interview outfit

interview outfit


A Return and a Departure All at Once, Kinda Like a Layover.

Dear Blog readers,

I am departing from my regularly scheduled dry and incredibly witty humor for a brief moment. The comedic side show shall return as scheduled, well as scheduled as I’ve ever been.


It’s been a while. Like, a long while. Life kinda, sorta got completely away from me the past few days weeks months. Months. MONTHS! I haven’t written, journaled (btw, word refuses to let me use journal as a verb), really put thoughts into a coherent train of consciously chosen words in all that time. I mean I thought about it. I thought about it a lot, but time just got away from me. It was school assignments, then finals, then the kids were out of school and summer activities, keeping the house clean became so much harder, and then Matt was asked to resign from his job back in June because he was going to be replaced by a volunteer.


Yeah, did you know churches don’t have to participate in unemployment from the state? Also, that you can earn vacation time as compensation and never actually get to use nor does your employer have to pay it out?


So, currently Matt is working with my stepfather, building decks, and turning his business Barge Heights into a full time thing. Needless to say, things are TIGHT around the house. Which stinks when your kids want to do 1010848598427896547 things over the summer, and they should be able to, because it’s summer.


But, we are making the best of it. 50 cent movies on Wednesdays for previously run films for kids, many we haven’t seen has been a huge hit. Trips to the Animal Shelter, because it’s kind-almost like the zoo, and you can take the animals outside to play. Dollar scoop night on Tuesdays at Bakin Robins, and free doughnut day at Krispy Kreme for fun treats. Teddy was able to attend a free art camp that the public school system puts on every year. Nate went to sleep away wilderness camp for a week, that we had paid for much earlier in the year, and currently as I write this Reese and Nate are making a film and it’s sound track in Apple Camp at the Apple Store, which is totally free and amazingly cool.


Our neighbors have been extremely gracious and generous with their extra pool passes and taken our kids nearly every time they’ve visited the public pool. I’m couponing again, of course wondering why I ever stopped, and we have a freezer full of ground chicken, turkey, and beef along with way to many packages of hotdogs. Our garden is doing ok, and the chickens are giving us plenty of eggs, so we’ve had people over for dinner and a fire, and that’s the best entertainment of all.




I forgot to mention.


In the midst of all of this, my washing machine gave up on us. Like multiple failures, not worth putting money into fixing it, up and died.


And we can’t afford to replace it.


So I’m hauling as much laundry as I can to my dads and doing it. Scheduling errands around the area and when I can change loads over.


I won’t lie, it kinda sucks. I’m grateful for the ability to wash laundry, but it’s far from convenient when you have 6 people, one who is doing dirty contractor work, and a dog. I get almost caught up, and then things happen. Like the four year old climbs into bed with me in the wee hours of the morning. I think nothing of it, but that’s short lived when the soon to be 12 year old wanders in to tell me the four year old threw up. All over the couch. And down the hallway. And all over the living room floor. And basically made 3 loads of laundry for me to deal with in the span of 6 minutes.


So, it’s real here. Real pukey until I can get all the blankets washed.


On another completely unrelated note, I’m getting organized. I’m by nature an organized person. I like to make lists, color code, check and cross things off. Unfortunately, much of that fell by the wayside when I tried to go digital and do everything in my iPhone. I made a decision to switch back to pen and paper a couple weeks ago. I’m determined this is going to work. No more missing parent teacher conferences because I am relying on a piece of Asian sweat shop technology to remind me. No more forgetting to pick kids up because an alarm hasn’t gone off. No more forgetting birthdays, or not having addresses, or whatever. It’s all going to live out in my chicken scratch in my Filofax. You know, once it gets here from England. Because apparently it’s cheaper to order it from over the pond and pay international shipping than it is to order from the manufacturers US website. IT MAKES NO SENSE! But whatevs.


So I’m back. Mostly. I don’t guarantee regular updates. I do hope to not disappear for months at a time ever again though.


I know, sadsies.  But here to cheer you up I will share a youtube video that is close to my heart.


There, that totally and completely made up for everything now, didn’t it?

