Blog Archives

Exes: Married With Children.

When your ex straight up moves on... with a wife and a kid.

When your ex straight up moves on… with a wife and a kid.

Sometime last week, I wandered over to my ex-boyfriend’s Facebook page. It’s something I do when I’m feeling rather low about myself, even though looking at his page usually makes me feel worse. Call me a masochist.

Right away, I saw what I figured would be there: his profile picture was a tiny baby. His baby.

Because that is what people do; they get married, and within two years of being married, they have a kid.

When I found out my ex was getting married two years ago, I also found out via Facebook. I was stunned, to say the least, because we’d just broken up a year before.

It was a shitty way to confirm he was cheating on me for the greater part of our four-year relationship.

When I confronted him about it, he lied of course, saying their relationship just moved very quickly.

Finding out an ex is getting married is different for everyone; the reaction is probably relevant to how things ended.

Almost all of my exes are married, and as pathetic as it sounds, my heart broke a little when I found out about each one getting engaged.

I don’t believe any of my exes were “meant” for me, I think it’s more of admitting to myself that they found some sort of happiness with another person that I’ve yet to discover.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified that maybe I’ll never find that level of love, commitment, and happiness with someone.

This particular ex isn’t the only one of my exes to have a child. I think the nature of our relationship is what makes it sting a little, even years later.

We met in college; we were both bartenders at a place under the overpass. Our relationship was fun-loving from the start. It didn’t take long for me to sleep with him, and because of that, I fell for him very quickly.

Although he told me he loved me, his actions showed me that we weren’t on the same level. I loved him more than I’d ever felt for anyone else. And that’s still true today. Enter: the bitterness.

He always told me marriage wasn’t “for him,” and he never talked about wanting children. Those are things I wanted, and to see him married, with a child… it feels like everyone around me has moved on and up, while I’m still here. And still single.

As a singleton, I constantly have to remind myself that just because someone is married, doesn’t mean they’re in a perfect relationship. And just because I’m single, doesn’t mean I’ll never find someone.

Perhaps seeing an ex move on is just a refreshing sign that people can change. Or maybe it just proves that he/she is great at living one giant lie after the next. Now, who wants to hit up happy hour?

Pic of the Week.

All the proper fixins' for a movie premier!

All the proper fixins’ for a movie premier!

Thursday night, I could not wait to finish with work, jump into my sweats and walk right on over to the movie theatre for the midnight premier of “The Longest Ride,” a film adaptation of the Nicholas Sparks bestseller.

I was really excited for several reasons: 1. the book was fantastic. I have very, very fond memories of laying out on my terrace, getting a tan, sipping on a wine spritzer (no, seriously), and falling in love with this unique story, 2. SCOTT EASTWOOD IS FINE, and 3. I allowed myself a cheat and got a junior popcorn, with butter.

Um, hi.

Um, hi.

But seriously, that second point needs to be mentioned one more time… because how have I not noticed him nor his hotness before now?

Anyway, “The Longest Ride” is the story of two couples — very similar couples — in different time periods, whose lives intersect in a very unique way.

The movie and the book tells both of their stories, while in turn, offering a tale of love… as only Nicholas Sparks could. Read more about the book from a previous blog post, here

I think this movie struck me in an interesting way, because some of the issues in the story are easily things that could happen to anyone. Lately, I’ve been having a lot of questions and uncertainty when I think about love and my future. The movie touched on those issues, and although it was a little overwhelming at midnight on a Thursday, it was cathartic.

While I’ve seen all of the movies and read nearly all of Sparks’ books, this one is definitely one of my favorites (I just love “The Last Song”). I don’t, and won’t, spoil the movie for you, but per usual, don’t forget to pack the Kleenex!

Fresh Friday: Bright Crystal.

I'm kind of in love with this ad.

I’m kind of in love with this ad.

Whew, made it to Friday! I feel like every week is a complete roller coaster — it starts one way, and ends up completely different.

On Mondays, I always feel so overwhelmed when I look at my to-do list for the week. I often wake up SUPER early on Mondays and stay up late to get a jump start on the week. By Tuesday, I’m thinking the week will be a complete breeze after everything I accomplished Monday.

And the remainder of the week is spent tying up loose ends… and basically answering a TON of emails. By Friday, I’m just happy to see the weekend; which is something I don’t understand because I’m usually working more on the weekends than I am during the week!

