Hey. So listen, I’ll be the first person to admit my life is FAAAAAAAR from perfect. I try to use humor to get over things. The more I joke about it the better I’m feeling and hence moving on from what just made the blood inside my body boil. Will this matter tomorrow? Better yet, will it even matter until the next thing that comes along to piss me off? No. So I have to choose my battles. So here it is. While I was upstairs getting ready, cleaning the bathroom, putting the baby in for a nap, and tweezing my ever bushy eyebrows, I came downstairs with a fairytale in my head that the morning mess would be picked up! 

I present, #husbandshaming at its finest.  

 
Sorry Dan. But I’m choosing to not be a bitch out loud to you today since SILVER LINING we get a day off together!!! #hugs #kisses #hopefullysomenaptimesex #sorrynotsorry 

This is who I am. I made this video to send to my girlfriends who understand me and figured instead of bothering Dan with my bitchiness today, I’ll laugh about it with you guys 🙂

Life is not always dazzling and enchanted, but for fucks sake it is funny!   Now, to clean this flophouse…..

Happy Monday friends!!! We had a great mommy and son weekend 🙂 Dan worked Saturday from 6 o’clock in the morning until 2 o’clock in the morning the next day… #brutal. So Sunday was pretty much a full day of nap snack repeat for us all.  We didn’t even go food shopping. Plus me and Mav are still getting through the tail end of our colds, and he learned how to blow his nose although not always into a tissue! Thank God for Lysol (did you know it is safe to spray it on yourself? I wonder if the same goes for febreze). 

We booked our trip to #miami for my big brother’s wedding to his dream girl and the excitement is starting to build deep down in the chill of my end of September bones. 

Can you believe it’s almost October? Like honestly where does time go? Did you watch the moon last night? Wasn’t it just so gorgeous? And magical? Makes you realize how small we all really are in this great but universe of ours. 

Which brings me to my point today.

Remember when you were young, like 4-8ish, and had honest-to-God not one worry in the world? Except maybe how bad it was gonna hurt when your mom ripped your bandaid off in the tub? We didn’t fear death and sickness. We didn’t fear our future and who we would marry and how much money we would make. I think the scariest thing for me was how I was going to jump into bed while simultaneously shutting off the light switch. It was always a mad dash filled with heart palpitations and the gripping anxiety of somebody grabbing my feet!!

I went to a Catholic school in Glasco, NY from kindergarten to third grade and to say I had the fear of God instilled in me would be an understatement. So when I made the transition to public school (holler Shen!) in upstate New York I had lots of questions, but not until around 9th grade when I remember starting to worry about the future. Thank you Mr. Allison for shooting all my prior thoughts on Adam and Eve and the spare rib to shit. I mean it, really – I would name my 9th grade science teacher one of my favorites of all time and one who opened up lots of doors in my then very sheltered brain. 

So I worried. Not just for myself, but about my parents, my grandma, my aunts and uncles, my brother, but mostly I always worried about my little sister. How she would make it to the bus stop without getting kidnapped. How she would make it through a school day without me. How I prayed she would stay true to herself and not be promiscuous in a time where promiscuity is/was glorified. I hoped she would be smart and wise enough to make good decisions on her own. I tried to save her from heart break, and shelter her from the horror story that can be every day life as a teenager, and sometimes twenty something. I aaaaam ten years her senior. I didn’t always want her to be my little buddy but hey, God had another plan for us both. 

These strands of memories woven through my brain are best remembered to the tune of this song: 

I remember her, always, as a little rolly meat ball with midnight curly hair nestled into the cream colored, leather couch hyptonized by Grease and singing along to every song and reciting every word. Or when she used to sing Seal and get so out of breath while trying to hit every note as an adorable little threenager. (Anyone lucky enough to be super close to Allie knows about the MIKE STAGE and for reasons I can’t disclose, I’ll keep that time private). Then there were the nights our dad would make us sing Anastacia and mute the volume as Allie and I were belting out the song from the back of the mini van 😂  oh man, wasn’t childhood the best? Like really nothing will ever replace being there but we hold onto these little gems and hope with all our hearts they never get pushed back to the cobweb section of our brains. My childhood was actually great, and so wonderful. And so full of joy and memories. It sometimes feels like I was lucky enough to have two separate sets of memories. One as the little sister and one as the big sister. 