Family Easter celebration

It’s not only Easter, but warm enough to ditch tights and even walk outside with out 64 layers on. So while this means I have run the ol’ venus over the limbs more often, it also means I can wear dresses without worrying about static cling, runs in tights, and weather or not I have have tights to match. I mean there is thigh rub and the fear of chaffing when things get moist, but it’s warm you guy and I get to wear pretty dresses!
Believe it or not, my entire outfit cost less than $25. The dress was on clearance for just over $7 and the shoes $3.49- both from Target. I felt kinda like I was stealing. The necklace is from a site called GroopDeals (a daily deals site) and was like $8, while the bangles were from Goodwill for $4. And yet, I felt like a million bucks and got all sorts of compliments. I mean in between confiscating candy,knives, my moms dog, and telling the kids grandma did not put out any brown eggs, so don’t pick them up.

Family Easter celebration

Oh and here’s a rare picture of me in the actual outfit.

photo (7)

Happy Easter!

Bullies, Bikinis, and Maya Angelou

What the hell is wrong with people these days? I mean we all know this digital era has given us all the permission to act like rabid hyenas preying upon the carcass of a decaying elephant. Entering the ass hole of the unfortunate being and literally tearing it a new one. Oh what a visual. What? You haven’t seen that one. Oh, please watch it, and then come back to finish this. Wait, I’m too insecure that you might leave and forget to return. Let’s watch it together:

Yes my friend, is exactly what the autonomy of twitter, facebook and blogs has done to us. Except we humans have no need to do this, that poor hyena was just trying to survive. Or win a bet.

But we like to hide behind our keyboard and sling accusations, derogatory insinuations, and vicious commentary at others.

Maybe we disagree with someone’s life style, parenting choices (not the things that can cause harm, just the things that are not what we’d do), or they just piss us the heck off.

So we attack, to make ourselves feel better, to feel superior, or push them down.

Guess what?

That’s being petty.

Or by another name, it’s Bullying.

Or lets take it a step further and call it what it really is, VERBAL FUCKING ABUSE.

I’m not talking about politely disagreeing, we all need to be disagreed with, I wouldn’t ever want everyone to agree with me all the time, I’m not sure anyone would. But that looks a little more like “Hey Melissa, you know that um, ugly cute, shrunken from too much washing little, out of shape from too much washing baggy, faded from way too much washing lightly striped top that you wear way too much sometimes? It’s not the best shirt on you, I mean totally cool for slumming on the couch, but it just hides your cute hour-glass shape and you should totally rock that body out with something more figure flattering.”

Not, “Hey Fat Bitch, that shirt is FUGLY! It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, but I guess in your case that’s good because no one can tell how fat or thin you might be when you wear it and it totally distracts from that giant herpes sore on your face. Oh that’s a zit you say? Sure yeah, your fat so you must have face herpes. Oh and no one likes you, you should just die. KK, just helping you out!”

How often do we see that last type of comment though? I see it on youtube video comments, in responses to twitter comments, I used to see it on facebook before I unplugged from there. I see it on blogs all the time.

So why am I so riled up right now?

Because just last week a really awesome woman with the mission to change the face of beauty in this country and give women back self confidence no matter their size, posted photos of herself in her bikini. She’s a plus sized woman who is proud of her curves. She’s not unhealthy and she not promoting people gain/loose weight to be just like her. She’s just putting herself out there to show that there is beauty outside what the media presents us with.

And guess how she was repaid. Oh there were those of us who look up to Brittney Gibbons’ bravery and are inspired by her openness and willingness to take the bullet for the rest of us non-model body types. But then there was this:

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And I’m sure there were more on her moderated blog that were never posted,  Huffington Post and I didn’t try to check on Facebook or all the other media that has picked up her story.

Why does our culture think this is ok? Bullying at any age is just what it is. We fight for our kids to not have to face this and guess where they learn it? From ADULTS who still engage in the behavior!

Tomorrow Brittney Gibbons will appear on Good Morning America in the 8:00am -9:00am block to talk about the media storm surrounding her posting her beautiful plus sized self in bikini’s. I know it is because she has been so out there about body image and changing it, that she has such an amazing opportunity. I have, like, all my body parts crossed that her story will get a fair shake, her words won’t be twisted, and maybe, just maybe the haters with keyboards will keep their mouths shut, so that girls of all sizes can rise up, put on their bikini’s and feel beautiful.

