These were THE jeans. The unstoppable ones. The ones I swore I would wear again one day.
4…6…29…
The numbers boggled my mind.
Pencil skirts…low-rise ripped jeans…designer labels…
These styles seem like such a distant memory.
Piece by piece, I pulled items out of the blue plastic tub. Stale and wrinkled, they didn’t provide the fond memories I thought they would. Didn’t make me long for the days when I wore them with flair. I was thin. Very thin. But I didn’t know it at the time. I was insecure. I pinched every jiggle, willing it away. I worked out for hours, desperate to tone, trim, firm. I tried to catch every mirror I could, desperate to like what I saw. Most of the time, though, I didn’t.
Out of curiosity, I pulled one of the shirts over my head. “Medium. …
When my oldest daughter was almost a year old, my husband brought home a unique gift for Mother’s Day. Two rose bushes. One red, and one yellow. At the time, I was flattered, but had no idea just how amazing that gift would turn out to be. While I like yellow and red roses, my favorite is a pink or peach rose. I’m not sure my husband had any idea this would happen, but the two plants, placed several feet apart in our front flower bed, have started to cross pollinate (or something like that). I know nothing about roses, except that I like to look at them and smell them. But somehow, the yellow rose bush has started to produce peach and pinkish roses, even some yellow roses with red spots. They’re gorgeous, absolutely …
Dear mystery woman, I’m sorry. (Image from dailyshame.co.uk)
Friends, something has been bothering me for awhile. Nagging at my conscience, my gut. It’s about a picture I posted on my Facebook page. A picture of a young woman at Starbucks who appeared to be wearing only her underwear (or very, very short shorts). To be honest, I wasn’t making fun of her. I was simply amazed and confused. We just don’t see things like that very often around here. So then, I wrote a blog post, about how she was probably a good mom because her young daughter was dressed appropriately and she was treating her to a yummy breakfast. Still, something felt off. I don’t know this woman. I don’t know her story. So, I’ve removed both the photo and the post. Perhaps that …
I drifted off to sleep in the 6′ by 7′ room, feeling oddly safe in the small cocoon of a space. My bedroom was being remodeled, but I didn’t necessarily mind this new sleeping arrangement. It was just enough room for a twin bed, and a wire for hanging clothes. A cork board hung on the wall, with photos of school friends, and notes from best friends. I was 15. And about to experience one of the most terrifying nights of my life. The wall at the foot of my bed was filled with two old windows that rattled and shook in the wind. Branches from the thick elm tree outside would often scrape the panes, but that’s not what I heard that night. A sound, so muted and quiet, screamed into my consciousness, “Wake up! Someone …
Recently, I was asked if I’m trying to be “like the Pioneer Woman.” Hmm. I couldn’t decide whether to be offended or flattered. Considering the source (a friend from Twitter), I decided she probably had no ill will. And how could I possibly be offended by such a comparison? Well, I’ve worked really hard to find my voice, build my audience, define my brand. I’ve only moderately stalked Pioneer Woman’s site, and to be honest, it’s a bit intimidating. My feet are (probably) way larger than hers, but she has incredibly big shoes to fill. She’s spent years building her online presence until she became a household name (and got her own TV show).
While I would love to bring in the kind of income Mrs. Drummond does, I’m not …
Look good? Yep, it is.
Disclosure: This is NOT a compensated blog post. This is just me, telling you about a product I love. I did get a small sample from the company a couple of months ago, but would have written this post regardless. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll give a sample away to one of my readers if I ask nicely. 🙂
I have a confession. I like candy, a lot. Almost as much as I like Matt Damon. (It’s okay, hubs knows this is my celebrity crush.) And do you know what they both have in common? UNREAL. UNREAL Candy, that is. He’s one of many celebrity endorsers featured in this “Candy Manifesto.” But, he’s not the reason I’m writing this post. If you’re a fellow candy lover, or chocolate lover, you’ve got to …