My worst moment as a big sister was when we were out practicing driving and we saw her asshole boyfriend at the time doing some grimey shit and that was one of the first times my motherly instincts kicked in as I had to let her #feelallthefeels and #letitburn but FUCK it was hard to not get out of my Honda Accord with tinted windows and act like a hood rat and go batshit crazy on the poor little 17 year old skank that made my sister cry. I would do things a little different today I think. But from that, came ALLIE DAY ❤️🎉🎐 and all was right in the world 💗 My best moment as Allie’s sister so far was when she became an aunt. It’s been so surreal watching her with him, and loving him, and watching him love her right back. 

Today, Allie is my best friend. My human diary. My mirror. Personification of love. She decorates my heart and soul. Before Maverick came along, Allie taught me so much in how to act, and how to be a better version of myself. I wanted to be gracious and girly, fun and lovable. I wanted her to always know she could come to me and feel no judgement. I wanted her to trust me with her greatest fears and tell me her biggest hopes. I wanted her to look at me as more than a sister and more than her best friend. The wildest thing is I still don’t have a word or a way to describe what she’s become to me, but I know we are that for eachother.

Allie, I hope you always know that whatever way you decide to walk that I’m walking right beside you. Sometimes behind you, giving you that extra little push, and sometimes standing a few feet in front pulling you ahead. Go at your own pace, figure it all out in your time. The universe has a plan for you. The world is so much bigger than us, and you’re doing just fine. I love you to the big beautiful moon, and will always be cheering you on 🌕.

So in honor of the greatest girl I know, and in celebration of her inviting me to do this with her, I invite you all to join us in this 21 day challenge – 

  
This is day 2 for me: so here goes.

I am grateful for my sister.

I am grateful God made me a mother.

I am grateful for Monday’s off! 

  

No really. Because my nose is running. The kind when you’re talking and mid sentence you feel it on your top lip and you’re like WOW EW I’M DISGUSTING.  Thank God that shit only happens in front of like, Mav and Dan. Otherwise I would be probably out of a job and/or friends. 

So yesterday morning I woke up with a scratchy throat and by the time I got my “hi babe I’m out of work first so what do you want for dinner?” text, I asked for his famous chicken noodle soup.

 

Ask and you shall receive.

 I know I already talked about how wonderful Dan is in another post but c’mmmmmon, how many men cook?! And how many husbands out there ask you what you want on the first day of your three day work week? And how many husbands look this hot hurrying vegetables into an assuming autumn-eve pot? (I love Eve’s of things. Like, the build up is just untouchable.)

#blessed #myhusbandishot #andagoodcook #whowontkissmylipswhenimsick

So today I’ve had the excuse to not shave my legs. Or put makeup on. Or wash my hair (pssshhhh like I ever need an excuse for that) or clean anything. Or cook. (But I do plan on a veggie meatloaf because: fall. And who doesn’t love a good loaf of meat. And let’s be honest I made a targ run and did three loads of laundry and I did shave my ankles and shins). And my baby is still off from his weekend festivities as ring bearer,  

 so he’s taking a later nap and I am now breaking all the rules by enjoying an after five o’clock, alone cup of coffee that I will surely regret around 11, 12 and 1am tonight. But that’s okay because NASHVILLE SEASON PREMIER HAS ME ALL AMPED UP ❤️📺💥😭🍂🇺🇸🎶 God bless America and fall TV. But for real, all I want to do is lay in a pile of warm laundry and eat biscotti and ice cream but instead here I am, watching Mav and Stella snuggle, and nap time blogging has commenced.   

Why don’t moms ever sleep? Or cry? Or have their clothes cleaned regularly?  Or take a moment in all its worth and hold onto it?

Because we can’t. Because we are busy AF bitches, who have a tall order in front of us at all times. Clothes to put away, mouths to feed, appointments to make, engagements to keep, animals to take care of, phone calls to be made, bills to be paid, aaaaand just listing that gave me anxiety. 

