Are You Ready For Your Close Up?

Yes, Gentle Reader, it's been awhile since we've connected. Summertime rosé drinking while chasing naked preschoolers in my backyard just seems to be consuming more time than planned. However, it's Friday, and it's been a long week, and it's high time that we discuss the burning question that seems to be on everyone's mind.

How do I take an actually sexy, sultry, possibly saucy, selfie?

If you are like my group of friends (and as my only readers actually are my group of friends, you're in luck), the topic of sexting is something that comes up quite often. We want to know who's doing it. (All of us.) What are the best tips & tricks? (Be patient already, that's what this post is for.) What reaction are they getting? (Ranges from "Oh hell yeah" to "I'll be home in 15 minutes. Get ready.") Trust us - if you haven't already jumped on the sexy selfie train, it's time to get on board.

Choo choo!

Tip 1: Take a look around
Toys and laundry are not sexy. Open pizza box and crumpled napkins? Not sexy. Pretty sheets, a wine glass? Yes, those work.

Tip 2: Speaking of wine glasses...
Go ahead and fill that one up. Yes, I know that drinking wine is my answer to pretty much every question. But that's because it always works! Especially when you need to relax & put yourself in a comfortable, laissez-faire frame of mind. Enjoy the process - which also includes anything else that makes you feel sexy. Red lipstick, lingerie, your man's shirt, a song, a fantasy, you get it.

Tip 3: Lighting is important
Mood lighting during the sexy selfie session is a little different. Try and shoot in the daytime/early evening. Natural light works best. Steer clear of harsh yellow or floursecent overhead lighting. Not even a filter can save you there.

Tip 4: And speaking of filters....
Oh, you're absolutely gonna want to filter that shit...sexy selfies are pretty much the reason why filters were invented. Make yourself a little tanner, a little glossier, a little fuzzier. You're still you, only more so.

Tip 5: Use your assets
Got sexy bee-stung lips? Rock that red lipstick, open your mouth and sigh. Amazing cleavage? Shoot high & capture your lacy bra and a glimpse of a thong. Great ass? Mirrors are your friend for capturing that booty. Arch your back a bit & let it pop. You could also show off that cleavage at the same time if you're so inclined.  Legs for days? Pull on those thigh highs, lay on your back & kick your legs up to show them off. A great option for a day that you feel sexy, but you don't feel like primping? On your back, shoot down to capture your pretties or sheerest undies. And when all else fails, shoot from above. Very helpful in slimming certain areas and highlighting others. It's a process though, take your time, enjoy your wine, you'll find your best angles.  

Tip 6: Less is more
Show your face or show your body. Do not show both. Sadly, you just never know, and having some plausible deniability is in your best interest.

Tip 7: I woke up like this
Another fun, not as risque, but still certainly very sexy option is the "I just woke up, I'm laying in bed & I'm thinking of you" shot. You don't need to show off your goodies if you don't want to - a tank top and shortie shorts go along way here. Plus you've got the early morning lighting on your side. Another option is to go topless, but go for the headshot so he/she can see your cute bedhead hair, maybe a smudge of last night's red lipstick and your bare shoulders. "Wish you were here."

Tip 8: Don't be so hard on yourself!
You are gorgeous. Whomever is on the receiving end of that sext is going be beyond thrilled to see what you've got for them. Own your curves, rock your sexiness, you are a freaking goddess.

And one final tip for the guys out there....for the love of all things sexy, do not send us a dick pic. Never. No, not ever. Like ever.

Did I miss anything? I'm always ready to up my sexy selfie game! 

It's Your Day - A Woman's Day.

Today is International Women's Day.  Nasdarovje*!

I first became aware of International Women's Day, oh, maybe 5 years ago.  Our close friends, Maura & Gabe, having been in the Peace Corp in Ukraine where Women's Day is an actual national holiday, brought the celebration back to us here in Seattle.  They would host a party, they said.  We were to arrive at 3pm. We were instructed to bring a bottle (or two) of vodka, and we were given specific Ukrainian dishes to make & bring to share.  (Aside:  I was, until this party, a beet virgin.  Beets stain things, friends. They stain everything.  End of aside.)

