My Jewelry Habits Have Changed

As you some of you may already know, I have started selling Chloe and Isabel jewelry. But maybe not for why you would think...

Until recently, a large portion of my jewelry collection was from J.Crew and the J.Crew Factory store. I like jewelry that stands out and for the past 3+ years, they've been able to deliver that. In fact, I loved their jewelry so much that I frequently gifted it to my friends. Like this year, when I bought my best friend a J.Crew Factory necklace for Christmas. Originally like $60, I think I got it on sale for somewhere in the $35 range. Not a bad price, and I knew how badly she wanted that particular piece (which had previously been sold out), so I felt good about my purchase. Well I got it in, wrapped it up, and gave it to her. My friend is like me and has a million and a half different necklaces, so she put it into her closet for a few months until she had the perfect outfit for it. When she pulled it out, one of the stones has fallen out of it. No big deal. We'll just take it back to the store when we are in Dallas for work in a few weeks. So we do, only they wouldn't exchange the necklace because they didn't have another one like it in the store, and instead of letting us pick out another piece to replace it, they told us that we could return it for credit. The credit on that necklace without a receipt was whatever it rang up at, then 50% of that because of the discount they were running that day. So the $60 necklace that I had purchased for $35 was now worth a whopping $15 of store credit. I was infuriated. I explained the situation and yet, we still only got $15 in credit. I suppose my friend could've kept it, but a stone was gone and I knew she would never wear it. I told her to get the credit, but in my head, I was screaming angrily about the money I had just flushed down the commode.

This is when it all changed for me. I guess because of this one bad experience I started thinking back to all of the times that I'd bought jewelry that didn't last. And then, I started thinking about how long my other pieces of jewelry would last before looking tarnished or getting that weird old metal smell to them. At some point during my reflection, I started talking to my friend about how fed up I was with companies charging me $30-60 for something that barely lasts the season, and it's not like I'm buying 1 piece for the season. I was buying 5-6 pieces every season. So then my friend said something to me that made me stop dead in my tracks - "we spend a lot of money on cheap a** jewelry". As a matter of fact, I spend a CRAP TON of money on cheap a** jewelry, and for what?! When it gets broken, they give me $15 for it even though the tags are still on and it's never hardly even been touched. NO, thanks.

NOTE: I would like to state for the record that this is an issue with lots of companies that sell fashion jewelry. This particular experience just happened to have been with J.Crew.

So here's what I decided…
From now on, I am only buying direct sales jewelry (Chloe and Isabel, Premier, Stella and Dot, Origami Owl, etc.). In fact, I signed up to be a Chloe and Isabel merchandiser for just this reason. I'm sure you are wondering why the heck I'd ever do that, but here's why…

Even though the jewelry from direct sales companies can sometimes cost a little bit more, the benefits of FAR outweigh the little bit extra on the pricetag.

1. The quality of the jewelry is a ZILLION times better than the stuff you find in most clothing stores. Most fashion jewelry is plastic or a generic plated metal. It is only made to last a season, so it can break and tarnishes quickly. Chloe and Isabel's pieces are usually gold or rhodium plated. It makes for a better looking and longer lasting piece of jewelry. Also, they use semi-precious stones, the crystals are pave, and they have a line of really adorable sterling silver jewelry.

2. So let's say something happens to your jewelry in 3 months, most direct sales companies have a lifetime guarantee on their jewelry. If my Chloe and Isabel jewelry ever breaks or is damaged, I can return it to the company and get a new one. All I have to do is pay a shipping and handling charge of $5. So even though I may pay more for a necklace, at least I know that I'll literally have it for the rest of my life if I want to.

3. Buying the jewelry from a merchandiser is helping that person make a little extra money. I always like knowing that my purchases will go to benefit someone I know. If I can buy a pretty piece of jewelry and it helps my friend make some money so she can take a vacation or stay home with her kids, then by gosh, I'm gonna do it.

4. At least with Chloe and Isabel, they literally have a line for every style type and every budget. I sent an email to my friends and family asking if they would choose 3 pieces they liked the best, so that I could figure out what pieces to add to my collection (I literally couldn't choose for myself), and they all came back with something completely different.

Classic and Refined: Retro Glam Square Cut 3 Layer Necklace

Trendsetting: Jardin Majorelle Statement Necklace

Minimalist: Three Row Paillette Graduated Pendant

These companies are built on empowering women to become entrepreneurs while selling great products. I honestly can't tell you why I haven't been buying my jewelry from them all along.

So if you're following me on Twitter or Instagram, be prepared to see a lot more posts about Chloe and Isabel's jewelry. I am super passionate about this company and their products. Hopefully you'll find a few pieces you LOVE, or at least you can enter some of the drawings I'll be doing!