But seriously, back to the holding onto a moment. (I can’t speak for men because in my mind they’re all just blowing off steam and doing what they do to make a living and keep us women happy the two weeks out of the month where they have a fighting chance and finding a healthy distance away from us for the other two. Feel me?? Am I right?) We don’t do it as often as we should. We don’t take a little break in between all the goings on to even realize and process what just went on! Like me for instance. I just siphoned through my closet as we went through August and now by the first day of fall, all of my neon garb and maxi dresses are tucked depressingly away in a basement bin. God love the basement bin.

Today I had the opportunity (read: forced) to slow down ….. and reflect. Yes I bought some little gourds and miniature pumpkins at Lakeside Farms on Monday. Yes I arranged my flowers and thought about getting some mums and pocketing them into an apple basket next to my rocking chair that I draped a little brown blanket around on Monday morning, during a quiet and chilly cup of joe. But if it weren’t for me feeling like crap today I would have full steamed ahead into the next season without looking back upon one of the simplest summers of my adult life. 

  
We didn’t go away anywhere. No road trips, no vacations, no drives down to the jersey shore. We didn’t see any concerts or even see an open mic night at that. But our summer was so full. The kind of season that fills you up with memories and love. Where you can look back on so many different things and laugh out loud at the fun you had. We did things together as a family. We saw some of our best friends get married in Florida. We went to Sacandaga Lake with some of our favorite people. Throw in a few bonfires, a boat ride or two, a couple games of corn hole at family parties, fireworks, patio sitting, another wedding and we had ourselves a summer. 

I’m happy because I am simple. I don’t need much. I laughed and I cried once really really hard, and I stayed up too late. I drank a little too much one night which made me swear off drinking forever (lasted a week). I used to have such a vision for how life should be, and thought I knew exactly how it would all go. Who would play the main parts and who would cameo through my life. I thought I would always do the things I did when I was young. But the truth is, I’m winging it. Im letting the wind blow me, and if it feels right I go along and open my sails. If it feels wrong I caution back a bit and head back to shore. I know who I am, and I have learned who makes me feel safe. I know who I can be vulnerable around. Im in love with the people who can just look at me and know how I’m doing. I have a comfort zone for sure but I have people inside it who push me to be great and want to hear all the good that’s going on for me. Imagine that? The people who surround me lift me up and make me better. And that’s who I spent my summer with. That’s who loves me, and Mav, and Dan. And being loved and being me has never felt so simple, sooo right. So today, before you scurry on to the next thing, take a s a c r e d  p a u s e, and kiss this last season of your life up to the winds of change. God bless you, and keep you healthy and happy always. 

Ok so I didn’t watch the Emmys. I actually live so far underneath my new fancy mom rock I couldn’t even tell you who the host is. How sad am I? To be perfectly honest I’ve only ever really been into the MTV movie awards and anything country. Yes I love country music and I won’t defend it any further. But ok wait, best moment in MTV movie awards history is surely this gem right here: 

http://youtu.be/_hnVb0U9Y3Q 

You’re welcome.

Ok so this is my night life lately. Put Mav to #sleepynuhnight and then Dan follows suit and then I know I should sleep so I can be the best version of myself, (yeah right. Need a lot more than 8 hours in a row of closed eyeballs) but I can’t. Because: social media. It’s amazing how it has taken over my life. I try to take breaks and have even been known to deactivate my Facebook from time to time, but to be honest I love feeling connected. I love sharing and reading all the stuff (humble braggers stand up!) And yes I even will admit to the occasional stalk sesh. Where before I realize it I’m on Juan Pablo’s mother’s ex boyfriend’s new girlfriend’s hairesser’s Instagram page like how the fuck am I not insta famous yet??? Like what’s a girl gotta do to get some free ray bans sent her way? Maybe even a Michael Kors tote? At this rate I’ll take a free sample of Pantene if it meant I achieved insta fame. 

So that was a taaaaaan-gent. About my extracurricular night time activities after hubby and son are tucked tight away in the sheets beside me. But what I really wanna talk about is 

IT’S FALL!

