I’m going to have to make a toast at the wedding dinner. It’s a small wedding, somewhere between 40 and 50 people that are all family and close friends. So no big deal, right Mandy? All you have to do is raise a glass, say some cutesy things about how happy you are for them and that you’re super excited about margaritas all.The.TIME, and then everyone says “awww” and clinks their glasses together and you’re the sweet daughter that toasted at her Mom’s wedding.

Yea, except my family is insane and half of them don’t like me because I’m not very nice to the ones that make me mad. I stopped playing the whole “they’re family, you have to love them and forgive them and be nice to them” game because it’s exhausting and I don’t think it’s fair. So to say the least, a few people have me on a hit list because I’ve spoken up about their rude comments that are apparently excusable because “oh, we’re family.” And now if I trip and fall or stutter they’re going to LOVE it, so maybe a Xanax is in order before all this (not really). At least then I won’t care when my dress gets tucked into my underwear with 6 sheets of toilet paper, right?

Maybe I’ll just get up and start flinging toast. YOU WANT SOME TOAST? HERE!!!!!!! AND HERE’S SOME ORANGE MARMALADE YOU CRAZY FRICKEN AUNT. WHO EATS ORANGE MARMALADE ANYWAY?! GOD YOU PEOPLE ARE WEIRD! I’M SURPRISED YOU PEELED YOUR FACE AWAY FROM FARMVILLE LONG ENOUGH TO MAKE IT OUT HERE!!

Don’t worry, I’m not that horrible. A lot of my family likes me and I like them back. The ones that don’t eat orange marmalade, that is.

It’s going to be a good time, even if everyone stares at me with piercing hot laser eyes. At least I’ll get a tan, eh?

I think it’s awesome to go out to the bar without having to throw my clothes into the basement when I get home because they literally stink up my entire room with the smell of secondhand smoke. I’m all about it because when I’m around more than one person smoking, it makes me feel sick and I almost always get a headache or migraine. Other than that – No, I don’t care if you smoke. It’s your body and you have the right to treat it however you want.

I’ve heard a lot of reasons from various people on why they like or dislike it. A lot of people mention freedom and having the “right to smoke,” while others refute they have the “right to breathe clean air.” Obviously I think the person making the healthier choice has the advantage, particularly because smoking affects OTHERS around you (because no, smoking a cigarette in public is not the same as eating saturated fats in public. Saturated fats being eaten by you don’t make ME fat. I’ve heard this argument one too many times and I want to set myself on fire every single time). Also, banning smoking in restaurants improves food and health codes so are you really going to argue against having a healthier and safer place preparing food for you?

Anyway, the whole point of this is that over the weekend I heard quite possibly one of the stupidest, narrow minded and most unintelligent arguments against the smoking ban I’d ever heard in my life.

A lady I know who’s in her 40’s and a smoker said she has the right to smoke anywhere she wants. If I have a problem with it, I don’t have to go somewhere where people are smoking. I’m making the choice to go where the smoke is, and I can leave. Of course, my argument was that she can step outside. “But why do I have to step outside to have a cigarette? If you don’t like it, why can’t you? It’s my right to smoke. You say you have the right to breathe clean air, and we can go in this circle all day. I have just as much a right to smoke as you do to breathe clean air, so you can leave, too.”

At this point I thought my head was going to explode, but then the real zinger came in. She said it’s no different than me drinking and then getting in a car and driving because I’m putting her health at risk if she’s on the road at the same time as me.

YES, YES, YES!!! That is why DRUNK DRIVING is ILLEGAL! Because you’re putting OTHERS in danger!

That is basically the entire point I was trying to make. I don’t give a shit if she smokes. However, I give a shit when I have to breathe it in and it gives me a migraine. I don’t have health insurance. Migraine medication is not cheap. I try my hardest to adjust my eating habits and lifestyle so I don’t get them. Therefore, when your actions cause me to get migraines I want to stab you.

Nobody cares if you sit in your house and drink all day every day. However, once you get in your car and start driving drunk, everyone cares and you get in trouble because you are putting OTHERS at risk.

Nobody cares if you sit in your house everyday and shoot yourself in the foot. However, when you go outside and shoot someone else in the foot, you’re going to get in trouble.

Nobody cares if you kill yourself, but if you kill someone else you’re going to prison, psycho.