When one arrives at an International Women's Day party, one notices that all of the regular furniture that belongs in the host's living room is absent.  Instead, it is replaced with long family-style tables and chairs. The tables are lined with bottles of vodka and overflowing bowls of food wherein potatoes and pickled vegetables are in abundance.  Everyone is smiling and laughing and hugging and talking.  Find your seat, friends, because the celebration is about to begin!  Nasdarovje!

It's International Women's Day**, and it's a day to celebrate the women in our lives, the women we love, the women who have changed us, the women who have made us who we are, the women we can't imagine our lives without, the women who inspire us, the women who give us hope, the women who have sacrificed for us.  It is a day for all women:  mothers, daughters, sisters, grandmothers, wives, and girlfriends.

We all take our seats at the table, and there is a buzz in the air.  Someone stands, raises his glass, and proposes a toast to the beauty & loveliness of all of the women in the room.  Definitely a toast I can get behind.  Nasdarovje!  We all clink, drink, and the celebration is officially underway.

This Women's Day party is truly a Thanksgiving.  Strangers are now family, bonded over our common love of women.  And vodka.  The food is never-ending.  "Just keep eating," Maura encourages us.  We all take turns standing & offering our toasts to all of the world's wonderful women.  The celebration continues into the night.  We're dancing and laughing and the toasts begin to get a little blurry.

The next morning I wake up with beet-stained fingers, glitter in my bed, and a deep gratitude for all of the strong, courageous, wise, patient, generous, beautiful women in my life, both near & far.

Today is International Women's Day.  I think a celebration is in order.
Here's to you, ladies.  Nasdarovje.

*I do not know if this is the correct spelling.  The internet offers many options.

**Please note, International Women's Day has a long history, and I am not trying to discount that by leaving it out of this post.  This is simply how Women's Day was introduced to me, and this is what it means to me.

***Maura's original caption to this picture was, "Tim, it's Women's Day! Give her that beer! And for that matter, give her your hat too!"

Get Glowing!

Confession time:  I gained 10 pounds in the last 6 months of 2013.  True story.  Wow, it's, like, even more shocking now that I see it in writing.  Now before you think I was unhappy or using chocolate & cheese to soothe myself during another Seattle rainy day, I want to make something clear.  I totally loved every minute that I was making myself fat.

I know.  Gasp, right?

Here's the thing - 2013 was a great freaking year.  I celebrated early & often with amazing meals which included lots of wine, bread & dessert.  I also work from home which means getting from my bed to my workspace is a minimal commute, and I'm not spending the hours on my feet that I used to.  And while I embraced running in the early part of the year, later it just didn't seem as important as work, playing blocks with Boo, or binge-watching Friday Night Lights.  Basically, any kind of balance flew out the window, and my health & well-being became my lowest priorities. Sound familiar?

And then came mid-December.  Holy shit, friends.  I could, quite literally, only fit into 2 pairs of my pants - not including yoga pants. Yoga pants, I might add, for which I was clearly not wearing to do yoga.  Dude. That sucks.  That sucks so bad.

Something had to give.

I am a person that both puts weight on & takes it off pretty easily.  But I didn't need a crash diet or a quick fix.  I needed a lifestyle change.  A new way of thinking.  A mindset reboot.  I needed a new balance.

And then I found Jenn Jordan, the Resolution Challenge, and For The Glow.

Long story short - the Resolution Challenge is a 6-week program for women only that includes personal coaching from the amazing Jenn, a detox diet, meal plans, webinars, tons of recipes, participation in a private Facebook community, daily online workout videos plus loads of additional workout options including in-person here in Seattle.  At this point, I am only 4 1/2 weeks in, and I swear to God, my life has changed.  And because I could not imagine not being a Glow Girl anymore after my 6 weeks is up, I am now a Lifetime For The Glow Member.

Aside:  I am not usually the type of person that schills things via my blog, right?  You've got to know how much I love this program if I'm writing about it.  In addition, I'm really not the type of person that talks about eating healthy & working out either so that also speaks to my passion.  End of aside.

