Wednesday, October 29, 2014

A Hardly Blogger

Last night I went to a blogger event (#swooziesdenver) of sorts, my very first I believe (unless I was drunk and in which case I'm real sorry about that), and it was brought to my attention that I'm hardly a blogger anymore. Ok, no one actually said that verbatim but I did get some shit from a fellow hardly blogger anymore, Sami, so now I'm going to try my best to pump out a post today and then maybe try again tomorrow and the next day, etc, etc. Stella needs to get her groove back.

I would be Stella in that scenario, by the way.

Yesterday marked 20 days since I made my way to Denver and it's been a roller coaster of a 20 days if I'm being honest here. Some days I wake up really excited to be here and to explore my new city, other days I lay in my bedroom, which is classily blacked out thanks to a moving blanket and some pushpins, plotting ways to run away back to everything I know in Orlando. I like to think I've had more good days but it's hard to really plot them all out because there's also the 50/50 days when I go through all of the emotions in a 24 hour span.

Those of you who told me this would happen, allow me to take a moment to say "you. were. so. right.", and then some.

Going back to that classy curtain hanging in our bedroom right now, it's the bane of my existence currently. I swore I'd never have a push pin, makeshift, curtain in any bedroom of mine and then I moved to a place where the sun rises straight into my bedroom window and my tone quickly changed. Not to mention, Bear has had a total of 2 days off of work since I got here so getting man help to hang things I'm not patient enough to hang, and put bigger things together that I've probably already fucked up trying to do by myself, hasn't been an option. Yet.

Our upstairs neighbors vacuum twice a day and this is no exaggeration. It's by far the most bizarre thing I've yet to encounter and people here eat things like elk so obviously there are a lot of bizarre things to encounter here. Really though, who needs to vacuum two times a day? I don't even vacuum two times a week. Then again, I'm not exactly in the running to be the new and improved Ms. Clean so I guess that's not really saying much. Either way, it sounds like a lot of work and I'm fighting many urges to ask said neighbors what exactly it is that they're vacuuming all of the time.

Maybe they just got a really cool new vacuum that they want to play with? Granted the pink Swiffer Bear got me that I was really excited about is still in it's packaging hiding in the closet.

I'm still lost pretty much always, though I'm able to find my way to the post office and to Whole Foods, which is the only thing keeping me from sobbing constantly about the lack of Publix stores in this state. I had a minor meltdown last night trying to figure out how to wrap a scarf around me and I'm pretty sure there was a moment or two when I actually got lost within said scarf. I get the scarf tutorials on Pinterest now, I totally get them. Well, I don't GET them, get them, but I understand why they exist and perhaps one of these days I will figure out one of them.

Aside from lack of decor and really any normalcy in my life right now, I feel like I found a sense of what being a real big kid is all about the other day. I wanted some classic blue box mac and cheese, Spongebob shapes of course, but as always when I crave such a thing I never know if I have enough butter to substitute for the milk I inevitably never have. This time was different, however, this time I not only had enough butter... I had MILK too. Talk about your ultimate big kid win.

Doing big things here in Denver. Big things, indeed.
Speaking of doing big things, this is how I found Sir after her morning walk and breakfast today. And you thought my having ingredients for boxed mac and cheese was big.


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Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Where Am I?

I never really realized how convenient knowing exactly where just about everything in town is until I moved across the country. The truth is, I'm one of the most directionally challenged individuals you'll ever meet in your life. On the very first day of my junior year of high school I drove myself to school for the first time, the school was no more than 10 minutes from my parents' house. Somewhere around 5 minutes into my commute I called my mom panicking because I was lost and didn't know where the road to school was.

Also the only app on my phone at the time was Snake and as far as I know that probably would have gotten me more lost than I already was.

Back to the phone call with my mom, she asked me what roads I was at so she could help get me back on track. I answer her with the name of the main road I was traveling on, to which she replied "that's the road your school is on". And so that's when we realized I can't find my way out of a paper bag.