Basically, laws are not put in place to protect you from yourself. You can do whatever you want to yourself, nobody cares until you’re putting others in harm’s way. That’s when the problem arises and that’s when laws come into place. Nobody is trying to take away your holy carton of cigarettes, they’re just trying to protect others from them. Everyone, EVERYONE knows the health risks involved so if you’re smoking and don’t see it as an issue to others, you’re selfish.

I have a wicked bad swearing habit and it’s not like I was going to sit and swear in front of her 7 year old daughter that was with us, so if I take her argument into consideration in this case, I have the right to swear in front of her daughter and if she has a problem, she can tell her kid to go outside. I have the right to exercise my swearing habit in public, right?

It all boils down to this – your rights end where mine begin.

What do you guys think about smoking bans? If you’re from Michigan, do you love it or hate it?

Every blogger/writer/musician/graphic designer/artist of any kind knows you’re not supposed to be creative and create things with the goal of becoming famous and making millions of dollars through a living doing what you love. Except nowadays, it’s nearly impossible to find a 100% authentic artist who said “screw what everyone else wants, I’m doing to do what I want and if they like it, they’ll come to me.” Need proof? Justin Beiber, Miley Cyrus, Rihanna, Katy Perry and basically any blogger who worries about their site statistics and how many people retweet their blog posts. The statistics will come if you do something that MATTERS, and you’ll feel way better about it. The celebrities I’m referring to set ridiculous standards in regards to music, and others try to be like them which is actually pretty easy considering they’re talentless and anyone can make some shit about cupcakes set to autotune. Standards are being set by talentless people and that’s the problem. Justin Beiber might be stupid successful, but that doesn’t mean he’s providing us with something we’ve never seen. We’ve heard the lyrics, we’ve heard the message and we’ve seen the same shitty haircut on every member of Green Day and Fall Out Boy. It’s the same thing in a new package and it’s constructed simply out of what people will pay money for without thinking twice. I mean, is he really even a human when it all comes down to it? Yes, this is the post where I reveal that Justin Beiber is a zombie. A zombie with bad hair.

I’ve know a lot of people that have started a blog or website because they have something to say. They’re usually anonymous or semi-anonymous and write whatever they want. They say the F-word, they talk about horse vaginas and the time a guy used butter as lube and people eat it up because they’re raw and uncensored and are not trying to please anyone, they’re just having fun and saying what they want to say. Even those who aren’t anonymous and censor themselves a little can be respectable if they do it in an original way that shows off their personality and isn’t a carbon copy of the crap being written about on the next domain over.

Some of these people look up to those who are are blogging for a living and making plenty of money off advertisements on their site. And they realize how awesome it would be to do that so they decide to work hard and give it a go. Except they realize they’ll have to be less anonymous because they want it to be THEM, they’re BRAND, and everything they represent. When they speak at conferences about how they created their own BRAND this is the website they’ll refer to, so it has to be different. If they’re less anonymous, they have to change the things they write about. And their tone. And they have to pay for an expensive layout because otherwise nobody will take them seriously. Because all bloggers are wicked good web designers and they never say the word “shitballs” or “slutty horse vagina” and they all go by the same uniformed set of rules. So that’s what they have to do.

And they change. They create a new website that they’re going to make money with and they’ll quit their full-time job and get cute business cards with their blog logo and it’s going to be SO AWESOME! They start crafting and writing posts that will appeal to the masses that read similar blogs to theirs, they create specific categories and themes that will tie into their strategic weekly posts, people will keep coming back each week for the Wonder Wednesday and Funny Friday posts to see what the person has come up with and people will be eating out of their hand and they’ll be totally famous. And then they’ll write a book titled “How to Become a Famous and Awesome Blogger Like Me” and it’ll be on the New York Times Bestseller list and they’ll be on Oprah talking about how blogging will change the world, and they’ll reveal a few secrets about their success that involve “stay true to yourself” and “don’t let anyone tell you what you can and can’t do,” except for the fact that they’re a total hypocrite because the very thing they did was change everything that made them awesome in order to make money and do what people wanted so they could quit their job and “insert fabricated talent here” for a living.

Does anyone even get what I’m saying? There are a million blogs out there and 98 percent of them are the same carbon copy as the next except from another person’s eyes. Nobody wants to hear what you had for breakfast and nobody wants to hear you make fun of the same politicians for the 48th time.

