I split my time between being a bartender and assistant manager). I feel like I have a voice at work, that I have ideas - good ones! In the last two months, we've been movin' and shakin' in this restaurant, and it's not even close to the store I walked into two months ago. I wake up every day super excited to go to work.

I never expected to fall in love with the restaurant industry. I went to college for music, and fully expected to do that for the rest of my life. I've been playing music since I was nine years old (holy crap, that's almost seventeen years now!), and when I graduated high school, decided to major in music because it was the only thing I knew how to do. And because my mom thought it was a pretty terrible idea. You were right, Mom. You were right.

I threw myself into school. Between classes, lessons, private practice sessions, rehearsals, performances, etc., I was pulling 14-hour days. I burned out in about 2.5 years. I got really depressed about school. I saw all my friends developing into amazing musicians, and I didn't even have the energy to lift a drum stick. I was overwhelmed by guilt about my lack of desire to succeed. But I plugged away, determined to earn a forty-thousand dollar piece of paper. It took me seven years, but I did it. I'm not really sure how or why, but I'm glad I did it.

During this time, one of my fraternity sisters was serving at a restaurant. I was twenty years old, needed a job, and had some experience in the food industry. She suggested I come in and fill out an application, and the next day I was sitting in an interview. I quickly became "the hostess with the mostest" (okay, I may have given myself that title), and about six months later, started waiting tables.

I was never really into work. I was just giving people shrimp and beer in an effort to pay my rent. I felt better than the "lifers," the people who had been waiting tables for ten years. I was getting a degree. I was getting out of this place. This place kind of sucked, and I didn't want to stay here. I was going to be a famous concert percussionist. I had a pretty shitty attitude when I walked in the door every day.

I'm not really sure when the change happened. I think it was about six months after I started bartending. All of a sudden, I found myself lying in bed at night thinking about ways things could be run smoother, more efficiently. I started taking new servers under my wing. I got interested in the mechanics of running a restaurant. I became passionate about this company's culture. I started noticing how other restaurants ran when I went out to eat. I started making mental lists of things I would do differently or the same. I started to get passionate about this fast-paced, stressful, ever-evolving world.

I owe a lot of this to Ryan. He went into the blue collar world straight out of high school, and like most people who don't have a degree, they see it as this magical piece of paper who opens up a glowing gate to six figure salaries (Ha! If only they worked that way!). At the beginning of our relationship, he was constantly pushing me to go to class. To write that paper. To get my ass off the couch and practice. He was also constantly saying things like "You're too good/smart/talented to bartend and wait tables for the rest of your life." "When are they going to make you a manager in that place?" "All you do is talk about work."

Slowly, an idea started to take form in the back of my mind. I kept it quiet for a good six months. For those of you who know me in real life, you know how many times I changed my career goals during those long seven years of academia. I just didn't know what I wanted to do. My whole life, I was good at everything, but not GREAT at any one thing. I was adrift in a world of opportunity.

For six months, I guarded this little idea. I held it close. I didn't even tell Ryan about it until about a week before I approached my manager. "I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I want to take my key test." That sentence has changed my life. It was an affirmation to others as well as to myself that I had finally figured out what I want to do with my life. "I want to own my own restaurant." I want to spend fifty hours a week on my feet, tearing my hair out, babysitting hostesses. I want to crunch numbers until one in the morning. I want to get others as excited about wine and basil as I am. I want to do this.

Fast forward five years from that first interview. On Thursday, I sat across a table from my boss's boss and talked. I talked about my strengths, my weaknesses, my hobbies. I talked about my goals - "I want to be ready to take my manager test in a year." We talked about all the things I was learning and working on. We talked about the unique demands of this career. All the late nights, long days, and stress. And then, I head the words "I want you to take your test in six months. I know it's not a year, but I think you can do it."

What the what!? I feel like I got smacked with a big old dose of happy. Four days later and it still feels surreal. I feel like that little idea that I planted and loved and nurtured and guarded has suddenly bloomed. And the possibilities it implies are endless.

And so I'm plunging head-first into schedule writing, profit and loss charts, customer satisfaction scores, and every other myriad and minute detail that goes into this. For the next six months, I am going to learn everything that I can. I have six months, and then, hopefully, I take the next step toward my passion. Toward what I have finally realized what it is I am meant to do.

