sojourner truth would be so proud....

READ ME.

so i came across this little nugget today

(via kelly oxford's brilliantly hilarious tumblr blog) 

and was like 

a ha!

(via mtv)

um, no. 

more like 

(via reuters)

aha!

yes. 

just the kick in the taco i needed. 

i often struggle with censoring myself, be it with my pirate mouth or awesomely crude sense of humor, because i find it challenging  think others find it challenging to laugh at my jokes, meanwhile finding me incredibly attractive (because, lets face it, that's what we all want, right?), taking me seriously 

as an educated woman, 

and above all, 

believing i am an amazing mama. 

can we have/be it all?  

is it acceptable for me to tell a raunchy 

joke in the midst of my otherwise 

eloquent dinner conversation? 

does my dry, often acerbic wit put me in a box, so to speak, out of which i cannot escape 

to otherwise define myself? 

do those people still find me just 

as equally a., b., and c.? 

well. 

i sure hope so. 

i am a total blam blam. 

and i certainly don't plan on hiding parts of myself as i grow up--and i use that term loosely--because aren't we supposed to become more 

ourselves as we grow? 

we may be continually influenced by numerous avenues telling us to be this, or hide that, but hows about we not set the women's movement back any further and just... be?

i realize i'm hardly the first to pose these questions, but i'm super psyched i got to use some 

big words today.

tomorrow i'm doing a d.i.y. so fantastic it will make you wanna m.o. 

get your chapstick ready.

xo

welcome to the horror show

friends, 

i have called this meeting to discuss 

something terrible. 

tonight, while in the midst of my sunday beauty routine of late--which includes a mani/pedi, a clay deep cleansing face mask, a full body wax, electroshock therapy, and a monkey-style hair nit-picking session...with a monkey--while innocently watching a dvr'd episode of 30 rock, i saw the most disturbing sight. 

this monstrosity of a commercial aired 

in between scenes:  

.

i about fell out. 

("awwwright, its time to show them ankles, please, them sexy little things 'bout a foot below yo knees.")

president, please. you're a white boy in an oversized, banana-yellow hairmet. 

oy. 

disgust. 

is this what we've come to? the ankle show??

i do realize that old navy has a certain... ubiquitous aesthetic, and therefore must market to such... but....

UGH. 

(please tell me its not just me!)  

hear me out. i've definitely purchased my fair share from the chain in question. pretty sure the majority of my "i'm having a baby then losing the baby weight then having another baby then losing that baby weight" wardrobe was from old navy until maybe the last year or so... and i definitely run in from time to time to grab a quick top or something easy & affordable for the girls.

but.

if "flirty flats" and ankle jeans (can we please talk about the cherry tattoo? are we 14 now? is it somehow 1994 and i'm being punked in a sanrio store?) are the new definition of sexy for women, 

i'm out.

whatever happened to glamour? 

(via greatitaltians, habituallychic & trendencias) 

style? 

(via gettys, tumblr)

sophistication?  

(via vogueuk, W, logos)

please don't judge me, pre-coffee, 

at an early morning preschool dropoff, but... 

i have champagne taste.

(via tumblr) 

the bitch of it is, 

i'm on a ramen budget right now. 

(via pinterest)

but that doesn't mean i can't want things. 
(and by that i mean not just "things", but a certain lifestyle.)

(via ralphlauren)

right? 

(via ralphlauren)

not obsess, or strive even, but rather luxuriate in the value of a couture piece of clothing, a fabulous shoe, or fine bed linens; exquisite, aged wine (or hell, cheese); exotic, 5-star hotels in far-flung locales... i appreciate the fine things in life. 

(via lifeofpolarnper)

there's nothing wrong with that. 

but, don't worry. i also appreciate hot dogs. 

*

(as long as they're all beef. organic kosher even. 
on a freshly baked whole grain bun with organic condiments, 
of course.)

xo

thoughts?

(does this make me sound like a 

soulless, pretentious biatch?)

(are you, too, "super c-u-t-e"? don't even get me started on this one.)

(or do you agree, and therefore, are winning?)

*ps. the dog picture is in no way meant to be offensive. i am an animal lover, thought this lil guy was adorbs, and couldn't resist being punny.*

can i get an amen?!

last night my sister took me to church. 

(via accessatlanta)

there was a revival, of sorts.

(via metromix)

the congregation was full of spirits. 

and jesus was (literally) everywhere. 

we drank cocktails at the altar of sister louisa. 

(via whatnowatlanta)

it was epic.

trust me on this. 

...but since we're still getting to know each other, there is also terribly shot photographic evidence.

(sorry peeps, i didn't lug the big ol canon out to the bar last night, mmmkay? a girl has to save room for lipgloss, lets get real.)

this was in the bathroom. in addition to hundreds of other pieces of art all over the walls of the bar by the man himself. or lady herself. whichevs.

(via metromix)

art, which includes but is not limited to:

a poodle sodomizing a lamb doing sheep yoga. 

...what? that's what I told my daughter they were doing when she asked. and i'm stickin to it, dammit.

there's nothing more humiliating hilarious than laughing this hard when you already have to pee. at least i was already in the loo.  

yes, this place is awesome to look at, doesn't take itself--or much else--too seriously, and has killer cocktails, but it was the vibe that took me most by surprise, and totally sealed the deal. 

it was, oddly, warm. friendly but cool. laid back but with enough of an atmosphere buzz that i didn't get embarrassed for yelling ("am i yelling?!" yes. the answer is yes.), laughing too loudly (which i do on occasion--so said an ex boyfriend), or making fanatical gesticulations (i'm a storyteller!). 

also it had a killer soundtrack. 

this place is, dare i say, rad.

could it be? 

i fit in??

these are my people??? 

not so fast. 

i did ask a young guy waiting for a drink at the bar if he's ever been mistaken for brian boitano. 

(via pieinthefaceblog)

turns out, he hasn't.
he was offended. 


(i meant like the b.b. of 20 years ago! not this guy!)

i was embarrassed. 
but that's my jam. i kinda live there. so its cool. 


*sidenote: in searching for these photos, i discovered not only how bendy b.b. is...

(via corbis images)

*(two thumbs up for the fancy mandex, white high tops w scrunchy socks, and complete lack 

of manscaping. awesome.)

...but also how many guys dress up as b.b. for halloween...?! (read: there are many.)

(image via runninglawyer)

anywho, back to the lesson at hand:

i had a blasty blast with my p.i.c., my big sis. 

she rocks hard.

she's way funnier than me, is currently kicking ass in nursing school, and is everything a big sister 

should be. and then some. 

oh, and she coined the term "baby buttons." "lady buttons." you figure it out.

i got some very much needed quality grown-up time. (i promise to fill you in on the 

why's & all that later!) 

gonna have to make it last. 

also: pretty sure edward furlong circa 

pet semetary 2 is a barback here.

i'll definitely be going back to sister louisa's church of the living room and ping pong emporium sometime very soon. i hear they have church organ karaoke on sunday nights, and you know i'm dying to give testimony! 

XO

aaaaaaaaaand scene.