And this is why I'm writing this blog post.  While I'm not going to give you my results just yet - hey, I still have a week and a half to go - I will tell you, a pair of jeans I haven't been able to wear in 7 months, fit again.  My super skinny-haven't-been-able-to-wear-them-since-2008-jeans are thisclose to looking amazing. (Although stylish may be a different story.)  But it's not about the weight loss anymore.  It's about the complete & total lifestyle change.  It's about feeling, looking, and actually being strong.  It's about positivity & mindfulness & inner beauty.  It's about making the best choices for myself.  It's about balance.  It's about community.  It's about realizing that I'm stronger that I think I am. It's about kicking ass.

"I'm not telling you it's going to be easy.  I'm telling you it's going to be worth it."

I wanted to blog about For The Glow right now because I know there are a lot of ladies out there that feel the same as me.  You want a change.  You need a change.  You're seeking balance.  You're ready to kick some ass.  If that sounds like you, I highly, highly recommend joining me as a Glow Girl right now.

Cause here's the thing - from now through Feb 11, you can become a Lifetime Member for $189.  That means you'll get tons of meal plans, diets, workouts, connection to an amazing community of women, and coaching from Jenn.  Oh, and when you do those workouts, first you'll get your ass kicked.  But before you know it, you'll be kicking ass.  And no, you don't have to be in Seattle. You can totally have your ass kicked virtually.  You'll also automatically be enrolled in each year's Resolution Challenge (Jan/Feb) plus Bikini Boot Camp (Apr/May).  But if you decide to do this after Feb 11, the price goes up to $799.  Rightfully so.  I seriously feel incredibly lucky to have met Jenn, discovered For The Glow and become a Lifetime Member for such a great value.

Okay, I'm off my soapbox now.  (Fortunately, these days said soapbox does not buckle under the pressure of my person.)  I'm just so unbelievably excited at how I look & feel right now that I just want you all to come Glow with me.

Note:  The For The Glow website is under construction right now so while this link will work for you to learn more about Jenn & the program as well as sign up, you won't be able to poke around the rest of it right now. But that will all change when the new site goes live on 2/11! 

Additional note:  I'm not, like, getting paid by Jenn for telling you guys about her program or for anyone who signs up.  I really & truly just wanted to share my experience with you.  That, and my newfound love of green smoothies, Amazing Grass and chia seeds. 

It Was A Great Day

I found some old journals while cleaning out my closet the other day, and I starting thumbing through a few of them.  There was an undated entry from what I'm guessing was my sophomore year at Albion.  It was titled, "Perfect Moments:  days I would like to live over exactly as they were." (Um, I know I'm talking about myself here, but seriously, how cute is that?)

As I read through the list, it occurred to me that nothing on it was really earth-shattering.  These were not the *BIG* moments, the supposedly life-changing events that mark most of our histories.  Birthdays, graduations, proms, holidays, "firsts", they were not included on the list.  No, instead, the most Perfect Moments of my 19-years were made of simpler stuff.

A particularly perfect sunny August day spent at the lake.  A trip to an amusement park. Wasting away an afternoon doing nothing with my BFF while waiting for what we thought was the "real fun" at a party later that night.  Three college buddies walking for miles, on a road to nowhere, talking about nothing & everything all at the same time.  Spilling secrets while sitting on the side of a lake drinking High Life from a can.  An impromptu dance party under the stars.

I smiled as I read this list.  Some of the Perfect Moments I remembered clear as day.  Others I had to dig deep to place.  Some of them I can't find again at all.  And yet, I'm still smiling.

I'm smiling because I knew then that happiness could be found in a cup of coffee at Silverman's or a shared laugh or a real & true conversation.  I knew that I had something special in the good friends that I had found.  I knew that life's Perfect Moments weren't those that were photographed & stuck in albums or those with their own recurring space on the calendar or those that required a special outfit.  Even at 19, I knew better.

While I've been wasting my time waiting for the "something bigs" and the "super-excitings", the for real Best-Days-Ever are taking place right now.  And suddenly, I know now what I knew then.  Millions of Perfect Moments are happening every day.

Now, let's start up that list again, shall we?    

