My brother Patric and his wife Paige are visiting for the week and this means a few different things.
1. There is always really good snack food in the house.
2. I always have to put on a bra and can’t walk around in my undies.
3. I actually have things to do.
On Monday, after a barre video and walk with Scotti, we piled in the car and went to Marshalltown.
Four pedicures, a dirty chai, poking around Goodwill and loads of margaritas and Queso dip. It almost made it okay that I missed New Girl and The Mindy Project.
This past weekend was a busy one, filled with work and to-do lists. Sunday morning I got a text from my best friends mom, asking if I wanted to go to the second round of Miss Iowa USA and watch her daughter compete. Um, watch girls with big hair and pretty dresses? Yes please. I of course loved it. All those concave stomachs and thigh gaps make for swell workout inspiration. And I kinda think I need a pageant coach for my life.
And BTW, I looked superadorable. No surprise there.
I’m totally filing this outfit away for the next time I have to go to church, and I’ll clearly have to buy Lilly’s Cassie Slub dress in a few more colors. Darn.
Also, maybe I should start wearing jewelry. Maybe.
One of my favorite things about fall and Thanksgiving is Pecan Pie. Like, I could eat a whole one and be a happy turkey.
The only issue is, I suck at making pie. Thank God I found this recipe on Pinterest for Pecan Bars. They were deliciously simple, a hit with grownups and would probably bring you to foodgasm if served with vanilla ice cream. And I had ALL of the ingredients in my pantry. Like whoa.
I’ve only reread the first two chapters of Patti Stanger’s book “BecomeYour Own Matchmaker” and I really need her to come to Iowa and give me some direction. I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!
I’ve never actually had a “real” boyfriend. I’ve had boys I would call when I needed physical attention or an ego boost, boys who would take me to dinner when I was hungry and always knew my favorite DVDs. Hell, I have a baby daddy. But no ex-boyfriend. Does that put me ahead or behind all the other 25 year old girls?
Can you create a panel of men to tell me what I should do to improve my look? I can guarantee that all the males I know would mock me and probably encourage me to buy something ridiculous.
How much can I talk about my pets before it get weird?
Where do I find hobbies? Can I bake for him, or does that need to wait until after so many dates?
Should I send out a SurveyMonkey link to all the boys it didn’t work out with?
Does my cocktail of social anxiety and daddy issues make me superadorable or just whacko?
Should I keep living in my moms basement? Or should I focus on getting a big girl job and an apartment and moving somewhere else, before I work on falling in love?
I discovered this recipe on Twitter last winter. No, I can’t tell you who originally posted it or any of that legal jazz, but I can tell you that I am so happy that person exists. I only bake mine for eight and a half minutes, because I fully believe that cookies should be chewy and soft, and used both white chocolate chips and regular chocolate chips.
Now, what should I make for youth group this week?
Every week, I bake. I bake because I love it. The warm oven, the KitchenAid, attempting to not eat dough. I bake for my friend’s junior high youth group, I bake for various meetings my mom attends, I bake because sometimes it’s the only way I can think of to show people that they are cared for.
Last week for youth group I decided to try this recipe from Six Sisters, which I stumbled upon via Pinterest. What I got was a glooby mess, so I did what any normal girl woul do. I melted some marshmallows and butter and made cereal bars. They looked delicious, and he junior highers approved. Moms of junior highers; sorry for snacking your kids with marshmallows, cake mix, almond bark and sprinkles.
That’s a lie. I’m not sory at all.
This past week I was trying to figure out what exactly I was aiming for with this blog. Who am I trying to reach? What point am I trying to get across?
I realized that one thing I want to do is prove that Iowa girls can wear fun, fashionable outfits. That a girl doesn’t need access to a Whole Foods and Gold’s Gym to look banging, that there’s good wine made outside of Napa. I need inspiration to actually get out of my house, and maybe even my town on occasion, and DO SOMETHING.
I currently don’t have internet access at my house. Whatever. I’m pretty sure that there are millions of young women my age who don’t have 24/7 access to the Web and they’re getting by. Why not try to write three to four reallyfuckinggood posts a week, instead of seven soso ones?
Eventually, I would love if I could make money from this. Or get an adventure funded. Or maybe just prove to people that I’m not as crazy as they’ve been led to believe.
So here we go, round two. Let’s do this bitches.
Love you, mean it.