Hello. Welcome to the Real World. It is 5 am.

Why is it SOOO hard for me to wake up in the mornings? I have been slacking on my blogging lately because of some recent changes that have pretty much taken over my life and mind. In order to help pay for college, I have taken on a second job. It is not as bad as it sounds. I only work during the day and have almost all of my evenings free. With my second job, however, I end up only having one real day off. Let me start by saying that I love my new job. I am a Paraprofessional at one of the local middle schools. I work with special education students and, I have to admit, they make going to work every day completely worth it. However, it is very hard to remind oneself of how important it is that one do well at one’s new job, and just how worth it the kids make it, when the alarm clock is screeching in one’s ear at five in the morning.

I am not a morning person. Though I would rather work mornings so that my evenings are free, I have never been good at getting up. I am the girl who sets four different alarms the night before, knowing that I will push snooze on every single one.  Still, every day I get up at five (or, let’s be honest, 5:20). I get ready, have my coffee, fix my hair, put on my clothes, get in my car, and drive. I drive to my job. I go to class on my lunch break. I return to work. I put the students on the bus. And then, finally, I come home. I am still not in the habit of going to bed at 8 pm, as I should. I fight myself every night. My body begs me to crawl under the covers while my mind tells me it is not nearly late enough to sleep! But after I do finally rest my head, I sleep, and start all over the next day. My father loves to say, “Welcome to the real world.” I have always hated it. The tone of sarcasm and hauteur with which it is delivered always irritates me to the point of the uncontrolled eye-roll. However, real world or not, I only know one thing—I really want a nap.  

Escaping the Valentine's Day Blues

*This post was meant to be posted on Valentine's Day. My computer, on the other hand, felt differently. Enjoy!

Aah Valentine’s Day. The day of love and, in my experience, listening to everyone around you complain about how much they hate the day. The complaints are always the same:

“I hate Valentines Day. “

“Valentines Day is just a corporate scam to force us to buy nonsense items at jacked-up prices.”

“Being single on Valentine’s Day is just a reminder of how sad and lonely I am.”

Blah blah blah. If you are depressed by Valentine’s Day then you are simply doing it wrong! To me, Valentine’s Day is a day of love and self-indulgence. It is meant to be a celebration of all things pleasurable. After all, Valentine’s Day is the one day a year when women can eat copious amounts of chocolate and men can watch romantic comedies without being made fun of. I have been single far more Valentine’s Days then not and I still find the day to be quite enjoyable. There are three ways I like to celebrate my Valentine’s Day that are guaranteed to give me a good time:

     1. Love Your Partner- If you have a significant other on Valentine’s Day, you are pretty much set. In fact, there is not much to say about you and your traditional Valentine’s Day setup, as this post is not really about you. Grab your partner, go to dinner, a movie, your favorite spot, whatever speaks to you as a couple. Add a little champagne and voila! Instant Valentine’s Day. Now, if your partner is one of the people who hates Valentine’s Day or simply refuses to take part in it for whatever reason, refer to option 2 and 3 below. Trust me, I have been in this situation before and there is nothing more boring than listening to your significant other, no matter how sweet they may actually be, brag all night about how he didn’t have to do anything for you. Distractions will be needed. 

   

        2.  Love Your Friends- Last year, my best friend and I were both single on Valentine’s Day and, I have to admit, it was the best Valentine’s Day I have ever had. We made a delicious dinner (well, she made dinner. I sampled the wine), drank wine, listened to music, and nearly laughed ourselves into a coma. Later that night, we met up with more friends for drinks. It was perfection. So celebrate your friendship and have a blast. You will be glad you did.

 3. Love Yourself- Now this is perhaps my favorite way to spend Valentine’s Day, probably because it has the potential to be the most indulgent.  If you are all alone on Valentine’s Day and don’t have anyone to celebrate with, this is the perfect time to love yourself. Gather your favorite food, your favorite drinks, your favorite chocolate and your favorite movies and books. This is a night about YOU. While everyone else is running around trying to figure out what on earth to get their boyfriend or girlfriend, or trying to figure out where to meet each other, you only have to worry about pleasing you. There will be no argument over what to eat, what to watch, or what to do. You don’t have to worry that you underdressed or won’t be ready in time. Tonight, love yourself. This is most important of all.

e.l.f. Brush Smorgasbord

As I mentioned in my previous post, “Confessions of a Makeup Addict”, I am a big fan of makeup and beauty blogs and videos. I watch a lot of them. When I say a lot of them, I mean probably more than anyone should. Is it a complete waste of time? Probably, but it is my thing so sod off.