The magical time of year when we adorn our front porches with hay bales and mismatched (but oh so matched) gourds and pumpkins. The nights are just begging for a bonfire with everyone gathered around it in hoodies and sweats. Plaid shirts and strategically ripped, perfectly dyed denim is the go-to for apple orchard attire. And Sundays are for a pot-a-sauce, some good ol’ down home fall festivities with the kids and ends with adult bevys on the couch! My God, it was so hard to let go of summer but now that the weather is matching the calendar?! I’m waving the flag at the front of the fall bandwagon! Jean shirts wrapped around my waste and pumpkin craft beers are kinda my thing and I aaaam toying with the idea of darkening my hair. (Do I don’t I? Do I don’t I?) I couldn’t wait to get home today after attending “the final hoorah #brunch” at my MIL’s because I needed to be wearing a flannel, you know, with such a cool breeze in the shade of course. Or buffalo plaid. Or a knit hat draped on my head. I even called my mom and sister on my way home to plan some harvest hooplah for our Monday plans! Walked in the door to my immaculate-because-it’s-on-the-market house, opened the windows and lit two pumpkin candles like the basic 31 year old I am, (Do I say that a lot? My age? I feel like I do.) and got my Victoria’s Secret sweats on complete with a new long sleeved t from Nordstrom rack. Kicked my feet up and watched two documentaries recommended to me by my girlfriend while the dudes took a nap. The documentaries were the beginning of a new journey I’m excited to start, but am still educating myself on before I take a life changing plunge. (Holler gypsy.)

Which brings me to this… There’s something about the fall that makes me want to reinvent. Make my body better, my mind healthier, and buy a shit ton of new clothes and makeup. Do you guys feel like this? Like it’s a New Year’s resolution kind of vibe for me. So, this fall I plan to lose some weight. Like 15 pounds would be nice. Pick up a new hobby, like kickboxing at the new place in Clifton Park. Sell our house and find a new dream home. And hope to expand this little family we have here 🙂 so there it is! those are my goals and dreams for this new season. I hope I’m not alone in this way of thinking, but if I am, more power to me. And if I’m not, well you have yourself a cheerleader in me 🙂 (oooooh I think that I found myself a cheerleaderrrrr. that song’s great) oh, side note – I bought Mav a new fall wardrobe today. Zara for kids and this little shop on Instagram called Paper Doll Clothing Company made my liiiife this afternoon 🎉❤️🍂

Ps. I love sharing my life this way. I so appreciate all the love and support I’ve been receiving. It means more to me (than I think I can even comprehend) that anyone even cares to read my run-on sentences and random digressions on a regular basis. So thank YOU, and feel free to share back any thoughts on any of my posts, but please just keep it in the sunshine ➕☀️ 

#positivevibesonly 

 Ok for real, I’m going to bed now 🙂

I like to keep one foot in a fantasy world, and one foot out. 

Wanna know why? Because this world is becoming a really terrifying place.

I can’t turn on the news for the weather anymore because there is a murder on a street a town away from me. There are babies washing up on a foreign shore I’ll never dip my toes into, but it feels so close. Why does the news run when it does anyway? All morning to begin our day with our families? Right at dinner time while we’re trying to gather and talk about our day? Or just before bed to fill our heads with nightmares. Honestly, the schedule is disturbing.

I’ve been called a lot of things in my life. Like the terrible names of course, by people who clearly didn’t know who I was and what I stood for. Using past tense ’cause I cut those bitches OUT.

I think the thing that has bothered me most was when someone told me I need to stop acting “holier than thou.” Why? Because I put you in your place? Because 9 out of 10 times I kept my perfectly polite mouth shut and you’re shocked that I finally had enough of your negativity? I don’t LIKE it. It’s that simple.