Goodbye, GFC

2013-03-16T11:58:00.001-07:00

Follow my blog with Bloglovin!

As I'm sure most of you have heard, Google is getting rid of Google Reader (and therefore Google Friend Connect) on July 1st. So, lovelies, hop on over to Bloglovin'! You can import all the blogs from your Google Reader with ONE CLICK and the platform is really easy to use.

Hope to see you there!

Sometimes

2013-03-14T10:11:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, you just need to take a night off.

A night to drink fancy French wine. A night to realize you like un-fancy Australian wine more.

A night to make burger sliders, with the help of your husband. A night to just hang out, put your feet up, and not go to band practice, or worry about work.

A night to snuggle on the couch and eat frozen yogurt.

I really like sometimes.

Green Smoothie Goodness

2013-03-12T10:49:00.001-07:00

Green smoothies have been popping up all over Pinterest and blogland for a while now, but I thought I'd just throw this one out there with the rest of them. Better late than never, right?

If you're still on the fence about the green smoothie trend, just jump in and try it! Seriously, if you don't like it, at least you can use the leftover ingredients to make a killer salad. Win-win, right? For the record, totally just typed "win-wine" at first. Freudian slip?

What you're going to need:

- One sliced and frozen banana (I like to buy a bunch and come home and slice them up and freeze them in plastic bags so I have them ready to go)

- 5-6 chunks of pineapple (Do I even need to tell you to use fresh pineapple and stay away from that canned crap? No, I didn't think so.)

- Generous handful of baby spinach leaves

- 2 to 3 coconut milk ice cubes

- 1/2 to 1 c. coconut milk (adjust to get a consistency you like)

- Small handful of UNSALTED, roasted almonds. Don't use the salted ones. Just... don't.

When blending, I've found that putting the spinach on the bottom of the blender and layering on the fresh ingredients and topping off with the frozen works out the best.

I love this smoothie as a post-workout or midday snack. So light and refreshing, and the pineapple masks any grassiness from the spinach.

And yes, I drink my smoothies out of a beer glass. In fact, that is my exclusive smoothie glass. I won't use any other. No, I am not a weirdo (okay maybe I am), the glass has a convenient half pint line which makes measuring out liquid easy. And I can just pretend I'm drinking my favorite Double Chocolate Stout while downing green drank.

In My Library: What Alice Forgot

2013-03-11T07:32:00.002-07:00

Friends, I think it's just time I came out and said it - I have a serious addiction. To heroin.

Kidding! I'm not at all skinny enough to be a junkie. I'm addicted to books. Which is way safer but probably pretty close to heroin in the wrecking-personal-time-management department.

My apologies to any junkies out there who just read this and got offended.

ANYWAY, I've finished yet another book and thought I'd share.

I picked up Liane Moriarty's What Alice Forgot on a whim. I've been seriously engrossed in the Outlander series (which I've talked about before), and tossed this into the shopping basket when I was at Barnes & Noble to get book three. Yeah, I'm probably the only person who doesn't get their books from Amazon. I love going into a bookstore and spending my whole day wandering the aisles. Another addiction maybe?

Back to the point... What Alice Forgot is set in Sydney, Australia in 2008. A woman falls and hits her head at the gym and wakes up thinking she's 29, pregnant with her first child, and blissfully married to the love of her life. Reality? She's 39, has three kids, and is in the middle of a divorce. Womp. Alice has no memory whatsoever of the last ten years of her life, and apparently, she's become sort of a bitch because everyone she knows and loves kind of can't stand her. So of course, she has to start piecing her life back together. Interspersed with the story is her sister's "homework" for her shrink, and letters from her grandmother to a mysterious man named Phil.

I really love the way Moriarty just tosses the reader into the situation without any backstory. Usually this kind of thing annoys me, but she is able to make you feel present in the story.

