Author: itsotod

Two wrongs don’t make a right. (supposedly) So, If I bleach my hair, and my shower, nothing good is going to come of it.  I have come to the conclusion that there has got to be some sort of compromise here.  There is no way I’m going back to ashy taupe hair, so I’ve got to make some changes in other places.  Bleaching my hair stays (I’m not totally off my rocker), but I can at least lessen my chances of toxic waste poisoning and cancer, right?

Call it a quarter life crisis but with this new year, some new feelings and worries have come about in some of my usual “old faithfuls”.  When it comes to health around the house, in and on my body (Sean not included) I am making baby steps to educate and encourage myself to enhance the healthy-ish lifestyle I already live.  You are already rolling your eyes at me, I know, but if cancer surrounded you like it does me, trust me you’d be throwing away all your plastic cups too.  Plastic, this brings me to not the 1st, but second change I am making, ill explain in a minute.

I did it, I bought the Young Living Essential Oil starter kit and I’m ready to inhale some goodness.  I’m guessing I just got another eye roll, so just hear me out.  I have been told over and over again that “it’s all a mind game, and none of that stuff works”.  Well the fact that I didn’t want to barf on my way to Big Bear this year and I cleared up a cold sore and a monster pimple in less than 24 hours, all thanks to the hullabaloo of essential oils, I don’t care what you think.  If it’s all in my head, then at least I’ll be under the impression that I’m thinking clearly with a clear face and balanced equilibrium.  I have been plagued of itchy, dry, eczema ridden, ring worm infested skin since I was little.  After just 3 days of tea tree oil on my recent bout of ring worm, I am cleared up and can go back to short sleeves at the gym. Do you need more examples, I could keep going …but lets move on.

So, why am I ditching plastic? Remember when you saw on the news that you shouldn’t leave your water bottle in the hot car because it was poisoning your water, well Exhibit A.  I realized that every time I microwaved (don’t even get me started on my new feelings about the microwave) leftovers in our plastic tupperware, I was essentially boiling the plastic toxins into my food, yummy.  One of the purposes of most essential oils is to help diminish the toxins in your body and if I’m adding EO’s into a plastic water bottle to drink, I’m pretty much defeating the purpose.  In order to not have the EO’s draw all of the toxins out of my water bottle and then just drink them all down, the simple switch to glass was obvious.

Are you still with me? I promise not to push this on you, I’m just playing show and tell. Not only am I avoiding plastics, I’m thinking twice when I make my Target run for the usual Gain Laundry detergent, and 409 cleaner.  Instead of buying the name brands, I have found a line of “clean” cleaning products that actually work and I can still get them at Target (WIN).  Even though you can get all of Mrs. Meyer’s Clean Day products online, I wouldn’t then be obligated to pass through the shoe aisle, and try on 8 different sweaters, and contemplate needing new pillows, and coming home with a new candle, so (Sorry, Sean) I still get to make Target runs.

There are a bunch of different things I want to learn and try within this lifestyle movement (I won’t call it a switch, yet) and If you’ll have me, Id like to let you know what I find.  I’ll tell you the truth when crap really doesn’t matter and the name brand is just fine, and when the extra $3 on organic isn’t necessary, all I ask is that you don’t put me down for making a positive change.  If it works, I’ll share, if it doesn’t, I’ll let you tell me I’m wrong.  Deal? Deal.

 

Maybe it is because I am watching Grease, but I only use this mug when I’ve got more than tea brewing (Sean can attest). Its a new year and I am feeling inspired. There are a lot of people (some of whom I’ve never even met in person) who bring my creative bubbles to the top, and make me want to write. 

I would not be sitting here typing in the notes section of my over capacity iPhone 6 if it wasn’t for my handsome man and my family (duh) but also the Talented Miss Hannah Hagler of Champagne Lifestyle, Lisa Allen of LunchPails and Lipstick (ok, talk about living THE DREAM), Mom and planner of the year, Carrie Traver of PureLavish Events, and the Sparkle Queen herself, Miss Hayley Paige. These people (without even knowing it) give me more than inspiration but encouragement and drive to do the things my heart feels important. Thank you doesnt even begin cover it.  

