inhaling is the easy part exhaling is where it gets hard

I'll talk about the sad stuff some other time. 

 

I shaved my legs for my birthday. That was a pretty big step for me. 

For the first time in years I had a surprisingly good birthday. My best friend came in from NYC and my other bestie was up from Florida.

I got my hair done. We went out to eat. 

I made Kh and my bestie get Friendly's sundaes with me. 

 

We played Cards Against Humanity. Ate cheese and crackers, and veggies. Drank too much wine, and stayed up to late. I'm glad I had on waterproof mascara. I haven't laughed that hard in a very long time.

 Flat Stanley got to hang out in my boobs and party with the veggies. 

I bought myself ankle boots with skulls on them. I'm pretty much in love with them.

I got some amazing gifts. Porcupine quill earrings and a silver shark tooth necklace from Kh, and my bestie got me a necklace with dandelion seeds in it. 

Thus far 27 has been interesting. I've had some terrible lows, and some mid-level times. Business is so busy I haven't had a full day off in over a month, which I can't complain about. But I am feeling burnt out, tired. Some days I just want everything to be on mute so I can be alone in my own thoughts. Separate my feelings, compartmentalize everything.

Some days the energy just isn't there.

This is what 27 looks like on me. And one of my new dresses I bought for Mexico. Vacation can't come soon enough.

xo

throwback thursday | 3 days until my birthday and i was a pretty sweet kid

 

That's not a poodle, it's my moms amazing 80's hair.
I'm all "Give me your damn cake monkey man!"

I know, you can be jealous of my sweet 90's outfit. 

Whatever Santa, I don't need your present when I've got these sweet bangs.

I hadn't learned about flat irons yet, and the makeup was for a performance piece I did. I needed to eat a serious meal when I was 15.

My sweet teenage bedroom. 

 

xo

my only weakness is a listed crime

I woke up this morning hoping it was an extra weekend day, but it wasn’t. I’m also a day closer to my birthday, and the combination of these two facts made me feel like hiding out under the covers. At least for an extra hour.

My weekend was one of those low-key barely do anything but spend all the money in the world kind of weekends.

For the first time in a while Kh and I went out for drinks and dinner. But mostly drinks Friday night. I had a beer, and some wine. Beer = not such a good idea for me. Throwing up all night is awesome. 

I have a gluten intolerance. I love beer more than I could ever love a child born from my own womb, but I can't drink it. And GF beer makes me want to hurl just thinking about it. 

Saturday I had a bazillion little work related things to do, and barely slept Friday night. Which translates to.. I took a nap in the afternoon. Boooya. It was pretty great, I must admit.

After my sleeping beauty goal was complete, we went to Target to pick up “all those things” that we had been running out of but refused to make trips to the store for. Those few things turned into a cart load of money symbols dancing around.

It never fails. I always end up buying the same few things when I go to Target. Panties, and makeup. Sometimes I mix it up and buy a shirt, dress, or pants. But generally panties and some form of makeup makes it’s way into my basket.

You’d think my dresser would be overrun with panties at this point, but I think someone in the apartment below me monitors when I’m doing my laundry and steals some of them out of the dryer. Pantie thief! I still can’t find my favorite black pair from my last Target excursion.. Oh well, look at the cute Spring colors I have now to replace them.

It was time for me to replace my favorite pink and red lipstick as well.

I was a bit disappointed in their clothing selection. How is that no matter what level of self love you have for yourself at the point in which you cross the threshold into a Target dressing room, it’s ripped away from you the second you look at yourself in the changing room mirrors? I also felt real old shopping in the Juniors section and over hearing this conversation.

“Ok, like you totally have to pick out clothes for me, and I’ll totally pick out clothes for you. You know what I mean?”

“Totally.”

I always try things on, and then think it over before buying them. I’m liking the striped dress and the floral one.

Lets just skip right to Sunday. I made Kh leave the house early, we grabbed coffee and egg sandwiches at our favorite café then did the most horrible thing in the world.. Grocery shopping at Trader Joes on a Sunday morning. Even early, it was terrible. Everyone turns into savage beasts when trying to get their bags of broccoli, and their bananas.

We survived. And went shopping.. again. This time, I hated it but Kh was real into it.

I realized one thing; peplum shirts make my boobs look ginormous. I even tried on one of those mesh insert peplum shirts, which just made them even more gigantic. Bam! 

 I had a few misses.The one on the right I liked, but it had a busted seam in the front. And the left one was to short in the front.

But ended up getting these three shirts. For under $40. And a pair of black skinny jeans, on sale for $19. I love being cheap.

Here's to another Monday. 

xo

stream of conscious sunday: my birthday

My birthday is in seven days. It seems like it’s really speeding towards me this year, palm open and ready to slap me across the face. Last year I turned 26, and I wasn’t dreading it so much as I am this year.

It’s not the getting older thing that bothers me. It’s the odd number thing. 27 just doesn’t have a very nice sound to it. 

“Oh yeah, cool, I’m 27.”  Said no one ever.

Pffft.

I’ve never really been one for celebrating my birthday. It was usually just an occasion for someone to make me feel terrible, and sink me into a dark depression for at least a week.

As a kid, I used to hide under the table when everyone would try to sing Happy Birthday to me. Or worse, when everyone’s attention was drawn to me to unwrap all the gifts. What if I got a shitty gift? I’d have to hide the shattering of my little child heart and pretend like I was oh so happy to receive pink fuzzy socks. That hasn’t really changed in adulthood. I hate opening presents in front of people.

I don’t like being the center of attention, I’m more of an avid onlooker that sits back and takes it all in. Forming a good story or silently judging the idiots making fools of themselves.

 

The only time in my life I started to really enjoy my birthday was when I started dating Kh. I’ve had 2 birthdays with her, and each year she makes them pretty great. I get sucked into some kind of birthday obligation that involves hanging out with friends that make me feel miserable the day of my birthday, and Kh always plans a “make up birthday”, the day after. It usually just involves me doing whatever I want and her supporting me with my decision. If I wanted to lie in bed eating ice cream cake and watching Harry Potter all day, she’d be there to change DVDs for me.

True love, that shits for real.

I’m hoping this is the one birthday that afterwards I wake up and feel like an adult on. When I turned 20, I thought 21 would bring a newfound clarity on adulthood and life. When I turned 25, I thought it would be 26. And so on.

Well. Perhaps this is the birthday when others start thinking I’m an adult.

While I know it’s not your age that determines adulthood, I’m still waiting for that “a-ha!” moment. I mean, I’m ok with going on with life always feeling like I’m 21. I’d say 16 but I need to be able to legally drink in my own mind, right? And these lines on my face weren't there when I was 16. 

And my butt wasn't quite as wide as it is now. 

And my boobs weren't nearly this awesome.

 I'm sure I'll have more birthday posts this week. For now, shhh.. it's not this close..

xo