I wasn't all that sure how I felt about this book when I started it, but it was one of those stories that pull you in and before you know it you can't put it down. It really made me think about my own life and marriage too. Ryan and I do NOT have the perfect marriage, and we've been through some struggles lately. This story put a lot of things in perspective for me - the big things in a relationship that we should never lose sight of (but so easily can), and the little things that slowly add up to big things. Is it possible this book made me love Ryan more? I think so. It has definitely made me more conscious of the little snips and hurtful things we do to each other. Not conscious in a way that makes me angrier, but conscious in a way that makes me want to stop them. To protect this fragile thing Ryan and I hold between us.

It scares the shit out of me, but I want more than ever to experience this other kind of love Alice describes (you'll know what I mean by the end of the book), and that's something I didn't realize until I read this. Funny how art imitates life, eh?

High Five for Friday!

2013-03-08T10:32:00.003-08:00

Is it just me, or did this week fly by? For real, slow down, week. There's no rush here. Can we also talk for a minute about the fact that Friday is NOT the start of my weekend? For example, I have a bar clean/meeting tomorrow from 11 am - 1 pm, then I work from 5:30 to midnight. Sunday is a noon to nine workday. Woohoo. C'mon, Tuesday! Mama's ready for a day off just thinking about my upcoming schedule.

Nonetheless, I'm really digging this weekly recap. I love finding little things throughout my week to appreciate and love. And this was a good week, kiddos.

one. Last night's sunset over the James River. I've lived here for twenty one years, and I will never, ever get tired of sunsets over the water. Definitely one of the biggest perks of this area.

two. I started Level 2 of the 30 Day Shred this week! And it is kicking. my. butt. And yes, I keep track of my workouts with colored dot stickers. Don't judge. I like colors. And office supplies. And sentence fragments.

three. New shoes! They're from Minnetonka and are probably going to replace my Toms as my daily shoe of choice. Seriously, I feel like I'm walking around in my house slippers. Love, love, love.

four. Also, new dish soap! Please tell me I'm not the only one who gets excited about cleaning supplies. But for real, how beautiful is that label? I'm a total sucker for pretty packaging.

five. Ryan and I went to the In Flames concert last night. Ryan is a total metal-head and I'm, well.... not. Seriously, my choice of music leans toward acoustic folk and bluegrass. It's been about ten years since I've been to a hardcore concert, and I actually had a ton of fun. The band was awesome, and I loved watching Ryan jump around and sing at the top of his lungs. Also, a couple beers and I'll like pretty much any kind of music.

Hope all you 9-5ers have a great and relaxing weekend! And if you work the whacky hours like I do, I hope you still find some time for fun! Also, don't for get to link up with Lauren with your top five moments of this week!

Day 10!

2013-03-06T09:15:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was day ten of my 30-Day Shred. Being the highly categorical person that I am, I decided to spend ten days on each of the three levels. And holy crap, talk about feeling a difference from that first day!

I was barely able to get through the 20-minute workout (and trust me, there are days I'm still strugglin'), but my endurance has increased a lot. Oh, AND I can do a PUSH-UP! Maybe that's only exciting for me? Whatever, totally couldn't do a push-up ten days ago.

Please ignore everything unflattering about this picture (including my incredibly messy bedroom) and focus on that little line that's starting to show up on the side of my abs!

Baby guns! I haven't had a curve in my bicep since high school.

Soo... stats....

Weight: 153.8 lbs

Bust: 37.5"

Waist: 28.5"

Hips: 44"

Bicep: 12"

Thigh: 24"

I feel like my stats are depressingly deceptive. I didn't expect to drop 15 lbs and a bunch of inches in 10 days. And I haven't. In fact, I'm up a pound and a half, and all of my measurements are basically the same. I've gained a half inch in my bicep and lost half an inch in my waist (the one part of me that I didn't think would get any smaller!).

But I feel so much different! I've been gaining definition in my arms, my quadriceps are getting really firm. My abs are also really starting to tighten up. When I release my ab muscles, my stomach doesn't just poof out into a gut. It just.... stays the same. That is a damn good feeling.

My diet has taken a drastic change too. I feel like that deserves a post of its own so I won't go too deep into it here. But I have a lot more energy, and my metabolism has revved into gear.

Today I started Level 2 and holy shit, a lot harder than I expected! I was drenched in sweat before the first five minutes were up. I'm a little bit in love with you, Jillian.

An End in Sight

2013-03-05T16:09:00.000-08:00

Proof that this winter is not, in fact, endless