I have always wanted to write a blog, but never really had a topic. Fashion, make-up, cooking, fitness. I love it all and could never pinpoint just one thing I was passionate enough to stick to, which is why I didn’t. I am passionate about so much, so why not let you in on all my secrets. In this new year, I wont call it a resolution but a goal. My goal is to pour my heart out, give advice (wanted or not), inspire, motivate and excite you. I am all those things, and you deserve to be too. 

As I lay here and listen to Rizzo sing, just before Danny takes thunder road by storm, I am remembering why I love this movie so much. Laugh, cry, smile, frown, it gives you all of ’em, and that, is the goal. 

We already toasted to the new year, so I’ll leave you with the clink of my tea cup and the (silent) crackle of my gas fireplace. If you need me, I’ll be here desperately searching amazon for red Candies and a black tube top. 

Tell me about it, Stud. 

Its 38 degrees outside and Im laying in the tiny bedroom upstairs of my Grandparents cabin. There is something about finishing a year and beginning the next one here. The retro Conair hairdryer in the bathroom and the left over bottle of Skin So Soft that Mamaw brought up no less than 20 years ago makes me feel at home. I cant look out the bathroom window without hearing Mamaw’s voice call to me downstairs and tell me to put my hood on so I didn’t get cold, as she watched Cameron and I play in the snow, while she curled her hair.   There is a lot of pressure that comes with New Years Eve. Pressure to do something fancy, pressure to be dressed in something sparkly, pressure to kiss someone at midnight, just so much stuff you are “supposed” to do. The year I decided to say screw it and came here with family and close friends, we put our Pj’s on and rang in the new year with a blanket of fresh snow and bottle of cheap Champagne, was a game changer. There is no way I’d rather start fresh than with white glitter on the ground and fresh air, (I could live without the inevitable New Year’s day hangover but we cant win ’em all). 

2016 will be a hard year to top. I married the man of my dreams and Im not sure there is anything that will top the bad ass house party we threw to celebrate our vows. Its exciting to see the posts on social media of everyone’s top moments of the year. New Years Eve seems to be the day we all get to re-stoke on the awesome things that happened in the last 365 days and forget about the less than perfect moments. With the strike of the clock we get to start over, but bring with us the moments that got us this far.  

Gypsy is starting a commotion downstairs and the fire is dying. Its about to snow and everyone is pouring their 1st glass of the day. On this over rated and surge-charged uber ride of a night, remember to enjoy the ones you are with, be safe, say a prayer at midnight, and bring on the clean slate! 

Sparkles and Cheers to the coming year! 

What is even happening!? I woke up from a magical sleep, to a sinus infection and the news that Tarek and Christina have been split up SINCE MAY. What the!? Clearly, I need to go back to bed. Yesterday, I baked a pie with a sleeping baby strapped to me, drank Champagne and ate cookies. Today, this. Am I being punished? Oh and did I mention my spotty dotty dog has a Bah-Hum- Stomach Bug and couldn’t go to Bark City, Jeeze. I vaccinate my kid, and she still gets kicked off the playground. Its Christmas and we’re all in misery! I haven’t always been a self- proclaimed super nanny, but this year I feel that I have really earned the title. Ive been faced with terrible 2’s, learning the Hotdog dance, monitoring inappropriate YouTube channels for children and thw occasional confusion between Santa and God. Id say Ive earned a crown or something, but thats all relative in the scheme of things. Lately, I really enjoy spending my time wiping noses and counting to five. Makes me feel important. But any who. 