And then, AND THEN, all these people get cocky and start thinking they’re writers. I mean, anyone can write, right? They have a blog and they love doing it and they’re totally passionate about it so why can’t they write for a living? Anyone can. Right, right, RIGHT?!

Wrong, wrong, wrong! This is one of the biggest reasons writing and the journalism field sucks and is so diluted with garbage. While blogging is definitely an excellent platform to start a career, the loads of “I have a blog so I can write and I should make money doing it” is excessive and also diluted. Now these people feel entitled to recognition because they’re decent at something that virtually anyone can do and they enjoy it. This is when the changes start coming in and the work is no longer even theirs because they’re trying to figure out what everyone wants on a blog like theirs and that’s what they’re creating. So they’re not even making anything authentic even though that’s everything they’ve wanted to do; become famous off their creativity and talent that no longer exists.

Regardless of what anyone thinks, the moment your work starts being created to please others is the exact point when it begins to lose authenticity. I understand that life and careers aren’t just free range and we shouldn’t go around saying “fuck what you want, I’m gonna do what I want,” but when you’re doing something you enjoy and then decide to give it a go professionally, you’re going to enjoy it far less once you realize the amount of load that drops from your shoulders as soon as you start doing something that is guaranteed to bring in the masses and attention you want. Even then, you feel you’re taking far less of a risk but the masses still are not even coming in. That’s because someone else is already doing what you are trying to do and probably doing it better because it was their idea. I feel like this paragraph needs a math equation but just thinking of that makes me want to set myself on fire.

If you want to be successful with your creativity, you literally have to ignore everyone else that is already doing what you want to do. Nowadays there is no other way to do it. Because then you won’t be influenced by those who are already successful and you won’t want to do what they’re doing. Not that looking up to people is a bad thing, but there is a gigantic difference between finding idols and mentors and using others hard work as examples of what you want to do and create. If you’re following others, you will wind up making something totally different that isn’t even what you originally set out to do and in the end, you will be far less proud and satisfied.

This blog post was written on a whim because I’ve noticed the number of people trying to make money through blogging, tweeting, whatever and it just isn’t working because you can literally SEE in everything they do that it’s just not THEM, and that they’re struggling to make things just right so people will like it. It’s kind of sad, really because so many people really ARE trying to be what they’re not.

And maybe I am too by writing a post about authenticity. Everyone’s already said all this, haven’t they? What makes me think I can say it in a way that no one else has said it before? Well, I don’t think that, I know this has already been said. However, I feel it’s something that still needs to hit home for people and because of that, I’m going to write it out anyway. So here you go and whatever you do, don’t become a Justin Beiber zombie.

This post has actually been a long time coming, but considering I’ve had quite a few people asking me about freelancing over the past few days, I figure now is as good a time as ever to write a post covering what I think about working as a full-time freelancer.

So as a lot of you know, I freelance write full time. Contrary to what a lot of people seem to think, I don’t work on the beach with my dog every morning and I don’t spontaneously fly to Paris to sit and have crepes under the Eiffel tower while I type away all the beautiful, creative thoughts that are constantly flooding my brain.

Sure, I could probably do those things, but I don’t. I don’t just sit and type type type a bunch of creative and cute articles and sell them to editors begging for pieces of my work. In reality, I’m up in the middle of the night sweating and opening my laptop back up because I can’t sleep until I’m satisfyingly closer to that deadline looming in a few days. I’m popping Rolaids into my mouth like they’re Skittles because my car insurance payment just bounced thanks to the lowlife client who decided to leave for vacation right after our project ended and conveniently hasn’t received my invoice. I’m yelling at myself as I try to write a blog because I can’t stop writing crappy run-on sentences (see previous sentence). I’m practically punching myself in the face because I just completed a project I was dying to get, but it just doesn’t sound right and I have to turn it in within the hour.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my job more than anything and I am so grateful that I’m able to live in Michigan and work for myself. I’ve done the restaurant work throughout college and I’ve worked in various office environments. I know how shitty it is and whenever I become so frustrated with my current job that I consider throwing my laptop into a pond, I think of the days I had to wake up and put on “business casual” attire and instead snuggle my laptop and gently embrace it. Who couldn’t love this? I DON’T HAVE TO WORK WITH OTHER HUMANS. Incredible.

