Author: itsotod

I have a fieldwork analysis, a SOAP note to write, and a quiz to study for, but I’m here instead. Its the end of October and nearly 100 degrees outside. So, here I sit, in the sun. Lets chat.
I wanna let you in on a couple secrets. The beach in the winter, the ocean when it rains, and NYX lipstick. (Among other things)
If you aren’t from around here, you may not know just how annoying the beach can be in the summer.  But on days like today, when the school bells ring, and the 91 fwy traffic reverses, that us beach people can finally find peace in the sand.  Its 85 degrees 3 feet from the water, and not a soul who doesn’t belong in sight. A peaceful reminder of why living in California is 2nd to none. I know there is a lot to see in the world (stay tuned for our Europe trip in July) but I honestly don’t know if I could ever survive anywhere but here.  If you haven’t seen it, the ocean when it rains is one of the most magical spectaculars of them all.  Its almost as if, the waves take a break and let the sky have a turn. Things settle and turn up all at the same time and in someway its satisfying and terrifying all at once.
So there are my peaceful easy feelings, now lets move on…
There is that butterfly feeling I get when I walk out of a M.A.C store with my matte black bag and a new lipstick in tow, BUT something you may want to know, NYX Matte Lipstick, that I get for 6 bucks at Target, is comparable or even, dare I say it… better! So much cheaper, and I can guarantee compliments on your lip pop.
While I’m at it, lets talk about the NYX eyebrow powder. Comes with an awesome salve to lay down the wild hairs, and the angled brush it comes with is the perfect size to shape with one swipe!

I also cant live without the Rosebud Salve I get from my mothership, NRFB. I know its lip balm, but I use it for rogue eyebrows and dry skin too.

When I having a glass of my Monte De Oro, Petite Syrah (not my usual Cab, but I switch it up for special sips) I cant bare pouring the bottled gold into anything other than my “Olivia Pope” glasses, (enter giant Popcorn bowl, and plush white house coat) from Crate and Barrel.

If you have been to our bungalow, you’ve seen and smelled the collection of lighted fragrances.  My current fave is the one my beloved Soulmate (not Sean, the other one, Tai) brought me. Its simple, from Marshall’s , but special with a wooden wick, making it crackle and pop, genius. My other obsession is the Indiana hand dipped, Warm Glow on our end table, if it wasnt on fire, id probably eat it.

So here are a few of my favorite things.. if there is something you aren’t telling me, you should re-consider how you treat your friends. We can’t share boys, because this isn’t high school, but let’s share secrets.

We’ve all got it. The guilty pleasure that makes us feel, WOMAN! It’s a new lipstick, it’s a tight pair of jeans, it’s just plain being naked (if you are the naked one, more power too ya), it’s whatever makes you feel sexy and amazing. Sometimes it’s a splurge on an expensive dress, or a drugstore lip gloss, but regardless of the price, it makes you feel it.  If you haven’t found it yet, I urge you to explore the possibilities. Doors will open.

I may have a giant drawer full of lingerie, but I’m not going to lie, that’s not what gets me going (Sean would speak otherwise).  To be frank, there are a few items in said drawer that I’m not even sure how to put on, and forget taking it off, there is no way me or Sean would be able to climb that mountain.  With that said, I do love a good Vic’s spree, but thats not always what I’m looking for.  What really tickles me is pair of shaved legs, a glowing tan and a gigantic pair of sunglasses.  Essentially, all things that are summer, are what makes me feel sexy.  My hair is blonder, my skin is browner, and face is clearer.  Sexy to me is sandy feet, in a pair of cut-offs and an oversized sweatshirt.  When my hair is a mess but somehow looks purposely tousled, there isn’t any makeup on my face, mysteriously hidden by a pair of sunnies, and maybe even a pop of red on my lip.  This look might not be working for everyone, but that isn’t my point.  It works for me. When I’m ” feelin’ myself”, the possibilities are endless.