 One of my new favorite things to look for is the silver lining. Not the shit part. I’ve had a lot of shitty things happen. I HAVE a lot of shitty things happen. I won’t talk about them because they don’t help me today. Know what helps me? My rosy attitude that’s too bright for some to be around. My confidence and sharp tongue that people would rather me keep quiet. And the final thing that helps me? The fact that one of my (fantasy) shoes is a size 7 jimmy choo in rose gold, with a 5 inch heel covered in sequins and diamonds. But my reality shoe is a flat size 10 steal that I found on clearance at Marshall’s. And I know either way I’m lucky to even have shoes on my feet. That I was allowed to let grow (at a rapid pace, yes I had size tens in the fourth grade, awesome). I know I am fortunate for what I do have. Some people will complain that the wind is blowing and I’m just over here like heeeeeey I’m happy the wind is even blowing, and I’m “too positive.” Is there such thing? Maybe.

I’m mad, down to my bones that my cousin Amanda passed far too young. I’m mad I dated shitty guys. I’m mad I worked with assholes for far too long. But am I going to freeze my life in purgatory because of it? 

No.

I’m always going to try to look for a silver lining in any situation. I gotta say, there was a time I was negative, and wouldn’t be happy until I could bring everyone down with me, and I was spiteful too. Isn’t that sick? 

But then I connected in to myself. And I think it was Kathy Lee on the 10th hour of the today show who said “count your blessings, not your burdens.”

So I say this: be so positive in your own life and let that happiness swallow the people around you. Swallow them in to your love and into your light. Keep your mouth shut when you think you shouldn’t. Smile at someone when you feel so inclined. It takes so much more energy to be an asshole than it does to just be nice. I speak a very simple language, and if you could take the time to understand who I am, you’ll know I lead with my heart. We can all be better, I promise. Now this isn’t a “take my lead! I’m amazing” but the next time something happens, genuinely think if it will even matter in 5 days, in five minutes. Be better. Try to find this inside and I promise you’ll look at the world through a new set of shades 😎

  
As for me, I’ll be celebrating the babiest SIL I have in the union of love between her and her soul’s mate. Congratulations to Kylie and Zach! I love you guys so much and can’t wait for you to enter this new chapter in your love story ❤️🍷✨ #cheers! 

 I have a friend and she is beautiful. She is one of those people who floats into your life unassuming, almost by mistake. Or by a coincidence. Or whatever you want to call it. She has taught me so many lessons in the time we have known eachother. She’s taught me how to speak my truth, how to be true to myself, how to ask for help, and how to find my own way. 

She’s also taught me that there is no happenstance by mistake. There is no coincidence. Everything is going according to plan. 

She is gorgeous, and not the kind that you can only see, but you can feel. Her presence is warm. Her demeanor is calm and sweet. She now lives on the other side of this great big country, but she’s as close to me as she’s ever been.

Blog, meet my gypsy, Erin ❤️.

  

What. A. Babe.

So I met Erin in the most random series of events. To put our relationship to a real timeline is tough because I litch-ruh-lee feel like I’ve known her for lifetimes. And because Erin has become my own personal spirit guide, I now know I have. We could have been sisters, lovers, Indian royalty together in past lives, whatever – but I’ll tell you who she is to me in 2015. 

She is a light. She makes me light. She is the best listener on the planet. Her heart has always been an open door for me. She’s calm, she calms me. She makes me better. I have so much fulfillment from our friendship that I’ve actually had to remind myself I’m into dudes. 👭 

She has been a pillar of strength for me. She’s a constant, a confidant. She knows my biggest fears, my greatest hopes, and every disgusting and vulgar detail about me. We share stories and memes and Pins. We share love for so many different things and our opposites are what make our relationship continuously bloom. 

She has the heart of an angel. Her voice and the way she speaks is soothing and intentional. Her words are the very stardust on which my new thoughts and ideas rest on. We send eachother snail mail. But not just any snail mail, the most random box filled with love and things to lift eachother up. Or just a really pretty card. (She’s good like that. I am not)

There’s a respect I have for my friend that is rare and true. She’s witnessed and survived great loss. Yet her spirit and soul have become better and brighter, and her purpose on this planet is so much more important than we know.

She’s as true blue as they come… Like a shooting star burning her path through the universe. Leaving imprints and pulling on heart strings wherever she goes. 

