Category Archives: Life

How Girls Pose for Pictures

Last weekend after getting dressed and putting on our faces and going through the, “Girl! You look so skinny!” “OH em gee! I love your hair like that!” “Yes, I’d totally do you in that,” myself and three of my best gal pals did what most girls/young ladies/women do before a night on the town; the kitchen photo shoot. Each girl trying to situate herself with her best side angled at the camera, fixing her hair, sucking in her cheeks. We looked less like four goofy girls who had just downed 6 shots of Maker’s Mark and more like a group of Kappa Chi Phappas posing for the annual chapter photo.

Girls have a variety of “tricks” we think will make ourselves look more attractive in photographs. Some of us are more heinous offenders than others, but we’re all guilty of at least one of these:

The “Kissy Face.” I think most girls think it’s a flirty, you can’t have me kind of thing. For me, I think it makes my cheek bones look AHmazing. It became a pretty serious problem for me, as you can see, the “Kissy Face” made not one, not two, or three, or even four appearances, but FIVE times between April 2008 to May 2009, it showed up as my Facebook profile picture.

So many "Kissy Faces"

The next one I don’t understand at all: the “Squat.” Girls think it’s cute to squat in pictures. Even the short girls. Come on, I’m Yao Ming tall, let me be the one to throw out my back and squat, why you gotta do it too?

This isn't as cute as we thought it would be















Then there’s the recently-most-popular “Elbow Jut.” Maybe angles are sexxxy?

Here I am doing a solo "Elbow Jut" while seated. Skillz

This one’s a little funny, but still cliché. It’s the, “Let’s Make Fun of Awkward Family Photos” pose. I think this one was designed so we could say, “Look! I can be funny and ironic but look cute all at the same time!” This goes for all cute girls planking, owling, whatevering.

One of my all-time favorite pictures. But we're still guilty of the "Let's Make Fun of Awkward Family Photos" pose.

If it were up to me, all girl group photos would look like this:

This is by far the hottest picture in this blog post, in my opinion.

So this weekend, I vow to keep my elbows angleless, to stand up straight, to do no Tebowing in short dresses, and for all that’s good in the world, to not make a single kissy face at the camera. Will you, my fellow women of this great country, take this vow with me?



This year for Thanksgiving, I’m still thankful for all the normal stuff I always am; cheese, naps, the color yellow, that bum that told me I was pretty last year, my boobs, friends, family, blah blah blah.

Well, this year, now that I am in my mid-20’s and sporting my first, terrifying gray hair, I’m thankful for my graceful transition into adulthood. And not only am I accepting it, I’m embracing it.

There really is some fun stuff about becoming a functioning member of society. And without further ado, here is my list of the things that make me feel like a grownup:

  • I have an investment banker that controls my tiny, little 401K that is invested in a stock market that could possibly cease to exist by the time I retire.
  • I HAVE a 401K.
  • I finally have the confidence to ignore the pushy kiosk people at the mall.
  • I no longer strive to be the most famous female beat boxer, but now just to get Justin Timberlake to marry me because I’m a really good person.

    Definitely one of my proudest moments

  • My LinkedIn account has TWO real jobs in employment history.
  • I can type 87 WPM. Or is that text? Either way, it’s grownup.
  • I have business cards with a job title that isn’t: “Babysitter extraordinaire.”
  • My mom steals MY beer now.
  • I don’t want to go to Dupstep shows anymore.

    I wish I could take credit for this....

  • I no longer openly swear in public, all the time.
  • When my mom makes me sandwiches, I ask her to keep the crust on.
  • I don’t kiss random boys at the bars… as often.
  • Last night at Forever 21, I got a headache because the music was too loud.
  • I extreme walk in a more cautious manner.
  • I suck it up and eat the black jelly beans. Can’t let anything go to waste, we are in a financial crisis you know.
  • I think most everything fishnet is tacky.
  • I hate The Walrus.

    To be fair, they do have good drink specials and free pool at happy hour....

Happy Thanksgiving Y’all! Enjoy your Tofurky!

PS. Fun fact. As I was “researching” for this post, I ran a, “The Walrus Boulder” Google image search to find a logo I could deface. Aaaand if you want to find something funny, run the same search and see what the 11th result is….

Mini-Fridge Update

Since posting my Craigslist ad on Tuesday, I have received some pretty awesome responses. AND I have a $free.99 mini-fridge with my name on it, all I have to do is pick it up.