Nonetheless, it is Friday, and I cannot believe I’ve made it through this many Fresh Fridays without mentioning Versace’s Bright Crystal. This is a scent I’ve worn over the years — one that I was surprised I liked so much! But it’s definitely a go-to.

As described by Sephora, “Inspired by a mixture of Donatella Versace’s favorite floral fragrances, Bright Crystal is a fresh, sensual blend of refreshing chilled yuzu and pomegranate mingled with soothing blossoms of peony, magnolia, and lotus flower, warmed with notes of musk and amber.”

No wonder I love it — it’s got musk AND floral notes! Perfection.

What’s everyone doing for the weekend? As usual, follow me on Instagram, Twitter, and SnapChat @OrangeJulius7 to see what me (and Blanche) can stir up until we see you right back here, on Monday!

7/50 Shades: Girl Next Door.

Second product on the right, folks.

Second product on the right, folks.

Although shade no. 7 is a gloss — I just cannot pull myself away. I blame this completely on Bonne Bell, for getting me addicted to shiny, glitter glosses delivered to my lips via sponge applicator.

Girl Next Door by Hard Candy is sheer, with a touch of silvery shimmer. It doesn’t have a scent or a flavor, really, but it is a tiny bit sweet. Mega plus? It’s thick, stays on for awhile, and it’s a lip plumper.

I can never REALLY tell if these things work, but I love the idea of it, regardless. But it did get me wondering how they work? I went to Google for the answer, and there was WebMD to my rescue.

According to WebMD, some over-the-counter lip plumping products contain ingredients that cause blood to flow to the lips, such as cinnamon, ginger mint, or wintergreen. When blood flows to the lips, they appear slightly larger than normal, or “bee stung” for a few hours.

Hey, that sounds pretty good to me!

I like to use Girl Next Door as a “top coat” to some of the other pink lipsticks I’ve mentioned before. It shines up a lipstick, plus adds the plump. Best of both worlds!

Dating on Instagram.

Glimpse-1

Glimpse, the dating app for Instagram.

I recently got an iPhone, after being a Blackberry user for years (it’s about time, right?). Since making the switch, I’m really trying to embrace the world of apps, especially dating apps.

I’ve already tried Tinder, and within three minutes I managed to play with fire and get burned. I saw my crush’s picture, and made a complete fool out of myself when he told me he was seeing someone.

Although, I still haven’t figured out why he was on Tinder to begin with. Anyway, I deleted the app and have banished Tinder from my life.

I did, however, download a new app called Glimpse that works with users who want to date through Instagram. Glimpse claims to be the opposite of Tinder, because “Swiping is basic, anyway.” It pairs users based on pictures and common interests, not on looks alone.

What I love so far about Glimpse is its vast array of users from around the world. It’s so easy to chat with men in other countries; places I’ve never even thought of. Plus, there are some really gorgeous pictures.

A few days after downloading Glimpse, I clicked that I liked a profile of a user named James. He appeared to be creative, and had a picture of himself playing guitar (love).

We got to chatting and clicked right away. He lives in North Carolina, and we messaged about life in the South, our work, and common interests.

After about a day, James was getting really flirty, which was cute, but I was cautious. He was quick to mention us meeting, so far as to discuss travel details.

“Let’s meet in Kansas City for a weekend and drink beer,” he said. “And eat BBQ. I’ll gladly pay for the room. And the rental car.”

Holy shit.

I’ve met up with people I’ve met online before, but it was a simple trip to the local coffee shop, during the day, with people around.

I’m open to meeting people, but I’m also not an idiot trying to get murdered.

I was short on answers, hoping James would get the hint. But the next day, he brought it up again, mentioning his high-end video equipment to “help me” with my vlogs.

Oh, hell no. It was time to set this creeper straight.

“I’m not really trying to get axed,” I told him, mentioning how creepy he sounded.

He apologized, and said he didn’t mean for it to come across that way. But then said he’d fly to Baton Rouge and meet me at a coffee shop if it made me feel more comfortable.

Hmmm, not really. Once a creeper, always a creeper — it seems to be the truth.

After that, there wasn’t much else to say. I’ll never really know what his intentions were, but there’s no way I was going to find out the hard way.

I’m still on Glimpse, but I haven’t gotten involved in many conversations since then.

I’m still not against online dating, or dating apps, as I think it’s good to put yourself out there in several ways. In any case, dating is difficult work.

