Monday, December 24, 2012

Talkin' 'bout framily

Happy holidays, bloggies! I hope Santa is good to each of you this year - from the display of (still wrapped!) gifts under my tree, he's been pretty good to me too. And yes I did follow all the rules and have not opened one gift - even though James told me I could open his, I told him no, I will wait until tomorrow when it's ACTUALLY Christmas. (Who am I? What is this? Is this a preview of patience? So foreign to me.)

I am spending tonight and tomorrow in my sweatpants with Bailey, and I'm actually pretty excited about it. Would I rather be at home in Maine with my crazy family? Of course, but it's pretty expensive to fly home for the holidays (plus having to board B breaks my heart) - and this way, I can save up a bunch of PTO time at work and take a longer vacation in the summer. Hermit Island is my Christmas, my absolute favorite time of year. I've been working 50-60 hours a week since Thanksgiving, and I am tired.

My Mama's sticky buns showed up on Saturday (yeah, we send breakfast foods via USPS. No big deal.) which means it is officially Christmas for the Foster/Traver families. Speaking of Foster family - this is the whole point of this post - I absolutely love the fact that my family extends far past just the 4 of us. Friends and boyfriends over the years have been "adopted" (as adults) into our family, and regardless of current relationship status, they kind of just... stay. Most people don't get it. If I wasn't a part of this giant heap o' crazy, I wouldn't get it either. We use the word "framily" to describe it.

For example:

Me + HS boyfriend + his wife + his former work wife (my BFF) + her boyfriend + teenage cousin Jess = Hermit Island 2012

what?

That's just how it works around here folks! And I wouldn't ask for it any other way. So when Gabby sent me pictures of these ornaments that she got for my parents, my heart was so happy. (God that is the gushiest thing I think I've ever said.)



So damn cute, AMIRITE?!

Basically the gist of this is that I love my actual-related-family and my framily, and wish I was home with them right now, but there will be a countdown soon enough for when I see them again!

hand-me-down tree, hand-me-down star. HOLLA.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------


Wall hanging. HomeGoods. $8. EIGHT. DOLLHAIRS. Bought it.


I'm not sure if I've blogged about this company before but if I have, I'm gonna do it again. A few years ago my sister found this soap company at a craft fair, and we've been obsessed ever since. Botanical Soaps makes something called Leg Shaving Soap. This stuff will change yo' life. I despise using shaving cream on my legs because then the shower water gets all over it, the shaving cream rinses away and its just a big ol' pain in the ass. This leg shaving soap leaves your legs so smooth and moisturized - I stock up like once a year and it lasts for-ev-er. I just got my annual shipment so I figured I'd tell you guys about it - she makes a bunch of other soaps and lotions (I love the peppermint foot scrub soap) and it's all really great stuff. That website doesn't list her products, but all you really need to know is that the leg shaving soap is amazing and you should order some. Yesterday.

STOCKPILE!




NC sunrise. what. the sky looks like this EVERY DAY.



Merry Christmas!

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Motivation.

I've never been a skinny girl. Ever. I've always been bigger than my friends, and I used to be pretty insecure about it (let's be real, middle schoolers are probably the meanest species on the planet) but then I got to high school and just didn't give a shit what anyone else thought. Went through a breakup, lost 30-40 pounds, and I've pretty much stayed right around that weight ever since.

Sassy outfit for work Christmas party last night.
Please pardon the orange hue of my skin in that second picture - I swear I'm not that tan.



I don't own a scale, because I don't like obsessing about a number. I know around what I weigh, but that number doesn't define me or dictate how I feel about myself, and it never has - if my clothes are fitting, and I feel good, that's all I care about. I'm a hot-ass bitch, I have fantastic friends and lots of people who love me. Now, that's not to say that some days I don't think, "yep, probably could've gone without those mojitos last night" or "not loving my arms today", but in general, I'm very confident in myself. (Side note: please refer to my post here - wearing a bra that fits you will make a TON of difference in how you feel about yourself.)

With the end of the year approaching, New Year's Resolutions are bound to be made. And we all have some variance of "get to the gym, lose x-amount of weight, get in better shape" on our resolution list. Since 2013 is going to be all about me, I am going to get my ass back in the gym. Nothing drastic, just a bit of toning here and there, but I want to know - what motivates you to get there? What motivates you to STAY there? I get bored easily, so I'm going to start taking classes again - I prefer to be told what I need to be doing, rather than trying to make shit up and act like I have any clue. I go through stages - I'll go to the gym 4 days a week for a while, and then... meh. Boredom sets in, I get busy, and I just end up convincing myself that ANYTHING is more fun than going (even laundry and grocery shopping).

I also have the Songza app on my phone, which helps as far as running motivation goes - playlists such as "Hard Rock, Hard Bod", "Vodka Escapades: Ladies Be Pre-Gaming" and "Morning with Nicki Minaj" (yes, those are all real names and they are AWESOME - you all know my love for terrible pop music).

Completely unrelated to the subject of this post, but speaking of pop music - stop whatever you are doing right now and go get yourself Taylor Swift's "Red" album. You can thank me later.

Essie's Mesmerize (blue) & Room With a View (neutral)



Sunday, December 2, 2012

Lift 'em up!

Okay ladies, I bet you think that you know your bra size. But. I can almost guarantee that you are wearing the wrong size. I thought I knew what I was, and Katrina thought I was certifiably insane for thinking I was a C. (In my defense, I used to be a D in high school, lost a bunch of weight and my boobs got way smaller.) So a few months ago I went to Target, went a little nutty and stocked up on all new C cups because that's what I've been wearing the last few years. Katrina (and Mandy, who apparently went through the same denial I did) convinced me to get sized because she went and it was life changing.

Let me tell you. LIFE. CHANGING. Life changing. Katrina and Gabby came down for a whirlwind trip this weekend, and we went to Victoria's Secret to get fitted. (Everyone should do this. It is free, and you don't have to buy their bras, you can take your size and skip on over to Target and stock up on cheapies. I splurged and got the Fabulous, obviously, and it makes my boobs look FABULOUS.) In my head I was a 36C. In reality? 36DD.

DOUBLE. D. WHAT.

Oh my. My life has been changed, and for the better. However, now my long button-up shirt that I wear with leggings (as pants) doesn't button over these gazoombas, so I am going to keep my small, saggy bras just in case this becomes a problem with the rest of my button-up shirts. Legit I feel like I got a boob job. 


So the girls came down this weekend, and Friday night we played Hair Salon and got drunk at my apartment. Lots of laughs, a little crying (good cries!), and not enough water being consumed to counteract the alcohol. Saturday we were moving a little slow, but we did some shopping at Birkdale, lunched at Brixx and then Saturday night Alexis, Missy (HAY GIRLS!) and her hubs joined us at Bad Daddy's Burger Bar for dinner. Can I just tell you how much I love my friends? My second family in Charlotte is amazing, and these Sister Wives of mine kick some serious ass. I got to thinking about it, and my Net of friends reaches all over the US, along with some chickies in Canada, and even over to Finland and Sweden. I have some seriously strong bitches in my life, and I love them. 

All I really wanted to say in this post was - go get fitted. Your girls will thank you. (And you may land a husband, since your boobs won't be down to your bellybutton anymore. I'm hoping this works for me.)