The thing is that when you work for yourself, everyone else seems to think you’re always on vacation, always able to jump up at the drop of a hat and go on a ski trip, and have all the freedom in the world. Yea, that freedom? It doesn’t exist if you’re self-employed because no matter what you’re doing, you’re working. Whether it’s physically or mentally, you work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. There is so much uncertainty and stress and it’s hard to not let it get the best of you. And if you think you’re immune to all this because you’re really organized, you’re wrong.

Not only are you writing, but you’re also keeping track of every penny you make for tax purposes, regularly finding work, regularly keeping work, answering emails to clients who don’t realize you’re working for several other people, trying to balance your time to manage all the clients, and oh, finding time to sleep. You have to do it all and it really is equivalent to running a small business.

Since I started freelancing in January, I’ve had at least 20 bloggers ask me how to get involved in the industry. A common misconception is that I started freelancing through blogging. I won’t lie, blogging has helped and encouraged me significantly. Blogging has changed my life in a lot of ways, and if I didn’t blog I probably wouldn’t have talked to people or discovered websites that encouraged me to take the plunge and start freelancing. However, blogging is not what got me the gig. I have a Bachelor’s degree in journalism and communications (I’m also one credit short of having a political science minor but hey, who’s keeping score). I’ve interned at a few local publications, submitted articles to local and school newspapers, and done the run of the mill experience required for a run of the mill journalism student. Believe it or not, I’ve come to learn that having a degree has helped me significantly as I compete in the field of “writers” who just want to make money doing it.

School isn’t everything, but it helps. Anyone can write, but you’ll have a harder time getting into the industry if you go in saying “oh hi, I have a blog so I can write and I have a lot of ambition too.” Everyone wants to write, everyone thinks they’re a writer, and everyone thinks they have some sort of past experience that deems them qualified and relevant. Just because you’re an aspiring writer that’s dabbled in poetry and short stories doesn’t mean you’re going to make money with a writing career.

I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s true. The writing industry has become so diluted on both ends, and we can thank the good ole Internets for that. Everyone thinks they can start writing for someone, and the truth is, if you can construct a coherent sentence, you probably can. There are people out there with websites dedicated to making money off advertisements. They’ll pay a freelancer a couple bucks to write an article using specific keywords, then put it on their page and rake in the advertising revenue from all the hits they get off search engines. If you want to write that shit, go ahead. Leave the decent projects for me.

If you want to get involved with freelancing, here are some legitimate tips. By legitimate I mean better than the crap you read above this, and by tips, I mean things you should do otherwise you’ll probably fail:

Don’t quit your day job unless you’re contemplating suicide. In that case, still don’t quit your job. See a shrink instead.

Don’t question me regarding why I quit my day job and then encourage you not to. No, I don’t regret doing it. I just saw it as what I was supposed to do. I didn’t see another option.

Register on Elance.com. This is one of the best websites for finding freelance work. It’s not just for writers, either. Admin support, web designers, computer programmers and other skills are also contracted out through Elance.

Start a column on Examiner.com based on something you’re passionate about (or just know a lot about). If you write your column well, you can use it as work samples and I’ll tell you right now people love that shit. Also, if you DO apply, list me as your referral Examiner (my name/title is found in the link above) so I get 50 bucks. . No really, do it. Remember that story up there about Rolaids and car insurance? Exactly.

Don’t be afraid to start at the bottom. Your first ever freelance gig probably won’t be co-writing the next vampire bestseller. It’ll probably be on something really stupid like insurance.

Remember that when you freelance, there are two types of time: Time that brings in money and time that does not bring in money. If you don’t work, there’s no way for you to receive money. Sick days? Nope. Vacation days? Nope. Holiday pay? Nope. Overtime bonuses? Never. If you don’t work, you don’t get paid.

And here are a few things to keep in mind, otherwise they’ll really catch you by surprise:

Your friends and family will constantly wonder what you DO during the day. Since you don’t have a “real job,” can you babysit? Can you pick up something for them? Can you bake an extra set of cupcakes for the family party? Everyone else is at WORK, you know.

Not only will they expect you to be available 24/7, but if they find out you’re awake at 7am, they’ll ask why in the WORLD you’re up?! YOU WORK FROM HOME!! Don’t bother explaining them the amount of work you have to do, either. It will not compute.

