I failed and it was all my fault.

Thursday, 28 February 2013

Like many posts that I write that begin with a disclaimer, I should probably just go ahead and trash this now... but alas, the stubborn Polish-German girl inside of me is just going to keep going and hope I have a few friends once I'm done.

I've made it no secret that I was once engaged, you can read about it here if you need to get caught up to speed on that one. And I'm pretty sure someone has been waiting for more on that story because "i wore yoga pants engaged" seems to be a popular search term here, as of late. If you're confused don't worry, I am too. Anyways, long story short, I am no longer engaged or in a relationship with that person and I was the one to end the engagement.

So if you've already posted about this, why are you posting about this again, broken record girl Whitney? Well, lifestyle blogging is really cool in that I get to read and pick other people's brains all of the time. So much so that at times I feel so in tune with someone else's story that I feel like I'm actually living it. This topic, in particular, is one that I have felt a lot around here lately and I just figured it was time to weigh in my two cents about it. As always, this is just my personal opinion and does not, by any means, mean it is relevant to your personal situation.

Forcing the engagement.

Who is already ready to throat jab me into tomorrow? I promise, it's totally awesome to disagree with me, I won't be upset about it. Hell, I commonly disagree with a lot of the posts married women write about how us single ladies haven't even started our lives yet. It's cool... to each their own, right? Right.

Ok, so enough beating around the bush. Let's do this thing.

Here is why I plead and beg for all of you ladies dying to get engaged to just relax and wait it out. Here is my story about how I let my insane (like, Leann Rimes insane) obsession with getting a ring turn my life in to complete shambles.

Like I said in my other post, we dated for about 4 years on and off. I was consumed with the idea of growing up, getting married, getting the house, the kids, the whole shebang. I was an actual crazy person and looking back now I don't even know who that person was that I was being. It seemed like everyone around me was on their way to this life I had created in my head and I was on the other end forcing everything, trying to create the life, no matter what the other party involved thought of it. Some call that control freak, looking back now, I just call it nuts. Completely nuts. My head was all in the wrong place, to say the very, very (veryvery) least.

I went as far as joining an "in waiting" forum on a wedding website where I communicated with other ladies who were doing the same thing I was doing... waiting. Watching everyone else get the golden ticket to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory while we were just stuck in Charlie Bucket's run down house, also known as the "in waiting" chat forum. Sharing this little tidbit with the interwebz is not my finest moment but if I'm going to make a post like this, I've got to lay it all on the table here.

It took me about 2 days after he bought the ring for me to find it, because apparently I am a basset hound to diamond hunting. From there on out, I lost every last bit of sense I had left inside of me - which, if we're being honest here, wasn't very much. I would come home from work every day and wear the ring around the house until I knew he would be home soon, then I'd shove it back in the velvet ring box and back in the drawer it was "hidden" in. I was obsessed and what I was doing was not even a little bit ok. I know this now, obviously.

With the ring, unfortunately not the guy.

And it was a beautiful ring, I know because I hand picked the setting and insisted it was the one.

From there on out all he had to do was hold my hand a different way and I was convinced it was going to happen right then and there.. but obviously it didn't. From my other story, we know that I "found" it one day and that's how the "proposal" went down. Really cool. Really insane.  

So, I got my way. Everything I was waiting for, I finally got. I could proudly sport my sparkly ring around in public and go buy wedding magazines galore. I went and tried on dresses, I visited with countless venues, met with caterers. All of it. Three months later, what seemed like 1 million congratulatory messages, and one engagement party down, the excitement wore off and I woke up. 

I woke up hard. And then it all crumbled in front of me. All of the family members who had attended the engagement party and adorned us with so many expensive and thoughtful gifts, they'd all see my failed engagement. My mom, who had been so excited about planning her only daughter's wedding, she'd see my failed engagement. My best friends who agreed to stand next to me on my big day, they'd all see my failed engagement. I failed and it was all my fault. 

