Monthly Archives: April 2012

A Snuggie For My Face…(huh?)

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This weekend I explored a land unknown. I’ve always wanted to go to Italy, but alas, I took a trip somewhere far more foreign (and apparently expensive).

The makeup store
Sigh, makeup.

Okay, so if you haven’t already heard, along with having a severe phobia toward anything remotely sharky (this includes but is not limited to: the “JAWS” ride at Universal Studios, all of Shark Week, and Bruce, the cartoon shark in Finding Nemo),  I also have a prominent aversion to anything that involves makeup, because I can’t apply it without directly looking like The Joker…except for the time that I WAS The Joker for Halloween. Pure brilliance, I tell you!

For high school junior prom, my friends had to practically pick me up and carry me by my arms and legs to the Clinique counter to have my make up done, because I was totally comfortable wearing my doctor pepper flavored lip smackers chap stick and “THAT…IS… ALL!”

To make a long story filled with protesting and heel dragging short, I ended up looking like Poison Ivy from the 1997 movie Batman And Robin. Uma Therman rocked the fluorescent green eye shadow with her neon lycra body suit. I did NOT rock the look. I don’t know what the woman at the counter was thinking matching my eye shadow to my beautiful mint green mermaid style prom dress, but I was one green brush stroke away from looking like Oscar the Grouch.

It was bad, guys. REALLY bad.

My mom didn’t allow make up all through middle school, so while my teenybopper friends were stealing their mother’s lips stick, I was playing basketball, volleyball, and running track.

I also had a role in the middle school showing of the play “Grease.”
Move over, Olivia Newton-John.

By the time high school surfaced, I was so immersed in sports and trying not to fail out of chemistry that I didn’t bother with learning how to apply make up. Then college rolled around, and again, I didn’t bother. My getting ready routine consisted of putting on face moisturizer and dancing around to Lil’ John. Not much has changed…Wait, what?

Now I’m 24, being mistaken for a fourteen year old, and I still don’t really understand make up.

I get a little freaked out when I watch girls apply make up in the stuffy bathroom of the bar my friends and I frequent at. The thoughts in my head  usually run along the lines of:

Isn’t that bad for your skin? That MUST be really bad for your face.

It is a THOUSAND degrees in this bar. That would be like somebody forcing me into a Snuggie on a 95 degree day.

Does it melt off?

We’re going to get a bit personal for a minute. We’re going to talk about skin. Not scandalously, I mean, the skin that covers my face. I had a revelation a few days ago. I have been blessed with great skin. My mother and father both have perfect complexions, which luckily, I inherited. However, a few weeks ago I had one little bump that was bothering me. I understand that having one little bump on my left cheek bone isn’t REALLY a big issue, but I just didn’t like it. I do not enjoy when things appear on my skin that I know should not be there. I went to the CVS store down the street from my apartment and after an agonizing half hour roaming through halls of powder and goo, I grabbed the CoverGirl NatureLuxe foundation.

Let me just say:
I like nature.
Nature is good.
Hi, I am an idiot.

Blake and I met some friends out for a drink. Afterward, I came home, washed my face, and went to sleep. When I woke up in the morning, I had these little bumps all along my cheek bones spreading up toward my temple. I freaked out, scrubbed my face, freaked out some more, threw away the makeup that caused said allergic reaction, and washed my face again. I may have used colorful language. I stayed inside, avoided human interaction, and the bumps cleared up within two days.

My theory is that my skin is so used to not having make up put on it, that choosing crappy drug store make up was equivalent to feeding a lifelong vegetarian a quarter pounder from McDonalds.

Flash forward three weeks and Blake and I have booked a spontaneous trip to Florida. We’ve planned a few dressy nights out, because both of us having five nights off in a row is unheard of. We have quite literally traveled the world together, but when Blake and I decide to get all international up in hurr, we’re backpacking/road tripping/exploring, so makeup is never a priority. I decided it would be fun to learn how to apply makeup properly, so when we are on vacation, I can…I don’t know…look fancy without my face having an overnight temper tantrum.