Hope you are all having a lovely Southern Saturday! XoXo

Let's Talk Tanning

I am a former tanaholic. Okay, I probably shouldn't say "former", because I still totally love to be tan. If there were a surgery to make you permanently tan, I'd be all OVER it. However, my tanaholic ways got me into a bit of a pickle, so I am no longer allowed to tan via sun or tanning bed. Long story short, I have early signs of melanoma caused by years of tanning bed use. I had a couple of moles biopsied some years ago and they came back with cell changes. Not enough to be full blown chemo-needing melanoma, but enough to need surgery to make sure that the biopsy had removed all of the bad (potentially cancerous if left alone) cells. Well as it turns out, damage to your skin just gets worse over time, so at 27, I've now had 4 surgeries to remove dysplastic cells. This ultimately translates to my complete aversion to the sun, and thus translucent colored skin. Wait, is translucent even a color? Anyway… moving on… 

Being unable to tan has created its on new challenges, like finding a makeup that matches freakishly pale skin and not looking like a ghost during the summer months when everyone else has such a lovely sun tanned glow. So a few weeks ago, I went on a fact finding mission to find out if self tanner actually works. I've done the whole spray tan thing a few times at my tanning salon, and it just wasn't my cup of tea. I didn't like that I couldn't control the places it covered - HELLO, weirdly orange feet and hands. I also really despised the smell of it (I have a sensitive sniffer). So after seeing Jessica James Decker talk about how she stays so perfectly sun kissed in her hair tutorial video, I decided to give it a shot. If you've ever watched Eric and Jessie, you know how fantastically tan that girl is, so I decided to hit my local Sephora up to see about some St. Tropez self tanner. 

Enter awesome makeup lady at Sephora. I talked to her for a while about St. Tropez, application, smell, sensitivity, etc. and eventually after my interrogation, she suggested this Vita Liberata stuff. I told the Sephora lady that I hated the smell of self tanners, that I wanted something not orange, and something that wouldn't irritate my skin (I'm also cursed with ridiculously sensitive skin). Vita Liberata is organic and adjusts to the pH of your skin so you don't get orangey. The chick who created it is Irish, so it's made by pale people for pale people. 

It was a little more expensive than the St. Tropez, but being that it was organic and odorless, I felt okay paying a little bit extra. She also suggested I purchase a mitt to go with it. The Vita Liberata and St. Tropez are designed to set on your skin so quickly that using your hand to apply causes freaky dark palms. Of the two, she suggested the St. Tropez mitt instead of the Vita one for application. She said it was personal preference, but I figured she knew what she was doing and chose the St. Tropez mitt. 

Here's what I found out about Vita Liberata and Self Tanning In General:

1. Exfoliate like a maniac, but do it the day before. I exfoliated with a Burt's Bees sugar scrub right before tanning and my tan came off ridiculously fast (within a week and a half), which was odd because it was supposed to last 3-4 weeks. I realized a few days later that my sugar scrub was leaving a light film on my skin so my tan wasn't fully absorbing. 

2. READ ALL THE INSTRUCTIONS - They actually are very helpful. 

3. The first day you want to tan, do it at night. Take a shower, wash your hair, get nice and clean, then get ready to tan. You aren't supposed to wash with soap until you've completed 3 applications (you're creating the base tan), which is basically a day and a half if you do it my way (see #4). If you're obsessively hygienic like me, it will be torture, but getting a good clean in before tanning will help.

4. Tan at night the first time, sleep, wake up, rinse the excess tan off (NO SOAP), tan again that morning. Sit in your filthy self tanningness for the day, rinse before bed and tan again. That's 3 applications with about 12 hours in between each application (they say 3-8 hrs, but I wanted to be thorough…and tan). My Sephora lady suggested applying at night every night for 3 nights. Rinsing each morning before work. But yeah, I can't go that long without soap. 

5. Make sure you don't rinse out your mitt until you are positive you've covered your whole body. Yes, I forgot an arm once. No judgments, please.

6. Use a damp washrag to smooth out the tanner on your elbows, around your wrists and around your armpits. I didn't have any issues with my knees being nasty, so I didn't bother with them much. My wrists were the only place I noticed anything uneven and only the first time I did it.

7. Don't freak out when you wake up and you have an uneven looking tan. The excess tan that your skin didn't absorb tends to make things look really scary until you rinse it off. 

8. To keep your tan looking good, I suggest doing an application a week after the initial 3 application base to keep it fresh. I've done the base tan plus 2 applications, and I think I'm barely halfway through my bottle. It definitely lasts a while.

9. I almost forgot this one - don't buy that face tan stuff to go with it. I just used the excess on my mitt to tan my face and it worked perfect. No breakouts, no sensitivity, nothing. Just make sure you use the damp rag to wipe a little bit around your eyebrows and upper lip. 

Here's my after picture….

Successful Self Tan

I have to say that this stuff is really forgiving. I'm a complete mess about everything in life and yet somehow this stuff came out looking really nice and professional. I was like 99% sure I was going to look like a streaky idiot, and I didn't! Just make sure you have someone to help you with your back - I had a giant white spot in the middle of mine, because I refused to wait for my husband to come help me. Patience is not one of my virtues.

