My mom got me this cool Boho Bandeau scarf thing for Christmas. It’s one of those multi-purpose type deals that came with a list of all the ways to wear it. While some of them are cute, some are questionable at best. Cooper was all, woah, you can NOT pull that one off. I hope you aren’t planning to wear it that way when you take me out for a walk. Because now that he’s all popular on instagram he apparently “has a reputation to uphold”. So I decided to bring him in the the action and play a little Who Wore It Better!
I am a God Damn Warrior. At least that is what I tell myself on a regular basis. I even had it tattooed on my wrist in the form on an arrow. Many often think it has to do with quotes and whatnot about arrows and how in life we sometimes have to go back in order to shoot forward. That’s all fine and good but not why I got my ink. My arrow is warrior ink. It reminds me that I am strong and capable of so much more than I give myself credit for. It reminds me that I am resilient and not easily broken (even when I feel broken). It reminds me to fight when the good fight needs fighting.
I have been thinking a lot about this new year. It’s a new calendar year, but it’s also a new semester. I went to school today and felt very much on this side of the break. I have rounded a corner and this is the side where everything changes. A year and a half ago my life was hijacked and sucked into a vortex of exhaustion and teaching and I have spent this fall reclaiming it.
It feels so good! It feels sounding of barbaric yawps kind of good and I think Walt Whitman would be proud.
I have resolved not to stay at work past 4pm (I get there at 6:30am) or take any work home. I started doing yoga and I joined a pop ukulele band with Girl Guitar (one of my favorite finds in this great city). I am planning events and writing and I have music playing ALL THE TIME. The mood boosting playlists on Spotify? Amazing!
I used that think that at a certain point life would start getting easy. Maybe it will someday, but I doubt it. I am ok with that. Life is worth fighting for. Happiness is worth fighting for. And sometimes a fight is necessary. Sometimes Warrior Mode is what it takes to make the Univers stop and realize I mean business!
Because I do.
(let’s out loud warrior yell!!)
OK, so I know I just posted about how I am not a lifestyle blogger, but the social medias have been especially buzzing about coconut oil uses lately and as that is one of the few trends that I’m actually sort of all over, I figured I would share my thoughts.
I’ve been on the coconut oil train for quite some time now. A while back a friend did a month where she went all paleo and I thought that sounded pretty extreme, but she kept gushing about coconut oil so I decided to try it (the coconut oil, not the paleo–woah). I’m gonna level with you. I don’t notice a single bit of difference using it in my cooking. I kind of use it interchangeably with canola oil, olive oil and earth butter depending on the situation (I usually choose butter, obviously).
What I do use it for regularly is as a moisturizer. I keep it in my bathroom and apply it after showering. I have always struggled with grossly dry skin and coconut oil is amazing! There’s no trick to it either. I just reach in and scoop some out and apply it to my skin. It’s usually hardened because it stays cool in my dark cupboard, so I will rub it around in my hands for a hot sec to warm it up. If I am in need of a good exfoliation I’ll put some in a small bowl with a bunch of raw cane sugar or coffee grounds and BAM, homemade exfoliant! Pinterest likes to tell you that there is a “recipe” for such things and that you need to “measure” it. Lies. Just find something gritty and mix it with oil and rub it on your skin. Done.
One thing that you will need to do if you decide to go all coconut oil in your life is to have one designated for your kitchen and one designated for your bathroom where you are constantly reaching your hand into it to scoop some out. AND NO, I HAVE NEVER MAYBE RUN OUT OF KITCHEN COCONUT OIL AND USED SOME FROM MY BATHROOM STASH. THAT WOULD BE DISGUSTING….obviously……
It also makes a great moisturizer for hair. I will Danny Zuko up my hair with a handful of oil while I am fixing dinner or something and then shower a few hours later. It gives it great volume and shine and keeps it super healthy!
I can’t speak for the whole “Coconut Pulling” trend. I saw that once on Pinterest and I was all, WHAT? Coconut oil makes taffy too???!!? Because that is the obvious conclusion that I like to think most people jump to when they see coconut pulling. Except noo. Apparently it means swishing around the oil in your mouth so as to “magically get rid of all cavities” or something. Ew. Gross. That’s what Listerine is for. ALSO EVERY TOOTHPASTE EVER. 5 of 5 dentists agree with me.
Also, since this totally feels like a lifestyle blogger post: I buy organic coconut oil for my cooking and the cheapest kind I can find for everything else. My hair can go organic when I am rich….someday….
Dear Gwen Stefani,
Why haven’t you aged? I went to a 90’s dance party the other night and as I was grunged out in my oversize flannel and getting jiggy on the dance floor, your Just A Girl video came on and my friend and I stopped mid-Carlton and stared up at the screen. You haven’t changed. At all! I mean, I’d noticed over the years that you always look gorgeous and like you could kick my ass, but dang girl!
I wish I could assume that you are like a Kardashian and airbrush yourself before you even leave the house each day but you probably don’t. You probably don’t even air brush yourself AFTER you leave the house! Anyway, I just wanted to say well done. May we all have your abs and kick as much ass 20 years down the road.
Actual text from a boy:
I know you aren’t into casual sex, but how about casual cuddling?