The first thing I did was take a stroll to the swanky make up store downtown. What should be every female 20 something’s dream is my nightmare. The store was filled with a lot of shiny black counter tops, giant mirrors, bright light bulbs, and high end creams, powders, and colored eye stick thingys. Deliriously, I tried my best to fit in by sparking up a conversation with the shop manager about the stacks of Essie nail polish they had on display. I’m assuming it was my la-di-da stroll, uncomfortable demeanor, and my “deer caught in headlights” eye contact that gave me away. She could tell that I was new to this.

She sat me down in a chair and asked what I was looking for. I told her that I wanted to look naturally put together, but not clownish. She matched colors to my eyes, skin tones, music preferences, the car I drive, my favorite movies, and favorite foods. She then educated me on a proper make up routine for somebody like me who crawls in her shell at the sight of eye liner. (let’s be honest, it looks like a torture device. In my world pencils are for paper). I may as well have taken notes on a clip board. I can only equate this experience to teaching a six year old how to read…Or teaching me how to do calculus. Same idea, a slow process.

What the HECK is primer? Isn’t that for paint? Doesn’t that go on walls? Is this what it’s like to be a guy? Okayyy, Carley. Deep breaths. Chill out. I was a little bit overwhelmed by the end of it, but I must admit, she did a great job of helping me to look fancier with as few products as humanly possible.  I took my new dolled up look home and felt motivated to put my hard earned paycheck to good use. I hopped on my computer and opened approximately seven different pages. Smashbox, Tarte, Sephora, Laura Mercier, NARS, and Benefit, OH MY!

These are the products I ended up settling for. Some of them I purchased at the store, and some of them I purchased online.

A cheek stain trio by Tarte:

Also from Tarte: A set of limited edition Amazonian clay eye shadow sticks:

Smashbox photo finish primer (disclaimer, it’s green, but rest assured it does not leave my skin looking Ninja Turtleish):

Nude lipstick by Mac:

Origins Nude and Improved light weight foundation, which I’ll probably end up mixing with my moisturizer because I’m still a little scared of it:

 

At the end of my make up embargo, I decided to purchase something I was a bit more familiar with. Last month I attended a Boston blogging event, and one of the gifts in the swag bag was a cleansing bar by Indie Lee. I have been accustomed with Indie Lee’s natural face and body products for quite some time, so you can imagine my excitement. The Carrot French Clay Cleansing Bar from the swag bag was brilliant, so last night I ordered three more cleansing bars in Carrot French Clay, Lemongrass, and Tea Tree Aloe . The great thing about these is that they can be used on your face! If you’re like me, and you have super sensitive skin, this is a big deal.

You can check out Indie Lee’s cleansing bars and other great natural products here!

Last but not least…
(if you’ve managed to bear with me thus far)

While endeavoring through Etsy to cool down from my make up extravaganza  the other night (I’m not going to lie, I thought I was going to need a paper bag to breathe into) I came across an Etsy shop owner who hand makes the most PRECIOUS make up bags I’ve ever seen. Do you KNOW how much I LOVE Etsy? I am always stoked to support local or small businesses. I ordered one of her adorable makeup bags for myself and THEN I contacted the shop owner to see if she would be interested in partnering with Findingravity to bring you awesome folks THE MAY GIVEAWAY! *Golf clap*

Working with small brands always feels more personal, and she was so generous and easy to communicate with. Stay tuned because later in the week I am going to be announcing the official giveaway guidelines, who this awesome shop owner is, and what steps you have to take to be a part of it.

If I hadn’t already paid money and ordered one for myself, I’d be brainstorming ways to rig the giveaway so that I could selfishly end up winning it for myself.

WINNING!

Inspiration Adventure

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Sometimes it’s hard to find inspiration. I’ve been struggling with finding inspiration with my camera for a few weeks. I’ve previously stated that I LOVE photographing people (example), but I’ve been working on finding inspiration in my surroundings. I know it seems incongruous that inspiration is something that has to be worked at. Perhaps it’s not something that must be worked at, but rather worked FOR. In other words, I wish I could say that every time I feel inspired, I am either sitting in the warm sand on a tropical beach, or I am in the presence of phenomenal artists. It simply is not the case. Sometimes I go days without feeling inspired, even if I am surrounded by beauty.