Kathy Lee says it best when she says "everyone has a story", so I know that so many of you other ladies in waiting, who are probably rolling your eyes at me today, will have completely different stories that will lead to an amazing and happy marriage with the love of your life. But just remember that it isn't always what it seems. It isn't always the right time. If it is the true love of your life, time is no measure and it's ok to wait it out a little bit. Don't let the facade of the glitz and the attention take over what's most important, like I did.

In the end "Que Sera, Sera", or "Whatever will be, will be".

I can whole heartedly say that it was the craziest learning experience I have ever witnessed and I'm in a hell of a lot better place in my life now. I'm stronger, I'm happier, I'm way more independent, and most of all, I'm so content with being a non-married twenty-something woman. (Also a shit ton more level headed... but that really wasn't too hard to come by.) I only wish I could have read about someone else's crazy story like this 3ish years ago so I could have avoided the whole fiasco. Just kidding, like I'm really capable from learning from other people's mistakes. 

Oh, and if you feel like chasing me away with a stick because you don't want my bat shit crazies to rub off on you, I understand. I like to think they're gone now though. I think it was the ring's fault, which was give back a long time ago.

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Trying Too Hard

Tuesday, 26 February 2013

Trying too hard.

Those are three words that never fail to leave me confused. What does that even mean anyways? All through life, as far as I can remember, people always seemed to throw that little phrase around like it was the ultimate dis and I just don't understand it. Why is trying hard a negative thing?

In school when I tried really hard I found success and made better grades. 

When I graduated I tried really hard to find a job and I found one.

At work when I try really hard I make more money.

In relationships when I try really hard they last longer.

In friendships when I try really hard I'm a better friend.

My question remains, why is this usually meant to be such a negative thing? I'll be the first to admit that I do try hard. Not only just on my blog but in all of the things I just mentioned and probably many more that I can't think of right now. I have a really hard time finding the bad in this though, personally, and I think that when you stop trying that's when things go bad. Shouldn't the negative feelings be for those who aren't trying their hardest?

I mean, I get it, pushy salesmen can be pretty overbearing but that's just how they make their living. That's just who they are. At least they're doing something because something has got to be a hell of a lot better than nothing, right? 

Right now in my life there are a few things I'd really like to change but I know that if I don't try my damnest to make them happen I won't get that change. Because I can remember when I used to try harder to fit in at school than I did at trying to succeed in my dancing and that showed at nationals when I only scored a silver medal on my solo. I want my ultimate gold medal in life now, not the silver, and, just like that last year of dance, if I don't try I'm only mediocre. I'm only a silver medal.

As always, when I spill my guts here, I have no idea where I'm really going with this. Only that I'm about to start trying really, really damn hard to make some changes in my life and I can only hope that's not a negative thing. I'm finally ready for my ultimate gold medal.

And I'm not talking about dance or going to compete against high schoolers at nationals this summer. Just to clear that up.

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What Blogging Means to Me

Friday, 18 January 2013

Completely unrelated photo to this post but I know you little bunnies prefer some type of visual so you get my face. Sorry.

A couple of days ago I was having a conversation with a fellow blogger, Chelsea, about this blogging thing and how seriously mind blowing it is that it's capable of giving us so many opportunities. Opportunities we never even knew existed prior to starting our respective blogs.

It's funny to me, I used to get badgered and made fun of for being always having my head stuck in the computer as a kid. I was always more worried about writing in my LiveJournal or chatting on AIM than I was with actually going out and socializing. Writing and connecting with others through my writing is what made me happy.

Yes, I realize that makes me a total loser. It happens.

Fortunately, or maybe very unfortunately to some, I still feel pretty similar. Except now there is no LiveJournal or AIM, now there is Blogger and texting or Gchatting. 

Kind of comical that some of the same concepts still make me tick. I'm still that loser.

To say a lot of people don't understand blogging would be a vast understatement. More times than not, sometimes when I actually decide to "out myself" to a friend or family member they just look at me like I'm a total freak. Which, if we're being honest, could actually be pretty close to the truth. That's besides the point though, they just don't get it.

