Hello, Gorgeous.


Okay fine, I’ll accept that I’m not Fanny Brice (but a girl can dream, right? Rachel Berry does it…)

Or Ariel for that matter… What the heck, I’m blonde…

Anyway, it’s been a while. And by while I mean more than two months because apparently when a gal gets married these days, blogging no longer matters.


Just a little update:

  • I have a husband! HUSBAND. I mean he’s heading to our next base in 9 days, but who’s counting? (hint: me)
  • I’m working hard to get my fitness and nutrition in check (and by hard, I mean with the occasional cookie).
  • I finally quit smoking.
  • My husband (still can’t get over that word) and I replaced our Camel Menthol Silvers with these babies

PS, iTaste did not endorse me to say this, but, THESE ARE THE GREATEST INVENTION EVER. If your idea of an E-Cig is the crappy gas station ones that die after three days, I’m here to change your mind. There are endless flavor choices and you can gradually lower your nicotine intake. But hell, if I’m not smoking chemicals, I’m totally okay with being addicted to nicotine for the rest of my life. TheVaporChef has flavors like Nutella, Butter Beer and ‘Unicorn Poop’. I have only one word for these things — AMAZEBALLS.

You’ve probably read that my beautiful co-writer, Lyss, and her husband are expected a little peanut this Fall. I’m beyond excited for them! But we also found out we won’t be together when school is over, so that’s a bummer.

I’ll keep this short and sweet. I’m going to start blogging regularly again because my hobby habits are at an all time low. What’s a girl to do when she only has a week left with her new Hubby and will be apart for the first time since tying the knot?

Aside from that, life is good. I’m happy, healthy and excited for the new chapter in my life– and can’t wait to take you all with me.

Until next time, Gorgeous.


Why Being the Party Girl in College Isn’t All It’s Cracked Up To Be

So a lot of girls have that wild child period in college where they get a little crazy and sleep with a bunch of bros who they probably under normal circumstances wouldn’t even give the courtesy of an up-down. You probably also can’t remember most of your time there because it was all spent in a drunken stupor. If you have been there, you’re like me, and you probably have a list of regrets longer than your professional resume. Don’t fret. What’s done is done and you can’t take it back. No use crying over spilled milk or some shit. Whatever. If you have managed to be spared from this shame train thus far, (maybe you haven’t been to college yet or maybe your sex pot self hasn’t appeared yet), here’s why you should stay your sweet little innocent self and I dunno, maybe like… Study or something.

That frat boy who looked good after half a bottle of jäger isn’t so pretty the morning after.

So your friends a bro of Phi Kapp, yeah I’m already judging you (but not too hard because I went to a Phi Kapp party once), and he’s dragging you out to a super cool party that even has friggin’ tickets! So legit. We’ll guess what, even though he says he’s your ride home later, you shouldn’t trust him and drink jäger from the bottle. Because guess what? He’s absolutely leaving your sloppy ass there. And then when you think your dancing like you’re Ke$ha or some shit (sorry, but you’re Courtney Love), the kid who was behind the bar before is suddenly all up on your scantily clad behind. And since you’re 21 and crazy, you let him. Well you know where things are going from there, and trust me, if you were a tad bit more sober, you would wise up and get the hell out of there. Because when you wake up on the couch the next morning, and he’s ugly as sin, and you have the foggiest memory of what went down, you will wish you had run.

Not remembering 50% of the nights you went into massive amounts of debt for.

Everyone has that blackout friend, who no matter how little they drank the night before, seems to recall about 25% of the shenanigans that took place. That friend is me. With a staggering $75,000 of student loan debt, you might want to look back on your college days as fond memories. Hahahahaha, nope! You probably spent most of them passed the hell out while your friends drew various penises on your face.

Being afraid of any real emotional commitment.

That hook-up mentality takes a long ass time to go away. For months, maybe years, every guy you meet will probably strike you as every college guy did- looking to get in your pants and nothing more. Maybe you’ll find a guy who actually wants to date you, or hell, even marry you, because you know, you’re getting up there in age and your biological clock is ticking or some shit. And he will probably be romantic and kind and in all rights perfect for you. But you will hesitate and doubt every step your relationship takes. It will probably dive bomb straight into the ground and you’ll be left wondering what the hell. But honestly, you probably spent the whole time wondering if it was just casual, if you even liked each other, if the entire time you were “together” he was flirting, or worse, slutting around, behind your sad little back. News flash, no he wasn’t. You’re just dumb now.

Having a reputation you have to live with.

You are going to be asked about your sordid past. I promise you that much. Obviously, you could take the easy way out and lie through your teeth. But frankly, I think that makes you a scared little bitch. Oops. Sorry not sorry.

No you will own up to everything you did and everything you were, and you won’t be proud of it, but it’s yours. And from then on, every guy will hesitate. Do they want to date the girl that partied? That slept around? Maybe, maybe not. It’s intimidating really. Every guy you date, and even the one you may marry, will probably face insecurities they didn’t even know they had.

You will feel the repercussions of your every action. That’s not to say you can’t live with them, own them, or get past them, however you choose, but it does mean that Lucy, you got some ‘splaining to do.

Not having any savings by the time you graduate.

Let’s talk booze. That shit costs a pretty penny. I know you’re at the liquor store shaking your head at me like, nu-uhh betch, I’m buying a $10 bottle of Burnett’s cherry vodka, and I’m about to have a great night. Sure, you might. But I promise you, between the boozing, the drunk munchies, and the $5 lattes you need to survive your hangover tomorrow, you’re wallet is going to look pretty friggin empty.

I kid you not, by the time I left college I didn’t have any savings at all. Party habits are tough to break and they’re just as tough to afford to keep.

Embarrassing photos on Facebook that outlast your party days by a long shot.

I just deleted my Facebook account. This is a big step for me, because that thing’s been kicking since 2006. I know you might think its super funny to go back to your high school photos and creep, but one day when it’s time to put on your big girl panties, those photos when you were wasted at the mixer or a sweaty mess in the local club… Not the cutest. Sure you can always delete them, but as a true party girl you’re probably tagged in about 3,000 photos that all look the same and your drunken stupors melt together. Do you have time to sift through all that? I certainly don’t.

Feeling like the only accomplishment of your college years was minor alcoholism.

I want to look back on my college years like I accomplished something. I think everyone does, even if it’s just the tiniest bit. Me personally… After about 10 different majors, no degree, and only debt to show for my indentured servitude… Alcoholism wasn’t that proud achievement I had been hoping for. Hey, maybe I sound dumb, I don’t know. But hangovers aren’t exactly bullets on the resume.