Isnt it strange how everyone complains so much about the holidays? The obligation to see the people that are essential to your being. When did spending time with family and friends become such a hassle? Im pretty sure the only difference between having dinner with your parents in July and in December is your choice of footwear and probably the pandora station playing in the restaurant. Can we all please just get over it and be happy? If you think the holidays are “hard” and annoying now, just wait till your current situation isn’t a thing anymore. How are you going to feel then? Sure, the 91 and the 405 freeways really suck, but just be glad you have a reason to drive on them. You have a job, you have a family, you have a reason to be in the car.

Last Saturday I worked, got off a little late, and yeah getting back in the car and driving another 30 minutes would have been cooler if I could fly, but I did it. Not because I HAD to but because I wanted to. I truly look forward to any and all holiday “obligations” that Im unspokenly (yea, I think I made that word up) committed to. I wouldn’t be anything I am unless, every year Tom put way too many lights on the house or Craig poked fun of me for something. If my dad didn’t fall off the couch laughing at Cousin Eddie or Cameron didn’t wear his “Christmas shirt” (you all have it, the nice shirt you keep for casual family gatherings where you have to not look like the smelly kid in the family) at least twice. I am me because Tam takes the tree down as soon as Gramma leaves and because Travis finger paints poetic paintings that make us all look bad in the gift giving department. 

So ya, you wont see me complaining. This year, Im here to embrace obligations, and let it go, (let it go)! 

If you need me, Ill be at the kids table with a black olive on each finger and yes Damnit,  I WANT TO BUILD A SNOWMAN!  

Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals! 

In middle school, as a teenager, in college, a young adult, hell basically a girls whole life (mine, anyways) I have been trying to convince the world that it’s totally ok for a girl to have guy friends.  This has inevitably backfired on me since the day I started the campaign, but I’m a pusher, so I keep on.  It’s the the God’s honest truth that I grew up with brothers, and I just like boys in general.  I wanted to kiss the cute ones, hangout with the cool ones, and I married the perfect one.  Call me (boy) crazy.  Anyways, I am absolutely confident enough in my relationship with my husband to be able to hangout with my friends, no matter the gender, and have myself, my husband, and my friends all be comfortable and on the same page.  It is what you make of it. End of story. That one anyway.

Since we moved into our bungalow, we have loved it, great space, awesome neighborhood, and pretty cool neighbors, for the most part.  When you move in a new place, you always wanna make nice with a few important people.  The ones directly next to you, the ones with kids and the ones with the coolest dog (other than Gypsy).  So far, we’ve succeeded. Day 2 of living here we meet example one, neighbors directly next to us.  Great people, small family, only staying for a short time while their house is re-modeled, she’s pregnant and their 2-year-old is the cutest ever.  All is well. Until it’s not.

Ya know those people who are just a little too nice? The kind that make everything seem like they mean well and have good intentions but then the famous “gut feeling” kicks in and you’re just like, NO.  Well, enter the dad.  Mind you, this is a fellow fire family (different department), so naturally Sean and I offered both our phone numbers, and said to please let us know if they ever need anything when he is at work, and not to hesitate.  We honestly expected this to turn into a fire wife friendship and the occasional bbq.  Not so much.  Since this encounter the wife has been your run of the mill neighbor, waving when we pass and saying hello when obligatory, but past that, nothing.  The dad on the other hand, comes over everyday and just wants to chat.  I’m pretty sure we have 2 Bud lites in our fridge that he brought over one day to “hang”.  Last week, I get a knock on the door and its him and the baby and he tells me that she wants to see the turtles.  Of course, Of course, come on in.  After getting asked what I was doing that night and it was confirmed that Sean was at work and wouldn’t be coming home, I started to feel my gut kick me.  Just a little off.  And keep in mind, they have our phone numbers, I know we live 3.5 feet away and share a wall, but a text or call would be cool before catching me in my P.J.s more than once a week.

So, it’s Saturday night. Described my Miss Bradshaw as, “Date Night”, and I’m studying. Apparently that’s my life now, but I’m not complaining and our all too comfortable and slightly socially awkward neighbor knocks on the door.  I get up and walk over to the door (in sweats, obviously) , and he’s alone.  Obviously, not going to use the turtle excuse this time.  I don’t even open the screen door because its like, ok I’m home alone, what do ya need.  “Hey, whats going on”, I’m trying to be as neighborly as possible as I stand behind my clearly drawn line in the sand.  Im not usually at a loss for words, but what comes next took ’em right from me.