Last night,  I stepped out of my car and noticed that it was that magical time of the day. The golden hours. I had about two hours until sunset to work with and it just so happened that my camera was sitting on the passenger seat of my car. I didn’t know what exactly I was hoping to take pictures of, but I knew that I wanted to focus on interesting textures, colors, and arrangements.

I started out small, knowing I had been on the inspirational chopping block for days. I worked my way around my driveway, and then through my backyard. Soon I decided it was time for a change up. I threw my bag inside my apartment, grabbed one of Blake's cozy flannels from our closet, locked the door, and hopped back in my car. Without having a clear idea of where I was going, I decided to just drive.

 

I seldom get alone time, so the two hour adventure I had with my camera was a cleansing breath of fresh air. Whether you are on vacation, hanging out in your home town, or kicking it around the house, I urge you all to find time this week to write about, photograph, or just appreciate the little things that surround you.

Just A Bunch Of Words

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It is no secret that I lead a musically charged life. Some days, I have a better conversation with my guitar than I possibly could with any human. Looking back, the only real constant in my life that has truly remained aside from change, is music.

I came across a tweet today that resonated with me.



Ron Pope is a musician, and if you haven’t already heard his music, I can say without reservation that he writes passionately, honestly, and unapologetically. Not only is he a talented musician, but if you’ve ever been to one of his shows, you can tell that he is a genuine person. He manages to remain elemental to the core reasons he began his career as a musician, yet dynamically displays his talents for the world to hear. He is kind to his fans, humble in the face of the spotlight, and has yet to turn into the fame monster that many musicians in today’s music industry fall victim to.

Seven months ago, I entered The Middle East in Boston. Blake had surprised me with tickets to a sold out Ron Pope Show for our one year anniversary. I stood, Jack and coke in hand, five rows back from a stage so small, that you couldn’t do a cartwheel on it.  Only a microphone, a piano, and a stool rested on the stage. The way music should be.

The opening act was Alexis Babini, a previous attendant of Berklee College of Music. He sat comfortably on stage, free of a guitar strap, with a six string acoustic resting over his right knee and a scarf draped loosely around his neck. Between songs he spoke to the audience, cracked jokes, and spent a few minutes teaching us one of his new songs so that we could sing the chorus with him. After a personal and charming performance, his set ended and he exited the stage to meet his fans by the merchandise table.

It was also at this time that my Jack and coke had miraculously emptied. I made my way to the bar for one more drink, when a swarm of teenage girls, who couldn’t possibly have been any older than eighteen, crowded the merch table in front of the bar. I could have sworn it was a twenty one plus show, but I would also be lying if I said that I didn’t have a fake ID during my freshmen year of college.

Guilty as charged.

“Hey, would you mind taking a picture for us?” One of girls asked asked me, while forcing a camera into my hands before I had time to answer.
“I’d be delighted to.” I counted down from three, told the girls to say cheese, and returned to my Jack and coke mission after snapping two or three pictures for the star struck teens. By the time I had ordered my drink, Alexis stood alone at his table.

“So many girls…That must be tough.” I joked.
“Definitely,” he laughed. “Who are you here to see?”
“Ron Pope.” I answered.
“Ron’s great! We’ve played together for a long time. So where are you from?”
“New Hampshire.”
“So you drove all the way down here to watch him perform?”
“I sure did. It’s only about an hour away with traffic.”
“That’s dedication. How long have you been listening to Ron Pope’s music?” Alexis asked.
“A while. I fell in love to Ron Pope.”
“I’m intrigued. Tell me more.” This caught me off guard. It was one of those times where I had said something I wasn’t even aware of. Inexplicable word vomit. I hadn’t thought to say something else. I could have said two years, and ended there. I humored him regardless. Ron Pope wasn’t coming out for another twenty minutes and I had always liked conversing with new people, so I told Alexis Babini my story without reservation that me might think I was absolutely crazy.