Oh, and then when you tell them you write for a living, they’re going to ask “what do you write about?” and you’ll want to wring their neck because it’s so much more complicated than that and HOW HARD IS THAT TO UNDERSTAND?

Expect clients that expect you to know about one thing just because you know about another, and to also write them a scholarly article about it by TONIGHT. Oh, you liked the articles I wrote you about the best photography vacations in the country? GREAT! However, no, I cannot write an article for you about the various breeds of salamanders across the country.

Expect to feel like a jerk when you’re constantly sending payment reminders and trying to get ahold of the dude that owes you 700 bucks. However, you have to do it no matter how hard it makes you cringe.

The thing is, freelancing can really suck. However, it will never, ever suck as much as working for the man.

Steve and I cook really weird things like salmon pizza, and more recently tuna pizza (not good. NOT GOOD). When I found this recipe for avocado fries that claim to be “crunchy on the outside, creamy and nutty inside,” I knew for the sake of our… something that we had to make these. We both love avocado and guacamole, so this was going to GET IN OUR MOUTHS as quickly as possible. That IS what she said.

We stopped at Eastern Market around 9am Saturday morning. We don’t wake up earlier than 11 or 12 on weekends, so this was a task. When I say task, I mean 7 scoop coffee in a 4 cup coffee maker task. Yep. So we went to Eastern Market and literally one vendor out of what, 100? has avocados. He asks us when we plan to use them and we tell him “like, 4 hours from now.” And so he gets us the ripest avocados he has. When he said they were ripe he was NOT messin’ around because I could literally peel them with my fingers. Normally giving me an avocado and saying “peel this” is equivalent to giving me a math problem and saying “solve this” so these avocados were certainly ripe to the picking.

After our 3.5 hour nap we went in the kitchen and got down to business. The recipe calls for you to add flour and salt to one plate, two beaten eggs to another plate, and “japanese bread crumbs” to another. You then cut the avocado into 1/2 inch slices, dip them in the flour, then the egg, then the bread crumbs and deep fry them in 1 1/2 inches of 375 degree canola oil.

Well, we’re not classy and we weren’t about to hit up the Asian market for some panko (Japanese bread crumbs) so you’d think we’d use the standard Italian bread crumbs, right? No. Steve doesn’t own bread crumbs. You’re lucky he owns bread. We decided to make our own bread crumbs by making toast and crumbling it. Yea, you read that right. We also added a little salt and pepper to them just because we can. We’re CRAZY!

I put the avocado slices into the flour, then the egg, and then the bread crumbs, then stuck them in a bowl for him to fry. His father (who he had to call to ask how to tell the temperature of oil because he can’t just ESTIMATE things), told us we were likely to start a kitchen fire if we weren’t careful because the oil would foam over and BAM, fire. Luckily, that did not happen. We successfully deep fried each piece of avocado for about 30 seconds and placed them on a paper towel lined plate. They appeared to be pretty burnt so we’d lost a bit of hope, but did. not. Give. UP.

Obviously, the taste of these was extremely questionable, particularly with our homemade classy crumbs. To our surprise, they were delicious. A little flavorless? Yes. But delicious? Yes. We added a little salt and pepper and even dunked a few in tabasco sauce and HELL YEA we made awesome ass avocado fries.

Since we have 4 more avocados we need to use in “like, 4 hours” we’re probably going to make guacamole. However, if we decide to make these fries again (which is likely) we’re going to add some minced garlic and onion to the bread crumbs. NOM. Try it.

3/4 gone, and not nearly as burnt as they look. This is happening again. Tonight.

OK it didn’t happen again, but guacamole did. Here you go:

4 avocados
1-2 tomatoes
1 clove garlic
1/4 cup cilantro
1 slice of onion
Squirt o’ lemon juice
Squirt o’ lime juice
Whatever the hell else you’re into

Whip it up and name it Carlos.

Femme writes is an excellent blog meme started by Marie and Shine to give women bloggers a platform to discuss various issues that affect… women. This month’s topic is body image and here’s what I have to say about that.

I feel like I’m supposed to write here about how I have love handles, I have a chubby chin, I have stretch marks and I have thighs that sometimes touch and DAMNIT I LOOK GOOD. I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR!

Yes, that is all true about my body. Was it always true? No. As you can discover through a photo in this post, I was really thin in high school. Like, broomstick thin. Once I graduated and stopped dancing full-time, I gradually gained weight and became a bit of a healthier size for my height and age. I was drastically underweight and everyone, I mean EVERYONE, was concerned about me.