Everyone always talks about empowering women, well lets just empower ourselves to start.  Do the things that make you feel good.  You don’t have to make a million dollars a year, or run your own business, or start a charity (but how cool would that be!) to be successful. All you need to do is know how to put a smile on your own face.  I’ve said it to so many of my friends, happiness starts with ourselves.  To those of you who complain about not being able to find a man, or the 10 millionth awful date you’ve gone on, its not them, its YOU! (note: I told you before I wasn’t going to tell you what you wanted to hear) you attract what you exude.  Get happy and right with yourself, and someone who is happy and right with themselves will land in your lap (see what I did there).

Ok, so you are all sitting there telling me I’m wrong because you are happy with yourself and blah, blah, blah still can’t find a man.  K, take a second, and go DO the things that make you happy. Go be it, saying you are happy and being happy are two things, not one.  You have to live it first.  Feel sexy on your own, then show it to someone else later.  Being a fire wife, I find myself home alone a lot, and I LOVE IT! Yes, I prefer when hubs is home, but not ashamed to say being alone is amazing.  Remember that oversized sweatshirt I talked about? paired with a pair of undies and my slips, SEX POT! Light a candle, essential oil up, and just lay there, take a selfie or 10 and again, I’m feelin’ myself.  There can be so many different ways and things to put that important smile on your face.  So I challenge you, go find it. Try a new gel polish color, buy a new top, or hell just don’t brush your hair one day, find something that unexpectedly makes you feel good and run with it!

Let me know when you find it, we can compare notes on friday.

You might know the story already, but I’ll tell it again.  As you know, I am obsessed with my super hot husband and seriously still don’t believe how we met.

On April 8, 2009, my parents, grandparents, older brothers, friends, cousins, the whole 9 met at the infamous InCahoots line dancing bar, in Fullerton to celebrate the baby girl finally turning 18!  My brother, Cameron had been going to said place for months and always came home raving about how much fun it was.  Naturally, I begged and begged to go with him but being the ripe age of only 17, Tam (Mama, for those of you who aren’t lucky enough to know) said no.  So, having turned the magical number the Sunday before, that Wednesday it was ON! Cowboys, country music, and my favorite kind of celebration…ME! Being an April baby, not many of my friends had turned 18 yet, so we scrounged up a fake, and  somehow snuck Trish in too, I needed a wing woman.

After getting carded for the first time I walked through the doors of what seemed like Heaven at the time.  COWBOYS. EVERYWHERE. While the rest of my family hit the bar (Yes, I was the DD on my own birthday) I wandered my way around through the crowd.  Cameron, being the gent’ he is, pushed me around the dance floor and showed me the ropes, and I was in like Flynn.  Hooked for life.  As Im sitting at the table with everyone, I mentioned (apparently out loud) how baffled I was by the amount of cute guys in the room.  Remember, 18th birthday, give me a break. #boycrazy …Enter, Tim.

Better known as Timmy, my (like) older brother, returns with “well, which one do you want?”.  Without hesitation I point to the tall drink of water wearing a RVCA t-shirt and cowboy boots, the perfect combination of surfer boy and stud, and say “THAT ONE!”.  To my horror, (secretly, I welcomed it) Tim walks straight over and taps my pick of the litter on the shoulder and says, “hey man, you know the TushPush?” For those of you who don’t know the TushPush, it’s essentially a birthday lap dance that InCahoots had become famous for.  Chairs lined up in the middle of the dance floor where each birthday girl had a seat and gets grinded on for the entirely of the song.  YES, PLEASE!

Having clearly chosen a winner, Tim is answered with a hesitant, “ummm, yeah?” while Tim then proceeded to explain that him himself was not hitting on him, but had a birthday girl wish a specific wish.  A deal was made, and a match was met.  Tim, like the royal gesture he is, presented me (and my embarrassed red face) with my handsome cowboy prince, Sean.

