WHY

This blog was born of devious intent.

I won’t lie to you, dear reader.  Is it pretentious to address my readership already?  Hi, Mom!  Either way.  I figure we shouldn’t start this relationship with any facades.  So again I must tell you that this website was not created under virtuous pretenses.  I don’t have a master plan to change your life with fuzzy quotes and cute infographics, help you lose 20 lbs. in 20 hours, or find the love of your existence by picking the perfect date night outfit.

I actually possess little to no useful “blogger” qualities.

I have zero culinary acumen to speak of – opting to usually subsist off of the dairy trifecta from my local Walgreens: yogurt, cheese, and froyo.

I don’t know how to accessorize because I don’t own any accessories.  This is mostly because I’ve lost the mate to all of my earrings and layering bracelets stresses me out.  Do you know how hard it is to buckle a watch on your wrist with one hand?  I’m not an acrobat.  Besides – if it’s before 11am I’m lucky to be functioning at a high enough level that I remember to collect the basic items granting me access into society.  Like pants.  And deodorant.  You’re welcome.

Although I’d like to be a self-proclaimed gym bunny, I’m probably closer to a gym rodent.  Like a gym platypus of sorts maybe – as I’m known to actively participate in public displays of fitness while wearing thick glasses and a retainer.  But does my telling you about abs enhance your life?  Probably not.  We all know sit-ups and planks exist and if we want to, we’ll get on the floor and flop around like a fish – a la less-skinny, less-Aussie versions of Kayla Istines.  Otherwise we will be comfortably rooted in front of Bravo with a freshly microwaved bowl of cheese. If you’d actually like to learn more about my malnutrition and how to microwave a bowl of shredded Kraft Mexican Blend to perfection as a stand-in “dinner”, I’ll be happy to divulge.

Instead, I’m here because I’m tired of the same blogs.  I’m tired of reading about the same people who pretend to have the same shit figured out and the same perfectly curated lifestyle.  I’m tired of posing for perfection.

This is a creation from a year of lost moments, a broken heart, a few boxes of pink wine, and somehow still a lot of joy.  This has begun because I’m exhausted and depleted yet simultaneously utterly brimming and giddy.  Because in any given day, we are a multitude of characters, of women, of emotions in one body.  And I want to share in the real shit and the real happiness that this human phenomenon brings.

I invite you into my world.  I invite you to laugh at my expense and cry with me as we find our voices and pet strange dogs on the street.

Xx,

C