My 28th Year

Well, it's here. My birthday. 

To be completely honest, I don't really look forward to my birthday anymore. I haven't really for a long time. 

Around two years ago, I remember telling my sister- and brother-in-law that no one really cares about your birthday once you're in the real world. Sure, your close friends and family care--but no one at work really wants to throw you a party or take you to lunch. They might, but ultimately, it's not make-or-break for them. My sister-in-law, bless her, was shocked to learn that no one I knew made a big deal about my birthday: at work, I don't like parties and even if they tried to throw me one, I would probably say no thank you

To some people, this is probably shocking. When I was younger, I promise, I did love my birthday. I just don't anymore. 

It's not that I'm growing older. I really don't care how old I am. But the older I've gotten, the more I've realized that the world doesn't, can't, and probably shouldn't revolve around me--no matter how small the capacity. I also, generally, hate the idea of other people spending money on me: I can think of 100 different ways for my husband, my mom, my friends to spend their money ("put it in savings," is what I always want to say). 

This feeling has gotten worse this year. In the past year, I think I have bought things for myself under 6 or 7 times. I barely go shopping anymore, and that includes online shopping. I bought a make up palette in August and felt guilty about it for weeks. Something about becoming a mom made my attitude about spending money kick into high gear: the money I spend on a new pair of shoes could go into Forrest's college fund, or towards his food, or buy him some new clothes because he's always outgrowing something

I would rather all money and attention go towards something else--preferable Forrest, but I'm not picky. 

However, this post isn't about my life as a spendthrift. This post is about how this--the habit I've detailed about--is a habit I'm trying to break. 

Due to a series of unfortunate events recently, I've realized that I need to start caring about myself just a teensy, weensy bit more. I don't think I'm ever going to turn into one of those people who demands attention be paid to them or gets upset when no one in the office wishes them happy birthday, but I now know that it's okay for me to demand time for myself, it's okay for me to take care of myself, and it's okay for me to accept gifts and not feel guilty. 

For my 28th year, that's my wish for myself: no more returning things I buy myself; no more talking myself out of buying something I really, truly want more than anything else; no more calculating how much money I have in my head and deciding, "no, I should buy something for Forrest instead." No more! 

It's okay to take care of myself. That's what I wish for next year: more self-care, less anxiety. 

What Does Being Petite Really Mean?

For as long as I could remember, I thought of the term "petite," as least when it was applied to body size, as meaning "short." Short sizes. Small inseam lengths. That kind of thing. When my mom and sister shopped in the petite section, it was to try to find pants they didn't have to hem. It did not, in my mind, mean that the sizes were teeny tiny. 

A few years ago, I encountered a very strange argument on Instagram regarding the introduction of new Anthropologie petite sizes. Firstly, I don't shop at Anthropologie; I cannot justify a $70 pillow or a $200+ cotton dress, I just can't. And secondly, Instagram arguments are weird and petty and always kind of funny.

The drama on the Anthropologie issue started over people leaving comments that seemed to be a little, well, thin-hating. Obviously, bodyshaming of any variety is not ok. However, I started to think: wait, what? The line is a line of smaller sizes or shorter lengths?

Basically: are they just making smaller clothes or are they making a petites line, like the petites sections that have long existed in department stores like Macy's or JCPenny's? Have we officially confused the English language so much that we have multiple different definitions of "petite"? 

As it turns out, the line is for women 5'3" and under. From what I can tell on the website, the clothes aren't necessarily smaller (except for length) and come in almost all conventional sizes. That's pretty awesome. But it made me wonder: why did the post about it on Instagram devolve into arguments about sizes (and by that I mean number sizes, not inseams), including quite a few comments that could be read as a bit thin-hating? 

I decided to google what petite meant Interesting. "Having a small and attractively dainty build." Stop, Google, you're making me blush. But seriously, is petite about being physically teeny, as in both short and extremely thin?

I have a dainty build (re: small bone structure), but some sizable fleshy parts of my body. I'm 5'2" and wear a size 8 regularly, yet I still often find myself being called the smallest person in the room (even though I know a ton of people who are smaller than me, physically, if not height-wise). Further definitions included: "small, slender, and trim; used for girls and women; a clothing size for short, slender women." Thanks, Free Online Dictionary. 