Come time to actually preform, the TushPush, and being the good sport he is, Sean pulled out the full monte, took his shirt off and everything.  Did I mention my dad was there? And just like any fairytale goes, we danced the night away with stars in our eyes.  In the awkward small talk that is, bar convo, Sean asked if my birthday was actually that night, I answered with “no, it was last Sunday”. “April 5th?”, he asked.  I instantly thought it was kinda random that he knew the date of last sunday off the top of his head, but what came next was clearly a pick up line. “Thats my birthday, too!” …YEAH, RIGHT! But no, seriously, it is, we have the same birthday, him 2 years older.

Before leaving the heavenly place that would soon become my second home, I had gone to thank Handsome Prince Cowboy for making my night, he asked for my number (Score) and having taken my DAD’S advice, I had already written it down for him (Nailed it).  I got in the car and called Kathryn (fast forward 7 years), my Maid of honor, and told her, “Pick out your dress, I found the one I’m going to Marry.

And the rest is historic glitter and sunshine.  ❤

`I would like to start by thanking whoever the genius was that invented dry-fit, the service you have provided is of the utmost importance.  I should clarify, that I am guilty of the crimes I am about to discuss.

Lets face it, we are all apart of the yoga pant phenomenon that is “FALL”.  If it wasn’t for Starbucks and their pumpkin spiced crack, along with UGG Australia and Target selling those damn stretchy pants that we can’t seem to take off, we wouldn’t even know it was October.  Where the problem arises is when we are at Target, wearing our “yoga pants” drinking our crack, we get home and completely forget that our “yoga pants” are not actually intended for yoga, but solely for Target trips and pedicures.

As I said, I am guilty of watching my saturday morning cartoons (in my yoga pants) and realizing that my pilates class starts in 5 minutes and I should have left 5 minutes ago.  So, naturally I think, hell I’m already wearing yoga pants, ill just GO! 15 minutes into my cardio jump board class, I realize, wholly shit my water just broke.  Wait, I’m not pregnant…oh my, God I must have started my period…nope, ended last week.  EXHIBIT A! YOGA PANTS ARE NOT DRY FIT! So now, I get to finish the remainder of my pilates class looking like I had a bad dream and forgot my pull-ups.  This horrifying experience happened to me prior to discovering Lulu’s and having the entire Hurley Workout collection in my closet.  Never have I ever, since such events, even considered breaking a sweat (and it doesn’t take much) in anything other and an outfit that clearly states “dry-fit” on the tag.

I recently started going to OrangeTheory Fitness near my house, which I love. I seriously cannot imagine walking in that room not wearing my cutest workout outfit.  Not only because I sweat like nobodies business, but because (I’ll be honest) I go to the Newport location and the women I workout with are 3X my age and 3X hotter than I am. I need to keep up, with their cardio and their looks.  With that being said, the most recognizable Newport native that I see at the gym, who shall remain nameless but may or may not appear weekly on BRAVO TV, DOESNT (always) WEAR DRY-FIT! It really bums me out seeing you leave the class looking like you just had an accident and I would really like to stay under the impression that you are a mystical creature who takes lavish trips and doesn’t eat bread. Can you do me a favor and invest in a pair of Nike pants!

This may have been a big “DUH”, for you, which I hope it was…but If I can help out just one of you and teach you this important life lesson, I will be happy.  Friends don’t let friends get a perm, and friends don’t let friends wear cotton to the gym.  End of story.

I wrote this a while back, but I’m not ashamed to admit that my California burrito eating, pasta loving, wine drinking self has once again, taken over and its time for a re-vamp. Here’s to taking my own advice and re-tracing my steps.

Having seen every episode of Sex and the City before the age of 17, I have always liked to consider myself a Carrie (don’t we all).  Strong, confident, smart, and seemingly unaffected by bull shit until behind the comfort of her computer screen, where the BS becomes less “real life” and more “work related”  (or at least until sunday breakfast with the girls).

So I have a bunch to say.  Somedays it might make sense, other days… I apologize for confusing you.  I plan on giving the advice I’m asked for, and just plain venting about life.  I have a lot of favorites to share and a few “WTF’s” too.  I promise, I won’t tell you what you want to hear but more of what you probably need to hear.  I believe in telling it like it is and not fearing the backlash.  Here goes nothing.