Fast forward about 10 years from that phone call and I pretty much have navigating through Orlando down to a science, plus the drive to and from Tallahassee. Naturally I moved to unfamiliar Colorado because what fun is knowing where you are and not getting lost all of the time?

I've only driven a few places through town, usually to meet up with Sami or find myself some food. Mostly I just hand the keys over and say "Bear'sus take the wheel". Because there's no denying he's way better at directions than me, also he doesn't go full blown anxiety attack when he doesn't know where he is. So that's a nice change of pace from when I'm panicking behind the wheel.

The optimistic part of this story lives somewhere around the other day when I made a trip to Walmart and missed my turn on the way home. I missed my turn because it was a really, really clear day and there were these ginormous, postcard-like, mountains with perfect amounts of snow sitting on the tops of them, right in front of me. Obviously then I did what any vehicle safety conscience person did, I busted out my camera phone and took as many pictures as I could until there was one that I could send my friends that would do those big beauties some sort of justice.


It was around then I realized that getting lost isn't so bad when you've got all of these really big and new things to look at. I almost kept driving aimlessly towards them but I was low on gas and also Bear wasn't with me to take cool mountain pictures with me and obviously that's a really important thing to do when you go to mountains. Or at least that's what I've gathered from the depths of Instagram. 

Either way, I still have Florida tags on my car for now so that makes for a really, really good excuse for my shit driving (see also: completely lost and don't know where I am so I'm going slow so I don't get more lost). I guess once I change my tags over I'm shit out of luck. 

Or maybe I'll get a bumper sticker made that reads something like, "Directionally challenged driver. New to town and most likely lost." 

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Monday, October 20, 2014

The Messy Messy Bun

This shop is part of a social shopper marketing insight campaign with Pollinate Media Group® and Goody, but all my opinions are my own. #pmedia #GoodyGorgeous http://my-disclosur.es/OBsstV


I'll be the first to admit that one of my least favorite tasks in this world is washing and styling my hair. Partially because I'm lazy and partially because I don't have a lot of hair to begin with. I'm one of those people who lives in a messy bun the majority of my life and I like to think I've come to perfect a good messy bun which I consider to be way bigger of an accomplishment than it actually is. 

Today I'm going to share my (not so) big secrets on how I accomplish said messy bun because I'm a really good friend like that. Also the "messy" in this messy bun has two meanings because this is my go-to for second and/or third day hair. 


1. Give your hair a good brushing with Goody's Tanglefix brush to get out any knots you have going on and then put it in a ponytail. It should be noted that said ponytail doesn't have to be perfect or clean because we're going for messy.

2. Split your ponytail into to separate pieces.

3. Take one side of your ponytail and lightly wrap it to the right. Secure with a bobby pin. Again, don't worry about tucking the tail of your pony in because we're being messy and non-uniform.

4. Do the same thing in the opposite direction with the second ponytail.

5. Give your bun a little floofing until it looks picture perfect.

Voila. You have yourself a messy messy bun.


Goody Quikstyle paddle and Tanglefix brushes are on Buy 1 Get 1 Free at Walgreens right now through November 1st with your Walgreens Balance Rewards card (while supplies last) and there's no denying that's my favorite kind of deal. Both brushes have grown on me but the Quikstyle paddle is by far my favorite because it helps speed up drying time when I do wash my hair and I'm all for saving time in my morning routine!

Both brushes have unique characteristics that make them stand out from the rest of the brush world. Including, but not limited to, absorbent microfiber bristles in the Quikstyle paddle and gentle teeth in the Tanglefix brush that gently loosen tangles to ensure your hair is ready for the perfect messy messy bun.


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Wednesday, October 15, 2014

When Reality Made Me Cry

If you came here to not read about moving you're probably going to be disappointed. Then again, if you came here to read about moving you'll probably be disappointed too. Mostly because I'm still adjusting and there's still boxes everywhere and Sir looked at me with a weird eye last night so I'm convinced I'm some type of villain for uprooting her normal life.


Yes, people often tell me I worry too much.