“Hi, What are you doing right now? I saw that just your car is here, and was wondering if you wanted to ride bikes with me and go get a drink at the bar down the street. My wife and daughter are in LA and won’t be home for hours”

Ummmm, No.

I may be the biggest girls and guys can be friends advocate on the planet, but this isn’t college buddy.  On what planet is that an appropriate question.  We are not family friends, we do not hangout, you obviously know my husband isn’t home, and no, we will never be on a “going to get a drink together” level.  I don’t know if it’s because I’m that old married lady who doesn’t want to change out of her PJs on a saturday night, but the ICK factor was real tonight.  When I found my words, I told him I was studying and thanks anyways.  Number one rule, don’t piss them off (I watch enough Law and Order to be an SVU Sargent) So I kindly denied him, but cannot stop thinking about how awkward this encounter was. All I can do is ask myself, would he have asked me when his wife was home? Why doesn’t she ever really want to chat? Are they unhappy? Why is he here? She leaves a lot and takes the baby but not him.  She is pregnant. Why is he here? Why didn’t he call first? He should be calling Sean, Not me.  Why is he here?

Seriously, What just happened? I still think its fine to have dude friends, but not fine to go for drinks with strangers.  Talk about a “Seriously, I can’t even” moment.  Moral of this story, lock your doors ladies, my neighbor is looking for attention.

Tonight, I had dinner with one of the greatest men, I thought I knew. All of my 25 years I’ve known Robert Troyer, to me, “Popo”, to others Bob, as the man who could fix anything and makes the worlds best homemade ice cream. How many times have I had to interview someone in my family for a school project, about 100 I’m sure. How have I never asked him these questions? I am admitting to myself that it is because I have taken him for granted. The Grandpa who lives close to me and I see more often than just on holidays. Why I would interview someone I see all the time, I already know him. Wrong.

For 25 years I have known this man, my grandpa, as the man who would pick me up in his Sears work truck on his lunch breaks and take me to get ice cream at Foster’s Freeze, down the street. The man who never let me win when we played Rummi and who would let me play doctor for hours on end while he really wanted to watch the game. The man who never left without fixing every door that squeaked, or cupboard that didn’t close. The man who caught geckos with me on our family trip to Hawaii and was never too good to play in the pool with my brothers and me. The super man who knew the answers and could make it work again. Popo. Tonight, at dinner, I asked questions.

Robert Troyer was born at Long Beach Community Hospital, where years later a surgeon would tell him that the tonsils he had removed weren’t thrown away but thrown down the hill, the hospital was perched on. Palm trees lined the streets that the Circle Drive-in was on, and when a group of monkeys got loose from the zoo, he got to keep one. Long before he had a monkey for a pet, Robert’s dad drove to California with his brothers and sisters from Oklahoma. At age 3, memories started to stick, and he was able to remember that his dad worked at McDonald Douglas and his Uncle Dan was the brains of the family.

In the 8^th grade Bob’s oldest sister came home with her best friend, Shirley and something clicked. Shirley had a boyfriend who she would later marry and have a daughter with, but that didn’t stop him from telling her she had a cute backside and flirting when she’d come around. From meeting in the 8^th grade to watching Shirley get married and raise a daughter, he always knew she was something more. Years passed and after Tammy’s dad passed away, Bob swooped in to take a chance. Fast-forward and Shirley and Bob are married and Tammy has a Step-Dad.

Before working for Firestone Rubber Company for 12 long years, The Army needed help in Korea, and Bob was drafted to ship out. Working in supply, Bob was able to stay out of harms way, when delivering boots and supplies to other soldiers. For 16 years after returning home, Custom Drapery was what brought home the bacon until retirement. At age 57, it was time to enjoy evening walks around the park with Shirl and a game of pool on Fridays. Retirement has been enjoyable but settling down didn’t happen over night. After officially retiring, every house on the block’s front yard was perfectly manicured and there was never a need to hire-out because the handy works of Bob were readily available.