As far as sensitivity goes, I have't had any. And yes, there is a very slight sunless tanner smell to it, but nothing that I found offensive or overwhelming. Also, I got the medium color tan, but I feel like I could've gotten the dark and been fine with it. It just depends on how risky you want to get with it. I like my tans DARK, so next time I'll probably try the darker color. However, I do have the complexion to carry tans well. If you aren't able to naturally tan very easily, I would still suggest the medium or maybe light. 

I sincerely hope this helps you all in your tanning endeavors, if you have any questions, leave me a comment!

Swimsuit Struggles Are REAL!

Well, it’s mid-April already, which means that the racks of my favorite retail stores are starting to be filled with my arch nemesis – the swim suits. My family has a long tradition of vacationing along the Gulf of Mexico, so my feud with swim suits has been a lifetime one. When I was 15 or 16, I was so scrawny that bathing suit shopping made me angry because the cute ones were for girls with boobs. Now that I’m adult and my body is no longer of toothpick proportions, swim suit shopping has created new and more offensive challenges. Here are a few of the struggles that I’ve endured since trying to find a swim suit for our Tybee vacation this summer…

1.       Why the heck is everything neon? No one looks good in radioactive lime green. Also, this girl in the dressing room trying this thing on is obviously not old enough to remember the first time that neon reared its ugly head. Maybe that’s why she thinks hot orange and hot pink look cute together…? Maybe she’ll also crimp her hair while she wears it. Seems only appropriate.

2.       WHY ARE THERE SO MANY STRINGS?! What ties to what? I just want to be able to pull these things on like underwear, not try to figure out how it all fits together first. I AM NOT AN ENGINEER! I’m not prepared for this level of complicated design.

3.       <Picks up Triangle bikini> This would only cover my nipple. The side boob would just be so ridiculous.

4.       If I buy a swimsuit with an underwire, is it going to look like I’m just wearing a bra? I kind of think it looks like a bra. I’m going to the beach with my parents, I can’t wear something that looks like actual underwear. 

5.       Oooooh! I like this one. It’s cute, it’s nautical, it covers the necessary bits… looking for a small bottom… medium, medium, large, extra large. <insert sting of expletives>

6.       This one would be alright... they have my size in the bottoms… <looking through rack of tops> small, small, large, large, extra large. Son of a…!!!!!

7.      I finally find a swimsuit to try on. Go change in the dressing room and this… Dear God… I look like an idiot. I can’t wear this. Also, I have got to go get a spray tan. I probably should’ve done that before trying these things on. Ugh… get this off of me.

8.       Leaves store with low self-esteem and anger issues.

So I restart the search online. And it went a little something like this…

1.       DOES ANYONE MAKE SWIM SUITS FOR PEOPLE OVER THE AGE OF 21?!?!?!? I can’t wear this crap! I don’t want skulls on my nipples or fringe everywhere. And what is this high waisted trend? It’ll make my butt look even bigger than it already is.

2.       Let’s check the J.Crew site. It’s the one store that never fails me. So wait… the top of the suit is $60 and the bottoms are also $60?! I’m only going to wear this thing for a week. J.Crew, what is wrong with you? There’s not even enough fabric to warrant this to cost $120.

3.       Sale on sale. EXCELLENT! Maybe I can find a suit for cheap in the sale stuff. Everything is all mixed up, how do you know which top goes with which bottoms? Okay, saw the sailboat bottoms, where’s the top? Okay, no top to those. Next…

4.       I’m just going to start putting the things I can find in my size into my cart. That’ll help me find matching pieces. <opens cart> Is there seriously ONLY one suit that has both the top and bottom in my sizes?! I don’t even wear the same size top and bottom, how is this possible?!

5.       Swim suit ordered! Well that took WAY too long.

Eventually my swimsuit comes in and it has ZERO padding. If I get cold on the beach (not that being cold happens very frequently on the beach), I'm going to be able to cut through glass with my… well… you know.So I ship that one back, head to Victoria's Secret and have another repeat of my experience shopping a few days before. Eventually I just got so mad that I decided to go buy a cheap bathing suit from Old Navy that would just suffice for the week. It just has to cover the important bits after all, and I can wear a cover up most of the time anyway. 

To my shock and amazement, the Old Navy swimsuits were actually pretty adorable and had padding for those of us who are busty (you gotta have something to keep them where you want them). I tried on 2 swimsuits while i was there and both fit very well and were also really flattering. I eventually decided on the polka dot Marilyn Monroe style suit and was even more pleased with myself when my total for BOTH the top and bottom was $30. So ladies, if you're struggling to find the perfect suit while still maintaining a budget, you might take a look at Old Navy. 

Besides my suit, these are a couple of other Old Navy suits that caught my eye. Super cute, right?!

Happy suit hunting, y'all!

Things I love! {Kettlebell Edition}

Lately my life anthem has been Ms. Britney Spears' song "Work B*tch". Every time it comes on my playlist, that line "look hot in a bikini" gets me going. Britney knows me so well, because I DO want to look hot in a bikini. And since I'm probably never going to live in a big mansion or party in France, then I'm gonna "work b*tch" for a hot body… and hopefully just in time for my vacation to Tybee Island, GA this summer!