Perhaps finding the perfect dating app is just as difficult as finding the perfect date. #ItsComplicated

 

Me & my bullshit, part two.

Drop the mic, bitch.

Drop the mic, bitch.

Read part one of “Me & my bullshit.” 

I find a tiny bit (okay, a medium bit) of comfort in recognizing the fact that the road many writers, amateur and professional, travel is one that’s alone.

The craft of writing is introspective — even fiction writers often say their stories come from some place real — and looking within isn’t something that happens at a conference table or in a room full of cubicles.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what success means to me — not in terms of money, but in terms of what every day is like for me. I’m still working to get where I want to be.

While Ryan’s words really, really hurt me, I know that I cannot change who I am to please him, or anyone. I have always promised myself and my readers that I will remain honest, even if that means I’m not the most popular person.

I also know that there’s a big, big difference between someone like me who works every single day, chasing my dreams, and someone who sits at a job, letting the days pass them by. Complacency is not for me.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about successful people, and I’ve noticed that many of those people, who are SO successful in business, are also misunderstood in many other aspects of their life. Perhaps that’s just how it goes.

Take Steve Jobs for example. Chances are you’re reading this from a device that he invented. I’m writing it on one. And I’ll Tweet about it on another one later today. In his biography by Walter Isaacson (a genius writer that I’ve been lucky enough to interview), there are many mentions of how Jobs went against the grain in nearly all areas of his life — even in unflattering ways.

At the root of the reality distortion was Jobs’s belief that the rules didn’t apply to him. He had some evidence for this; in his childhood, he had often been able to bend reality to his desires. Rebelliousness and willfulness were ingrained in his character. He had the sense that he was special, a chosen one, an enlightened one.

— Walter Isaacson, “Steve Jobs” [119]

There are other successful creatives I can relate to — Amy Winehouse and her broken heart (and the ability to turn that into beautiful music), John Green in his writing processes, and of course, my love, John Mayer, in his ways of being so, so introspective and insecure, that it gets him in trouble socially.

And while I know (haters, this is for you) I’m not nearly as genius as those people, I do know that I’m not a dumb ass. I’m not the girl who lost her job. I’m not someone wishing to be a writer. I’m someone just trying (and often succeeding) to make it. And by it, I mean my dreams a reality.

My past is littered with guys like Ryan. Guys who tell me how great I am, and then disappear for no valid reason. One of the biggest questions I had when Ryan sent me his douchey text was this: Why are we so quick to cut people off?

It’s that easy, especially hiding behind a fucking phone screen, to write someone a message and cut them out of your life forever, because you don’t feel like dealing with a human. Another question I had? If my behavior was so scary, why didn’t he ask me if I was okay?

And that’s the difference between being selfless and selfish, my friends.

I know I won’t stop writing — let’s be honest here, there’s nothing else I’m really cut out for. And I know it’s not going to be easy. But when the road gets tough, and the guys continue to be assholes, I’ll probably just write more of these posts about my “bullshit.”

You know the greatest thing about that guy at the gym who thinks my column is bullshit?

He read it.

If you’re nice to me I’ll never write anything bad about you. 

—Amy Winehouse

Fresh Friday: Warm Cotton.

The perfume for non-perfume wearers.

The perfume for non-perfume wearers.

“Inspired by soap,” is what the package says, and that’s certainly what it smells like! Warm Cotton by CLEAN reminds of the way it smells outside, in the summer, when someone is doing their laundry. Very fresh, clean, and cozy, in a sense.

As described by Sephora, “Cozy up to CLEAN Warm Cotton Eau de Parfum, a fragrance that captures the comforting scent of just-out-of-the-dryer freshness. Blending the crispness of freshly laundered linens into an understated fragrance that is soft and subtly sexy, CLEAN Warm Cotton is perfect for the modern woman who is confident enough to let herself—not her fragrance—command attention.”

Warm Cotton has notes of Citrus, Watery Green Pear, Verbena, Floral Essences, Fruit Essences, Marine Essences, Jasmine, Orange Flower, Musk, Fougere, and Amber. A perfectly subtle scent for spring and summer!

In other news, I hope you all have a fantastic Easter weekend. To me, Easter isn’t a big deal, since I’m not a kid, I don’t have an Easter basket, and I am not celebrating anything religious. However, I am excited that business has slowed for the weekend and I’ll be able to enjoy it, and perhaps spend some time outdoors. I even bought myself a bouquet of coral tulips to celebrate.