            One thing that had been driving me mad after watching all these makeup tutorials was my current brush situation. I would watch the ladies (or in the case of GregoryGorgeous, the boys) carry out these stunning looks with their millions of brushes, each one created specifically for that task. I was stunned. I knew their were different kinds of makeup brushes but I had never realized just how many. I decided I wanted a collection of my own and, in my true obsessive style, spent the next few hours searching the Internet for brush kits, as I figured they would provide me the biggest bang for my buck. The problem I was having was the price. I knew from experience that there is no bigger waste of money when it comes to makeup than investing in bad brushes. To spend so much time and energy getting ready only to have your makeup badly applied and brush hairs stuck to your face is maddening. Maddening I tell you! I also knew, as a student with pretty much no income, I could not spend a lot…at all.

            After asking my mother if she could recommend any, she immediately mentioned e.l.f.Cosmetics. She assured me that, even though they are dirt cheap, they out performed and out lasted her high-end brushes. So, I ordered my own from Amazon and she was right. These brushes are fantastic. I received 12 brushes for $12.99—an amazing deal that even I could afford. And after trying them, I was so pleasantly surprised that I simply had to share.

            I will admit that a couple of the brushes did not suit my taste as much as my older ones, but the cast majority of them were great. The application was easy, smooth, and hair free. Also, each brush has the name of the brush stamped on the handle, so you never have to wonder what it is for. And the best part is, even if you don't love all of the brushes, for $12.00 you have still got a great deal. All in all, a great purchase.

The kit included:

 Concealer Brush                                  Total Face Brush

·           Blush/Bronzer Brush                           Defining Eye Brush

·           Foundation Brush                                 Eyelash Wand

·           Blending Eye Brush                              Brow Comb

·           Smudge Eye Brush                                Lip Defining Brush

·           Eye Liner Brush                                    Eye Shadow Brush

·    

Confessions of a Makeup Addict

Okay, confession time. I am a bit of a makeup freak. This is something that not everyone would know about me since, as a student, I spend a good chunk of my time in sweatpants, a hoodie, and a messy ponytail. On these days, you would be lucky to see so much as a tinted lip balm. I am not one of those girls who would rather die than go out without her makeup flawless and her hair fixed. I am the kind of girl who goes to bed every night with the intention to get up on time and actually get ready, then hears that alarm the next morning and decides sleep trumps spending two hours in the bathroom.

But, when it comes time for a night out with the girls or a day at work, you better believe this face will be covered in lovely, heavenly, pore-clogging makeup. I have always enjoyed makeup. When I was a girl, my mother was a Mary Kay representative. I would go to parties with her and listen to her pitch what this blush would do and how soft that hand cream would make your skin feel. I saw how excited the ladies would get over these tiny bottles of fix-all magic potion and I began to realize how powerful good makeup could be. I was hooked.

Recently, my obsession has been taken to a new level. Bloggers and Vloggers like Tanya Burr and Kate from The Small Things Blog have become part of my nightly ritual. I can easily spend hours watching their videos and combing through post after post on makeup, hair, and fashion. I highly suggest you check them out.

Now, I do not believe that a woman has to spend 30 minutes curling her hair or putting on makeup to be beautiful. I admire the women who are confident in themselves without the powders and creams. I simply choose, when I can actually get my butt out of bed, to wear it. For me, makeup is not about hiding who you are or what you look like. It is about enhancing natural beauty, showing off what you have, and having fun! It can be a form of self-expression. You wanna know how a woman is feeling today? Is she feeling sweet, sexy, confident, modest, professional… just look at her makeup. 

extraORDINARY

I would just like to start this greatly delayed blog post by saying, once and for all, that I absolutely loath applications. No, I do not mean the nifty little tools on our smart phones (I use the term "smart" loosely, as mine still refuses to stop changing my last name to Huskies) that let us shoot disgruntled birds at anatomically incorrect pigs. I mean the viscous little forms that are designed to determine whether or not we are "worthy". The whole point of an application, or more specifically the application process, is to dazzle whoever it is you are trying to convince of your worthiness, therefore causing them to believe you are, in fact, worthy. Worthy of what exactly? You tell me: that school you always dreamed of attending, that job you always wanted, that internship that will get you that job you always wanted. For me, applications are usually not this idealistic. Mine are usually the job that will be okay for now or the school that will offer me the most financial aid. Not as exciting on paper, but it gets the job done. No matter what you are applying for, the idea is the same—wow their socks off.