Enter my husband – Crossfit extraordinaire and man beast. He’s been doing Crossfit for ages and finally convinced me that I needed to do some WODs with him (for the Crossfit illiterate like me, that means “workout of the day”). So I participated in his WODs for a day or two before retreating back to my T25 DVDs (I so love Shaun T). During one of our WODs, my attempt at pull-ups was the most amusing thing for my husband and quite possibly the most embarrassing thing ever for me. It went something like this…

Hubs: Try to do a pull-up.

Me: …. <groans>

Hubs: Did you try to do a pull-up?

Me: Yes, did you not see my struggle?!

Hubs: Okay, try a flexed arm hang. <demonstrates flexed arm hang like a boss>

Me: <hangs like a retarded chimpanzee, zero flexed arm>

Hubs: <laughing> Okay, let’s try something else.

Crossfit is not for the weak spirited or anyone who values the use of their limbs. However in the midst of me trying to WOD, my husband bought me a kettlebell. In all sincerity, the kettlebell workouts were the only part of my WOD that I liked. There is something magical about kettlebells. The workouts are hard, but not unbearable, and at the same time your ENTIRE body is doing major work. {On a side note, can we all just laugh for a minute at the word WOD? Every. Single. Time. someone says it, I die laughing like a 12 year old who made a poop joke.}

In March I started running, but almost immediately destroyed one of my knees. I so badly wanted to be a runner, and I really enjoyed it, but my body (devil knees) just couldn’t handle it. So my husband started trying to modify my WODs so that I could exercise without feeling like a complete dumbo and that wouldn’t injure my knee any further. One of the things we started incorporating was the kettlebell because… well… I didn’t hate it. I started out doing shorter workouts with lots of repetitions of the same moves. Then last night, at the suggestion of one of my fellow kettlebell loving friends, I tried the Jillian Michaels kettlebell workout on the BeFit YouTube channel. Holy criminy, y’all. It was a mix of cardio and kettlebell, and it was AWESOME! It was only 25 minutes and once I was done, I felt like the baddest b*&^% on the block (bring it, Britney).

Just so y’all know, I’m not what one would call strong. In fact, I have tiny baby arms. I look like no muscle ever actually formed on my bones. I can’t even open pickle jars without assistance. So the fact that I was able to do this kettlebell workouts is 1. Amazing and 2. Inspiring! If my baby bird arms can do this work out, then I truly think anyone can do it. Not to say it’s not challenging… it is, but it’s also very effective. I woke up this morning with sore abs, legs and arms, and I burned enough calories to eat a small bowl of S’mores ice cream. WINNING! So if you have considered getting into kettlebell workouts, I say GET IT, GIRL. 

Kettlebells are relatively inexpensive, plus you can buy them individually or in a pack so that you can easily move up to the next weight once you’ve mastered the lower weight level. I use a 15 pounder that my husband lovingly calls my "baby bell"… he uses some obscenely heavy bell from hell. It's inhuman how much that man can lift. Anyway, 15 lbs seems to be a good weight for me and I'm 5'3", 130 lbs, but I do suggest that most people who are just starting out grab a bell a little below that. Not sure what size you need? Hit up almost any sporting goods/athletic gear store and they’ll have some out for you to pick up and test out. 

Here’s a link to a 30 lb set that I found online at Academy Sports. Also, added bonus, they are gray and pastel colored! Let’s be honest, you would look totally adorable swinging these things around.

http://www.academy.com/shop/pdp/cap-barbell-3-piece-kettlebell-set/pid-140605?N=856087419&Ntt=kettlebell&Ntk=All

And here's the Jillian Michael's kettle bell workout that kicked my rear end last night… disclaimer: I did this workout last night, wrote 90% of this post this morning, then at about 2:00pm the real soreness creeped in. Be careful on how much weight you use or you'll be like me at 2:00, trying to ease your butt out of your office chair like your 90 year old grandma.

If you decide to try out the kettlebell workout, let me know how you like it! Happy training, y’all!

Just so y'all know...I'm Back!

Well, I suppose it's been 2 years too long. A few things to catch you up on since my oh-so-long hiatus from the blogging scene.

1. I have two new additions to my family. Charlie, who is now a year and 3 months old, and Grace who is almost one. They're my fur babies and probably 99% of the reason that I haven't been blogging. Raising 2 puppies simultaneously is challenging chaotic. Charlie is a German Shepherd and Grace is a chocolate lab (lovingly known as Little Chocolate, because bless her heart, she's half the size of Charlie).

My little nuggets!

2. My husband went back to being full-time Army. This creates it's own new struggles and chaos, but it was a great opportunity and it's given us a lot more freedom financially. In fact, this year we are actually getting to take a vacation (PRAISE THE LORD). And in true Southern fashion, we are going to Tybee Island, GA, with a stop along the way in my other favorite Southern mountain town - Asheville, NC.