Not only did Bob find a Wife in Shirley, he gained a daughter, Tammy who would later bless him with 3 grandkids of his own. We may not share any blood, or genetic traits, but we still get a lot from our Popo. When there wasn’t a yard to be raked, or a washing machine to be fixed, there was always a grandchild ready to play.

When asked what events stood out in Bob’s life, it wasn’t going to war that he answered with; it was the passing of his parents and his sisters passing away. Watching his wife recover from triple bi-pass surgery, his daughter survive cancer…twice, taking his grandson to the hospital after he slipped and fell on vacation in Hawaii. It was watching the people he loved suffer, and how it made him feel. It wasn’t winning an award, or getting recognized, it was the feelings that his family gave him that stood out. I may not have gotten my eyes from my Popo, but I like to think I got a lot of my family pride from him. When there is a bond as strong as Bob’s to his family, you don’t need to share a bloodline.

Today there weren’t any custom draperies to hang, or any washing machines to repair, but there was a household and a wife to take care of. Pride in not his neighbors lawn, but in his own rose garden, and this time, a chemo appointment listed under his name. How could it be his turn? He has already watched more than half his family suffer, why should he have to have a go at it. Waking up in wonder, and going to sleep at night not knowing what will happen has become Bob’s biggest thought. With well-developed cancer, everyday is a little different than it used to be. The doctor’s appointments are his, and the guessing game is one we don’t know how to win, yet. With the family Bob has worked so hard to get, he has all he needs to beat the bad, and bring on the good.

Tonight I had dinner with a super man that I thought I knew, and then I had dessert with a man I’m proud to know, and call Popo.

It’s been seven days since the Presidential election and Ashton Kutcher is still nowhere to be found. I’m starting to think that we are not in fact being Punked. That’s not why I’m here, but I have learned a buncha stuff in the last seven days.  Here it is.

In the last seven days my brain as grown a bit.  They say you learn something new everyday and ya know, I think I did.  Let’s recap, some of the biggies (feel free to take notes) turkeys take an extremely long time to defrost, getting your arms waxed does not hurt at all, the dollar tree is one of the greatest places maybe ever, It is important to remember that memories will last a lifetime, and eventually the wedding video we were supposed to get will have someday become obsolete anyways so really, its fine…really…I swear…(kinda), you need to add more than a Monday workout to lose more than one pound in 3 weeks (eye roll), and puppies are not easier than children (I don’t think, but I’m willing to bet on it)

My hunky husband refuses to stray from tradition and insists on turkey with all the fix ins’  on the coming day of thanks, so what does that mean…we have been placed in charge of the bird. Thanks a lot.  In past years, I have been in charge of drinks which ended with me showing up with 8 bottles of wine, so this year may require some research.  Needles to say my pin boards have been blowing up with turkey basting for dummies, and how to not ruin Thanksgiving.  Not to mention the magazine on the ottoman informed me that it will take days to defrost the damn thing.  Are you even kidding!? What am I thankful for this year? Aside from wine tasting on black Friday, I must say, 2016 was one hell of a year, so my list of things to thank, are one bountiful harvest.  I’ll let you know next week what I say when its my turn to go, after Grace but before stuffing.

I have been trying to stay motivated and really get this booty of mine kicked back into shape, so every Monday morning Jade and I have been sweating for God knows what.  Yesterday, I stepped on the scale and although I will say, I am feeling…tighter in places, one lousy pound has been shed.  Fact; you have to eat healthier along WITH the sweat, otherwise your are just cramping for fun.