With all of that said, I want to touch on what blogging means to me.

First and most importantly, blogging is an outlet; 

An outlet to be my off the wall, ridiculous, and maybe a little crazy, self without having to look others in the face and seeing the strange looks that usually follow. I'm well aware that there are people on the other end of my posts who make faces but hey, at least I don't have to see them face-to-face, right?

Blogging makes me feel happy; 

Really though, it does. Being able to connect with so many ladies who experience similar situations, or are just understanding to the person that I am in general, is really empowering. There have been many, many days in the last 9 months where the only people I've truly had to turn to have been people I've met through this blog. 

And that really is crazy but also really, really amazing.

Blogging makes me feel accepted;

I know this one sounds extraordinarily arrogant but I assure that is far from what I'm trying to portray. Like I said, I was never really accepted growing up. Aside from growing close to a few great friends, I never really succeeded in anything in school, dance, or anything else I put my effort in to. Having this blog and getting so many amazing comments from all of those pretty faces to the right, all while still having my voice, makes me feel finally accepted as the person that I am.

In all honesty, I love being a part of this community. Through the ups and the downs, it's pretty damn awesome.

Blogging makes me more aware;

When you choose to blog 4-5 days a week you have to really get creative and learn to stretch out your day-to-day experiences. For me, I am so much more aware of what's going on because I have to be. If I check out, much like I used to, what would I write about? I can only tell the stories of my good ol' stripper days for so long.

Kidding.

Blogging means expressing myself;

c/o Brooke

I honestly have no idea where else I'd be able to talk about the nonsense that I do and actually get away with it. Having this little space is about as liberating as it was the day I got the keys to my 1 bedroom apartment. If you're new here that was, in fact, one of the most liberating days of my 25 years on this planet. The best part? There are actually other bloggers that even make my self expressions feel normal and that just might be the coolest part of it all.

Free stuffs, DUH;

Partially kidding on this one, guys. 

Obviously it's really badass to get contacted to review a product you actually enjoy but I truly do love reading product reviews from other bloggers. I'd bargain to say that 80% of my current makeup collection was purchased because of blogger review posts I've read. Who knows why I trust you little bunnies so much, but I do and so far I haven't been let down.

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Today is a soapbox day.

Friday, 4 January 2013

Well, hey friends. Today, today is a soapbox day for this girl. I know I don't do this often but today I just need to get some things off of my chest.

As some of you may know I frequent the twitter machine like it's my actual job. No really, it's like someone is paying me a large fortune to browse the hell out of my Twitter feed. I admittedly spend far too much time on there and one day I will, most likely, need an intervention.

The thing about Twitter is that it's a really easy outlet for vague remarks and such. Only problem is that usually said vague remarks are made after someone else mentions something and so really, it's not all that vague. At that point it's just an indirect response which is actually pretty unnecessary.

With that said, I just wanted to touch on blogging a little bit here today.

Obviously not the actual act of blogging but maybe just a little insight to how much actually goes in to being a blogger. I know I try to make this thing out to seem like it's just a joke and I usually don't get too serious around these parts but I have a little secret to tell you all. I try. I try really hard. I put a lot of energy in to this thing and work every day to keep up with it. I know, it's hard to believe but I'm being serious for once, says the girl with the drunken vlog. Really though, serious face. 

Not to say I am the only one, because that is farrrrr from the truth, but this hobby really is time consuming and it takes a lot of passion to keep up with it. I may not be one to schedule posts but I am constantly thinking about this blog and topics to post about. As lame as it sounds, there are mornings that I actually stress about what to post here. I do it because I've quickly grown passionate for blogging and I feel really fortunate that I have come this far. I can only hope that I can continue to grow not only as a blogger but as a person too!