3. I'm trying to get healthy. I try very hard to avoid the terms "lose weight" or "get more toned". While both of those are truly lovely goals, I just want to feel better in my own skin. I want more energy, I want to feel overall better, and I want to still be able to fit in my pants by my 30th birthday. Take note ladies, after 25 things start to not work as well as they used to… your metabolism being one of them. So from 2014 on, my goal is to stop eating like a poor college student (since I'm not anymore), workout more regularly, and make better choices for my life.

As I've been going through all of these life changes, I've asked google tons of questions. Some of them yielded results, like "how to potty train a puppy", but some have not, like "what's the best protein powder for people with acid reflux" or "what does the striped J. Crew Factory maxi dress look like on a human?!?!". That may sound strange, but the struggle is real, y'all. I can't tell you how many times I've hoped to stumble across someone's blog who tells it straight up, no sugar coating, here's-how-it-is.

Anyway, I decided in the last few months to start blogging again. It'll absolutely still have some of the same hilarity that occurs in my life, my very own Pinterest recipe reviews, and new favorite fashion finds, but I also want it to be a place for someone to someday find the answer to their google question. Like, "does Pur Minerals new wine makeup really work?" or "are kettlebell workouts easy?" I feel like sharing my various experiences will help other girls, like me, who are shamelessly trolling the internet for the answers to their first-world problems and general life questions.

Well my dears, I hope you like it! Or at least don't completely hate it...

It's That Nouveau Riche

Welcome to the nouveau riche version of my blog! The 1970s tapestry floral print just had to go, so I enlisted a very lovely lady (Jessica from www.DiamondDollDesign.com) to help me freshen ‘er up. Perhaps it was the previous lack of fanciness and pastel colors that caused me such distaste, but golly, I sure am LOVING the new look. It’s amazing what a splash of color and good design can do. I think it looks like the inside of one of those houses they feature inSouthern Living. You know; those gorgeous, professionally interior decorated houses that those women claim to have created all by themselves. When really, we all know they’ve got a designer on a permanent retainer to do the real work, and all they probably did was fluff a few pillows. Anyway, I digress.

In addition to the new look, I’ve got a few new bells and whistles to tell y’all about.

My first new whistle is my handy little list of links up above this post.

Now, you can click on my “Cookbook” page to see a listing of all the links to all my stolen recipes. If you reference my first ever blog post, you’ll notice that I disclose (rather plainly) that I don’t come up with my own recipes. However, I’m quite the connoisseur of FINDING good recipes and sharing them with y’all. I guess you could call me an acquisitioner of sorts. I acquire recipes from other places, try them out and post the good ones (with my notes, of course).

The next link of interest is the “Y’all Need This” page. This is the most exciting of my new additions and is devoted to the things I am currently IN LOVE with. That gotta-have-it, can’t-live-without-it kind of love that you only get from finding something truly magnificent. I also REALLY like getting a good deal so most of the stuff on here is gonna be cheap, or at the very least, MAJORLY on sale. My keen shopping/deal finding abilities are the way I am able to afford a mostly J.Crew and Banana Republic wardrobe on my measly corporate peon paycheck.

Whether it’s a new color of nail polish, new piece of jewelry or some fancy thing-a-ma-jig that’ll revolutionize your life, I’m going to plan on posting at least one thing that y’all need per month. Maybe more… depending on how often I’ve been able to go shopping.

The next two links are the boring ones: “About Me” and “Contact”. Woopty. It’s that normal, run of the mill stuff that every blog has to have. Other new additions are those cute little gray buttons on the top of the sidebar. Now you can click to follow me on twitter, shoot me an email, or sign up for my RSS feed. And feel free to share my blog with your friends! Sharing is caring, y’all!

Leave your comments and let me know what you think! Hopefully you enjoy the new look and features of the blog. I know I’m dang excited about it!

Oh… and HAPPY FOURTH, Y’ALL!

Recipe: My Family's Taters

First things first, let me say that I am so sorry that I haven't been blogging for like the last month. For those of you who are event planners, I'm sure you can relate. April and May are the atomic bombs of the event planning year.

However, I'm making it up to you all by posting a new recipe. It's one of my favorites that my daddy actually came up with. As a Southerner, he's great at creating his own one-of-a-kind completely unhealthy recipes. Plus, it's super easy! I call this recipe Cornbread Taters.

Cornbread Taters
Ingredients:
5-6 potatoes (you can do sweet potatoes or regular, or both)
1/2 onion (chopped coarsely)
Corn Meal

Peel the potatoes and cut into french fry-like shapes. My dad does this very coarsely so they look more like longer chunks of potatoes instead of fries, but how you cut them is up to you. Put the chunks into a gallon sized Ziploc bag. Then cut up the 1/2 onion coarsely and put into the Ziploc bag with the potatoes. Once you've got everything put into the bag, add about 1/2 to 1 cup of corn meal to the bag. Close the Ziploc bag and shake. It's like Shake-and-Bake for potatoes. Make sure the corn meal lightly coats the potatoes.