Because look at me. In the eyes. Lean in closely. You. Are. Beautiful. I hope you hear that often, but if not, know that I have said it and you must now say it to yourself every time you look in the mirror. You are who you are, and it’s a lot more than looks. And when it is about looks, beauty comes in all shapes, and size, skin tones. But that better than thou are look (even if it’s figurative through a keyboard) of the person who tires to make you feel less than, that’s never going to be attractive. Plus, you are always more beautiful when you believe you are. Don’t be a bully to yourself, we have to fight enough against the feelings the words of others who choose to be bully well up inside us. Instead be someone who knows your phenomenal, and tell yourself you are.

I leave you with the wise words of an incredible woman, Maya Angelou:

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Where in I confess to…….

Nate: Hey mom, remember that Africa project where I have to make food that I told you about? Can you do that tonight, it’s due tomorrow?

Uh, YOUR project that YOU were supposed to look up a recipe for, and are supposed to make it yourself?

Nate: Yeah, that one.

The same one that you would never tell me the due date of?

Nate: Well, I didn’t know, and then um, I think she changed the date on it.

Yeah, I’m not doing your project for you, but you can look up a recipe that we have all the ingredients for and I’ll help you make it.


20 minutes later from the top of the stairs………………………………………..

Nate: Mom, do we have enough flour to fill 35 cups and also 23 cups of sugar?


I have no idea what recipe he was looking at, but I sure hope it fed like the entire country of Paraguay.


I found a recipe that only required 5 ingredients and some water for something called “Milk Tart.” It’s apparently a popular dessert in South Africa; not incredibly appetizing sounding to me, but it did contain sweetened condensed milk. Which meant I’d be able to lick the excess off spoons, lids and the can. How much I’ll enjoy the finished product or at least one of it’s ingredients I would other wise feel kinda like a glutton eating, It’s how I make my decisions regarding baking/cooking for my kids’ classes.

Like I’m not sure who else besides me would consider eating out of a can of sweetened condensed milk, and it makes me kinda afraid Jillian Michaels might break down my door and force me to pull her down my street like a sled dog. I don’t look good in a harness. But if I just scrape the insides of the can that’s totally not gluttonous. Neither is licking the lid of the can, even though I might have, probably did, cut my tongue on the razor sharp edges.

All I can hear every time I do that is my mom freaking out about “NEVER TOUCH THE CAN LID IT CAN CUT YOU!” I really thought she was completely over reacting, but after cutting my tongue 23 a few times, it is indeed razor sharp and there’s a good chance you could cut your tongue off with it before you know it.

I know what your thinking.

Yes, I lick the lids of cans, so what?

Please don’t tell my mom, or Jillian Michaels.

The dish was a hit and Nate received an A.

It’s nice to get feed back about my baking and cooking.

nearly spring {outfit share}

I’ve neglected you. I’ve broken my promise to write with abandonment during my “spring break.” Although in my defense you can’t really call the 3 hours I ended up not having to answer to anyone the entire week I had sorta, kinda, off of school a spring break. I should have known things wouldn’t go as planned, and that writing would be pushed to the way side for other more vital tasks,like doctors appointments, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, school pick up, you know stupid stuff that the people I live with make me do. Those mini tyrants.

I’m back at school work, although one of my classes has spring break this week, and I worked like a mad woman yesterday so I have about 8 minutes to spare today. I decided it was time for an outfit share,especially with this schizophrenic (I almost spelled that without auto correct!) Kentucky weather we have had lately. I mean, daylight saving screws me up, but apparently it screwed mother nature up on a whole ‘nother level this year. 69 degrees one day and 28 and SNOW the next? Yeah, that’s a manic weather swing. BUT it’s the first day of spring today, so theres hope the weather will act like spring soon, right?

At least I get to try out my new J Crew wool mini. It’s warm and a pleasantly brighter green than the picture shows, perfect for dressing up with heals, or more casual with boots. I wore my shirt tucked, but it looks awesome with the shirt untucked, would look superb with a blazer, sweater, cardigan or even a nice fitted tee, and AND! it’s on final sale for $30,  and (yes again) there’s a 25% off code (LOVEJCREW). I’m thinking of ordering the navy and the pink too, I love this skirt that much. They are final sale, which means no returns, so it’s best to have a good idea of your size at J Crew. I ended up ordering a 12 because that’s what I have to wear in their dresses because of my boobs, and it’s a smidge big, but totally wearable on my figure  (whoo hoo plus for the hour glass!) with the shape of the skirt. I normally wear an 8 (occasionally a 6) at Old Navy in bottoms, unless it’s one pants that they can’t figure out how to size the same as all their other pants and I might wear up to a 12 (hello color pop jeans?) Anyway, I hope that helps if your considering this skirt, and you really should consider this skirt.