Follow me on Instagram and Twitter @OrangeJulius7 to see what I’m up to this weekend! Cheers, y’all!

Me & my bullshit, part one.

This is about how many fucks I give.

This is about how many fucks I give.

“You’re the girl from the magazine, right?” he asked.

It was a guy I recognized from my gym. I shrugged.

“I guess…” I said, not really sure what he meant.

“Yeah, you write that bullshit column,” he said.

That bullshit column. Three little words that pretty much sum up my insecurities — especially lately. Let me start from the beginning.

A few weeks ago, I got the bright idea to Tweet my first book, “How I Fell: Love, Lies & Cocktails,” 140 characters at a time. I have seen other writers do it, and I have quite a few Twitter followers, so I thought it would be a great way to shake things up, get some marketing out there for my book, possibly sell a few copies, and get some more followers.

What I didn’t realize, is that it took a REALLY long time to Tweet the book — like, three whole days. During those three days, I barely got any sleep, I was living off takeout and alcohol, and the worst part of it? I was having to read (and type) a relationship that was terrible. I did not take into account just how emotional reading that stuff from two years ago would be. It was bad.

That same week, I’d set aside some time to have a “Facetime date” with my high school crush (you can read our full story here)… his name rhymes with Ryan Wence. The day of our “date,” he sent me a text saying a work friend was in town and he (the friend) wanted to go to dinner. Ryan apologized, saying he didn’t realize how long his friend was planning on being in town when he scheduled our date, and he hoped I wasn’t mad.

I told him of course I wasn’t mad at all, and I hoped he had fun at dinner. Ryan asked if we could reschedule for the following day. In my emotional book-Tweeting state, I wrote him back saying yes, we could reschedule, and said I admittedly misread his first text, and thought for a split second the friend was a girl and I almost got jealous (smiley-wink). I didn’t think anything of it when he didn’t respond.

Let me tell you a little bit about my relationship with Ryan. We hooked up almost a year ago when I went on a visit to Indiana. Since then, I admitted to him that I liked him, a lot, and he told me he wasn’t ready for a relationship, having just got out of something serious. I understood and appreciated his honesty. We kept in touch via text mostly, sometimes we talked on the phone.

I really appreciated his friendship — we have a lot of things in common, and he was kind to me, and supportive when I needed it. For Valentine’s Day, I sent him a homemade card in the mail. He told me he had it on display in his living room, and he wished he could be with me for the holiday.

He later told me he knew he hadn’t been the nicest person to me, and he appreciated our friendship more than he could even admit. “I check my phone every day to see if you’ve texted me,” he said.

I’ve got plans to be in Indiana this May, so we made plans to meet up. This is when I suggested the Facetime date. The following day, I texted Ryan to see what time he wanted to talk. He replied:

“I don’t think we should talk. Your text last night scared me. We aren’t even dating yet I will date other women. Your Tweets last night were scary. Your behavior is scaring me.”

HUH?

My book Tweets were scaring him? This was a guy that’s read my blog, column, and one of my books! What the hell was he talking about? And I was totally trying to be playful about the jealousy thing… I never said we were dating, or said he couldn’t date other women — but thanks for finding the shittiest way possible to tell me you’re not interested in me whatsoever.

But my attempts at explaining myself went into that black hole where apparently ALL of my bullshit goes; that place where guys put all of my messages and ghost me forever. I haven’t heard from him since.

I’ve spent a lot of my life feeling like I don’t fit in — it’s really just been a matter of how much I care or not. As an adult, I’m starting to realize and accept more and more that no, I don’t fit in, and it’s probably not going to change any time soon (or ever).

I am a creative. I think differently than a lot of people. I also work for myself (as a result of my creativity), which means I don’t work “normal” hours, I don’t make money in the conventional way, and my work processes are very different. Me Tweeting a book was simply something I was trying to do to shake things up, keep me on the edge of creativity, essentially make a few sales, and now I was being shamed for it. Awesome.

I started to wonder just how much more of this I can take. In the last few months, I’ve been rejected quite a few times — am I really that terrible a person? When a recent crush I had rejected me by telling me he was seeing someone (which I think he wasn’t), I posted on Facebook that I’d be hiding under my couch for a few days and that I felt ugly. Someone commented saying I needed to stop calling myself ugly.