Then fry the mixture of potatoes, onions and corn meal. I like to fry my potatoes in an electric skillet because they cook more evenly, but it's also fine to do it over the stove. Just make sure you watch the temperature, because the sweet potatoes tend to burn easily.

Once they're done, pull them out and let them cool. Lightly salt. The corn meal on the potatoes gives them a little bit of a crunchy texture, and the onion gives it all a really great savory flavor. I'm telling y'all, these potatoes are the most requested recipe in our family.

Enjoy, y'all!

When Pumpkins Attack

You know that show called “When Animals Attack”? Sure you do. We’ve all seen those videos where some idiot gets too close to a crocodile and gets his leg bit clean off, or the ones of the idiots taunting the grizzly bear near their campsite before getting mauled to dang-near death. There are some things you just shouldn’t do. I get it; people think that since they’re the “more advanced” species they can out stealth a friggin’ bear. News flash people: regardless of how “advanced” you may be, you still can’t run from a 2 ton grizzly. That sucker’s gonna eat you and not think a thing about it. You quickly learn two lessons from watching about 10 minutes of these types of shows: A) don’t mess with wildlife, and B) acting like an idiot can get you in trouble.

A few posts ago, I wrote about how everyone in the South has a little bit of white trash in them. I also referenced how my husband and I throw our rotten fruit over the back fence “for the birds”. No judgments please. If you had an empty lot behind your house, you’d do it, too. I can’t even begin to describe how enjoyable it can be to have a mini Olympics in your backyard… Your old celery is the javelin event - your rotten oranges the shot-put. Perhaps not the classiest of afternoon activities, but fun nonetheless.

One day a few months ago, my husband finally decided to call my fall pumpkins in. They’d been serving as back patio decoration and managed to stay nice for several months, but now they looked a little over-ripe. I had given him permission to get rid of them since they were starting to smell, but I foolishly thought that since the pumpkins were so large, he would put them in a garbage bag and throw them into the big trash can. If only I had known…

I walked off to put in another load of laundry and heard the door open and close. Soon the hubs was standing in front of me asking if I knew where the hammer was. Here’s how the conversation went:

Hubs – “Hey, do we have a hammer somewhere?”

Me – “Sure, here.”

Hubs – “Be right back. Gotta fix the fence.”

Me – “What happened to the fence?!”

Hubs – “I hit it with a pumpkin.”

Me – “How did you do that?!”

Hubs – “I really underestimated the force I would need to chuck it over the fence.”

I, of course, busted into hysterical laughter. Then I knew I had to see what kind of hammer-needing damage a pumpkin could do to a fence. I walked outside and saw what looked like the gruesome murder of a pumpkin laying across our lawn, and three fence boards that had been jarred from their normal position on the fence line. One board had come darn near clean off. Apparently even a half-rot pumpkin won’t go down without a fight!

Pumpkin Devastation

Pumpkin Guts

Naturally, my husband righted his wrong by reattaching the boards to our fence, and we had a good long laugh. Now, do you think this would deter us from launching fruit over our fence in the future? Take it as a lesson in the negative effects of tomfoolery? Use the “advanced species” part of our brains to realize that was a bad idea? Nope. We just learned that next year, when launching our pumpkins, we’ve got to decrease the distance and increase the force to make sure the pumpkin makes it completely over the fence… with no ill effects or damage to our property…

It’s the South, Y’all!

The Toilet Saga: The Memorial

It is with a heavy heart that I inform you all that my toilet has officially been taken away. I’ve been hoping, unsuccessfully, that it would magically reappear, but I don’t think it’s coming back this time.

It left this world nearly two weeks ago. I should’ve known when I saw all the signs: the city trucks, the mowing crew... I should’ve been prepared to say my goodbyes, but I was in denial. It wasn’t until I drove home one day that I realized my toilet had been removed from its proud post in the median, never to be seen again. I can only assume that the mowing crew disposed of it, deeming it as “in the way”.

My one true hope now is that my beloved toilet is in a better place… Maybe on a ranch in the sky with other old toilets, where it can play Jenga and sip Mojitos all day; a befitting fate for a toilet so wonderful and mysterious. But wherever it is, I hope it’s bringing other people as much incredible happiness as it has brought to me over the past few months.

It's taught me a valuable lesson in never taking ANYTHING too seriously. Whenever life gets me down, I need to remember that some random toilet might just show up, disappear, reappear, get moved into the median of the highway and then sprout flowers. It seems only appropriate that during its last few days on the median, flowers were planted in its tank. Perhaps someone was giving it a proper send off. Or perhaps, it was just another awesome gesture by the toilet artist to put smiles on the faces of the overworked and underpaid.

Goodbye, sweet friend.

My toilet is a metaphor of sorts; a metaphor for the insane brilliance of the small things in life. Even the seemingly normal things we use every day - like our toilets - can bring us smiles. In honor of my toilet, I’m on a personal quest to find something that I can do to bring that much ridiculous joy to someone else’s life. Sort of like a pay-it-forward of ridiculously funny things.

