Flannel and a Truth Bomb

Jeans, Shoes & Earrings: CRIV (formerly Lotus), Shirt: Vestique,  Glasses: Versona

Couple of random musings...

#1. Do you ever put on an outfit thinking it looks fine and then see a picture of yourself and change your mind? Like... "uhhhh hmmmm?? Nah". When I see these photos I can't help but think that I look like I belong in a Farmer'sOnly.com commercial. You know the one I'm talking about right? With that jingle, "You don't have to be lonely... at Farmer's Only.com".  I look like my name should be, Daisy.  Like I should have a piece of straw hanging out of my mouth twirling a pigtail sitting on the back of a flat bed truck. It must be the red plaid and jeans combo. NOT feeling it. These shoes kind of save me though. They are more Lady Gaga than Old McDonald. 

#2. Look at that 2nd photo. These lashes, yo?!?!? They look friggin' fake. I keep my side business off of my blog for the most part, but ya'll?!?! This Lash Boost (it's a vitamin serum) is THE TRUUUUUUUTH. Man almighty. I love this shit. I've been using the same tube since October and these mamajammas are insane in the membrane.

#3. Isn't it funny how getting older changes us in ways that are almost undetectable? It isn't until something jumps out at us that we realize that we have matured in some area? Music for example. Some of the dog shit on the radio right now has me saying.... "Man, music that is played on the radio these days is trash." Or scrolling Facebook and seeing posts from people in their 20's constantly talking about drinking. Boasting about hangovers and the amount of alcohol they consumed over the course of a weekend. I roll my eyes, shake my head and pray for their liver (while muttering something under my breath about doing something more productive with their time and money). Drinking is social, fun in moderation, (and has been a part of some pretty epic nights of my own), but there is nothing attractive about someone who drinks all of the time (and posts about it). I have never once heard while talking to my guy or girlfriends.... "You know what I'm looking for in a life partner? Alcoholism and a pot belly."  Or people who air their dirty laundry online. Dear gawd. Fights with their partners or complaining about their exes. We all have fights, and most of us have exes who have hurt or pissed us off. Chill. Social media is not the place. Oh... before one of you gets on my ass about people posting what they want to, and social media being the only outlet a lot of people have, I know this. I'm simply stating my opinion. As I get older the more I truly believe in The Law of Attraction. Call it malarkey if you want to, but if you're constantly drowning your sorrows, posting about your frustrations and your life is not changing much, it's not a huge shock that it's not changing. That shit is energy and it attracts. When you're making moves and you're working on becoming your best self, you attract like minded people. When you're drowning your sorrows in booze and bitching about someone doing you wrong, you're stuck there (and that attracts like-minded people too). Have you ever heard the phrase, "water seeks it's own level"? Well... it means, what you are, you attract... and if you really think about it...




Wobbly Knees

Sweater and Jeans and Purse: Lotus Boutique (soon to be re-branded and called CRIV), Booties: Nine West

I’ve been wondering a lot lately when it happens. When we tell ourselves, no wait… CONVINCE  ourselves, that we can’t do something. 

When, exactly, do we give up on ourselves? 

As kids, we believe we can do anything. We fall thousands of times learning to walk, but not one of us gives up on trying. We crash to the ground, skid our knees, hurt our elbows, and tear up our hands falling off of bicycles without training wheels but we continue. We fall, we simply get up. 
I wonder? Is it because everyone is expected to walk? Because most people know how to ride bicycles? When do we start telling ourselves that falling is not okay That falling is bad. That falling is failing (instead of a necessary part of the journey). We get older and we become "scaredy cats". Far too damn concerned with what other people think and not nearly as concerned as we should be with what we think of ourselves. With what we are doing with this one, precious life we are given. 

I’m not sure if it’s an age we hit, if it’s getting our hearts broken, or maybe it’s listening to other people’s shit (that they project onto us and we then internalize)?  Is it when life gets hard, when we fall flat broke, get embarrassed, or fail publicly at something we try? I know some people say it’s because of the way they were raised. It’s their mom’s fault, their dad’s fault. It’s their exes fault. Their ex-BFF from 9th grade. Perhaps a teacher who scolded them too harshly (telling them they aren’t shit, won’t be shit, and shouldn’t strive to amount to much more than shit). 

Or maybe it’s when we see other people try and fail at something? We tell ourselves that if THEY can’t do it, then I certainly can’t do it. We focus on the masses and then tell ourselves that it’s a numbers game. Convinced that the law of averages or probability tells us that we are no different than the masses. Then we hold on to that belief. As a matter of fact, we embrace it. We call it humility. We label it a virtue. We wear it like a badge of honor, something to be proud of. We don't ruffle feathers, don't ripple the water. No one judges us too harshly. We live in the middle. Middle of the road, on medium heat. We convince ourselves that people who are bold are also conceded, self-promoting and somehow different from us. That their success in an anomaly. Unicorn dust. A magic pill they sold their soul for. That there is something so fundamentally different about them that we could NEVER do what they do. Then… we get bitter and slowly turn into the type of person that talks shit about people who dare to deviate. We label them “lucky” and then put ourselves in the “unlucky” category.