After all, he HAD asked.

In December of 2010, Blake and I had been living in separate countries for three months, and over Christmas, Blake hopped on a plane to visit me in America. We planned an impromptu three day visit to New York City, a first for both of us. We stayed in a lavish hotel on Broadway, which was far more expensive than anything either of us could realistically afford, full of modern square furniture, open concept rooms, and fancy overhead lighting. Of course, by nature we are not fancy people, and at one o’clock in the morning, we ventured through the city that never sleeps for some pizza. Without knowing our surroundings, we picked what may have been the grimiest, greasiest pizza joint in all of New York City.

We brought the pizza back to the hotel, and we laughed, conversed, and reminisced for hours over questionable slices of pizza. We called it a night around 3am, but not before plugging my iPod in and putting a mix on shuffle that I usually fall asleep to. Blake had always known and appreciated my love of music, and for months had been begging me to sing. I’d played for him countless times, but as something I’d been doing since a young age, I considered singing a more private affair.  The only person I’d ever really sung with was my mother. As we lay silently in our bed in our luxurious New York City suite, with the busy traffic bustling by even at three in the morning, “You’re The Reason I Come Home” by Ron Pope began playing through the speakers. Without hesitating, or considering the obvious that I was not in fact alone in the comfort of my room with my guitar and a cup of tea,  I began singing the words to the song out loud.

It was in that simple, raw, and unintentional moment, where I realized exactly what my comfort levels were. It was the first time in my life that they truly held no boundaries. It was then that I knew I was in deep.

After I had told this artist I had never heard of, and more importantly, this human being I’d never met, my story, he thanked me. It’s not very often musicians have the chance to talk face to face with their listeners. Alexis shook my hand and told me that he couldn’t wait to tell Ron my story. Whether he did or did not does not matter to me. Art isn’t about how many people hear your story; it’s about having the courage to share it in the first place. Having the chance to stand face to face with a fellow artist, writer, and music lover was priceless.

Ron, people will always find something to complain about, some reason to knock you off of your platform. They will search for ways to make you feel like you are not worthy of the support that people give you. They will analyze you, ridicule you, and mock you over cheap beer and chicken fingers.  Once they’ve made amends with the fact that the appetizers they eat at the local sports bar on their lunch break are more appetizing than their own lives, they will move on. You are accomplishing something that they never will. When they return to their sad little lives, you will continue to write words and music that move people.

There is no bell curve to Ron Pope’s music; no average variable which is can be measured against. When you hear his music, if you have experienced any strong human emotion toward anything in your life, you will connect to it.

If you can’t, then he’s right. You aren’t listening very closely.

“Paper doll silhouettes,
Fingertips on window glass;
The street’s asleep,
So I breathe you in deep.

The tragedies of chemistry,
People dream of what you and me
Have found…

Effortlessly.

You’re the reason I come home.”

Professional Draw Something Ninja

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Every once in a while this thing happens, where it’s 9:30 at night and I’ve been working on writing the same article for three hours, because our power went out. I then light enough candles to compete with the Aurora Borealis. I am more uncoordinated in the dark than a dizzy six year old playing pin the tail on the donkey, so naturally this becomes a severe fire hazard. My loving boyfriend is swearing at his computer in our tiny kitchen, while I am using some polite variance of @#&!$(@ at my computer in our tiny living room. I look out the window and notice that the car dealership down the street has power, as do all of the street lights. Blake develops the notion that between our apartment and the girls next door, we simply had too much crap running. I develop the notion that somebody has hacked into our basement, shut out power off, and is now planning to steal our crock pot because it’s the only thing in our apartment worth any value.

Clearly,  I’ve been watching too many crime shows.

Or maybe it was the squirrels again.

I think I lost track of what my initial point was.

Either way, last night I was awake until 1:00 am writing, rewriting, and revising drafts. By the time I was finally finished, Blake had already gone to bed, and I was exhausted. Of course, due to the fact that I had put on a pot of coffee at 8:00pm when the power came back on (when I had originally planned to be finished writing my articles) I could not actually fall asleep.