I’d like us all to take this time to observe a moment of silence for my toilet, and the joy it has brought me and countless others.

It's the South, Y'all!

Back of The Bottle Recipe

I come from a long line of women who have learned how to make do with what they’ve got, whether in life or in the kitchen. My grandmother has always been able to whip up pretty much anything from the things she finds in the fridge and cupboard, but not my mom. Don’t get me wrong - my mom is a wonderful cook. She makes a mean meal. The thing is though, she’s always been a busy lady so she’s had to make do by finding awesome, easy recipes that someone else came up with. Now some people might frown on that since this is, of course, the south. However, I’m embracing my momma’s method as a busy-bee of an adult. I ain’t got time for that fancy stuff.

This brings me to the best advice I’ll ever give you: check the back of your bottles. Condiments, soups, sauces - anything with a label, you better be checking for recipes. Let me tell you, this is a fail proof method of finding some seriously delicious recipes that don’t take that long to make. How do I know they’re all easy recipes? Simple. Think of the size of the label on the back of an A1 bottle or a Campbell’s soup can. You can’t fit some long fancy recipe on there. It’s got to be good and straight to the point.

I’ve used the check the bottle method for years now, and I can’t say I’ve ever found a recipe that wasn’t easy and wonderful. I’m sure there’s one out there, but for now, I’m blissfully ignorant to it.

Most recently, my husband and I were eating dinner and I was eating A1 with everything on my plate. Yes, I will eat A1 with any and everything. That stuff is dang good, and I buy it in bulk. That evening, I was enjoying some A1 with my steamed carrots (don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, it’s the culinary pairing of the century), and I decided to turn the bottle of A1 around to see what was listed on the side of it. See, I’m so used to employing the check the bottle method that I just do it naturally without even thinking about it. Lo-and-behold, glued to the side of that beautiful brown bottle there was a recipe for a slow cooker pot roast seasoned with A1. As an avid A1 enthusiast, I wanted to try this new recipe. And try it we did. My husband made this recipe because he was off on spring break, and I’m a 40-hour-a-week cog in the corporate machine. Plus, every so often I like when he’s my househusband. If I’m gonna work all day every day to put him through med-school, I like to be pampered housewife-style sometimes, too. Anyway, back on track. My husband, who hates to cook, actually said the recipe was easy peezy. In our household, “easy peezy” translates to “it wasn’t hard and I’d do it again”.

The best part though was the meal itself. The A1 pot roast was a huge success. The meat tasted great and the vegetables had this really great sweet and savory flavor to them. My husband and I both went back for seconds and scraped every ounce of it out of the crock pot for leftovers. Even better, the leftovers were great tasting, too! Reheating leftovers is like the culinary version of playing chicken: it’s you facing off against the leftovers in a battle of who’s going to get scared and give up first. Sometimes when you make something, it just doesn’t keep well. Some things get all congealed and the mere thought of eating it again is sickening, or sometimes you get the stuff that was great fresh but tastes like garbage once it’s been nuked for a few minutes. The icing on the cake for our A1 pot roast was that it kept great and fed the two of us for a week straight.

Here’s the recipe:

Ingredients:

½ cup A1 Original Steak Sauce

½ cup water

1 pkg onion soup mix (I used Lipton)

1 boneless beef chuck eye roast (2-2.5lbs)

1 lb. baby red potatoes (we just took 5-6 regular sized red potatoes, peeled and cut them up)

1 pkg baby carrots

1 onion, diced

Mix first 3 ingredients, place meat in slow cooker. Top with vegetables and sauce; cover. Cook on LOW 8-9 hours or on HIGH for 6-7 hours. After cooking, scoop out and enjoy!

The thing is, ladies, these recipes hide in plain sight. It’s just about training yourself to find them. And if you’re really desperate for a new meal idea, go to Walmart and scout out the back of the boxes, bottles and cans. If anyone asks what you’re doing, LIE. Tell them you’re on a diet and are checking the nutrition facts. When you find a recipe that peaks your interest, take a picture of it with your phone. Yes, I freely admit that I do this. It’s called southern resourcefulness.

What are y’alls favorite check the bottle recipes?

The Toilet Saga: Eclipse

I woke up this morning thinking it was going to be an ordinary boring day. I got in my car and was on my way to work when … DUH DUH DUH (that’s supposed to be the suspenseful movie music before something really crazy happens or the killer gets revealed) my toilet was gone. AGAIN. For those of you who haven’t been reading my blog for very long, you can read the first part of the toilet saga here.