Erin, I want you to know how thankful I am for the circumstances that brought us to eachother. I hope you always know I think of you as a part of my family. The role you’ve played in my life has been paramount to the 31 year old woman I am today. I love all your advice, and all your opinions. You’ve picked me up more times than I can count. You make me better 💛✨

  
Ok but for rrrrreal though. Whether it’s because it’s “not acceptable” to talk about your sex life, or it’s a really good secret you have to keep, or because this one isn’t quite to twelve and a half weeks yet or that one hasn’t announced her legal separation yet, it can be really hard to keep all these things to yourself!! (Did I really just spew all those things I just typed? Yes. Because hello I am an adult and I am worldly and lots of shit goes on in front of my face these days.) 

But I’m talking about moments. A real genuine, authentic, sweep you off your feet moment. A lovely arrangement of seconds or minutes that you really just cannot put into words. All the articulating and thesaurus-ing will just never touch the actual feeling. And trying to use a tool as poor as words to convey a feeling, sometimes, is just downright frustrating. 

Like the conversation I just had with my husband before bed. It was such a real and unexpected series of events that led us to the very words we were speaking and it was funny, and we were laughing, and Dan told me I was playing devils advocate and I snorted and he cut me off, but ugh it was such a lovely little moment. And now I can’t even tell you what the substance of it was or what I snorted at or why he got irritated toward my rebuttal but it was just fun. I felt like we were weightless. And suspended in the middle of all the craziness that is constantly surrounding us. And in the minutes during our conversation I knew it was only a matter of time before he said “ok babe I gotta go to sleep now” so I held on to every last word he would speak back to me because the truth is, I already miss him tomorrow. And impromptu and deep conversations that happen like this are truly special and rare, to me and for us and they weigh heavy and deep inside my heart. 

Blog, meet the love of my life.  

   Daniel   

Michael

Phillips. 

Swoon. 

These are just three of seventy nine thousand memories we’ve made over the last 7 years 🙂 he’s the one that’s behind my big fat smile. He’s the one that’s made me realize what living really means. He’s the reason I can’t put moments into words because he makes me feel a way I haven’t figured out how to describe. 

You know when you’re on your way somewhere, and you’re excited about it? And the whole drive you were ok, totally relaxed and patient until you’re about 5 minutes away? Follow me here. My favorite place on earth is the New Jersey shore. My love for Dan is kind of like my drive to the shore. As I get to the big beautiful bridge that’s always lit up, I open my windows and let the salty air fill my nostrils. The humidity sticks to my skin and instantly I’m jolted alive, like every single cell in my body is plugged in, and I suddenly cannot wait to get there. Like can’t take it.

That’s the feeling he gives me. When he’s on his way home from work, I spruce: myself, the house, warm up or put out his dinner, light a candle. He just makes me so happy. All I ever want is to return the love he’s given to me. All the time. And use every resource I have to make “a moment” and have him feel how alive he makes me.

I could go on about how much I love this man. How I believe he was sent to me. Straight from God. A real life angel, dressed in a striped g-unit shirt on the third floor of the Saratoga City Tavern. How he taught me to be vulnerable, and when to be tough. How he allowed me to open up my soul. To open my heart and let him love me. How he helped me in ways I haven’t even been able to explain to him yet. How he’s made every dream I’ve ever had come true. How he made me his wife. How he made me a mother, and how he is the best father to our son. How he’s made me thankful for what I do have and not to want for anything. He cries with me and laughs with me and creates moments with me I can’t tell anyone about because my words will never ever do my feelings any justice.
He’s dreamy. His love is so familiar and broken in. To me, he’s home base. My rock. My right hand. The personification of love. He’s gentle and strong and sweet. The cornerstone of our family. The most loyal and dedicated and hardest working guy I know. He’s all I ever hoped for in a man. 

So this is a blog all about how Pinterest perusing at midnight turns to a heartfelt homage to my huuuus. I had zero intentions on writing about anything but here we are just talkin’bout mah dream dude #hearteyes #allday 

It’s dark, and wet and all signs point to a break in the weather. The cars slapping water underneath their tires, and you hear the rain drip dropping on the window sill. Crickets, yes but only a few and very faint out in the afterthought of a September storm. The hum of the street lights fill your ears and another set of tires licks the wet world up into its rubber. When the moments of stillness fill the air and you are sitting on the shore of all your feelings because you had two glasses of relax and it has just occurred to you that tomorrow is 9/11. 