I won’t lie. When you’re that thin, you never worry about whether or not something will make you look fat or whether or not it will cover up your bad areas. You don’t have a skin fold over your jeans, your bathing suit doesn’t make you look like a can of biscuits popped open, and you never have to wear a bra. Did I love it? Of course I did.

Now, roughly 7 years later, I weigh significantly more than I did in that photo. I am not overweight, but I am not skinny either. I have curves, I have jiggle, and I have an ass that would cause me to be killed and eaten first if I were stranded on a deserted island with a group of hungry survivors.

Over the past year my weight has plateaued (is that how you spell that?) and it has stayed about the same, give or take 5 pounds. Before that, it was a slow, gradual increase. Nothing unhealthy, but an increase that DID NOT MAKE ME HAPPY. All I could think was “I’m going to gain 10 pounds a year for the rest of my life. That means by the time I’m 30 I’ll be like 600 pounds.” Except not really because I can’t do math and that doesn’t make sense at all. Anyway, I was always thinking about what to do about it, always saving clothes that fit 20 pounds ago, and thinking about how great it will be once I fit into my high school jeans again.

Last summer was the start of the plateau. It was the most I’d ever weighed, and I hated everything about it. I worked all summer and traveled a lot so it’s not like I spent much (if any) time in a bathing suit, and believe me, I passed on every opportunity to do so. I stopped wearing cute sundresses I had in my closet and didn’t even want to wear tank tops because I feared my arm flab would make me look like a pile of cookie dough. Thankfully work kept me busy and I spent almost all summer in professional clothes. Before I knew it, fall came so I was allowed to wear sweaters and bundle myself up.

And here we are. It’s summer again. I weigh exactly the same, except I’ve begun to notice that I’m going in with a completely different approach and view of myself. I work at home, so I don’t have to wear professional clothes all the time. I have been doing a lot of yoga and exercising somewhat regularly since January, and doing that has completely changed my outlook on virtually everything about myself.

Aerial yoga at the Flyhouse is one of the most positive environments I’ve ever placed myself in. Men and women of all ages, sizes and fitness levels come together to climb up fabric, hang from a trapeze and put themselves in positions that allow the entire room to see their cameltoe sweat and probably some buttcrack as well. We don’t judge and we have a blast while doing it. Also, we gain some wicked awesome muscles and start to feel better about what we can do with our bodies. I’ve also been doing yin yoga with some of the Detroit blogger girls, and stretching and relaxing in a serene, quiet and calm environment is another way to help you become one with your inner thoughts and master your splits while you’re at it.

The thing is that I’m pretty sure I look about the same as I did last summer, but I FEEL much different about myself. I have always been a confident person, but the confidence I have now is different. I have surrounded myself with positive people, started doing activities that are good for me and that I enjoy, and embraced the fact that I have a curvy, womanly shape and it doesn’t mean I am disgusting and fat. I’m healthy, I work out regularly, I’m involved in a great yoga studio and am about to join another one. I have also stopped saving pants that no longer fit because I won’t even lie… if I DO happen to lose 30 pounds, I’m going to buy an entirely new wardrobe, not wear old clothes from 4 years ago.

Last summer was also the end of a really toxic relationship I spent far too much time in, so the excess negativity from that was probably weighing my mind down as well. Things are completely different now and I am loving how I look in dresses, tank tops and the rest of my fun summer clothes.

What the hell is your point, Mandy? I guess what I’ve learned about body image over the past year is that body image doesn’t have to do with what you see in the mirror. Oh hey, let’s get a little more cliche here, why don’t we! Sure, it’s about “inner beauty” and blah blah blah, but what I’m trying to say is that even if you’re bigger than you want to be or entirely out of shape, if you are using your body to do something you love and doing things that make you feel good, you will not only get in shape, but look good as well even if you haven’t really changed. You will see yourself in a better light and be proud of the things you can do with yourself. You’ll probably carry yourself with a little more confidence and other people will pick up on it. Now get up off the couch, stop complaining about what you hate about your body, and go do something awesome with it. It’ll make you feel good.