The things I did instead of sleeping by 1am consisted of:
-Eating an artichoke. For real, that was the first thing I accomplished after closing my computer.
-Tweeting about what a poor decision drinking coffee before bed was
-Watching Friends
-Thinking about new blog topics, all of which I’ve since forgotten, and none of which were probably any good
-Re-revising in my head the piece that I had already revised and sent in for publication
-Being a boss at draw something

In the midst of my frustrated, fatigued, and zombie state of mind, I had a moment of thankfulness that I would like to share with all of you awesome people out there who may have recently engaged in a night that was in some way chaotically similar to the one I experienced last night.

Alriiiiight, so MAYBE your power didn’t go out and you didn’t almost set your desk ablaze with tea lights, but you might have been awake at 1:00 am doing all sorts of ridiculous things that did not resemble sleeping in any way, shape, or form.

I may be exhausted on a daily basis, but I am so thankful, because I am doing what I love.

I’m not getting paid large sums of “dolla-dolla bills y’all” for it, yet every time that a piece of my work is officially published, it pays off. I’m in the middle of my hustle, right where I’m supposed to be at twenty four years old, and so lucky to have the opportunities and abilities to reach people through writing.

So every once in a while this thing happens, and it usually has nothing to do with trapping myself in a dark, powerless house, in fear that a man wearing the scream mask has shut off my power. It has to do with the fact that I (sometimes) realize that I am in the right place, and I know that I will (someday) get wherever I’m meant to be next, with my writing right beside me…or right in front of me for that matter. For now, I have a feeling that sitting at my desk at 1:00 in the morning with my tired eyes almost falling out of my sockets, surrounded by first drafts, second drafts, and yep…you guessed it… THIRD drafts, is right where I am supposed to be.

In a world where so many people have forced themselves into occupations that make them miserable, I have made a life goal out of never letting what I love feel like work that I hate.

In other news, I am also a self proclaimed ninja at Draw Something. I’m considering creating an occupation that revolves around professionally playing this game on my iPhone. I should be on the X-factor. Let me know when they have open casting calls. I’m there.


Don’t even pretend that this doesn’t look like New York City. That is either a green King Kong, Godzilla, or the Statue Of Liberty. Either way, it’s definitely in NYC.

Dub step. Enough said.

Anti Bullying Link Up Submissions for the FG Link Up!

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I know I said that I would have this completed by Friday, but poor Blake broke his nose a week ago and went to the Doctor yesterday to have it reset. By 6:00 at night I came down with a horrible headache, so we both set up camp on the couch last night and watched “The Hangover.” Apologies to anybody who follows me on Twitter, who was subjected to hilarious quotes from the movie all night, but Allen is one of my favorite movie characters OF ALL TIME.

From 2:00-4:30 today, I sat in a local coffee shop and reread all of the submissions for the Anti Bullying link up. Honestly, I expected two or three people to participate, but every day for the past week I’ve received submissions! A few of them had me tearing up (publicly) and I was able to relate in one way or another to all of your stories. It is my greatest hope that somebody out there will stumble upon your posts and also relate to them

It’s official, I have the COOLEST readers in the world!
We should all be making up secret handshakes.

I did my best to keep up with tweeting about the submissions all week, and sifted through my comments and emails to make sure that I included everybody’s blog posts on anti bullying. If for some reason you joined the link up, and I missed your submission below, send me a virtual slap to remind me about your submission.

Seriously, if I missed you, shoot me an email with the link to your blog post.

If you would STILL like to participate, that’s totally cool. Everybody is welcome.  Maybe you were busy moonlighting as a superhero. I get it. Saving the world sometimes surpasses blogging. Maybe you wanted to wait until you could read other people’s awesome submissions before feeling inspired to write your own. Either way, write about your experiences or your thoughts on why spreading the message of anti bullying is so important, grab the button for the campaign on the bottom of the original anti bullying post, and I’ll be happy to add you to the link up.

If you didn’t participate, I wholeheartedly urge you to read some of the stories written by those who did. Perhaps their bravery and openness will inspire you to join the movement. They wrote about everything from personal experiences with bullying to watching their loved ones becoming victims to bullying. Some of them are past bullies who have new views on their actions, and some of them found creative ways to share their message with us.