Another unhelpful, but maybe helpful, fact is this: the number of blogs dedicated to fashion for "petite" women is astonishing. I started reading through a few and I found myself getting, well, uncomfortable. The purpose of these blogs is ultimately noble and good-intentioned, but I found myself feeling a little weirded out by the constant description of their super small bodies, their need to only buy children's clothes or to search out specifically "narrow fit" boots. Some of the women who run these blogs are also not very short in stature; they just happen to be very, very thin. So, that's what petite means to some fashion blogs. 

I always thought to be petite, you just had to be short. And as far as I can tell, short people come in lots of different clothes sizes, including plus-sized. There is a disparity between what clothing producers mean when they say "petite" and what people think when they say "petite"--in fact, I think it's two different things. I think when Anthropologie posted about a new "petite" line, some people immediately thought: "clothes for skinny people." Because, apparently, that's the main definition of the word petite. 

However, when you look up Petite Size on Wikipedia, it mentions that conventional clothing sizes in the United States are designed to fit a woman who is over 5'5" (which is insanity, no wonder none of my pants fit) and so petites lines and entire store sections emerged as a place for women under 5'3" to buy clothing. And that clothing came in a variety of conventional sizes with the wonderful P added to indicate they were just cut differently. That's pretty awesome for ladies of the short variety (like me). However, now we have other definitions of petite popping up: thin or not-thin, short or not-short. 

Can we just have all words mean the same thing, ok? Thanks, English Language. 

This reminds me overwhelmingly of the use of the word "curvy": some people mean one thing when they say it, some people mean another thing when they say it, and sometimes people aren't being necessarily nice when they say it, which is pretty sucky of them. All kinds of arguments and anger can spring up when someone uses the word "curvy". I distinctly remember referring to myself as "curvy" once in college and the person I was talking with immediately consoled me, saying, "You aren't fat! Don't say that!" Except that wasn't what I meant by curvy, but ok. 

So, the real question is: are petites sections in department stores lies? What gives? 

It turns out, it's not. There are two meanings to the word petite and unfortunately, that gets confusing most of the time. Some people will claim that petites sections in stores cut their sizes about 1-1.5 sizes smaller (so a size 8 in a petites isn't really a size 8), but that doesn't make sense and isn't really true. I find I'm the same size in petites sections as I am in regular sections, everything is just shorter (and let's be real, frumpier, because apparently department stores think all people under 5'3" are 85 years and older).

Basically, what this all boils down to is this: words are just words and you shouldn't get up in arms about them, or upset about them, unless they are used intentionally to upset you (then you should totally get your cranky face on). A chain store creating a line of petites clothes wasn't meant to offend anything; it was meant to create clothes for shorties, because sometimes it is hard to find clothes in a world where all clothes are cut for people 5'5"+. Getting cranky about a store creating a line of petites -- or plus sizes or whatever -- might be personally offensive to you if, I don't know, you really dislike short people, but it's not meant to be and so... cool it and stuff, seriously. Once a "well, I don't personally like that" turns into a "I'm gonna leave hate comment on Instagram," you've magically transformed into a jerk. Congratulations!

The Hardest Part of Being in Content Marketing

I think by this point, anyone who knows me knows that I am pretty high strung: I'm neurotic and I pretty much worry 24/7. It's not super pleasant, but it's who I am. 

I often tell Danny that I worry I don't work hard enough, that I don't write enough, that I'm just not doing enough. 

This is a weird combination of worrying that I'm being seen as lazy when I relax and imposter syndrome, which is when you're constantly waiting for the people around you to realize you are a fraud. 

Again, not super pleasant, but incredibly common. 

When it comes to content marketing, I spend most of my days writing: social media, email campaigns, blogs. You name it, I'm writing it. When I'm not at work, I'm at home, thinking of blogs to write for my personal blog, thinking of social media to post. By my own counts, I'm creating about 85% of my day. 