Anyways, I had a couple of nice people ask me how I'm really handling this big adjustment and today I figured I'd just kind of write it out from the start since I haven't exactly been serving out much more than pictures of Sir and that list of strange things I've stressed about that I posted on Monday.

I guess I should start with the night we drove across the state line of Kansas and into Colorado. Kansas was exhausting, to say the least. No offense to the Kansans out there, but driving through your state for 6 hours was boring and monotonous and never ending. It's ok because I said "no offense". By the time we made it to the Colorado state line the sun was setting and we had been in the car for 10 hours that day, not to mention the 12 hours we spent in the car the previous day, we were both exhausted and hungry.

Starving may be a more accurate word to describe our overall state because I made it a point that we weren't stopping until we hit the "Welcome to Colorful Colorado" sign. The sun was going down and I wasn't about to miss that photo opportunity.


I would come to grow extremely thankful of said decision and photo op once I got a taste for the boring drive that is the two-ish hours between the Colorado state line and lively Denver. Let's just say it was about as exciting as Kansas.

After we got the coveted photo and stopped at Subway for a quick bite to eat, the sun decided to retire for the night and it was just Bear, Sir, and myself on the very dark and open road. Bear was in the driving zone and I just, sort of, got way too deep in my head. I guess you could say that's when the first of my of breakdowns I've had over this move went down.

And by "breakdown" I mean that I started sobbing and questioning my decision to move, and contemplating what it would take to turn everything around and go back to my familiar little apartment and my familiar little life in Florida. Basically reality quickly set in when we crossed that line, add in a some serious exhaustion and a dash of cabin (errr... car?) fever, and I was a stage 5, Lindsay Lohan level, disaster.

The next day wasn't much easier thanks to some complications with moving in our apartment, causing us to spend our first two nights together in Denver sleeping on a friend's sofa bed. It was hard to feel like I was home when we really weren't in our home yet. Which sounds a little dramatic, and it probably is, but after a week of traveling across the country you're not really in your right mind. Then again, I'm not normally in my right mind so there's also that. I could feel myself relying on Bear for all of my comfort and happiness through those first two nights and there was no way I was going to find happiness in this new life if I didn't find it myself.

So, that Friday night Bear had to work. I would be completely alone in our VERY unpacked apartment, with no cable, internet, food, and a very low supply of wine. Bring on the dramatics again because that was the night I put the bookshelf together backwards and completely lost my shit. That would be the night we've since referred to as the night a bookshelf drove me to drink. And it did. Heavily.

We have a bar conveniently close to our new complex, so I decided I was going to trot my happy ass over there and have a drink. By myself. On a Friday night. Fortunately, or maybe thinking about it now unfortunately, the bartenders had an idea of who I was thanks to Bear who, apparently, had been counting down my arrival with all of them for months. I think I was served about 4 or 5 "welcome to Denver" Fireball shots that night. Throughout my taking down those shots I noticed a table of friends who appeared to be having a damn good time. Those assholes were laughing and singing and cheers'ing. The nerve.

It was around then that reality once again kicked my ass. I choked down some tears and then a mixed vodka shot the sweet bartender handed me. By the time Bear got off work, he met a very drunk me at the bar. To which he then got the entire story of the "damned bookshelf", complete with tears, and possibly a hiccup - though I can't really confirm or deny the last part but it seemed fitting considering the drunken state I managed to get myself into. According to Bear, he heard about the bookshelf for the remainder of that Friday night. I plead the fifth on that one.

Aside from waking up the next morning feeling like I had fallen from the top of one of the beautiful mountains I get to see every day now, I strangely woke up feeling a lot more content and comfortable for my surroundings. Thanks to a couple of Advil and about 8 gallons of water, I got up that day, raided Target's home decor and organization sections, and started making this apartment feel like a comfortable place for Sir to kick back and relax after all of the hard work she does every day.

As for now, I'm feeling a lot more comfortable, happy, and at home. Or at least I do for now. Everyone tells me I'll still have my bad days and they're probably right considering I'm going to attempt these stupid bookshelves again later today.

Here's to hoping it's acceptable to day drink in the name of these bastard bookshelves.

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