My problem with applications is this: nothing makes me feel more ordinary than being charged with the task of convincing others that I am, in fact, extraordinary. In truth, the older I get, the more I realize that the only thing extraordinary about me is my quest to be extraordinary. Applications are nothing more than a chance for the world to shove metaphorical sand down my already sandy metaphorical shorts. And, like sand in my shorts, I find the whole process leaves me uncomfortable, unsatisfied, and stuck finding said metaphorical sand in strange and confusing places, long after I have returned from the beach.

Lately, my life seems plagued by these pesky sand-shoving applications. During the last few months, my days have been filled with countless job applications and now, thanks to my harebrained scheme to finish my post-baccalaureate work at a different university than I am currently attending, college applications. It is difficult to communicate just how humbling the entire process is. I never considered myself a person plagued by a need for harsh self-reflection. Sure, I have my moments where I have to take a step back and analyze a situation to determine if I am doing everything I can to make it work. I personally find this both healthy and necessary.  Generally, when these moments come, I reflect, inspect, and move on (possible copyright in the works).

I am never too hard on myself for too long. I know who I am, (at least at this point in my life) what I am capable of, and am fairly motivated about making things happen.  And, for the most part, I am comfortable in that knowledge. All of this said, when it comes time to fill out yet another application, I find myself dreading the prospect to the point of procrastination. If it is a job application, I feel that I don’t have enough valuable experience. If it is a school application, I see that my grades, while acceptable, are far from Ivy League. If it is a credit card application…well, let’s just not even go there. By the time I have finished an application, I am left with the fear that I am not good enough. My point is, this must stop. After all, what makes some of us ordinary and some of us extraordinary? And why do you, invisible judger of all societal worth, get to make that decision?

The important thing to keep telling myself is that I AM worthy. I AM extraordinary. I may not be as smart as Stephen Hawking or as rich as Bill Gates. I may not be able to sing like Maria Callas or write like Hemingway. But I have a college degree from a respected university and I’ve studied in London. I have an essay about to be published, fantastic friends, and a dog who I have yet to accidentally kill. All in all, I would say that is not too shabby.  

What Is It About Coffee Shops?

Landon Pigg "Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop"

Today, a friend and fellow Blogger published a blog post about losing love and coping with the aftermath. She wrote about how she always imagined that one day she and her lost love would meet up at a coffee shop, reigniting the sparks and starting anew. When I read this, I immediately thought of myself (egotistical, I know). I realized that whenever I have a fantasy about meeting Mr. Right or running into an old flame, looking fabulous and far skinnier than I do in real life of course (it is my fantasy, after all), the fantasy always takes place at a coffee shop.  I couldn’t help but wonder, what is it about coffee shops?

Now, before I go any further, let’s just get the big, mocha colored elephant out of the way. Yes, I love coffee. And lattes. And mochas. And Chai. And…well, you get the idea. Hell, I have two blogs and both reference some incarnation of coffee in the title. I am a girl who likes her hot beverages. This, believe it or not, is irrelevant when it comes to my love of a good coffee shop. These days, drinking coffee and frequenting local coffee shops has become a way of life. It has created a distinguishable group of people –like hipsters. Actually, almost exactly like hipsters, only coffee shop frequenters are not tied in to exclusively wearing skinny jeans. The coffee-loving community even has a loosely defined class system. For example, I don’t know how many times I have seen people in my local coffee shop climbing on top of their soap boxes to preach the evils of Starbucks and the kind of “unoriginal, faux coffee drinkers” that frequent such a billion dollar establishment. I do not fit into this category. Yes, I love my local coffee shop and I would much prefer to hang out there for a day of reading, writing, and chatting than at Starbucks. This said, I would not want to be the person blocking my path when their Pumpkin Spice lattes come out every autumn. They are delicious and I don’t care who knows it. But I digress…

Coffee drinker or not, there is something magical and romantic about a coffee shop. Maybe it has something to do with the widely accepted correlation between coffee shops and book lovers, both of which I happen to be. I personally cannot think of a group of people more idealistic and, let’s be honest, pathetically romantic than we book lovers. You’ve seen us –the people who forgo the season’s hottest fashions in order to afford our book hoarding habit and coffee shop bill. We are the ones sitting in the corner of the café, bookstore, or library with our heads in our books, ignoring everything but the pages in front of us, breaking only to quickly sip whatever beverage happens to be in front of us or grab a highlighter. The coupling of a good book and a hot mug of coffee, or even tea, is poetry incarnate.

