Happy Valentine’s Day!

Valentine's Day!

When I think about Valentine’s Day, I think about sitting in my friend Jacqui’s bed during our sophomore year of college. The house she was living in hadn’t seen an insulation or window update in half a century and the only way to stay warm was to chat whilst under the covers. We sat there for hours — talking, eating puppy chow and becoming the very best of friends. It’s one of my favorite memories of our friendship.

Most of the time, Valentine’s Day is about the love your life, but this year I’m celebrating love in general. The love I have for Christian, the love I have for my family, the love I have for my friends, the love I have for chocolate, the love I have for wine… you get where this is going. There’s lots of love and I know that I’m incredibly lucky to have it.

I wish you the very happiest of Valentine’s Days! I hope it’s full of love in whatever capacity you need … and make sure you sneak in a little chocolate too!


This is me.

This is me. In all my glory.


I’m sensitive. I’m a crier. I get frustrated easily. When I drink even a single glass of wine, I turn red, talk a little too much and can make any one my best friend.

I’m hilarious… I could tell you any multitude of stories that would have you laughing until you pee your pants. I’m also shy about sharing said stories.

I’m self-conscious and awkward when it comes to small talk. I care what you think, but desperately wish I didn’t. I hate being front-stage and center, but like to be appreciated for the things I do.

I’m scared I won’t be able to have children and that it will make me feel incapable of the things I was born to do.

For now, my dogs are my children and if you don’t like them, I take it personally. I also dress them in shirts. This is one instance where I don’t care what you think.

I get jealous but am working hard to release it.

I’m a great cook — bolognese sauce, fajitas, lemon raspberry cupcakes with graham cracker crusts, chocolate chip cookies, tenderloin sandwiches and pulled pork. I’m your girl.

Sometimes I laugh at the wrong time and smile when it’s totally inappropriate.

I’m not scared of hard work, but I hate monotony and tedious, repetitive details.

I believe in Jesus with my whole heart, but I also believe in self-love and the universe… and I don’t know how to reconcile that.

I want close girlfriends, but I have a hard time letting go of the past and putting in effort to move forward. Going all in scares me.

I hate olives, raw tomatoes, mushrooms and any type of organ meat. Someday, maybe, that won’t be the case, but for today it is what it is.

It took me two years to have the heart to decorate my home. If that says anything about the state of my life and emotions during that time… it’s that I was overwhelmed and having a hard time adjusting.

I’ve made more mistakes than I’m proud of, more than I’m willing to put on the Internet.

At 27, I just got my nose pierced. Sometimes I consider getting a tattoo.

My political views are more liberal than conservative which is in complete conflict with most of my religious views — this is why I’ve never, ever, ever claim to have it all together.

Sometimes the world feels too big, bad and evil that it’s hard to consider that it will keep existing even another day — it’s suffocating and if I think about it too much it will consume me.

I feel your pain — most literally. I’m extremely empathetic and while I may not have the words to tell you — my heart is hurting (or rejoicing) right along with you.

I’ve got a really wacky sense of humor and if you read all the messages on my phone… you would probably be concerned.

I hate having to go to the bathroom, it feels like a total waste of time.

I have an unhealthy relationship with food. There I said it.

I self-sabotage all the time. I am capable, smart, talented and full of potential… but I stop myself before I start almost every time.

I have an over-active guilt complex that leaves me second guessing, replaying and feeling bad for things that didn’t and don’t matter.

I’m responsible, kind, thoughtful and caring. I try my best and know that God is in control. I’m imperfect, I’m broken but I’m also living a life that I hope makes a difference. I’m trying to be vulnerable and authentic in hopes that it allows others to break the mold and let it out.

So tell me. I’m me – who are you?

20 things to be thankful for.

I’m not very good at, you know, getting posts out on the actual holiday… but I figure being thankful is being thankful and whether it happened last Thursday or happens this Thursday doesn’t really matter. Right? So here it goes, 20 things that I’m thankful for at the start of this holiday season:

1.) A husband that loves me, shares a love of cheese and pineapple, will let me watch hours of Diners, Drive In’s and Dives and who happens to be one of the greatest people I know. I heart him.

2.) Days where you just have to eat your feelings — and friends/family that are more than happy to join in.

3.) The most ridiculous, ill-mannered, sweet dog ever.

4.) Cheese. What else is there to say?

5.) A glass, or 5, of good wine.

6.) The best friends in the world. Ones who repeatedly remind you of all those times you laughed until you peed your pants.

7.) Knowing that rum cake is less than a month away. Oh, yes. Holiday desserts.

8.) The ability to spend a night snuggled in blankets watching movies from the 90’s (Ahem, Father of the Bride 2).

9.) A house, while needing immeasurable amounts of duct tape & love, to hang Christmas lights on.

10.) The best family a girl could ask for.

11.) My health and the health of those around me.

12.) Christmas – I just love it. Christmas trees, twinkle lights, joy.

13.) Pinterest. The amount of things I’ve learned and the amount of time I’ve wasted are both astounding.