Sure, I get that. And thank you. But just because I’m not a troll, doesn’t mean I wake up every morning feeling beautiful. Trust me, when people tell you that everything you write is bullshit, and that you don’t even deserve a chance at a date, or that your behavior is scary, it’s really easy to feel ugly every once in awhile.

Read “Me & my bullshit, part two” right here, Monday, April 6. 

On Baggage: Give Me Back my DVDs.

It's more fun watching TV on a free flat screen!

It’s more fun watching TV on a free flat screen!

I watch a lot of TV. Not in the sense of me, sitting on my couch eating popcorn while binging on hours of TV, but if I’m home, my TV is usually on.

I’ve got one TV in my living room and one in my bedroom.

The one in my living room is a near-60-inch, flat-screen, that is leftover from a relationship I had two years ago.

My then-boyfriend said he had an “extra” TV that wasn’t being used, and I could put it in my apartment. I really didn’t need another TV, but he insisted, and it arrived a few days later.

About two months later, I dumped him, on account of him being a complete drunk, not to mention he had a side-chick.

I was nice enough to pack up all of his clothes and random crap he had around my apartment, and leave it on his front porch.

But I wasn’t sure how to get the TV to him. It’s big enough that I can’t safely carry it by myself, and I didn’t want to just leave it outside his house.

I told him I could arrange a time for him to come pick it up, a time when a guy friend could be there with me. My ex was violent and I was scared to be alone with him.

But my ex conveniently couldn’t arrive during the allotted time. I soon got the hint. The TV was his thing. It was his excuse to talk to me; his way of finding out when I was home and what I was doing.

He even got the bright idea that I could just leave my apartment unlocked while I went to work and he’d just pick up the TV. Um, how about you’re crazy?

It was creepy. I wanted him out of my life.

Instead of leaving my apartment unlocked, I dragged the TV into the hallway of my complex, covered it with a beach towel, and went to work.

As predicted, I got a text from my ex saying, “Can’t make it today.” He wanted to reschedule.

Nope.

I told myself that if I got home and the TV was still there, I was keeping it, and I was never speaking to my ex about it again.

The TV was the final link between us and I wanted it broken (not literally, though I would’ve gotten great pleasure out of tossing it from my window).

When I got home, the TV was there, untouched. I dragged in back inside, and have been enjoying trashy shows on it ever since.

Recently, I got a message on Facebook from my ex’s brother, asking if I had the TV, because it was actually his.

Well, sucks for you. Two years out from the relationship, and I’m still hearing about the damn TV. Bye, Felicia.

This is why it’s best to get rid of everything related to the relationship right away, even if it means making a donation to Goodwill.

You live and learn. For now, I’ll continue obsessing over “Secrets and Lies” on my giant-screen TV.

Pic of the Week.

Allergies be damned.

Allergies be damned.

I spent most of last week in bed. And not in the way you’d expect, or wish upon a person like myself (by that I mean a person who hasn’t gotten laid in awhile). I spent my week in bed sneezing, coughing, sniffling… basically anything that irritated my cat Blanche.

Spring is here, and that means one thing: ALLERGIES.

I didn’t have allergies until I moved to Louisiana. Even then, I didn’t suffer from any of these allergies until about two years ago. I felt like I always needed to carry a box of Kleenex with me. What I thought was a cold that would just never leave, was actually allergies.

So, last week was terrible. I was trying to drink fluids, get rest, and get things cleared up, all while feeling guilty that I wasn’t really working. The good thing about being your own boss is that you don’t have to call in sick. You just… stay in bed for four days.

The bad thing about being your own boss is that… no one can cover for you. Basically, no work gets done. I did lay in bed and conduct a few interviews via phone (no, I’m serious). I asked Blanche to sort my emails, but clearly those didn’t get done.

Outside of sleeping and catching up on TV, I spent a lot of time at Whole Foods. I used the sniffles as an excuse to eat copious amounts of spicy chicken noodle soup from the Asian counter. That shit is awesome and if you haven’t tried it, make plans to get to a Whole Foods, pronto.

Turns out, spicy chicken noodle soup isn’t really a cure for allergies. So, I bought some herbal pills that I’ve been eating ever since. I also got some local raw honey because there’s, like, a one percent chance that it’ll get rid of my allergies.