I hope everybody has a fantastic weekend, and keep spreading this positive message. Together, we can make a change!


http://www.losingtheshadow.com/2012/04/speaking-up.html
 Losing The Shadow wrote, bravely, about her experiences being bullied through puberty. Nobody should ever have to hear the things that were said to her, or go through the things that she went through.


http://nikilee30.wordpress.com/2012/04/12/bullying/
 Nikilee writes about being on the outskirts of the popular crowd, and still witnessing and experiencing bullying. Her post proves that bullying effects every group of people. She has worked on student placements and volunteered in schools, and has seen the same type of bullying that I have seen working in schools as an English teacher.


http://kayjer.com/2012/04/stand-up-against-bullying/
 Kayjer was a tomboy growing up (hollerrr, girl! I feel you. Elastic ankle sweatpants fo’ life…Orrr was that just me?) She struggled with dental problems and was harassed all through junior high school. Read her story about discovering her identity and sense of self in the midst of being bullied.


http://lolosofocused.wordpress.com/2012/04/14/sticks-and-stones-can-break-my-bones/
 Lolosofocused not only talks about the true severity of body image harassment from her own experiences, but confesses to bullying and not putting a stop to it. This type of self assessment and honesty is crucial to stopping the bullying plague.


http://missfoureyes.wordpress.com/2012/04/15/anti-bullying-link-up/
 Missfoureyes discusses her own personal experiences with being bullied by the popular crowd, and tells the story of a girl who was stripped down to her underwear and publicly laughed at. These instances of bullying are beyond inappropriate. She also created a pretty sweet anti bullying visual!


http://reesubmerged.wordpress.com/2012/04/16/romantic-bullying-a-part-of-the-anti-bullying-link-up/
 Resubmerged talks about how her experiences with romantic bullying have altered the way that she views relationships as an adult. Her post shows that bullying affects its victims long past graduation day.


http://meetkristenlavallee.wordpress.com/2012/04/15/grey-skies-are-gonna-clear-up-put-on-a-happy-face
 Kristen discusses her experiences being bullied, and then being punished by the teachers who were supposed to be protecting her. It became so bad that she begged her mother to let her change schools.


http://elgieonthebus.wordpress.com/2012/04/16/bullying/
 Elgie writes an extremely empowering message to anybody who has been bullied. Remember, you are NOT worthless, and you are NOT alone.


http://clownonfire.wordpress.com/2012/04/16/bullying/
  Le Clown’s story about his son being bullied is both endearing and an important lesson in listening to your children. Parents, take notice. Being open, listening, and genuinely caring about what your children are experiencing is SO important.


http://danceinrain.wordpress.com/2012/04/20/bullying-why-its-important-to-take-a-stand/
 Lists the a few ways that sharing your bullying story can save a life!


http://huntingforbliss.wordpress.com/2012/03/31/letters-to-my-hypothetical-child-part-one/
 Another participant who displays the immense amount of strength and understanding that every parent should have. Listening to your children is one of the most important keys to picking up whether or not they are being bullied.


http://theartistryofthebipolarbrain.wordpress.com/2012/04/16/inspirational-triggers/
  This blogger discusses that bullies and abusers isolate their victims to make them suffer, and ridicule them to make them feel worthless.


http://25andfly.wordpress.com/2012/04/17/956/
 Becca from 25toFly opens up about watching her close friend being cyber bullied. Cyber bullying is every bit as damaging as face to face bullying.


http://tobefrankblog.wordpress.com/2012/04/18/bullying-is-wron/
 Frankie’s heartbreaking story of being “dumped” by her friends shows us that bullying starts at a young age. Standing by and allowing bullying to take places is just as ostracizing as being the one who orchestrates the bullying.


http://afirstimpressionblog.com/2012/04/18/taking-a-stand/
 Jamie of A First Impression participated in a completely unique (and totally kick butt) way. Jamie is going to school to be a school counselor, and came together with her classmates to illustrate a message for her future students. Thanks for being so creative, Jamie!