With that said, it's killing me to see these vague remarks about how it's all just a popularity contest, etc., etc. Personally, this is slightly offensive, in my opinion, because I feel I work my ass off on this thing. This thing isn't about being popular or in a group - I'm a lifestyle blogger, this is about my ridiculous stories and fits of binge drinking (kidding... a little). Really though, I had absolutely no idea I was going to grow to be so passionate for this thing when I started it up randomly but I did and now I kind of love being a blogger. So yes, it is offensive to me personally when I hear that some people just think this is a contest to be cool. I can promise you I feel far from cool from this, which can be proven by the lack of people in my "real life" who know nothing about this blog. 

With that said, am I seriously grateful for the friendships I've made along the way? Absofreakinglutely. I think just about all of us have connected with other bloggers along the way, it's just one of the great things that comes along with blogging. Do I think it's holy-shit-bad-ass that so many of you read my posts, comment and interact with me 5+ days a week? Hell yes I do, who wouldn't? It's amazing and I'm forever grateful for the crazy, awesome whirlwind this blog has been for me.

What I guess I'm trying to get at today is that this blog has become a part of me, as I believe many other bloggers can agree theirs have too. It's a hobby I love to be passionate about and something I really enjoy putting my energy in to. 

< end serious face > Woof. I feel like I'm naked in public.

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Not overwhelmed, not underwhelmed, not even just whelmed.

Wednesday, 28 November 2012

Today is going to be one of those days I take a break from my typical light-hearted jib jab.

Why? Because there's a real life person that lives under my sarcastic skin, I promise.

A vulnerable and sensitive post.

Oh boy, here she is...

Anxiety. I've got it.

I've got the kind the doctor considers to be moderate to severe.

Moderate on my good days - severe on my worst.

I've got the kind of anxiety that proves to be an every day battle.

Anxiety is a massive bastard. Somedays he even introduces me to his colleague, depression.

It's a battle I didn't even know I faced until I turned 22.

22 is when I realized that getting cut off while driving is not means for a total meltdown on the side of a local highway. 

22 is when I realized that laying in bed at night, mind racing back and forth, panicking about an email box full of mail just wasn't normal. 

22 is when I realized that constantly thinking my house was going to be burglarized while I was sleeping wasn't normal.

22 is when I went and got help. 

Help meaning drugs, if we're being honest.

One drug by the name of Lexapro.

At 22 I began a numbing, empty relationship with a med named Lexapro that lasted for two years.

If you aren't a math buff, as I am certainly not, I'm 25 now and no longer in said relationship.

Why? Well, simply put... "I'd rather be crazy than numb." -My Ty Ty BFF

I am not saying the drugs are bad, because they aren't at all, they simply didn't adjust to my body.

For me the meds took the life out of me. I was empty.

Not sad. Not happy. Not overwhelmed, not underwhelmed, not even just whelmed.

Sure, the insomnia was cured. The panic attacks? They vanished. 

I had absolutely no interest in feeling anything.

I wasn't worried about anything. Ever.

Two years of numbness later.. I went off the meds.

Today? Today I have anxiety attacks regularly.

Anxiety attacks stemming from forgetting my lunch at home all the way to not having my rent check turned in at least 5 days prior to the first when it's due.
I still think there's always someone behind me waiting to attack, I still lay in bed stressing about my Brita pitcher that I forgot to refill.
I still carry around my pepper spray like it's a bomb that will inevitably save me from anything.

Yep, mostly I panic about things I know are silly.

Most nights, even with the help of melatonin, I wake up somewhere around 3am worrying about something. Anything. Could be something as simple as bringing something to the post office the next day.

It's a burden, it's an absolute thorn in my life's side, but at least I am feeling.

My relationship with anxiety is an absolute mind over matter thing.

I try meditating when I can't sleep.

I try taking very deep breaths when I feel overwhelmed. 

I try not letting little things effect how I behave.

I try reminding myself that anything good that can happen will happen.

Somedays are great, somedays are not.

Such is the life of the anxiety sufferer.

At this point in life, I'm happy to be able to feel these struggles.

One day? Well, one day I may be fed up with this anxiety and go back on the numbness train.

Today, I try my hardest to be as whelmed (also see: normal) as humanly possibly.