I’m not sure what I’m allergic to, and that’s the other thing about being your own boss — there’s no health insurance, so fancy tests like allergy ones, aren’t going to happen. We’re just going to assume I’m allergic to Blanche, since it was about two years ago that she showed up and shit hit the fan.

But since I am a loving cat lady, I’ll continue to live in the prison of my own making — that made of cat hair, pipe cleaners, and tuna cans. But hey, we’ve got the local honey.

Looking for Alaska.

Quote from Looking for Alaska by John Green.

Quote from Looking for Alaska by John Green.

I’m sad and happy (all at once) to announce that I’ve got NO more John Green books to read! I saved Looking for Alaska for last, because while I was excited to read it, I was also sad knowing that I’d have no more books of Green’s to read!

Looking for Alaska was Green’s first book, and has won many awards including the 2006 Michael L. Printz Award. It was listed in the Top 10 Best Book for Young Adults in 2006, and the 2006 Quick Pick for Reluctant Young Adult Readers, among several others.

CANNOT wait.

CANNOT wait.

Looking for Alaska is the story of Miles Halter. Miles is a man of few words, though he is obsessed with last words — having memorized the last words of many well-known people. He’s going to boarding school for the first time and meets the COOLEST girl… ever. Alaska Young.

I really don’t want to spoil this book if you haven’t read it. And if you haven’t read it, you MUST read this book!

Now that I’ve read all of Green’s books, I can say there are many similarities (I often get Paper Towns and Looking for Alaska mixed up) in all of them — which might be why I love them all so much. While Looking for Alaska wasn’t my favorite, it connected with me in ways that others didn’t.

Like I said, I don’t want to give anything away, BUT this book has a layer of seriousness to it, but at the same time, a great layer of imagination that I appreciate. As always, I went crazy with my digital highlighter while reading the book, so here are some of my favorite quotes:

‘I go to seek a Great Perhaps.’ That’s why I’m going. So I don’t have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps.

That didn’t happen, of course. Things never happened like I imagined them.

And now is as good a time as any to say that she was beautiful.

You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.

You’ve got your oats. You’ve got your meal. You’ve got your cream. It’s a fuckin’ food pyramid.

I just did some calculations, and I’ve been able to determine that you’re full of shit.

I finally decided that people believed in an afterlife because they couldn’t bear not to.

There comes a time when we realize that our parents cannot save themselves or save us, that everyone who wades through time eventually gets dragged out to sea by the undertow—that, in short, we are all going.

I gritted my teeth, and then before us, broken glass glittered in the blare of the sun like the road was wearing jewelry, and that spot must be the spot.

And so… even though we’re ALL (ok, me) looking forward to Paper Towns hitting theatres this summer, Looking for Alaska will be in theatres NEXT summer!

While not much has been released about the film adaptation, I am so excited to see how they turn his first book into his third movie!

Anyone out there read Looking for Alaska? I’d be thrilled to nerd out about it with you!

Boyfriend Recipe: Pulled pork sammies.

Recipe by Real Simple magazine.

Recipe by Real Simple magazine.

Hopefully, the weather is warming up in your part of town and I know the LAST thing you want to be doing is turning on the oven… Which is why I chose this slow-cooker recipe!

Your guy, and probably even your kids, will absolutely love these open-faced pulled pork sandwiches, paired with tangy broccoli slaw. I’ve made this meal a few times and it impresses me every single time — it’s easy and delicious!

INGREDIENTS

  • 1 medium red onion, sliced
  • 8 tablespoons of cider vinegar
  • Kosher salt and black pepper
  • 1/4 cup of sour cream
  • 1/4 cup of mayonnaise
  • 1 12-ounce package broccoli slaw (4 cups)
  • 1 medium yellow onion, chopped
  • 1/4 cup of tomato paste
  • 1/4 cup of packed light brown sugar
  • 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
  • 1 tablespoon of Dijon mustard
  • 1 tablespoon of Cajun seasoning
  • 1 1/2 pounds pork shoulder, trimmed and cut into 2 pieces
  • 4 thick slices sandwich bread, toasted

DIRECTIONS

In a medium bowl, mix together the red onion, 4 tablespoons of the vinegar, and ¼ teaspoon each salt and pepper. Cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours and up to 3 days.

In a large bowl, whisk together the sour cream, mayonnaise, 2 tablespoons of the remaining vinegar, and ¼ teaspoon each salt and pepper. Fold in the broccoli slaw and refrigerate for up to 12 hours.