And yet, sometimes, at the end of the day, I'll say to Danny, "I wish I had more time to write." 

Every time I say this, he looks at me like I am crazy. And really, I am. He always says that my writing output is prolific; of everyone he knows, he says, I write the most, period. But I don't believe it.

When I add up the words in my head, it feels disjointed. Something seems off about it. 

I had a talk with myself about this the other day, especially as NaNoWriMo approaches. I wonder if I'll be able to write 50,000 words in a month alongside all the other writing I do. Will I have time? 

I want to write more, but at the same time, I realize that I write so much during the day. I crank out content at a near constant rate. 

My boss often says that in a work capacity, especially in creative positions, you're output level is about 80%: you can work 30-32 hours a week pretty successfully, but those last 8 hours of work... are rough. Human beings are not designed to be creating 100% of the time, especially at professional levels. It's just not possible. Our brains get tired. 

But sometimes, that's what I expect from myself. "Why can't I write an emailer campaign, two blogs, two weeks worth of social media, and a short story all in one day!?" I don't think I literally think that, but sometimes, when I'm beating myself up for not spending more time writing in the evening, I can't help but wonder if that's how I think. 

For me this is the hardest part of working in content marketing: the creative drain it puts on me. 

I put all my creative energy into content creation, 65% of which benefits my job (not my personal brand). The rest of the time, I'm creating for my blog--which leaves very little time to create for myself. That includes journaling, scrapbooking, and fiction writing. 

It's exhausting. And it's hard. 

It's hard to be a creative in content marketing. Sometimes, it feels like a void that is just pulling me in and giving me very little in return for all the creative energy it uses. 

But realistically, it's up to me to draw the line. I can push myself: I can scramble to fill up the rest of my day with creative writing, alongside everything else I do; or I can take a break from something. 

What I decide to do will ultimately only be benefit: I can either work on my anxiety and my creative spirit; or I can more fully take on my career in content marketing. It's a draw, at this point. 

The Worst Advice I've Ever Received

Last week, I wrote about the best advice I've ever received. I thought I'd also share the flip side: the worst advice I've ever received. 

We all receive different kinds of advice every day (or maybe it's just me and Forrest!) and some of it is just plain awful. For me, bad advice often falls into 3 separate types. Here they are: 

1. Telling me what to do and not following up with why

This happens a shocking amount with Forrest. Here's the thing: I'm a rule follower. Tell me a rule and explain why and I will follow that rule for the rest of my life. (A few examples: No soda before 11pm; no eating after 7pm; no swimming after eating; etc.) It may be wrong or it may be right, but I will follow it. But I also hate being told what to do with no explanation. So suggesting I take a specific action with my job or with Forrest and then not telling me why--or when I ask for an explanation, just being told, "just try it!"--is supremely annoying. It's also bad. 

2. Negging on what I'm already doing

"Listen," you say, leaning forward, "I know you decided to do THIS, but I really think you should do THIS... I know it's been, like, 2 months, but I think it's better." 

Gee, thanks! Here's the thing: when I decided what I'm going to do, I want to see it to the end. I don't care if your uncle's brother's best friend's sister's dog did the same thing and ended up dead or something. I just want to try and forge my own path. I'm an adult. If it's not working, I think I can make that decision on my own.  

3. Giving me advice I did not ask for

Whenever someone on Facebook posts a photo of their, usually quite young, baby in a car seat, usually while their parents blearily wander through a store or wait at a doctor's office, I brace myself for what will inevitably come. Someone sees an innocent photo, cracks their knuckles, and begins to type. Listen, whether you think a baby's car seat straps are wrong or they shouldn't be wearing a hoodie or that they shouldn't be in a doctor's office, with germs everywhere, it's none of your business. So keep it to yourself. 


Bad advice has happened to the best of us. What's your least favorite type? 

30 Ideas for your Blog

"Consistent content" is a rule that gets thrown around a lot for successful blogging. And it sounds great in theory. But everyone gets to a point where they just run out of ideas--either through stress or anxiety or writer's block, every blogger has a moment where they think, "I just don't know what to write anymore." 