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Things could be worse, I could be LiLo.

Monday, 15 October 2012

Anyone else have a bad day or bad time and feel like you're completely alone?

I've been dealing with some stuff lately and it's hard to keep my head on right and think with a clear brain.

I don't want to neglect my blog, but I'm not one to air out my dirty laundry on public forums so don't expect to read that here. However, I do want to list a few things I do to keep my mind off of life kicking me down today.

Surround yourself with friends.

(Hi Kate-loverface)

I've found that when life isn't going to way you would like it to, the best thing to do is to constantly surround yourself with people who keep your spirits lifted high. 

You know, the ones that will join you in a step dance performance with a fraternity in the middle of a tailgate.

Drink fancy drinks, like champagne.

(Stole this piccy from my new love, Willa Ford... I mean Steph)

It doesn't matter how you drink said beverage, just drink it and drink lots of it.

Stay far, FAR away from the evil site known as Facebook.

Reading about how amazing everyone else's life is going will only make you feel worse.

And possible want to poke them in the eyeball with a fork.

Just kidding about the fork thing. Kind of.

If you do, however, stumble upon those people who air out all of their dirty laundry on the 'Book, go get some popcorn. That shit is almost as entertaining as Honey Boo Boo. 

Twitter's good though. Some of you bishes make me smile.

When in doubt, dance out.

Dancing makes everything a little better. 

And get really excited because my long lost best friend, who always dances with me but lives in Germany is coming to visit next month.

Dream about decorating your (hopeful) new apartment.

Source: smallshopstudio.com via Andrea on Pinterest

So many ideas... So many opportunities. Who doesn't love a good reason to spend countless hours on Pinterest?

Remember that things can always be worse.

I could still be in my awkward high school phase. 

That was really horrible. Who let me out of the house looking like a baby hoe, anyways?

Oh, and be thankful you never ended up like this girl...

[source]

This would certainly be worse than anything I'm going through.

I'm glad my baby hoe-ness ended before I turned into LiLo.

Ice cream and chick flicks.

[source]

When all else fails, curl up into a cozy blanket with Snickers ice cream and a good chick flick.

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I'm not perfect, neither are you.

Wednesday, 3 October 2012

Hey party peoples. How's it going? Good? Good.

Today is going to be one of those days.

You know, one of those days that I go off on a tangent about something that has struck my last nerve. Who's ready to ramble? This girl. Lezdoit.

So, guess what?

Source: someecards.com via Katie on Pinterest

I'm not perfect. I know, such a shocker, right? *insert hair flip here*
And guess what? Neither are you. There, I said it.
If you think you are perfect, you are full of it. (oh damn, who's already pissed at me?)

Sometimes elements of my life suck. Moments of this week, in particular, have been plain sucky. During the course of these particularly sucky times I have seen some people (yes, vague. Sorry, kiddos) do some things that are actually so obnoxious it pains me.
So, obviously instead of taking of bottle of wine to the face and bitching to a girlfriend, I'm coming here to spew some word vomit all over my blog's face.
Wait, who am I kidding? I totally did the first part, too. Whatevs.

Source: weheartit.com via Delahnie on Pinterest

Now, I'm not saying I am a fan of those of you who use Facebook as your virtual tissue but, for the love of the new iPhone 5, please stop cramming how PERFECT your life is down people's throats.

There is a difference between being genuinely happy and thinking you are perfect.
The latter being the purpose of this post.

If you are the one who is constantly tweeting, facebooking, blogging, twitting or whatever the hell other social media outlet you prefer, about how AMAZING and FLAWLESS your life is - I'm pointing my boney, imperfect finger straight at you.
I also call bullshit.

If you feel the need to constantly push people to believe you are living in Pleasantville, I believe there's a real good chance you are covering up something. Like an emotional dead body.
Or something. (wait, what?)

"Your continuous tweets about the awesomeness that is your life lead me to suspect it's exaggeration."