I wanted to share some of the emails/comments that came from the post and my responses to said people:

Email: “why not join the military? Would that not fix the challenges you’re facing? –”

Hi Geoff,

Thanks for the response, I guess. I have a great job actually. But I really like to shop, drink, travel, and go to a lot of concerts, pretty much live outside my means. I don’t think the military would suit my lifestyle. I hear they are pretty strict and I’m not sure how they would feel about me wanting to sleep in on Sundays and stash Miller Lite in a mini-fridge under my bunk.

But again, I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy day to give me, a complete stranger from Craigslist, this sage piece of advice.



Email: “Oh how I wish that I had one because reading that made my morning and I would gladly hook you up! Good luck, Man!”

Hi Redneck-Mensa,

May I start by saying, wow, what a name! Are you a yoga practicing hillbilly? Are you… single perchance? Because I am DOWN.

Also- I’m glad I made your morning! That makes me smile and smiling is pretty awesome.

However, where did you infer from my post that I am a “man?” Is it because I drink cases of beer? I thought the whole spider reference and bringing up the fact that I know what a Rosé is would put me in the girl category. I’m not mad at you, just curious. Because this has happened to me before, people thinking I am a man from the way I write. I need to look into this phenomenon more.

Anways, thanks for the email and that you would give me a mini-fridge if you had an extra.

Peace in the middle east,


Email: “I’ve got one for sale, $50. I can send pics if you’re interested” –

Hi Jesse,

Do you usually troll the “wanted” section, picking out the people who are asking for kind souls to have mercy on them and give them things for free only to shove in their face that you have what they want but are going to charge them a sum they clearly can’t afford? You do realize that there are like 30 $50 mini-fridges in the “for sale” section, right? If I’m competent enough to post an ad on Craigslist, you do suppose I’m competent enough to search in the “for sale” section, yes?

And come on, with an ad like that, you don’t think I would really have to pay for one, did you? Tisk tisk. So no, I don’t want to see any pictures of your not free mini-fridge.

Hugs and kisses,

Gracie comment: “All I can think about this ad is this:”

This is a pretty brilliant concept. I actually had never heard of this generation being called the “Boomerang Generation” until this comment. It makes sense. You go out to the bars, run into someone from high school and ask what they are up to and it’s the same thing over and over again: “Living with the parents, but I got a great lead on a job in Denver! Man, I just want to get down to Denver.”

Again though, I’m not working a menial job. My job is pretty sweet. I just want to live a lifestyle that is way more awesome than my paycheck. But good find, FO SHO and thanks for the education on the Boomerang Generation!

Email: “Hey,

I don’t have a mini-fridge for you but I saw your story and just wanted to say that I just got done living with my parents for 8 months at the age of 26. I swore to never move back in with them since I bounced to college at age 17 but I was unemployed and had little choice. The economy is going down the drain fast and it took me almost a year to find a gig. I had to move half way across the country just to get the job. Things could be far worse than living the the folks. At least you have some beer 🙂



I appreciate you sending me an email. I do realize things could be a lot worse. Shit, I could be living in Nebraska. But no, I get to live in beautiful Colorado, with a roof over my head, still living my kick-ass life with my Devil Kitteh.

Hopefully you didn’t think I was considering my plight of being mini-fridgeless to be comparable to that of unemployment or other true hardship. Because I may have an easily inflated ego and sometimes get caught up in myself, but I know the difference between things that suck and things that REALLY suck.

And you say, “at least I have beer.” Well, without the mini-fridge I probably won’t for much longer! 🙂

Good luck with your endeavors and tally ho!


I got a few others, but these were the good ones. And I have a mini-fridge and someone has already offered to put a bottle of Rosé in it, ooooh snap!

This is my rockin new mini-fridge!

WANTED: Mini-Fridge

So. I just posted an ad on Craigslist. You should all check it out:

Wanted: Mini-fridge to hide beer from mom

The Perils of the Perpetually Pasty

As another summer weekend is quickly approaching full of bikini’s, shorts, and summer dresses, I sink into my usual depression. My iridescent, glow in the dark, you-can-see-my-pores-they’re-so-white, legs come to mind and how I can mask their blinding aura.

I feel like this all comes from 14 years of playing soccer and wearing shin guards and socks up to my knees and all skin cells capable of receiving a tan were killed along with my dreams of Olympic greatness…

I’ve tried tanning beds which give me a nice bronzen glow from the mid-thigh up.