I've had a lot of times like this myself. In August, I started an editorial calendar, where I write a topic idea for every single day. I don't always have to use that idea, but it helps me having a running list. I have blogs planned through November with this method. Whenever I have a random idea for a blog, I add it to a list on my phone and then to my calendar. 

I thought I'd share a list of topic ideas for other bloggers to use when they're stuck, need to work on their editorial calendars, or just plain need a little inspiration. 

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  1. 5 products you love
  2. 5 overrated products
  3. Your blog story
  4. Your blog goals
  5. A day in your life
  6. Your favorite podcasts/songs/movies/etc
  7. Seasonal decorating
  8. Your beauty routine
  9. A letter to your past self
  10. Things you've learned since graduating/getting a job/becoming a blogger/etc
  11. The best/worst advise you've ever received
  12. Your personal goals
  13. Your bucket list
  14. Your favorite apps
  15. A longterm goal you want to reach (publishing a book, starting a business, etc.) 
  16. Seasonal beauty projects
  17. Monthly goals
  18. A perfect playlist
  19. Prepping for the holidays
  20. How to take better photos/how you're improving your photos
  21. A challenge you've overcome and how
  22. 5 recipes you want to try
  23. 5 things you're thankful for
  24. How you organize your blogging materials
  25. Why you decided to start blogging
  26. Your favorite jeans/skirt/top/etc
  27. 5 things you wish blogging did (want to make money? want to start a newsletter?) 
  28. The hardest part of being (a blogger/a student/etc) 
  29. 3 favorite Twitter chats
  30. 5 products you cannot live without 

I Worked with a Murderer (& This is What I Learned)

Because of the type of person I am (a true crime buff), I followed the disappearance closely when it first happened. A woman (we'll call her S) went missing at the beginning of December, 2013. She had been in Cottage Grove (my hometown) for Thanksgiving to visit friends and family and then had planned to return home to Beaverton. Sometime between Thanksgiving and December 2, she disappeared. Her family reported her missing, scared for her safety due to her health problems. 

I remember November and December 2013 very clearly: I was working at a job I hated, totally miserable; and those two months were two of the coldest I can remember in a long time. It was in the negatives every single night and barely got above freezing during the day. Those kind of temperatures are abnormal for Oregon. 

When they found S, she was discovered not far from where I live, on a piece of BLM property. She had been shot. Not long after, an ex-boyfriend who she had visited in Cottage Grove was arrested. For a long time, that was the last I read about the case. It seemed pretty simple, an open-and-shut, sadly way too common kind of case. 

Fast forward a few months. I had started a new job, it was early Summer, and as I walked into the office, I glanced at the newspaper on the front counter. Staring back at me wasn't just any face: it was a face I recognized. 

It was the ex-boyfriend who killed S. Where on Earth have I seen him before? I read his name over and over again, but I just couldn't remember. His face was so familiar. I was sure I knew him, but I couldn't place him. It was the worst feeling. 

I went about my day and read up on the case. I read about the trial, about how the ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend testified about his behavior after their break up (this also rang as very familiar, but I couldn't place it), about how he had been found guilty, about how he had tried to claim self-defense, about how he had hid S's body in his house for weeks thanks to the abnormal temperature and how the cops even visited his house while she was still there. 

As I drove home, I kept thinking about it. 

Then, it hit me. 

Figaro's Pizza. I had worked with him at Figaro's Pizza. 

We'll call him M. The minute I remembered, the minute my mind connected him to Figaro's, it all came back to me. I knew his ex-girlfriend who testified at the trial. I knew M. I had worked with him, hours and hours and hours, in high school. We had talked hundreds of hours, complained about the same things, laughed at the same jokes. 

I immediately texted Danny. "That's crazy," he replied. What an unsatisfactory answer. 

The true crime lover in me (I do listen to My Favorite Murder, Casefile, and In Sight an embarrassing amount) was thrilled I had worked with someone connected to a murder case; however, another part of me felt really, really repulsed. 