In a 4- to 6-quart slow cooker, mix together the yellow onion, tomato paste, sugar, Worcestershire sauce, mustard, Cajun seasoning, the remaining 2 tablespoons of vinegar, ½ teaspoon salt, and ¼ teaspoon pepper. Add the pork and turn to coat.

Cover and cook until the pork is very tender, on low for 7 to 8 hours or on high for 4 to 5 hours (this will shorten total recipe time). Using 2 forks, shred the pork and mix it into the cooking liquid. Serve the pork and onions on the toast with the broccoli slaw. You should try putting the slaw ON the sandwich… yum!

Finding Your Fetish.

Holding the power.

Holding the power.

“You like that?” he whispered into my ear. It was something he — a guy I was seeing — liked saying as we fooled around.

If there’s one thing I’m terrible at in bed, it’s talking dirty (ask me to write dirty, not talk).

But later, over a tray of raw oysters, he asked me if I liked receiving oral sex.

Um, yes. Who doesn’t?

He was silent on the matter, piling on ridiculous amounts of horseradish before he ate each oyster.

“Why, is that your thing?” I asked, now curious. If you’re a woman who loves receiving oral sex, you dream of a man that’s really into it.

“No,” he said. “I enjoy doing it, but it’s not my thing.”

What was his thing? Tossing salad.

Before him, I’d never had anyone travel in that direction. While I didn’t mind it, it wasn’t something I found pleasurable.

Let’s face it, it’s a little awkward — his face was in my ass. There’s no 69-esque position that allows anything to be done to the other person. And all of the sudden, I felt self-conscious about the sitation back there. Should I wax? Was it fresh-enough for this activity?

Most importantly, I was never planning on returning the favor (FYI, it never became an issue).

It got me thinking about fetishes. Sure, there are some I can’t relate to, such as a foot fetish or BDSM (bondage, domination, sadism, and masochism). According to an article on TheRichest.com, BDSM is the number one sexual fetish (Thanks, “50 Shades”).

Honestly, I don’t think I have a fetish. I have a fantasy (going at it against a wall) that’s never become reality, but never a fetish.

I will admit that I do have a thing for guys in baseball hats, and if a guy has any talent with a guitar, I’ll pretty much be his for life. But neither of these tiny obsessions have made their way into my sex life.

After some light Googling, it became clear to me that there’s no real answer as to why people have fetishes, or what causes them.

There are theories, however, about certain fetishes reminding the brain of childhood, such as a spanking fetish (I’m into it) or the “adult baby” thing (not hot).

But if there’s no understood psychological trace to a fetish, then how do people go about discovering them?

Was my guy just simply really obsessed with asses — seemed to be the case — that one day he decided to go ahead and lick one, excessively?

Don’t knock it, ‘til you try it, right?

I don’t need a list of rules or words to get through a session in the sack. There’s no trunk full of goodies (no pun intended) in my bedroom.

Maybe I’m just simple, but so far, sex is pretty fantastic all on its own.

Pic of the Week.

Spring is here!

Spring is here!

Friday evening marked the start of spring and after this winter, I know a lot of people across the country have been celebrating the coming of warmer weather.

As I mentioned yesterday, spring-ish weather in Louisiana doesn’t last long. But it’s the mark of a fantastic season that means baseball, crawfish, and all kinds of festivals. It’s a fantastic time to be here!

Over the weekend, I joined my friends for the annual Zapp’s Beerfest, perhaps one of my favorite events of the year — 2.5 hours of unlimited drinking and all-you-can-eat Zapp’s chips. Not to mention the abundance of delicious home-brews (I had a banana split porter that was delicious).

It was a cool, overcast day, complete with a shower, but not to worry because I was stomping the grounds with my new rubber boots (pictured above). It’s amazing that I’ve lived in the South for more than ten years and just now got some boots worthy of puddle-stompin’. They kept my feet nice and dry.

I’ve mentioned before how I’m more likely to set goals for myself around my birthday (in July) than I am around the start of a new calendar year. This year, I’m feeling pretty excited about spring. It’s a season of renewal and fresh, new ideas.

With each day, I’m moving closer and closer to making my own business a reality. I’m getting new clients, drafting business proposals and plans, having meetings, listening to podcasts, doing research… It’s a lot of work, but it feels right.