As a freshman in college, while my friends went out partying or took part in social clubs, I sat in a coffee shop. Everyday, rain or shine, I sat in that coffee shop with a book, my laptop, and a continuous stream of coffee until the shop closed at one in the morning. I became a regular there, learning the names of the baristas and claiming a favorite spot. The faces of the other regulars, whether I spoke to them or not, became a part of my daily routine. When the tall Indian man with the beret wouldn’t show up for his large latte with extra foam, I imagined what he was doing and how he was going to get his caffeine-fix that day. When the young lovers, who always sat huddled in the darkest corner to kiss and hold hands while pretending to do their homework, broke up, I wondered who would get custody of the table. And when the PhD student, who came in every day with his friend to order his regular Americano, asked me to come over and watch movie, I gave him my heart for three years. It had finally happened. I had found love in a coffee shop, just as I had always imagined. In the end, my three-year love affair with Dr. Americano did not work out. My love affair with the coffee shop, however, is still going strong. 

The Fire Has Been Lit

And we are up and running again, thank heavens! 

You may be asking yourself, "What on earth could have gone wrong to stop the posts so early in the blogging process”? Well, darlings, I shall tell you. In a nutshell, it was a mixture of perfectionism and my inability to make a decision. When I first had the (may I say, brilliant) idea to start this blog, I could not have been more excited to start writing again. As a student specializing in English and Literature, I spend a good chunk of my time in front of a computer putting my genius to paper. I do not, however, always get to do it my way. The world of academia is filled with rules, regulations, and a continuous stream of drafts and spell checks. So, naturally, the thought of sharing my daily thoughts, photos, and general rambles with the digital world sounded like a breeze! The next day I created my account, logged in, and created my first post.

Then I remembered who I was. I immediately dove into a pool of templates, headers, and Photoshop. In other words, I spent so much time trying to decorate my blog that I forgot to write it! Finally, I saw the error of my ways, picked the next theme I found, and called it a day. And may I just say, it is good to be back. So keep checking in for more posts, pages, pics, and (I can only imagine) even more changes.

The fire has been lit, my friends. Feel the burn. 

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Please forgive the horrid mess that is The Daily Grind today. She is undergoing a bit of a facelift. Be back soon!

Learn From It

“Lay a firm foundation with the bricks that others throw at you.” –David Brinkley

Not all tears are created equal. Some tears grow so large and hold so much sorrow that, when they are shed, they seem to wash away all we previously knew. These tears leave behind chasms filled with self-doubt and uncertainty, which cannot be filled. Instead, we are left struggling to reshape ourselves, and our world, into something that makes sense again. The result, for better or for worse, is a new self.

When I was fifteen, I shed such tears. The first boy I ever loved had broken my heart. Now, of course, we all know this is not the end of the world. We all get our hearts broken, usually more than once, and almost always by the boys (or girls) we loved when we were fifteen. But during this time, as I lay on the bed sobbing, my head in my mother’s lap as if I were a baby again, my mother told me something I have never forgotten. “There comes a time in all of our lives,” she said, “when something completely throws us for a loop. I know it hurts, but don’t let it break you. Learn from this.” Learn from this. And so I did. Of course it was hard, as all lost loves are, but it was a learning experience that helped to shaped the woman I am today.

There was, however, one small problem with the advice my mother gave me. The problem was, my friends, a lack of plurality. My mother said, “a time in all of our lives,” not “so many times that you will have no other choice but to analyze the linguistics of this advice in a last-ditch effort to make sense of it all”. When this advice was first bestowed upon me, I took it to mean that my fifteen-year-old heartbreak was it. Fabulous! I had done it. The bad bits were out of the way and now all that was ahead was sunshine, rainbows, and a young woman who knew exactly who she was and what was ahead of her. Of course, I know now that I was a moron.

Throughout my life I have faced changes, heartbreaks, and tribulations I never imagined I would face. Luckily, I am only in my twenties, so I am certain to have plenty of shit ahead. And those loops my mother spoke of? Well, this year has been filled with them. So, the way I see it, I only have one option- Learn from it.  The bad news? My troubles are nowhere near over. I am sure that my future holds plenty more of those self-altering tears, as do all of yours (don’t shoot the messenger). The good news? For every tear that wears away at our self-assurance, we are left with one more chance to reshape ourselves and our lives.  Every time we lose a bit ourselves, we replace it with a newer, smarter bit. A bit that knows more about the world. A bit that can better handle the bricks that are thrown. A bit that, let’s face it, we can only hope will do less stupid stuff than the previous bit did.  All we have to do is let it go and learn from it.