It's strange to look back at part of my life and see it in a totally different light. There was no way for me to know, at the age of 17, that one of my coworkers, a grown adult, in his 40s then, was going to go on to murder a defenseless woman. But for whatever reason, that knowledge now changes how I see everything during my life at that first job. 

Working with M was not like working with the boogeyman. I would easily describe him as strange, as a little off, but then, I am a little weird myself. Who am I to judge? He also seemed very kind and, to be quite honest, a little slow. Sometimes, he showed up to work in a really strange mood, talking strangely. My coworkers and I chalked this up to drug use, but we could never really be sure. 

I shiver now thinking about the number of times I closed the pizza place with him. We would lock the doors at 10:30 pm and walk to our cars in the dark. I am terrified of the dark--it's one of my biggest fears--and so, this walk was often the worst part of my day. Looking back, I feel like my memory of the fear is amplified now that I know what I know. 

Sometimes, as a true crime buff, it's easy to mentally distance myself from things that happen: these are just stories, I think, and it can be easy to dehumanize, to not remember that behind these stories are real people--with friends, family, children, dreams, and paths they no longer get to pursue. It can be challenging to remember the reality: that both sides, victim and perpetrator, had and have lives away from the crime. 

I found myself, for a while, feeling guilty for feeling sympathy for M: I felt like a line in the sand had been drawn and that I had to accept that the person I knew was not the person I thought I knew. But the truth is, it's possible to feel both: it's possible to simultaneously be horrified by something someone did and to remember them as a decent human. Good people can do terrible things and it's ok to miss them, to feel sympathy for them, to question why they did it. 

I'm turning this over to you. Have you ever had something like this happen to you? 

10 Ways to Improve Your Wardrobe

"I need to do something about my wardrobe," I said. "But I don't want to spend money." 

I have said the above phrase at least 100 times in my lifetime. It seems like the constant conundrum, right? You have tons of clothes, but nothing to wear. 

I wrote this post, originally, over 5 years ago--but I think the ideas still stand! I've edited my original post, but wanted to share it again here. When it comes to improving your wardrobe, there are little things you can do to make changes and feel inspired again. Here is everything I do. 

1. Take everything out. Seriously.

Start sorting. Does it still have a tag on it? If so, when did you buy it? If it was more than six months ago, be honest with yourself: you're never going to wear it. Sorry! Then, assess the things you've worn in the last six months or so. If you haven't worn it in over a year, ask yourself if you seriously ever plan to wear it. (This doesn't include winter items, obviously. Seasons are tricky!) The things you don't think you'll ever wear, put into a pile. The things you still think you want to wear, put into another pile. Immediately put the things you don't plan on ever wearing again into a box or bag--you're donating these things, so say goodbye. 

2. Write it out.

Take out a pen and some paper and start writing a list of ways to wear your "questionable" items. By that I mean, the things you weren't sure if you would ever wear (if they still had tags) or would ever wear again (if you haven't worn them in 6+ months). If you can't think of a way to wear an item... put it in the box or bag with the things you're already donating. Use this method to work through everything in your wardrobe, from tee shirts to dresses. Eventually, you'll start moving a lot faster. 

3. Donate everything you never plan on wearing again. 

Don't mope about it. Don't hide it in a closet in the back of your house and tell yourself you might wear it someday. Don't put it in your garage and say you just want to wait until you lose weight or start a new job or win the lottery. It's just taking up space--physically and mentally. They're just clothes. 

4. Reorganize your closet. 

Think of the best way to group things in your closet. Typically, I do all dresses together, all cardigans together, etc. Each section is organized by color as well (usually in ROYGBIV style). This might not work for everyone, though! Think of a system that will work for you (items you wear together often grouped together, for example) and implement it... and then stick with it! Changing how your clothes are arranged can make you look at everything fresh as well. 

5. Organize your drawer spaces. 

I roll my scarves; fold tee shirts and tank tops into little squares and store them in rows so I can see all of them; and roll my skirts and shorts. This prevents both wrinkling and losing track of anything. Again, organize your drawers in a way that will help you stay organized! And remember, whenever you do laundry, stick with the system. Don't just start squishing things in!