Alright, here it goes, this my friends is called faking it.  It’s “totally fine” that all we will have to remember our wonderfully perfect wedding will be our incredible photos, and our memories.  Last week, I found out that our not quite finished, 11 hours of wedding footage, was stolen out of the car of our dear friend who videoed our wedding.  Yes, I feel terrible for Aaron not only having been completely violated by someone with the nerve to defile someone else’s property, but he also had to break the news to me.  Aaron has known me most of my life and yeah, he knew id pretty much flip my shit.  With the news I somehow found it deep within my soul to bury my rage and remember, it wasn’t his fault, and the important thing is that I’m still married to Mr. Unicorn man, and that’s all I need.  I think. But maybe it would have been nice to get to see our ceremony, and our first dance, and my dad’s speech, but seriously, its fine. Im fine. It’s not about the dress remember, but ohhhhhh the dress, on the dance floor, the cake, the flowers, the WHOLE DAMN DAY!. Gone, but not forgotten. EVER. Lets move on before I cry.

Its been two weeks and we still have a puppy! I know that people say it’s not even close to the same as having a kid, but I’m pretty sure the whole, eat, sleep, poop routine goes for both.  I am confident that if we continue to keep up the good work with this small fur child, we should be fine with a human. I think. we’ll see, we’ve got time.

Its time to leave for school, so I’ve gotta get the pup corralled before I go, We’ll talk later. Start defrosting that turkey!

I really don’t want to go and get all political on you, because let’s be honest, I don’t know Jack about politics.  The extent of my knowledge and interest stems from my 12th grade Government class, and that is based solely on the fact that my teacher was rad and read tabloids to the class on Fridays.

I’m white, I’m a girl, I’m a Christian, a Californian, a wife, and apparently a Democrat.  I truly want everyone to be happy and live their life to its full potential, whatever it may be.  I have friends and family who are gay, and I will proudly go to their wedding, and celebrate them becoming parents, just like I will my straight friends and family because that is what makes me happy.  Seeing others succeed really excites me.  Sure, im pretty much ok with most ideals people choose as long as it is what they really believe in and what makes them happy. It is their own damn prerogative.  Whether you are a cat or dog person, right-handed or left, blonde or brunette, it isn’t going to change the way I feel about your heart.  I like to base my relationships with people off of what it is about them that entices me.  I’m not going to trust you until you are proven trustworthy,  I want you to show me why I should trust you. This is how I build relationships.  People make mistakes, but if you know someone’s heart, mistakes can be overlooked.

I’m not going to tell you that I am right-wing or left, Im not even sure I know which is which, but I like to think that I have two wings that fly me where I need to go in life.  How can someone be so far in one direction and stand up straight?  Im going out on a limb here, telling you what I really think, but this is my blog and as far as I know I still have freedom of speech, so I’ll do what I want.  Donald Trump creeps me out, always has always will. He hasnt ever proven to me that I should like him, so I wont. He just seems icky, from his self-tanner to his comb over, just so many wrongs that wont ever be right to me.  I wouldn’t call myself a feminist, but im a chick so I guess that makes me a little biased.  I understand that yes,  guys talk, and say things that they shouldnt about girls. Newsflash, Girls do too. The fact that conversations were had, with our PRESIDENT with such things said, without any sort of acknowledgement of it being somewhat wrong, is unsettling.

I really don’t know if Hillary would have been a wonderful President, I told you, I have a 12th grade education in politics.  My theory is that having been the First Lady, she watched someone she trusts and loves, man the Country for a while, she had to have picked up a few tips, and pillow talk has got to have some legitimacy here.  She shares a bed with a former President, you would think we could feel confident in him giving her some words of wisdom.

My bottom line, is that it is scaring me how much confidence we have in “famous” people.  Donald Trump is probably most popularly known for being a rich reality TV celebrity.  A man who coined the term “You’re Fired” is the President of our Country. Take a second and think about it.  When you go to Sin City this summer, you should get shit faced and make poor decisions in the Trump Tower, and then realize that while you are passed out on the floor of the lobby, he has his feet up in the OVAL OFFICE.