14.) Red shoes because they can inevitably make any outfit glamorous.

15.) *Fingers Crossed* That we’re done car shopping for several years. Two new cars in less than 1 year is a bit much.

16.) Chapstick. My chapped lips live for you, and my addiction to you means I couldn’t go more than a day without you.

17.) All the amazing things that happened in 2011 – engagement, wedding, travel, new house, and the list goes on.

18.) A safe, warm (though Christian and I differ greatly on the definition) and nice place to call home.

19.) Truffle oil – on french fries, on burgers, in mac n’ cheese, in anything really…

20.) Snowflakes. But only when they’re falling. Once they’ve hit the ground they might as well be the scourge of the planet.

I truly am thankful for everything I have, all the friends and family in my life and so much more. Hope you had a fabulous Thanksigving (only a week late)!

*Image by: jessicaNdesigns

A little something I learned this weekend.

It’s June. The middle of June, but it seems that mother nature has failed to get this memo. So, in order to move things on I have written a brief letter on behalf of myself and all of those in Colorado:

Dear Mother Nature,

Get with the freaking picture and work on summer and summer like temperatures.


Megan and the rest of the state of Colorado

Why I cannot live in the rain.

And back to our regularly scheduled programming: For as long as I can remember I have loved rain. I love the smell, the sound, the laziness, the everything that is rain. I always thought I was meant for the pacific northwest. I knew I needed to live in Seattle or Portland or somewhere else where rain was the primary weather. I thought if only it rained every single day that I would be infinitely happy. Well, that entire thought process, that was years in the making, changed drastically this weekend.

The weather this past weekend, well really the past 4-5 days has included rain/constant drizzle, fog, gray skies, temperatures in the 40’s and overall gloomy weather. This is not how it is supposed to be in Colorado, in June. For the freaking record.

I have since devised the top 10 reasons that I cannot live in a constantly rainy climate, all learned this weekend:

1.) Productivity will be 0. My mind will be completely and utterly occupied with thoughts of hot chocolate, fireplaces and good books. Day dreaming would hit an entirely new level.

2.) Weekends, what weekends? I will spend the entire weekend wanting to nap or snuggle. Because, after all the rain is perfect for napping and snuggling and doing absolutely nothing.

3.) I will go broke. Why you ask? Because movies are also perfect for rainy weather and I will spend my non-existent fortune on going to movies and buying cheesy chick flicks to watch from my bed. While drinking hot chocolate. Note: Starbucks bill will also increase due to hot chocolate consumption.

4.) I will get fat. See #1 and #3 for my activity levels and hot chocolate consumption which will be considerable contributors to my weight gain. But the major issue will be all the comfort food (mac n’ cheese, cake, potato soup) that I will make “because it’s rainy and I deserve it”. Who said curves and flub aren’t sexy.

5.) I will have to shave my head. My hair, here in CO, lives in a state of straight. I blow dry it straight and it more or less obediently behaves the rest of the day. However, with even the slightest hint of moisture, rain or humidity the waves break themselves out of their straightened ways and create a hodge  podge of trailer mess on top of my head. So I’d have to shave my head to accommodate.

6.) I’ll never look fashionable. Sweat pants are required on rainy days, which have their merits. Attractiveness is not one of them. Also, trying on clothes when it’s cold and rainy? Not going to happen. Just get used to the sweatpants, there isn’t any other option.

7.) I will become a hermit. If traffic in Seattle/Portland/Other rainy cities is anything like Denver in the rain I wouldn’t handle it very well. There would be tears and shaken fists. After a few months I would most likely decide that traveling about isn’t worth my effort and hole up to watch movies in bed wearing sweat pants. Never leaving.

8.) I would become a drunk. Turns out that rain can make a girl like me feel a little down. Maybe it’s all that time to really sit and think and dwell and wonder. And then realize that life is full of all sort of complexities and that those complexities would be easier understood with a glass or two or three of red wine. Everyday. In the rain.

9.) My insurance would drop me. I’m a klutz and I fall, trip, slip and run into things on quite the regular basis. Now add slippery, wet conditions to my life and I’d become a regular resident of the local hospital. But, casts/stitches/bruising is really not all that appealing given my fear of needles and other pointy, stabby, broken things. After the incessant medical bills my insurance company would provide a tidy break-up letter.

10.) I’m out of ideas. So #10 is dedicated to my sad realization that I am not meant for rain. I’m also not meant for tiny swim suits. What?!? They are both water related.

So that’s what I learned. I have high hopes for the sunshine and high temperatures that are “predicted” for the coming week. Come on Mother Nature, I can only handle so many of your weather shenanigans.


My friend Kaitlyn lives in Indiana… and she has brought to my attention the art of Wassailing. Now, I live in Colorado and have never heard of such, Wassailing, in all my years (except in a few select Christmas numbers). Ahem:

Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green,
Here we come a-wand’ring
So fair to be seen.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,
And God bless you, and send you
A Happy New Year,
And God send you a Happy New Year.