6. Clean out your shoes... and clean them up. 

Remember what you did with your closet? Do the same with your shoes! And while you're at it, clean your shoes up! I'm really bad about getting my shoes muddy (I live out in the country! I can't help it), so every once and a while, give them a bath. I keep all of my shoes in a variety of bins in a closet downstairs. I recently did a clean out and narrow down my entire shoe wardrobe to under 10 pairs. 

7. Put art up in your closet: inspiration quotes, paintings, photos, goals, whatever. 

Basically, pretty up the space in a way that will inspire you. You can tape editorials from magazines to a blank wall and create a collage, or pin up quotes or images. Think of your closet as your vision board: it includes your clothes, your inspiration, and you.  

8. Use old shoeboxes (covered in wrapping paper) to store small items, like sunglasses, belts, or large costume jewelry you rarely wear. 

This is my favorite way to pretty up a space without spending any money. I have tons of Christmas and birthday wrapping paper, as well as lots of spare shoe boxes! Just wrap them up in your favorite papers and use them to store delicate items like sunglasses. Then you can stack those boxes on a shelf in your closet easier than keeping these items out in the open. 

9. Set up a row of hooks (or pushpins in an old corkboard) to hang up your favorite necklaces. 

I love being able to visualize everything -- including my favorite necklaces. I used a corkboard, but you can just set up a row of command hooks or push pins in the wall! You can also put up bracelets, rings, or whatever in plain view, so you can easily match outfits to accessories without digging through your jewelry box! 

10. Start keeping a notebook (or Word document) of outfit ideas. 

Starting a notebook to hold all of my outfit ideas was the best decision I ever made! Whenever I need a little inspiration, I just open it up and I have tons of ideas that I forgot I had. I also use it to jot down items I haven't worn in a while, so I can start visualizing ideas for them or looking through magazines for inspiration. It's a great way to stay organized and remain aware of all the pieces you own -- and all their potential!

My Favorite Movies to Watch in October

Scary movies are some of my absolute favorites. Every time a new horror movie comes out--no matter how horrible the reviews for it are--Danny and I rent it and watch it. And sometimes, we buy them--even when they're not super great. Sometimes that's the allure, right? That it's so bad, it's good. 

However, every October, I make sure to watch the classics--my absolute favorites. These are them. 

1. Halloweentown

I don't care what anyone says--this is a classic. It's so good! I still identify with Marnie: she is pretty much every girl in the mid- to late-1990s, right? The aesthetic of this movie is perfect childhood nostalgia: the clothes, the colors, the dialogue. It's just so October. 

2. Coraline

This is one of those movies that Danny often says isn't an "October movie"--but I disagree. Coraline is a horror film--it just happens to be for kids. And to be perfectly honest, it is really scary. It's one of those movies that I would not let Forrest watch until he's a certain age! I love the look and feel of this movie as well--it's a very beautiful movie for being animated! 

3. Trick or Treat

If you want a good classic-yet-creative horror film to watch, this is the one. Really. It's so good. When I first watched it with Danny years ago, I was sure I would hate it--but I get excited to watch it every Halloween. This is the one movie I make myself wait to watch until Halloween day: it's the perfect Halloween movie. 

4. Hocus Pocus

Is there a more perfect Halloween movie than Hocus Pocus? I've loved this movie since I was a little kid and for good reason. Bettle Middler is the perfect witch. This movie is the perfect not-too-scary movie for kids on Halloween. Plus, it's fun to sympathize with the parents now that I'm older. 

5. the Saw Series

Yes, Danny and I own all 7 Saw movies. Yes, they get really bad the further into the series we watch. But they're also really good. They are gory, overly complicated, and hilarious at times--but I still find myself jumping at the scares, even after tons of watches. 

6. the Nightmare Before Christmas

Could I get through this list without mentioning the Nightmare Before Christmas? No. Goodness, no. I really thought I would--I told myself to try--but after listing 5, I knew one was missing. It's this one! This is the classic emo kid October and holiday season movie. Who doesn't love singing along to the opening sequence? 

What are your favorite movies to watch in October--spooky or not?