When I was in 7th grade, I loved the store Limited Too (now known as Justice, I think). It was—and as far as I know, still is—the place where glitter, sequins, and overall cool shit for teenage girls, came to die.
It was a real treat to get new clothes from there, but really, I loved just going into the store and checking out all of the cool things there, including their wide collection of glitter body wash.
The thing about glitter body wash is, you can’t actually see the glitter while you’re scrubbing up, and it certainly doesn’t stay on your skin once you’re rinsed—so it’s overpriced, pointless, and completely addicting.
But somehow, I’ve made it years without the sparkly stuff, that is, until now.
During a shopping trip after the holidays, I came across a gift set of glitter bubble bath. I was immediately 12 again, and without hesitation, I tossed the box of 7 bottles in my cart. It was a mere $4.
While I don’t particularly love baths (you might recall a bath routine of mine earlier this year), they come in handy after a particularly rough workout session, or at the end of a stressful week.
And so, finally, I opened my gift set, lined them up like a true OCD patient, smelled them all, and made the oh-so-important decision of which one to try first. I went with the Vanilla Icing, in case you’re wondering.
There are times I worry I’ve gotten too serious or complicated—and then I’m reminded that even the smallest bit of sparkle is enough to keep things bright.
I never really considered myself as someone who was “into fitness.” That is, until I dated my last boyfriend, who didn’t give a flying fuck about being healthy or fit.
When it came to me needing time away from him to hit the gym, he would get angry. If I told him I was cooking turkey tacos, he groaned, because he didn’t appreciate healthy eats. However, I couldn’t eat his diet of Buffalo Wild Wings and pizza all the time, unless I wanted to be as big as a house.
So I tried to make things he liked to eat, but make them healthier. While my efforts went unnoticed (he was sleeping with a fat girl on the side), I’m happy to share my recipe with you, assuming your boyfriend gives a damn.
I made Bethenny Frankel’s Zesty Baked Chicken Wings from her book, The SkinnyGirl Dish. I nixed the bread crumbs, and they were still delicious, but here’s Bethenny’s recipe:
- 3 tb olive oil
- 1 tb dijon mustard
- Dash of cayenne pepper
- 1 ts minced garlic
- 1/2 ts salt
- 1/2 ts pepper
- 1 tb lemon juice
- 1/2 ts lemon zest
- 16 chicken wings, halved at joint with tips removed
- 1 c freshly grated parmesan
- 1 1/2 c whole wheat bread crumbs
Combine the olive oil, mustard, cayenne, garlic, salt, pepper, lemon juice, and zest in a bowl until well-combined. Pour the marinade over the wings in a Ziplock bag and let them sit in the fridge for at least 30 minutes (up to 4 hours).
In a separate bowl, combine the bread crumbs, parmesan, and parsley. When the wings are done marinating, coat them in the breadcrumb mixture and place on a pan. Bake at 425 degrees for about 30 minutes, rotating halfway through.
I made these with baked onion rings, and everything tasted delicious!
To be honest, I didn’t give a flying flip about Phillip Phillips before I saw him live as John Mayer’s opening act for the Born and Raised tour (which I saw three times).
Before I saw him the first time in July, my mom was the one swooning,”Aw, I wish I was going to the concert!” she told me. “If you see Phillip Phillips, tell him I voted for him on American Idol!”
Well, I didn’t get the chance to tell him. Instead, I got drunk and had way too much fun dancing to his Dave-Matthews-esque voice sing, “Get Up, Get Down.”
For Christmas, my mom and I bought each other his album, The World From the Side of the Moon, and it’s pretty much on repeat in my Jeep. I’m obsessed.
As with most of my musician crushes, this is not one based on looks alone. Let’s face facts, Mr. Phillips looks kind of like a dork, and his name is pretty stupid.
When my friend Kelly and I saw Mayer and Phillips in New Orleans in January, we got to talking about his peculiar name.
“Do you think that’s really his name?” she asked me.
I said what I say in every time of uncertainty.
“Let’s Google it.”
We were instantly educated—yep, that’s his real name, and actually, he’s a “Jr.,” so there’s more than one dude with that name running around.
So, his name is uncool, and the fact that his last name is the same as mine might mean we are related on some level, which is scary, but let’s not go there.
Phillip is from Georgia, which means he’s got a sexy southern accent. What’s even hotter? He’s like 23 years old, and is already beating me in the success bracket—drool worthy in my book.
So, there you have it. Another celeb crush for the books. And just to bring it on home, I took a video of him singing Michael Jackson’s, “Thriller,” at The New Orleans Area. Enjoy!
“Tell me a story long and true, We aren’t what we say, We are what we do, Just pieces of a puzzle to find where we stand just confused, So you are the moon that pulls me through the night.”—Phillip Phillips, Tell Me A Story
I can’t believe that I’ve made it until March without having a picture of my cat, Blanche, featured in this weekly spot.
One week from today, my sassy kitty will turn one (yes, I have a gift for her), although I’ve only had her for about eight months. In this short time, she’s become my companion, and has weaseled her way into my work; she was recently featured on the LSU website, and is also on the cover of my book, How I Fell, the print version.