And that’s why I am still single.
I have generally had a pretty good sense of my life and where it was headed. I mean, I didn’t have any of the details (AT ALL), but sort of a rough table of contents.
Chapter 1: Be a kid (climb a lot of trees and play with dolls)
Chapter 2: The Student Years (go to high school, college, graduate school)
Chapter 3: Miss G (be kick ass teacher)
Chapter 4: … (unsure)
I have never gone into a year with as much uncertainty as I am with 2015. I quit the job that I thought would be my forever career and I am entering a field that is so much less defined than anything I have attempted before. There’s no specific application or place where I could even submit one for the job of Aggressively Successful Blogger (I have decided to add “aggressively successful” every time I tell people I am going to be a writer because it makes me sound more confident). Hell, I don’t even know what that job actually looks like.
Alice once said that If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there. So I am going to take all the roads and find out what the destination is when I arrive. I am terrified and excited! 2015, you will be exciting for sure!
Cheers to Chapter 4: Adventure (of the best kind!)
Quitting my job and then coming home for the holidays is a lot like being a senior in college or high school. It’s a practice in being constantly inundated with, “So what are you going to do next?” It is as overwhelming now as it was then and despite my alphabet’s worth of plans, I don’t have an actual definitive answer. I do not have a job lined up at (fill in company here) where I will be (insert skill here). I know that I don’t want to teach, at least for a while, though that hasn’t stopped many from offering up teaching suggestions. That’s so nice of you, I say and then with an extra chest puff of confidence, but I am actually hoping to be a writer!
“OH THAT IS SO WONDERFUL!” everyone has said. And it is usually especially boisterous as it is the holidays and cocktails are close at hand. “How will that work exactly?”
And that is where my confidence deflates a bit and I swig my own close-at-hand cocktail and respond, Well, I’m not exactly sure.
Because the truth is, I have NO idea how to become a writer. At. All.
I have fantasies that blogging on this site, mixed with a bit of freelance will be my future, but even that is filled with so many unknowns. For starters, I don’t even know what category in which to put this blog and everyone from facebook to bloglovin wants me to fit into a nice easy category. I’m not a travel writer and my other site is for writing about music. I have no offspring so I can’t be a mommy blogger. I am not well versed in tech or the news or have a cat who looks disgruntled all the time. I think that crappy diner coffee is THE BEST especially when served in a beige ceramic mug! I am clearly not a foodie. That leaves “lifestyle blogger” which as far as I can tell means clothing, beauty, craft and diy advice.
I would be a terrible lifestyle blogger. My style is about sundresses or flannel depending on the season. My two favorite stores are Anthropologie and LLBean. I own fewer shoes than anyone I know. My makeup routine involves a quick brush of powder foundation and some mascara. Blush and eye liner for special occasions. I have no need for DIY crafts because I live in a minuscule apartment and I don’t like having a lot of things. I can’t even be a minimalist blogger because the entirety of my advice is “don’t own shit.” I have no household tips that I didn’t learn from The Hip Girl’s Guide To Homemaking or from buying the most potent chemical agent available because I am light green about the environment at best.
What I can give you is a little anecdote about inviting a gentleman over only to have our romantical activities interrupted by a giant cockroach running laps in my kitchen light. Incidentally, it was with this same fella that more romantical activities were interrupted by an embarrassing display of my lactose intolerance. But that story is for the book I am writing. Oh yeah. I’m writing a book.
I have never fit into categories well and since I refuse to tell you about all the things you can do with old discarded wooden pallets, apparently neither does this blog.
But that’s ok and I am going to trust that you will continue to enjoy my anecdotes about Tinder dating and exploring the world outside my comfort zone despite my lack of defined future or category. Some of us (and our blogs) are not meant for definitive answers. I will cross my fingers and hope you will be so kind as to pass this along and share it with your nearest and dearest if you find me entertaining. I hope you will subscribe to my vlog on which I will strive to bring your moderately entertaining snipits. I have lots of ridiculousness in store for you both here and there as soon as the holidays are over. Like my own life, the vlog is a work in progress but I’m figuring it out.
I am sorry that I cannot help you arrange a great outfit, craft the best holiday ornaments or apply your makeup like a Kardashian. There are so many amazing ladies out there doing that and you should follow them, though I don’t think any of you need to look like a Kardashian. What I will give you is a glimpse of the edge of life and adventure as I stand with my toes dangling and wondering what is going to catch me at the bottom when I jump.
Because here goes.
I posted recently on Twitter that I don’t get the whole egg nog thing. It’s weird tasting and has actual egg in it! GROSS! As it turns out, there are many out there like myself who have never quite jumped on board the egg nog train. I like to think we’re the same people who prefer our lattes sans pumpkin spice too.
Except last night I decided to try once more. I was at my aunt’s Solstice party and it looked so festive and tempting, so I poured myself some and at the advice of my wonderful tweeters, plenty of bourbon. It. Was. Delicious. It was so creamy and sweet, but not overwhelming. I sipped it with delight.
Down the rabbit hole I have fallen because today I ordered not one, but TWO egg nog lattes and am figuring out how to procure a vehicle so I can hit up the dairy and buy it by the gallon.
This is why I have never tried drugs…