In the last few years, with my R+F business and Pilates, I have been talking to a lot of people (mostly women) about mindset, and my mind has been BLOWN by how LITTLE people really think of themselves. It’s fking heartbreaking.  It’s an epidemic. They use words like “normal” and “average” to describe themselves and are convinced that success or happiness is reserved for people very different from them. It’s absolutely maddening to see just how many people lie to themselves about what they are capable of. Almost as maddening as when they use words like “luck” to describe someone who has worked their ass off. 

I am convinced that if more people gave up the bullshit story they feed themselves every day and replaced it with something else, something positive, something hopeful, that a lot would change. Having bad luck becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Have you ever met those people who ALWAYS have a sob story? Are full of excuses? Always lamenting about how difficult everything is? They "try soooooo hard" and nothing ever goes right for them. That shit is energy man, and it attracts like energy. The older I get the more I truly believe that much of your world is how you choose to view it and how you play the hand you've been dealt. There's a quote in a book called "The Alchemist" that says... "Most people see the world as a threatening place, and, because they do, the word turns out, indeed, to be a threatening place."

I'm not sure if anyone out there needed to be reminded that on wobbly legs, with shaky knees, after countless bruises, bumps and scraps that they picked themselves up and learned to walk, but I'm pretty sure that if we reminded ourselves of that once on a while we would be a bit more brave. A bit more sure of ourselves, AND that if we were more of those things, sure of ourselves and brave, that we would live a bit more boldly. Give less FUKS about what people think and take more chances on ourselves. 

I mean. It can't hurt to try, right? 


Outfit Purgatory

Booties: Marshalls, Pants: Target, Sweater: Versona, Necklace: Swarovski

YO YO YO!!!! Happy New Year!

Remember me? Pro'ly not. (Since I neglected the hell out of this blog in 2016.)

I wish I could say it's because 2016 was such a whirlwind of awesomeness and in the midst of all of my fabulous travels and adventures I just plain forgot. But, that's not exactly it.

2016 did bring some incredible things my way though... an engagement to my beloved manfriend, traveling to Banff Springs, Canada, going to Vegas twice, seeing some of my best friends get engaged, married, score new jobs, taking my side-gig and building it into a business, and welcoming a new, sweet-as-pie baby nephew into our family. Truthfully though, I spent most of the year on my back.

< Get your damn mind out of the gutter, dirt bags. >

What I meant is that I spent half of the year (6 months in total) recovering. Laying, quite literally, on my back. I had not one, but TWO breast reductions this year.

Yup. TWO.

I won't bitch too much about how badly recovery sucked, because the surgery was totally elective, but wow... IT.WAS.AWFUL.  My first surgery took me forever to recover from and when I had (and all of the swelling went down) it looked as if I had gotten more of a lift than a true reduction. I had only gone from an E to a DD. I was pretty disappointed and went back under the knife for a second time. With two surgeries I was recovering half of the entire calendar year. I couldn't practice or teach Pilates like I wanted to, I had to rely on other people a lot more than I normally do, I was in intense physical pain (which I am thankfully NOT used to), and really, I didn't get dressed that often or do much. Which leaves very little to blog about.

As a matter of fact, I have done SO little since my second surgery in November that I have worn this exact outfit almost every single time I have left the house. It is comfortable, cute, and the sheer size of the sweater (coupled with the fact that these leggings have an elastic waistband) made it easy to ignore the fact that I haven't been able to work out worth a shit most of the year.

Does anyone else out there do that? Wear an outfit for a short period of time, and as long as no major sweating goes on, food/drink spillage happens, or full-body photos were posted you simply fold it up  to wear again. It's like outfit purgatory... too dirty to be hung back up, too clean for the laundry basket, simply piled up (many times inside out) on your chair or dresser ready to go when you have to leave the house again. I do it all of the time. Between the fact that I never wash my hair, am usually 3 (or 6) days deep into dry shampoo, AND most of my outfits are recycled, it's amazing that I pass for clean or have any friends at all.

Anyway.... cheers everyone, to 2017!!! Chinese zodiac tells us it's the year of the Rooster, but in my world, it's the year of the: SmallBoobsThatWillAllowMeToMoveDressAndWorkoutComfortably. Victory!!!! Finally.


Antuan & Melissa: Engagement

"She loves him most when he talks about the things he is passionate about. That's when his eyes light up, alive, dancing, and burning, as if he sees a world that no one else has seen. And when he looks at her the same way, that's when she feels loved most." - Cynthia Go 

Thank you to my sweet, talented friend, Dameron of Lightbox Photography.