Oh, and stop eating garbage. Garbage in, garbage out. I know you’ve heard it a million times, but everything about you will look, feel and BE better if you stop eating like a cow and start treating your body the way it deserves to be treated. Not to say I don’t dive into a little red meat here and there, but I’ve turned things around and I eat clean because I like to feel clean. It improves everything about me and it’s something that will make a huge difference in everything you do. Get down with those leafy greens and soy nuts then thank me when you’re shitting way better.

I’m thinking this is the color I would wear. My favorite part of this dress is the flower and the cleavage (I’ll take it!) although I’m leaning more toward a strapless dress.

I think this one is my favorite. I would even wear this color.

Twirls would be totally fun in this one.

I think this is sister’s favorite. I like it, but I like the fun bottoms on the others a little more.

SO MANY DECISIONS….. I want them all. The best part is that I would probably wear any of these again if I were to go to a wedding or formal event, so that’s a bonus.

Mom also made it clear that I cannot wear animal print, so I’m thrilled to see that there are other acceptable alternatives.

What do you think?

I rest my case.

So Olv (his gangster name) and I are sitting on the porch one evening and he decides to take a run to my neighbors house, which is about 4-500 feet away. I’m watching him sniff around, piss on their pool and squat to poop when I hear a sound that resembles that of a cow giving birth and being anally raped simultaneously. There are cows across the street, so I figured that’s what was happening over there and began pondering how a cow could do that to another cow while it’s giving birth. I heard the sound again, then realized I was ignoring Olv, so I checked to see what he was doing and he was still pooping in my neighbor’s yard.

Then, the weirdest thing happened. I realized the sound was in fact NOT a cow giving birth and being anally raped simultaneously, but was actually coming from my adorable little fluffball mohawk puppy as he tried to take a dump. I freaked out, went and got him, and chained him up in front of our house so he could stay near me as he tried to crap and I could panic and try to figure out why he was making a sound that resembled a cow giving birth and being anally raped simultaneously.

I got him some water, vaguely checked to see what was going on back there to see why he couldn’t poop, and he kept making this rancid ass noise. By now I’m literally crying. I remembered earlier in the day I saw that he had chewed up this weird tennis ball toy of his and it was shred to pieces in the living room, so my visual was that he was shitting shards of a tennis ball.

I’m not about to stick my fingers in his ass and this dude clearly needs to get to the vet immediately. I call my stepmom’s sister who is a vet and she tells me she’d probably stick her fingers in there and feel around, but doesn’t advise me to do that since I wouldn’t know what to do once I was in there. She finds an after hours vet that is near my house that I can bring him to, so I pack him in the car and head over.

He insists on sitting on my lap the entire ride, so by the time I get there my shirt is covered in shit that is caked on the outside of his ass. Awesome. I bring him in and tell them what’s happening, so they take him back and I wait about 20 minutes. Finally, a lady comes out and asks “Oliver’s mommy” to come into an exam room. I tell her I’m his sister, not his Mom actually. She doesn’t care.

She explains to me what happened. He probably had diarrhea the day before. Since he is basically an ewok, he is so hairy that the soggy poop dried up on his butt hair and caused a “plug” in his hole, making it very difficult for poop to come through. They had shaved the area around his butthole, he pooped, he will be fine now as long as we continue to bathe him regularly and keep his butt shaved and that will be $125.

And that’s the story of when I paid $125 to shave my dogs asshole.

You may or may not have read about this on my old blog.

However, lately I’ve had the urge to try out new nail polish and I gotta say, I am loving the fun colors that actually look good on my nails. I always feel that since I’m basically transparent, light or bright colors will look tacky on my skin but you know what? Sometimes you gotta be tacky. Actually, no. There is nothing good about being tacky, but there are plenty of good things about my nails being “super awesome.” See for yourself.

Yellow nails, man. Who woulda thought they’re THIS awesome? I die.

OMG orange! Baby tiger claws! Awesome things!

Blue nails that match my beer! How cool am I?!?

Maybe next I’ll do stripes or a reverse french manicure thing. I don’t know. I should be working, actually. I really want to make polka dotted nails but I don’t know how. Do I use a toothpick? Horse hair? Pubes? Something else really small and pointy? Help me out, ladies. I’m all over this.

There would be a power outlet and wireless internet available no matter where I was

Twilight wouldn’t exist

Hangovers wouldn’t exist

Coffee would be free before 11am (a little motivation for the day)

and all kittens would ride turtles through town