Since apparently being a successful business person and building an empire based on money and worth is in the requirements to be president, forget Kanye, im voting for Kris Jenner next time around.  Think about it, she has literally birthed a puppy mill of successful children, has millions of dollars, and manages the lives of her entire family all the while having her hands in numerous other cookie jars that bring in the cash flow.  I stopped watching KUWTK when I realized that it was making my anxiety levels worse, but im telling you, I may be onto something here.  At least her spray tans are legit and she has good hair.

I pray to God that somewhere deep within depths of Donald Trumps tuppe is some sort of political and moral know how. I do. My ballot has been cast and I’ll say it, I lost.  Me, being the competitive person I am, just cried a little knowing that I lost at anything. I’m in it to win it.

Today, while I was studying for my OTA 101 test (which was trickier than anticipated, but I did fine) I read a few things that hit me in an unexpected place.  It seemed to have been read in an appropriate time, and was a fitting message.

“Spirituality is the aspect of humanity that refers to the way individuals seek and express meanings and purpose and the way they experience their connectedness to the moment, to self, to others, to nature and to the significant and sacred”

(Puchalski et al., 2014 AOTA)

I hope you realize that it doesn’t matter who you are or what you belive in, but that you are human.  You are allowed to have an opinion, and you get to make the decision of whether you voice it or not.  The difference between intrapersonal skills and interpersonal skills is the way you choose to deal with things (that was on my test too).  Intrapersonal skills are having a self-awareness and a sence of self-acceptance, I take pride in mine, and at the same time I am very aware of the fact that not everyone thinks I am funny, and not everyone is going to agree with me (although I recommend it, I’m not pissed if you don’t).  While its important to be self-aware, interpersonal skills are also an attribute we need to remember, it’s that of understanding and being able to relate to others.  Although, I didn’t necessarily want Donald to win, he did, and just because you may have voted for him, im not going to stop talking to you, because i’m confident in my ability to understand, and agree to disagree.

Lets just all take a deep breath, say a little prayer (to whoever you want), hope for the best and agree to disagree.  I don’t like being wrong, but if I’m wrong about this one,  you will hear it first from me.  So here we go, ‘MERICA, we can all just drink a little extra on the 4th of July and call it a draw.

I’m seriously not even sure what day it is.  Ill just call it “Somday”.  The past 6 days have been quite the run around.  I managed to survive.  I’m sorry, I know you were worried (eye roll).  I hope you have stock in Starbucks because I absolutely made you some money this week. You’re welcome.  Im not sure why but my teachers decided to have everything possible due and chose to give tests in every class this week.  In between homework and scantrons, I managed to have dinner with my grandparents, adopt a puppy, attend a Halloween party and take my mom to the hospital.  Like I said…what day is it? Forgive me for typos, and run-ons, I haven’t decided what I wanna talk about yet…

Lets start with Tam.  Most importantly, she is ok.  In the midst of a vampire hunt, me being the vampire, a cocktail in and Sean chasing me around the party in a blonde wig (Buffy, attempting to slay) Brico calls in a panic because Tam hit the floor and things got weird. Here I go, in boss mode. (Apparently I’m bossy and yada yada, I’m in charge now.)  Considering Sean and I both, in one way or another, work at Hoag Hospital, we made a pit stop, I washed the blood off my face and Sean flipped his wig (yep, I meant that one, too).  So we get there, clean faced and wasted (him, not me) Tam is looped, and we’re all worried.  We’re at Hoag so naturally the Housewife Daughter is working, and I’m trying not to stare and I pull the “let me do it, I work here” and suddenly we’re admitted.  A one night stay at Hotel Hoag later and Tam goes home… Long story short, we have no Idea.  Tam, is OK!