Nine one one.

Do you remember where you were? Not the morning of when you saw the smoke billowing out of the middle of a building (you had seen and been inside of on field trips to) in New York City. Not the afternoon when you realized what had happened to our great nation. Not how you felt at the end of the day when you didn’t feel safe in your own bed.

Think back. Can you even remember the night before? Doesn’t it seem like a different world evolved overnight? 

  (I posted this last year – now 14)

Imagine that. Most of us can’t. It has been the greatest loss of our lifetime. Not feeling safe, starting to stereotype, feeling like the world actually had the chance of ending and watching it with our own two eyes. I remember I was walking out of math class. I was in a “slow” math class (go figure I now use numbers and measurements for a living) that was broken up into two years, and I was already failing two weeks into my senior year. Anyway it was unbelievable, literally until the principal came on the loud speaker and told us what happened. 

I knew how heavy the situation was but it wasn’t until two summers ago, and I was on my way to the Justin Timberlake and Jay Z concert at (mother fucking) Yankee stadium when it really hit me.

My dad had planned a surprise for my sister and I. 

(Blog, meet ALLIE!) 

  

We were escorted by a retired NYS trooper (God bless you all) to an NY fire house. Where we were then hand delivered, lights and sirens, by New York’s finest, to the concert of our lives. (Fun fact, I had peed on three pregnancy test sticks before we left and sure enough all three said I was with child so that was just crazy in it of itself I’ll tell all later #inanotherblog.) 

It was on our way to see Justin and J in one of the most legendary settings there ever was. We were with 4 or 5 firemen and we were shooting the proverbial shit with them when I asked “so what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever seen on the job” and the strawberry blonde haired man scoffed at me and I knew what was coming.

In my favorite accent in the world he said kind of rhetorically “probley when the towahs fell” and the entire cab of the firetruck went into slow motion. The silence was thick. I realized for someone who always has something to say I was speechless. At 29 years old I knew better than to ask such a stupid question. Little did I know how those firemen wear that story around like a heavy cloak. After some ice breaking small talk I delved deeper. I asked “how long did you work that first shift when you were called to fight the fires?” With bated breathing and some pink flush coming into and then leaving his face a pale white he answered. “Novembah. My wife asked me to come home in Novembah.”

I gotta tell ya. I replay this story in my head a lot. I never thought I had a hero. I would say this person or that person or try to pretend I liked she-woman or some other female comic book character. Something stupid like that. But this man had instantly become my hero.

Like many of the men and women who fought for our country in the days that followed 9/11, and lived to tell about it, they are nonchalant and endearing. Peaceful and somehow thankful in their grief.

That day I took so much away from what was supposed to be a super cool ride to an unbelievable concert. Truth is, as beautiful as Justin Timberlake’s voice is and the way he moves literally could get me pregnant, I would have rather stayed inside that fire truck all night and listened to those guys tell their stories. Of selflessness, bravery, heroism and strength.

   
So. On September 11th 2015 let’s all stand together like we did on that fateful day 14 years ago. Smile at a stranger. Buy a coffee for the car behind you. Hold a door for someone. Say hello. Let us be as patriotic and as united as we were in the weeks that followed that day.  And for all that is holy and right and aligned in this world thank a police officer or a firefighter or any first responder for what they do. For what they did. For what they are yet to do. 

Would you have ran into those buildings to help? If you did, I thank you. 

God Bless America ❤️🇺🇸

 

Unlike the rest of the world, I have Mondays off. In my awesome hairdresser land it is amazing because I get to spend Sunday with my two dudes and then Monday is like my Sunday in that it’s a down time for me to unwind and catch up while the rest of the world returns to the grind. Today was rough. I don’t know how you people do Monday every week. But okay, couple things. This may be my most random post ever, but stick with me. As I’m finding, I start out with one thought and by the end, I’m so far out in left field I forgot what inning it is. I promise, you’ll relate to this though. 