– Here We Come A-Wassailing

For those of you that don’t know (I was one of you only a day ago), how Wassailing works , according to Kaitlyn is “we go to a house, sing and then go in for an hour and eat/drink/socialize before moving to the next”. This may not be the “classic” definition, but it’s there’s and I like it. Kaitlyn’s night went a little something like this:

House 1: Wine! Good Start!

House 2: Singing “Deck the Halls” and shaking Jingle Bells. Lots of food, Lindt chocolate and bubbly or beer!

House 3: Singing “Jingle Bells”… more food and a variety of alcohol.

— Updates sent via text message throughout the night for the sole purpose of making me insanely jealous.

Seeing as the Christmas spirit has all together skipped me this year, I think the one thing that could have saved me was Wassailing. I mean, really, I’m not so into public singing, as dogs are the only ones that can hear me and occassionally a window shatters. But really, on Christmas, who cares about the details. I’m sure I could be persuaded with a glass of wine and some Lindt chocolate to do just about anything, including sing. And, if by chance I won’t sing at the first house… a glass of wine will surely have me singing by the second. Right? Then a glass of bubbly and I’ll be belting out “All I Want For Christmas Is You” by the third.

Now, don’t go getting all crazy here. I’m not planning or dreaming of  singing songs about Christmas intoxicated. Not cool, being Christmas and all. But you know a glass of wine here, a hot toddy there, can’t hurt.

So, here’s to Wassailing, the lost art form at Christmas that I believe needs to be re-instated. Looks like I have a WHOLE year to plan. Food, drink, social festivities and singing like an idiot. All things I enjoy. Wassailing 2010 here I come.

Time To Get Tacky!

I’m a big fan of comfort. I could live in sweatpants, shorts, pajamas, running skirts amongst a few other things. So soft, flowy, amazing. Now imagine my delight when I discovered that Christmas 2009 was going to involve a tacky sweater party. Because who doesn’t love a party that is based solely on comfort and tackiness? I have been elated and probably overly excited for the past month and a half. Part of this joy came from knowing my tacky sweater was going to put many others to shame. Shame I tell you. Not only was it tacky (because tacky it was), but it also played an array of Christmas tunes. I made everyone listen… which apparently looked like I was making them smell my sweater. Not awkward at all.

I decided that if you’re going to a tacky sweater party you have to do it right. No half-assing it for me. I decided to let Christmas throw up on me for a night and call it sexy. I’ve personally never been so attracted to myself. Amidst the madness and mayhem I forgot to get a full body shot… so you’ll have to do with the top half. In addition to the upper body amazingness I also had on knee high red/green striped socks with pom poms hanging down the side and fuzzy Christmas slippers. I realize that my description may cause some to feel intense feelings of attraction, but please try to restrain yourself. Check me out:

Ashlyn, Me and Jacqui (Schmacqui) getting tackified!

There was also a white elephant  and a plethora of wine to be had. At one point “Mr. Wee Wee” or whatever he is really called made an appearance. I surprised more than a few people and entertained comments about face peeing for the next several hours…

It was one amazing night all the way around.


I love wine, and if you don’t love wine… well I’m not sure there is much hope for you. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but someone had to do it. I read this quote on the menu at Earl’s a few weeks ago and, honestly, it’s the best justification I’ve heard yet:

Drink wine, and you will sleep well. Sleep, and you will not sin. Avoid sin, and you will be saved. Ergo, drink wine and be saved. – Medieval German saying

Makes perfect sense to me.

All Done.

Today is the official end of Nablopomo. THE END, the very end. I can now enjoy 11 months of posting whenever I want and seriously reduce the amount of swear words that come out of my mouth at about 10:00 each night. Serious freedom. I honestly can’t believe I made it. I’m impressed with myself and anyone else that managed to complete 30 days of posting joy. I would have a glass of wine, or four, but I’m in Louisville for work and I think that my incessant chatter and giggling might be frowned upon. Go figure.

This is exactly how I feel:



I’m only four days late in talking about it. You think I would have been able to pull out a semi-easy post on the fact that I have to tie myself to his here MacBook and post at least once a day this month. Daunting task, and trust me I know… I’ve already struggled through 3 days of random ramblings. Considering my past posting history of about one per week, it’s fairly obvious that every day will be a much-needed improvement. It’s not for lack of ideas that I don’t post more often, but of needing time to let things marinate – which isn’t always feasible. Ok, ok maybe that’s a lie. Sometimes it’s marinating and other times I would rather sit on a 4 hour plane ride with a teething baby than attempt to write something just bursting with witty charm. So there you have it. My first official Nablopomo. A month of self-torture.

I hope you know that I’ll be buying myself an extra large glass of wine if I make it through all 30 days. Maybe two, and a cupcake. Because I’ll deserve it, that I’m sure of. So here’s to a month of random ramblings, a tour through San Fran, and a plethora of awkward and embarrassing moments. Nablopomo 2010.