There’s a lot (a TON) of learning in this process, and it’s not always easy. I had a meeting a few weeks ago with a fellow creative and he was telling me about how vulnerable we all are — every time we craft something and send it, we are being judged. Most of the time, I don’t think of it in that way, but there’s definitely some truth to it.

If you’re following me on Twitter, you definitely know that last week, I spent almost four days Tweeting my first book, “How I Fell: Love, Lies & Cocktails,” 140 characters at a time. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think it all the way through in that I had no idea it would take me so long.

I spent a majority of the week staying up, typing. Not only was I lacking sleep (and living off beer and takeout), reading and remembering about such a terrible part in my life was emotionally draining. So, why did I do it?

I never want to put myself into a box. I don’t want to strap myself into a 9-5 schedule. I don’t want to lose that creative edge. Some of the most successful things that have been done, were successful the first time they were done. I want to use all of the tools I have — my brain, my computer, and free marketing services like Twitter, to get my ideas out there.

The consequences? I thought a few people would be annoyed and unfollow me on Twitter, but instead, I gained quite a few followers (score!). But, I also got a text message from someone I’ve known for 11 years. He told me my Tweets were scary. He said my behavior was scaring him and it would be best if we never talked again.

I’ll elaborate more on this and who told me this in a later blog post, but the gist of it is: I may not always been understood. And some of the most successful people aren’t understood. As a writer, most of my work is done alone. I spend a lot of time at my desk, and a lot of my work is introspective.

As sad as I was to lose this “friend,” I know that I can only afford to surround myself with people who support me. That does not mean they agree with everything I say or do. It means they won’t drop off the face of the earth when I think of something out-of-the-box.

In the last month, I’ve spent a lot time wondering if this life, this career will stand in the way of me ever finding love. But, instead of worrying about it, I’m just going to roll with it. I can’t change my brain to please the world.

And so, cheers to spring — bring on the new beginnings. I sure could use some fresh ideas (and flowers) ’round these parts!

Get beach hair at home.

My favorite VS model.

My favorite VS model.

Spring is here… and I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for the beach! Living in Louisiana, “Spring” lasts about a week before we’re in the thick of the summer heat and humidity. What does this mean for my hair? It means I shouldn’t waste time with the straightener.

Instead, I’ve been researching other cute ways to wear my hair and still look decent. One fun way to embrace the moisture in the air? Beach hair/waves/styles!

Beach hair is something coveted, probably because it’s something that happens in nature — a mix of the salt water in the air at the beach, mixed with the sun’s heat — no wonder we want to recreate it as much as possible.

After searching online, turns out there’s tons of different ways to create this look at home, including lots of different products to mimic the texture. Here are some options you can try:

  • Bumble and Bumble Surf Spray — One 4-ounce bottle of hair styling spray; Seaweed extract helps retain moisture for roughed-looking styles that aren’t dry; Get that sexy, salty, windblown, after-beach look even if you’re miles from the beach; Offers plenty of hold and a clean, matte finish; Imparts extra texture, volume, and a matte finish for loose, sexy styles.
  • Not Your Mother’s Beach Babe Texturizing Sea Salt Spray — It adds sexy, tousled waves and a light matte finish to any hair type. Infused with natural dead see salt and sea kelp this salon formula has you and your hair on the boardwalk all year long.
  • John Frieda Beach Blonde Sea Waves Sea Salt Spray — Creates or enhances natural waves, and increases grip and texture for a ropey, ripple effect that is fit for everyday beachy style; Sea-salt infused styling spray provides all over full body designed to deliver touchable texture; Provides a versatile look that can be worn with any hair length or texture and the refreshing summer scents evoke emotions of being at the beach.

You can also use mousse, hairspray, or you can even create your OWN sea salt spray at home. There are various recipes out there (thanks, Google), but here’s one from Elle magazine I thought looked great.

Now, how to get the look? There’s also tons of different ways you can go about it, and the biggest factor is probably your hair type (aside from the overall look you’re trying to achieve). Here’s a few different methods.

Recently, I’ve simply washed my hair, let it air dry overnight, and used a combination of hairspray and Instant Texture Mist from Living Proof. I do have wavy hair in the back, but the sides are pretty limp, so I’m still working on this…

Another way you could aid your beach hair style is by braiding! Check out these 10 braids you can DIY.

What easy styles are you looking forward to this summer? Tried the beach hair thing? Let me know what works and what doesn’t work!

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