...but seriously. I need this whole I shit rainbows facade to flush itself already.
We all have our probz and we all have our weeks days.

My girl Hannah Montana knows it...


Look at this tall drink of perfection.

Source: peoplestylewatch.com via Anna on Pinterest

Not so perfect after all.
So homegirl likes to snuggle with her sexpot body guard, and what?


I'm not saying the occasional I love life/boyfriend/mom/Honey Boo Boo, tweet and/or post is obnoxious. Because that's not what I'm ranting over today - so don't get your sensitive panties in a twist.
I love a good sprinkle of happiness from my girls to adorn my feeds from time to time and I give a big "you go, Glen Coco" to those updates.
Everything in moderation, I say.


Basically, the bottom line I'm getting to here is that the whole I'm so perfectly perfectness of perfect has gotten under my skin and I'm pleading with the feed flooders to cut it out. Go be happy, I'm happy for you. I appreciate your optimism - but if you continue to shove your perfectness down my throat I'm going to go ahead and call you a liar liar pants on fire in my head.
And make vague tweets about you. Just kidding... kind of.

Who hates me and is going to go leave an anonymous comment and unfollow me now?
My apologies for not being perfect.

Source: via Sarah on Pinterest

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Why I Blog.

Wednesday, 19 September 2012

Good morning, lovers. Today is going to be one of those days where I take a second away from my normal, sarcastic persona and go on a slight rant. It's needed (for me, at least) and necessary after yesterday, when I was introduced to a side of this world I'm really not fond of. Not fond is putting it lightly... It was like finding out Santa isn't real, or something. The blogging world? Yeah, that shit can get really nasty, come to find out.

Now that I've removed myself and slept on what happened, I want to write about why I blog and how I got here. 

You see, to an outsider this blog world looks confusing (and a little bit of a joke, if you are my boyfriend). Where do you start? How to do you get started? What do you write about? etc. etc. The questions go on. There are so many different classifications of blogs out there, it can seem overwhelming. To me, that was what intrigued me. All of these people with something to say about so many things. I thought it was cool, I still do, actually.

Blogging gives everyone the ability to write about how they personally see things.

If you're anything like I was when I was starting out, you find a handful of your favorite bloggers and know that you want to build your blog to be like theirs. For me, this blogger was PinkLouLou. After I found her blog I just knew that if I had to be filed in some type of category of blogger, I wanted to be a part of this "lifestyle" blogging because PLL wrote about everything and anything she wanted - all things that appealed to me. 

Hair, makeup, going out, friends, love, heartbreak, happiness, sadness, celebrities. The list goes on.

You know what was really great about PLL and the other ladies I found with similar blogging styles? They said whatever they wanted to say, however they wanted to say it. Some were completely unfiltered and raw (looking at you, Ravey baby) and it sparked my interest in this thing even more. This world seemed to have no rules - I really liked that. 

So, I started a blog. A lifestyle blog to house my thoughts, feelings, rambles and nonsense. A space with no rules aside from the ones that I create for my self, personally. I write, I network, I link-up, I meet new people, I write a little bit more and I work my butt off to make this a place I want to be. It's a place for me to do as I please and for me to write about what I want to write about. I can actually justify being selfish here because it's mine and only mine.

There are no rules in blogging.

If only it was that easy.

You have to have pretty thick skin to stay afloat around these parts, as I came to find out yesterday. People will try and tear you down at any given moment and you have to constantly remember why you're here and what inspires you to continue writing each day. I continue to gain confidence from seeing the world through so many different ladies' eyes, who are so amazing to write such real and raw emotion. I am consistently inspired by the courage some of the ladies in this blogging world have, to put so much out there for so many of us to see - and relate to.

This world of blogging does not need to be a world full of bullies and it's ok to be a fan of people in this world, regardless of how large or little their "follower count" is. At the end of the day what is all of this really about? It's not about follower count or what clique you are, or aren't, a part of. It's about writing - because that's what blogging is. Write what makes you happy and support your peers who are writing about what makes them happy.

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