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.


Reasons I Would Prefer To Be A Man


Almost all the ideas we have about being a man or being a woman are so burdened with pain, anxiety, fear and self-doubt. For many of us, the confusion around this question is excruciating.” -Andrew Cohen


Men always complain about how cool it would be to have boobs to look at, you can make yourself more attractive with beauty products and a vast majority of other reasons. I’m perfectly content being a woman, but IMHO, being a dude has some pretty great advantages.



Women are so so so self-conscious about that little ring of pudge that hides right below our belly button. Did you know it’s biologically and chemically engrained in our hormones that it needs to be there? Even in the skinniest of girls, Mother Nature wants there to be a little pillow of warmth for when it comes time to bear a child. So unless you eat ice cubes and celery for six months while simultaneously spending 19 hours in the gym every day (you need like, at least 5 hours of sleep… right?) IT WILL BE THERE. Guys can run a few times a week and *bam* six-pack. I bite my thumb at you, Mother Nature.


I don’t know why it’s become a thing, but girls bite other girls’ heads off if she enjoys watching sports. Apparently, if you have a vagina, you can’t actually be interested in pigskins and wide receivers without be trying to blatantly impress a man. WROOOOONG. I can talk circles around my fiancé when it comes to sports, he’s more of a computer guy. Traditional interest, shmaditional shminterest. Why does it matter if girls want to sit down on a Saturday morning and finish a whole pan of 7-layer-bean dip while her Alma Mater destroys the rival team? It shouldn’t. Granted, there are some special bimbo offenders who can look up a few stats and regurgitate RedZone or Sports Center just to seem cute, but most of us could give two flying fishes if a dude notices we’re into the game. Some girls like sports, get over it.


Sorry not sorry, but I have to state the obvious. YOU CAN PEE WHEREVER YOU WANT. For women, it’s like a crash course that most of us never got—peeing anywhere other than a toilet is extremely difficult, and usually messy. If you get drunk and stumble out of the bar into an alley, as long as there aren’t cops around, you’re free to let it flow. However, girls’ use of the restroom (especially in bars) is near impossible. Not to mention, females flock to the bathroom in fucking herds. “I need to powder my nose and check if it’s time to change my tampon, I need my seven closest girl friends, my mother-in-law, probably my pet tortoise and a few doves for moral support.” Cheese and rice ladies, put your big girl panties on (or… take them off, I guess) and pee by yourself.


Every living, breathing, warm-blooded woman is a sucker for a sexy guy with bed head, tired eyes and a sleepy voice. Even when girls want to have the “just woke up and rolled out of bed” look, it takes like half an hour to accomplish. That messy bun? She re-messed it approximately four times until it did exactly what she wanted. Puffy lips and glowy eyes don’t just happen in real life—except maybe Cara Delevingne and Kate Upton. We might be angels in your mind, but trust me, we have to work to get there. My main problem with this is being in the military, men can shave the night before and wake up 10 minutes before they need to leave for work just to get into uniform. We have to make our hair perfect, and most of us wear makeup so we don’t look like complete trolls in our camis. Getting ready all around is just a time-consuming task and should probably be qualified as hard labor. Which brings me to my next point…


Obviously, this is a general blanket statement. Some guys only take 7 minutes, some take 45 (think Ted Mosby in HIMYM doing his hair before he leaves the apartment… pitiful). Even when men try to take a long time to get ready, there is just a sheer lack of numbers on your possible to-do list. We have to shower, shave, lotion, blow dry, style, brush teeth, do makeup, pick an outfit, put on perfume, and then do the last primping and fluffing. Guys have to shower, (maybe shave), cologne, throw on clothes, possibly use a little product on your hair, brush your teeth, then go. We don’t want to do these things. Nobody wants to spend 2 hours from start to finish, only to be outside of the house for the same time it took to get ready. Society makes us do it. I’ll take a lazy day where the extent of my adventures are bumming it to Safeway for some Karamel Sutra and a RedBox movie over a fancy, glamorous evening on the town ANY TIME BRUTHA.

                                        Full disclosure: all examples based on real-life situations and the actual men that are in my life (ie: father, brothers—I’ve got six of them, fiancé, guy friends, coworkers, etc) so don’t go throwing me under the bus by saying that you’re different.

When it comes down to it, I love being a woman. I can use a magic coloring stick to make my acne disappear, I smell like flowers and unicorns 24/7, I’m almost never the big spoon (see about that here), and nobody will come knocking down my door to ask questions if I want to watch The Vow, Dear John and A Walk To Remember all in a row.

Life is all about balance, my friends. Be a man when it’s time to be a man, but be a woman when you need to be a woman (last interjection, Lyss has some funny things to say in that regard).