BTW, the necklace is as close to the one I’m wearing as I could clip to polyvore as possible. Mine’s also vintage, and there are tons like it on etsy under the term “silver puff heart necklace” in the $25 range (I bought my local for $25). Polyvore and Etsy just don’t play nice together.

AND don’t forget, if you have a polyvore connect with me there, I’d love to see what everyone’s wearing for this crazy “spring” weather we are having.

nearly spring

Identity Disaster

I have this weird inability to obtain a normal I.D. picture. It’s like all the atoms and molecules that make up my being get all confused at the flash of light omitted by the DMV (or where ever I may be) camera and things, unnatural things, or just down right weird phenomena happen.

I actually don’t remember what my permit or drivers licenses picture issues were, but I do remember my first college I.D.


I looked all cute and dewy and fresh at 17. I completely and totally expected a great picture. Instead I got an I.D. that looked like it belonged to an Asian individual. Oddly yellowish toned skin, eyes that were crescent slits, my dark brown hair appeared black, and since this was pre-kids, I was pretty tiny. But I’m still not even a hint Asian, so this forgiener on my I.D. card was disturbing. Every time I had to show it, everyone had to do a double take and I always got the same line,

“Haha, you look so Chinese here!”

I mean what do you say to that?

It’s the high check bones, and I’d prefer Pacific Islander, thanks.

We move to Nashville and I got a new drivers license.

I had been cleaning the house and our insurance agent called to tell us we needed a Tennessee State license in order to keep our insurance. I think he bull shitting us, but we rushed out the door to get new ones.

We waited 2 hours with 2 kids (back before we had a herd of kids).

I looked at my license and about died. I had basically no make up on, my hair was disheveled, and since I was wearing a tube top, I appeared to be naked.

I was like someone had stolen Nick Nolte’s booking photos, except topless, and put them on a valid drivers license.


I hated showing it. I did get out of a speeding ticket, wherein I also had a broken tail light and did not have proof of insurance.

The cop thought the picture was hot. Uh, ewwww?

When we moved back to Kentucky, I went and got a new license. I was determined to obtain one with a presentable picture. In order to do so I had to relinquish the naked Tennessee license.

I shamefully handed it over, and then the entire office was called over to see it. It was on display for a bit at the local divers licensing location I went to.

I also got a new picture.

The office is in a strip mall, and the whole area the public has access in the actual office is just a long corridor directly in from the door. Every time the door is opened a gust of wind blows through. It happened to be a very blustery day.

Some guy came it right as the DMV photographer was hitting 2 in her count down, blowing my hair all around, and as she hit 3, the flash went off and the picture was done. I looked like I’d hadn’t brushed my hair, and my eyes were watery. Drunk Nick Nolte photo #2. However I did appear to have clothes on, so some improvement. Kinda Snookie esk.


I went back to school a few semesters ago and had to get a new student I.D. They wouldn’t let me use my old picture, even though I asked, because honestly who wouldn’t want to look like a glowy, skinny, 17 year old Asian given the choice.

Instead they made me take a new picture, sitting down. The girl also snapped it while I was answering some questions and looking at her. And my double chin made an appearance. My hair was mostly contained in a bun, but the side wisps are a little crazy.


So, I pretty looked like a chubby, confused, 2 sheets to the wind, version of that cute Asian girl. Like if Nick Nolte and Rosanne Barber had a kid. Although I bet that kid could be kinda awesome and super fun, albeit totally screw up.

This year my license expired back in January. I straightened my hair, I did my makeup, I wore clothes that came up to my neck, I was not going to have another Nick Nolte picture.

I handed over the old licence, listened as they listed off all my information, even was honest and corrected my weight (no, I’m not 123 pounds any more) in order to appease the picture Gods.

Everything aligned nothing went wrong, I was prepared for the flash, the door stayed closed, my hair stayed smoothed, I did the weird – chin out and up, forehead pushed forward- make your face skinny or at least double chin free– perfectly and managed a decent smile. I waited in anticipation for the drivers’ licenses picture of perfection.


So I pretty much look like one of those police sketch artist photos or anthropologist reconstruction wearing a wig. Damn it.

I’m not so sure the disheveled, naked license was so bad at this point.