Wanderlust

We are leaving for Hawaii on Friday, and while I'm unbelievably excited & grateful to be taking this trip with Tim & Boo, I can't help feeling a little nostalgic for the old days of travel.  The days where the goal of visiting all 7 continents before age 40 was actually within reach.  We haven't left the country, in, what, 5 years?  (Oh my god, can that really be true?)  No wonder I'm becoming all numb and ethnocentric and "U-S-A!" like. 

Yes, I am still a travel snob at heart.

I need culture.  I need menus that aren't in English.  I need walking all around a new city, miles and miles, just because it's fun or I'm lost.  I need mispronouncing words to the locals and being laughed at by food truck workers.  I need beaches and mountains and smoggy cities.  I need dogs running around in places they most certainly should not be running.  I need museums and monuments and all of the wonders of the world.  I need hanging on so tight to my purse so a guy on a moto doesn't snatch it off me.  I need rickshaw drivers taking me to shady sex shows that I (probably) did not request. I need color and vibrance.  I need sketchy, but oh-so-delicious street food and questionable "burgers".  I need boarding passes and carry-ons.  I need sleep deprivation and jet lag.  I need dirty hair and dirty clothes and a make-up-free face.  I need drinking local beer and eating lobster with my hands on the beach.  I need dancing and hiking and bungy-jumping and cliff-diving and tandem-biking and glacier-walking and zip-lining and thrill-seeking and adreneline-running.  I need to be that person I am when I travel all of the time.

I need to go away. Now.

Badges of Honor

The other day I was at the hair salon, and I was eavesdropping - as you do - on the women at the station next to me. 

"I cannot believe that's Beyoncé.  She's way too skinny.  That's airbrushed to hell."
"Do you think she really had her baby?"
"NO."
"I don't either."
"There's no way that girl would have only gained that tiny bit of weight.  If Beyoncé was pregnant, she would've been HUGE.  She would have had fat freakin' arms.  Her face would be all bloated and huge.  Girlfriend puts on WEIGHT.  You just know she'd be that pregnant woman with the nasty gas, zits and a mustache."

It was at this point that I began to interrupt to say, "And clearly, you have children too.  Cause that's the only way you're allowed to even comment about pregnancy...and get away with it."

I was thisclose.  But I chose to keep my mouth shut.  Hey man, I really like this place, and I am not trying to start fights with random strangers.  Especially as I was 99% sure that this woman did not have children have her own. 

Okay, Gentle Reader, here's the thing.  If you haven't been there, you don't know.  And if you don't know, you need to shut the hell up.  Pregnancy is a messy business.  Yes, some of us get huge.  Our bodies do crazy things, make crazy sounds, turn crazy colors.  And the horrors that come along with giving birth?  Yikes.  And the post-baby experience - even years later - is still no picnic. 

Listen up - We were GROWING A PERSON inside us. Perhaps we could be cut a little bit of slack as we're rocking meaty arms, swollen faces, and acne better suited to a 13 year old boy.  Just a little bit?

And later, after that little person has officially joined our world, I say we wear our new bodies like uniforms - and with pride.  My little(ish) tummy pooch?  An achievement medal.  My less-than-perky breasts?  Life-saving gear.  Thick arms?  Necessary for combat.  Stretch marks?  Service ribbons.   

Our imperfect bodies are worthy of this recognition.  They went above and beyond the call of duty, my friends.  They are heroes.    

So what if we need a little camouflage every once in a while?

Dirty

I like to mess up beauty.  I like to get clean things dirty.  I like to create chaos where there would otherwise be sameness.  I like to muddy the perfect. 

I want to casually knock over rows and rows of carefully placed dominos.  I want to kiss a perfectly made-up cheek with sexy hot pink lipstik.  I want to f*ck wildly on a well-made bed.  I want to smudge newsprinty fingers on important work documents.  I want to spill coffee on white linen pants.  I want to use the black crayon to color not only outside of the lines, but on the floor and the walls too.  I want to fondle all of the sculputures and caress all of the paintings in the Louvre.  I want to chip my purple dishes with purpose as I wash them.  I want to splash in a mud puddle while wearing my wedding dress.  I want to scream while flying a silent redeye.

I want imperfection.  I want faults and flaws.  I want snags and defects.  I want disorder and commotion 

In imperfection, we find true beauty.  And in chaos, we find comfort.