Now that we know Tam is ok, lets move on.  WE BOUGHT A ZOO! just kidding, WE GOT A PUPPY! Well, we’re getting a puppy.  We MET her on Friday.  Sweet fur baby girl is everything I didn’t think I wanted.  After debating on getting a dog for the past 2 years and a few google searches later, Gypsy is coming home on Wednesday.  Do we have time for a puppy? No.  absolutely not. But hey, we have a good home to give, and I like to cuddle.  Did I mention she is so damn cute.  Poor thing was left for dead, drinking puddles and eating God knows what in Bakersfield of all places. No one deserves to live in Bakersfield, not even a dog.

I’ve always known that at some point, all dogs go to heaven, and usually before their time at shelters, but I never actually thought about it until looking for a pup and seeing the words “KILL DATE” listed next to the photos.  Are you even kidding me!? A human is going to kill a fur ball just because they marked the calendar?  STOP. So, no breeders allowed, we will do what we can and save a sweet baby from their pre-mature expiration date.  Our baby girl Gypsy was rescued, from a kill shelter (who found her as a stray), by Fur Baby Rescue in LA.  So not only was Gypsy saved from the streets of Bakersfield, she was saved from a God forsaken kill shelter, and then from the heart of the LA ghetto.  Yes, I mean South Central.  Wednesday morning our traveling Gypsy will come to her forever home, where she will meet her two older shell brothers, we have turtles, Phill (two L’s because Phil with one L “ran away”) and Tod, and live happily ever after with us.

I’ve never been one to think I would be a crazy dog lady, but we have already spent unmentionable amounts of money on toys, special shampoo, pee pads, a state of the art leash, and a number of unnecessary necessities on said fur child and she’s not even here yet.  We’ve gone fur crazy.  Just promise me one thing, If I start buying things for the house that have paw prints or corny sayings about not drinking alone because the dog is home, smack me.  I promise my house won’t ever smell like pee and i’ll lint roll you before you leave, hold me to it.

 

 

Whats my name again?

I never wanted a sister, I’ve told you that. I don’t need one, I have 2 big brothers that were more than capable of mending my broken hearts, and teaching me how to hang, all the while never having to share my clothes. Why would I want someone who would steal my crap and possibly be prettier than me!? No. But any who, I love my big brothers. Having said that, I take extreme pride in being a Ferré. My parents are rad, my brothers are too legit, and I like being part of that… Oh yeah, and I’m the only girl and I’m a Princess. (Hair flip)

THEN I went and married handsome cowboy prince Sean and things got weird. Suddenly, I’m an O’Donnell? We all know how GaGa I am for my hubs so let me get one thing straight… I am an O’Donnell and proud of it! I mean look at the guy, and you’ve met him (I recommend it if you haven’t) he’s like some sort of merman unicorn who sprays glitter on fires and cooks! Bottom line, I love being Mrs. O’Donnell. But this brings me to my point.

I’m 25 years into this life, and for those 25 years I’ve been Tay Ferré.  So now, I’ve got to fill out all this paperwork, and write my name on school work, and sign credit card receipts and tell people who I am and Im like… “Taylor FeeeeeO’Donnell” I think people are starting to think I have a stutter. (If you do, call me, I know a bunch of speech therapists)

I blame Danielle, she let me in on this blessing of a secret called HitchSwitch which makes it all too easy to change your name. You really need to look into it, its genius. But now I seriously don’t know who the hell I am.  Am I supposed to like change my style too? God, I hope not, because I’m not gonna lie, I like myself.  I mean… id be friends with me.

I like to think that Mrs. O’Donnell is the best version of Tayferre, so lets stick with that. I might still be @tayferre on Insta (@tayO’Donnell, doesn’t rhyme) and let’s be real, ill ALWAYS be a Ferré, we’re just too legit to quit. So I going to claim both, and just keep a thing of white-out with me for when I screw up paperwork.
It may take me 25 more years to spell O’Donnell (two N’s and two L’s… no F) but that’s ok, it wont ever get old being married to Mr. O’Donnell.  (yes, that was a Coyote Ugly reference)
If you are engaged, I know like half of you are or might as well be… maybe start practicing your new “sign and print” because trust me, you will mess it up.
My coffee cup is empty, I’ve gotta go, lets talk later!