I have been fortunate to have a cat by my side for most of my life. When I was just two years old, my parents took in a litter of kittens, with just one survivor; a calico tortie they named Lucky. Probably against her will, Lucky became my playmate, and the best secret keeper. She was my best, best pal until I was 19.
While I hurt tremendously when Lucky passed away, my family had already added a new cat to our clan. He was a cat I always wished for; a very orange, and very fat, cat that I named Orange Julius after the famous smoothie (hence my Twitter handle).
Julius was Lucky’s opposite—in your face, adventurous, and sometimes annoying. But I loved him all the same, and he moved with me to Louisiana. In July of 2012, Julius wasn’t acting his usual self. And one trip to the vet revealed that cancer had taken over. I said my final goodbyes to my beloved funny guy just a few days later, and even today, I miss him just as much.
I swore I would never get another cat. I had been blessed with two awesome ones and there was no way any other cat could compare. But after a year of being pet-free, I started to miss the company. So, I started looking online (casually) but wasn’t excited when I saw the kitties. My mom assured me I would, “Just know,” when I saw the one that was right.
A short week later, I came across a local shelter that had posted on Facebook that they had a “Golden Girls Litter,” and all of the kitties were named after characters of the show (Dorothy, Blanche, Rose, Stanley, Miles, and Sophia).
The character of Blanche Devereaux is my favorite on the show (which I love), and the kitty with her name stole my heart. She was even a calico tortie, just like Lucky. And so, after at least a month of back-and-forth with the adoption process (and money, and an interview, and a home-visit), Blanche came to live with me.
Book readers will remember that Blanche was brought into my home at the lowest point of my relationship with D. Some nights would find me curled up on the bathroom floor beside her, as I cried myself to sleep. Blanche licked the tears off my face.
Since then, our house is a much happier place—despite Blanche tearing up nearly everything she can with her very sharp claws. Regardless of how annoying she is, she is always granting me a good morning meow, and is always waiting for me at the front door when I arrive home.
And just last week, she killed her first mosquito. Given that I’m allergic to the little vampires, I’d say that’s a good friend.
While Blanche may resemble Lucky, she is very needy, wanting my attention all the time, just like J-cat did. Unfortunately, I’m not always able to give her what she wants, as I’m usually hunched behind my laptop at night. And so, she has figured out how to be near me even then—wrapping herself around it and slapping at the keys when my fingers move over them.
So, call me a cat lady, but I think I’ve got it pretty good.
Can’t get enough of my cat lady tendencies? Check out my podcast with Model Husband, Ethan Moses, as we dish on our funny cats.
We are just 17 days away from the first day of spring. Spring means wedding season, and since this is my blog, I can go ahead and say that wedding season, for the most part, sucks.
If you are single, perhaps wedding season will find you attending nuptial celebrations solo (because the married couple was too tacky to allow you a “Plus One”). Maybe you’ll be witnessing two people throw themselves into a binding agreement that really isn’t a great idea. Maybe you slept with the groom last week (wait, what, I don’t know, shut up). Maybe you’ll be a bridesmaid, and stuff yourself into a disgusting dress that you’ll sell on eBay in less than 24 hours.
What a joy! And so, I’m here with a little bit of help, or at least I hope so.
- Make a decision. Just because you were invited to a wedding doesn’t mean you have to go. Sounds mean, but it’s the truth. Same goes for engagement parties, bachelorette bashes, etc. Truthfully, it is improper for the bride and/or groom to invite the same person to more than 3 parties (outside of the wedding), so you can happily decline invitations to this clearly vain couple.
- If necessary, budget. While you don’t have to attend every party or the wedding, you DO have to send a gift for every invitation you receive (unless it’s more than 3 parties, as mentioned). So, if you’ve got a lot of engaged friends this season, you should create a budget so that wedding gifts don’t cramp your style.
- Get a hot outfit. Even if the wedding couple is doomed for divorce, watching the whole shebang can be difficult. A few years ago, I was a bridesmaid and there were tears in my eyes during the rehearsal in the chapel because I couldn’t help but think, “Wow, this may never happen for me.” Call me crazy, but a wedding stirs the emotions. So find an outfit that makes you feel confident. Treat yourself to a new piece of jewelry or a cute evening bag. Check out my wedding season wish list (links to products are below):
- Get a good date. No, I don’t mean a guy, necessarily. Take a good friend—someone you can laugh with, and rip up the dance floor with! If you’ve got a stack of invites, maybe this same friend can go to all the weddings with you, then you don’t even have to stress over it.
- Keep it classy. Smile, be happy for the couple, and have a good time! Have drinks, but don’t get hammered (there will be photo-evidence). And, no matter how hot they are, steer clear of the groomsmen. You don’t want to be THAT girl.
For the most part, my wedding seasons are over. However, I am happily attending a wedding in Chicago this summer as a “Plus One,” so if you’re in the area, hit me up, and let’s drink (cheers for being single)!My Wedding Season Wish list: OPI Brazil Collection for Spring & Summer 2014, Benefit Cosmetics Peek-A-Bright-Eyes, Steve Madden Marlenee Sandal, Insight Azuro Dress, ELF 3 Piece Lipstain Set, XOXO Long Sleeve Shirt Dress, Heirloom Finds Peach Pink Quartzite Cocktail Ring, Faux Leather Neon Envelope Clutch