My high school memories included playing donkey kong, popcorn and the always relevant after-school special, talking on the phone, ramen noodles at Tshepo’s house, followed by a bike ride to the park. Hide and seek, AOL, and late night swimming. Girlfriend sleepovers, packed like sardines in a bedroom and never actually sleeping, more talking on the phone and shopping at weathervane. Then as freshmen year rolled by and I became a seasoned sophomore, it was football games on Friday nights, pit parties in the woods, junior prom… more sleep overs, and a red see through pager (143/911). Junior year kind of blurry-ish? Because: fake ID game: strong. Right of passage type stuff. Dating an older boy, going to Myrtle Beach and Alive@5. Senior year was the year of all years because we were undefeated powder puff champions (wild hunnies unite!) upgraded to AIM and Abercrombie, flat irons, Cancun for spring break (yes a third world country, utterly unsupervised at 18. Thank you Jesus for keeping me alive and rest in peace Natalie Holloway.) my first frat party at SAE in TROY at the tender age of 17. So yeah, I was awesome. But I remember one thing, I had an awkward stage. 

Of course I had that no fear, invincibleness, world by the balls type attitude. The chunky blonde highlights (head games holler) perfectly mixed cd playing in my jeep Cherokee, and my lifetime favorite bonne belle lip gloss in cappuccino forever across my lips. But holy hell did I have an awkward stage. You know that gray area when you’re wildly unaware of your own style? when I bought canvas vans sneakers in a really feminine shade of brown. And wide leg carpenter jeans (jencos whatwhat and the loop hole was so useful). And some scary long sleeved eyelit shirt with an “undershirt” sewed inside in a terrifying contrasting color, complete with a wrought iron fence looking “choker” around my neck. Oh. Yeah. And my hair was gelled back into a perfect pony tail that rivaled that of a greaser from The Outsiders. My God I was soooo fetch! 

But I wasn’t. Because hi. Have you seen what girls wear/look like/act like/talk like now? And how they never went through that right of passage ugly stage? I mean they caught every green light in their drive through awkward town. Young girls these days are shopping at PINK and Nordstrom (or some reeeeally lucky finds at Marshall’s). They have perfected the messy bun, and they nail hair in general with their long golden sun-kissed locks every time. They can pull off comfy caj (soft j) kardashian-glam, or boho-chic-beach-goddess litch-ruh-lee with the removal or adding on of a flower crown. And don’t even get me started on pedicures and manicures. I remember when I was young, thinking (French) pedicures were suuuuuch a luxury, now? Part of #lyyyfe. (I remember the days I prayed to make it big and making it big meant one pedicure a month. Life goal: accomplished!)

I’m jealous. But I gotta tell ya, good for them! Good for you girls for getting it right and never having a less than proud moment where scrunchies, umbros and platform flip flops were a main staple. Also, I still can’t perfect a messy bun and I’m a fucking hairdresser!!! #embarrassing 😂

My message is this. I know there are people of all ages that feel like they’re going through an awkward time. I know there are people who feel like their entire life has been a stage of wondering and unknowing. I understand it because I’ve been there, and I’m sure I’ll wander down an avenue in awkward town again on this journey of mine. The good looks and expensive shit fades though. Be someone who can last through the fads. Have a heart that can love. Use your hands to help. 

Talk to make progress, not to just make conversation. 

In every stage of life we will always have a few choices, and if a couple bad choices lead us somewhere ultimately great than whose to say there was anything awkward about it at all… 

A moment of bad is just as fleeting as a moment of good. 

Let go of the tangible and hold onto something money can’t buy. Don’t worry if your hair isn’t quite the perfect shade of chocolate, or your body isn’t the hourglass we all wish it would be, if your house isn’t immaculate, if your child isn’t on a set routine. If you opted for the left over red white and blue frosted cookies from LDW2015 for breakfast this morning when you swore it was the day you were returning to your diet? Fuhgetaboutit. You’re doing great. And it was just an awkward choice not an awkward lyfe.