See, normally when I drive up over this little hill in the road, I can see the side of the toilet sticking up just slightly. I always check to see if it’s still peeking up at me every morning and every evening on my way to and from work. This morning though, it was gone again. I started to get really panicky, because I knew that I would never see it’s beautiful porcelain sheen ever again. This had to mean that the city FINALLY came to take my toilet away. I started to worry about it. I hoped they had just decided to take it to a place where it could live happily with other roadside toilets and appliances, but I knew that my toilet was probably being crushed into a thousand pieces or thrown into some dump somewhere. My only hope was that it was being taken to a dump with a view. I mean, I am not lucky enough for someone to take and return my toilet twice. It’s like an eclipse or Halley’s comet; one of those things that only happens every so many years. That doesn’t happen twice in one lifetime. It’s like too much awesomeness for one soul to bare. So this time, I knew it had to be gone for good.

Then, all of sudden, I started to see something white off in the distance. Only, it was in the median in the middle of the road. HOT SHIITAKE MUSHROOMS!!! Could it be?! Could that be my beloved toilet’s striking white glare?!

As I got closer, I realized that I was staring at my toilet proudly positioned at the end of a median in the road. “MY TOILET!” I screamed. I was driving up on the backside of it, so the first chance I got, I whipped a U-ey in the road (screeching tires, cutting other cars off, the whole thing) and drove back up as fast as I could to get a better look. It sat there, like a monument to all things weird and white trash. It was beautiful and pristine.

Glorious.

As I sat staring in awe and trying to get a good picture, I got to thinking: who is this mystery toilet mover? What possessed them to move the toilet to that median? I mean, besides the obvious delight it will bring to the hundreds of overworked people who drive down this road every day. Do they read my blog? Were they the ones who moved it before? If they were, where did it disappear to for all that time? And how can I ever thank them for the joy they have brought to my life?

Have you ever seen anything like it? Bet not.

If I ever figure out who you are, toilet artist, I will buy you a meal. But please don’t be offended if I refuse to shake your hand. Can y’all imagine the germs on that thing?! Whoever they are, I sure hope they wore gloves.

It’s the South, Y’all!

Down Here, We're All A Little White Trash

It’s a well-known fact that the South is filled with a rare breed of humans that we like to lovingly call “white trash”. White trash has been around forever and has, in many ways, plagued and enriched all of our lives. We laugh at the white trash on TV shows such as Raising Hope and My Name is Earl, but what I don’t think you all realize is that you laugh because deep down inside of you, there’s a little bit of white trash, too.

Every Southerner, born, bred or otherwise transplanted here, has something they do that is in some way considered WT. In my neighborhood, we have an entire family of people who I would consider to be WT. And it’s not just because their 3 year old son runs naked through the neighborhood at least once a day, or the fact that we see him stand on the top of their minivan and watch traffic go by, or that he uprooted the dead mini tree out of their front yard and proceeded to hit the other kids and their minivan with it. They do other WT things, too. My husband and I lovingly call their child “naked baby”. We’re sure his name is something spectacularly WT like Cletus or Jimmy Bob, but "naked baby" just stuck. They have a thousand cars parked around their house, and sometimes we drive by and their front door is standing wide open for hours while they let their pack of WT kids roam around unsupervised like little yard apes. But here’s the thing... we really know nothing about them. For all we know, the dad could be some genius nuclear engineer or the mom could be the heir to a huge old Southern fortune. Not likely, but the point is that we all have our white trash tendencies.

My husband and I are offenders, too. If you sat on the other side of my subdivision on a Sunday afternoon, you’d see rotten fruit flying over the back of our fence and landing in the empty lot behind our house. At first glance, you’d think “Wow, what white trash people. They’re throwing rotten fruit into the empty lot instead of just throwing it in the trash.” But in reality, my husband is “feeding the birds”. A lot of it has to do with wanting to chuck fruit as far as we can throw it, but we’re also helping to preserve the local bird population. The thing is, after watching us shot-put oranges, apples and pumpkins over our fence, you’d never know my husband is studying to become a surgeon and that I work in finance. Around Christmas time, when you look into our neighborhood and see the house with the MILLIONS of cheap-looking Christmas yard ornaments all strung up and shining so bright that it knocks out half the town's power, you might think “WOW! So white trash.” But again, it’s just us. Whether naturally ingrained in us or bestowed through our raising, we all exhibit some signs and symptoms.

My dad is a math whiz. He can literally compute things in his head like a human calculator, which is to be expected since he’s an accountant. But you’d never know he has a deep dark secret: he burns trash. My mother works at a school and used to teach autistic children and English as a second language. The woman’s a saint, but she also likes to shoot Starlings (they're demon black birds, don't feel bad for them) off of the back porch … in town.

  

A plague on the classiness of the Old South, or a natural instinct passed down through generations of Southerners? I say, look inside yourself and decide.  Perhaps you’re a garbage burner, an I-like-to-use-my-yard-as-a-parking-lot person, or even one of those people who walk into Walmart wearing pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers.

Or you have a car that looks like this.  

Whichever white trash poison you choose, accepting and embracing it may be the first step towards the full growth of your true Southern roots. What are your white trash tendencies?

Now if you’re sitting there thinking “I don’t do anything that’s even remotely white trash,” you are a dirty rotten liar … and probably not much fun.

It's the South, Y'all!