Hungry Tanning Bed

Maybe I need to make more sacrifices to this guy

I’ve tried spray tans and gel tans and cream tans and use-them-over-time-and-eventually-you’ll-get-tan lotion tans and I get streaks, orange, or continued pastiness.

The only thing that has ever seemed to work was a bottle of Sally Hansen “Airbrush Legs, Leg Makeup” that a friend of mine had bought to give her the fake, dramatic look for a Jersey Shore party. It took putting on makeup for legs to finally achieve any sense of tan on my lower extremities. But of course, after a drunken night in a sweaty club and an impromptu trip down to the beach in San Diego, the tan washed away like the lingering respect Italians have for Americans will after the Jersey Shore films their newest season there.

Look at that natural glow I've got going on!

I know I shouldn’t care. I know that there is a certain level of elegance in rocking the fair complexion, Snow White thing, but I do that September-May. Why can’t I have a kick ass head to toe tan just for a few months. I don’t even want to look ethnic, I just don’t want to look sick. Is that too much to ask?!?! Apparently, because come 5:00, I’m stripping off these jeans and throwing on a miniskirt, so you better be clad with dark sunglasses, in case my blinding legs come your way.

Brother for sale, only 50 cents

I love my brother I do. But sometimes I wish other people didn’t like him so much. He might as well be the town hero and it certainly seems like he’s the best friend to everyone. And not only do people like him, they respect him.  With that respect comes a little bit of fear I think. He’s just that cool. Girls want to date him, boys want to be him. By golly he’s the greatest thing since Zach Morris.

Therefore, being his sister and younger one at that, I’ve never had a bigger cockblock in my entire life. So I’m selling him. Only 50 cents. Anyone interested?

I understand times are tough in this economy, therefore I'll entertain all reasonable offers.

Sure, I have had girlfriends straight up tell guys to get lost, complain about wanting to go home, swoop and steal, etcetera etcetera. Those are things I can deal with on occasion, often times even pawn ’em off and keep the attention of the hunky (ok, let’s be real… more like overly skinny) guy I’m talking to.

But as soon as I start talking to a guy that has even heard of my well-rounded and admired brother, it’s over.

The most common one I get is, “look, you’re really hot, I like you. But I couldn’t do that to your brother.” Excuse me, do what exactly to my brother? You weren’t planning on taking me out to dinner then killing me were you? Converting me to a Boston sports fan? Filling my brain full of extreme left wing propaganda? All of which would likely anger and offend my brother. No? Then I’m not catching your drift here buddy boy…

Freshman year of high school, I came into the big bad school naive, boy crazy, 5’9, huge tatas, and weighed all of about a buck-10 and couldn’t understand why NONE of the cute older boys would talk to me. Until a few months in I realized that my nickname was “The Untouchable.” Great. Thanks bro.

Oh and in a freshman year of college story, I had started talking to one of his friends on the football team, who ended up coming over to hang out at my dorm. We didn’t hook up, we didn’t date, nothing. But the kid pretty much made me swear on my future devil kitteh’s soul that I wouldn’t tell anybody that we mutually knew that we hung out for fear of it getting back to the brother.

For the few that crossed the line, I’m guessing they regret it. And they basically all suck up to King Brother in order to remain in good graces and not lose their head. And/or see how long it can remain a secret. HA! I tell him everything, suckers!

Funny thing about my brother though and why I forgive him for being so well liked, he loves me no matter what, doesn’t judge me for my decisions. It’s a pretty rad deal.

Soooo, this is kind of awkward. But he’s not really for sale. I should probably go delete my craigslist ad now.

Aaaand he was a professional model when he was 6. I'll clearly always be the dark horse of the family...

Gracie’s Guide to Being Single: How to be NOT single

I know, this is the post that you all have been waiting for. Biting your nails in anticipation. Losing sleep at night, just praying that tomorrow, TOMORROW will finally be the day that I post the secret. THE secret to companionship, built in plans for Sunday evenings, and a lifetime of we-dom, “Oh yes, WE just love Glee.” and “Oh sorry, WE are busy on Saturday night.”

Devil Kitteh is dying with anticipation....

Well folks, here it is:

Learn to shut your mouth and exponentially lower your standards and expectations.

Yep, it’s as simple as that. You’re welcome.

I heard Leroy is single