http://dorkydivaduo.wordpress.com/2012/04/18/bloggers-making-the-world-a-better-place/
 A classmate of Jamie’s who also participated in creatively spreading the message of anti bullying.


http://fatheadfollies.com/2012/04/19/bully-for-you/
 Fatheadfollies talks about the different ways that she and her husband deal with bullies, having come from different backgrounds.


http://discoveriesinaletterbox.wordpress.com/2012/04/17/cornered-and-criticized/
 Discoveries in a Letterbox discusses the importance of accepting different tastes, and not bullying those who like different things than you do. Hipsters, UNITE, liking something before someone else does not mean you’re cooler ;) but for serious, we all have different tastes, and that is a beautiful thing.

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“I Need You So Much Closer…”

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My parents divorced when I was five, or maybe four? Maybe I was six. Does it matter? I was young enough to still need somebody to hold my hand while crossing the street, yet old enough to remember crying out for Daddy when I realized he wasn’t coming home to kiss me goodnight. I was young enough to still need someone to tell me to eat my veggies, and I was old enough to…well…still need someone to tell me to eat my veggies.

I’m a paragraph into this post, and I’m already crying. I suppose that’s what this blog is all about, subjecting myself to ultimate public vulnerability so that somebody out there reading this will know they are not alone, but boy, is it hard sometimes. I’ll type a sentence, erase it thinking it makes me sound weak, and retype it exactly as it was, because being strong doesn’t mean trying to erase how you’re feeling in hopes that nobody will see you stumbling.

Life is full of slips and stumbles, but if you have the right mindset, it’s also about getting back up.

If you’ve been with me through 10 things I learned from my mom AND dad (they are two very different posts, and probably two of my favorite pieces I’ve ever written) you know that I am extremely fortunate to have had two loving parents, who may have had irreconcilable differences which made them unsuitable partners, but who were also able to put their differences aside when it came to raising their child.

Sometimes it was still messy, and painful, and confusing as all hell, because divorce goes against everything a child is supposed to understand. As functioning “adults” in society, we may not still emotionally grasp divorce, but to some degree, we can wrap out minds around the concept. In a child’s eyes watching their parents, the people that created them, explain that they just don’t love each other and that they just can’t forgive each other anymore, doesn’t register.

Blake and I have differences. For example, it drives me crazy when Blake leaves his clothes on the bathroom floor in the morning, and it drives Blake crazy when I leave the milk out. These are things that can be dealt with. In other words, they aren’t deal breakers. I have accepted that no matter how many laundry baskets I buy him, his clothes will probably still end up on the bathroom floor before he takes a shower, and no matter how close the fridge is to the counter, that very counter is probably where the milk is going to end up.

We also have deeper differences. I know it seems like Blake and I live in a Nicholas Sparks novel because we lived in different countries, traveled all over the world to be with each other when the odds were against us, and now this gorgeous Australian with an accent to die for has moved across oceans to be with me. It’s a beautiful story, but it can also be quite a struggle. We are talking two people who have grown up in completely different cultures. We are talking two people whose friends and families live in opposite hemispheres. Even though we are together, the distance always lingers, and figuring out which country we should be living and working in is far from easy. We made a promise that no matter what challenges life presented us with, we would never again go 10 months apart. Somebody is always making sacrifices. I spent a year and a half bouncing back and forth between Australia and America, studying abroad and then returning to teach. Blake has now spent a year and a half away from his loved ones. Finding long term balance is crucial and nearly impossible at the same time.

Blake is one of the most caring people I’ve ever met, raised by two parents who were clearly put on this earth to raise him and his two siblings, because from what I (along with everybody on this side of the world who has met Blake) can tell, he is gentle, kind, and everything that anybody would ever hope to find in the person they plan to spend the rest of their lives with. Blake is understanding, communicative, and at times even overly concerned with my well being, and that is probably the way he was raised. I wouldn’t change it for all the money in the world. If you had offered me that record breaking power ball ticket a few weeks ago in exchange for Blake’s thoughtfulness, without hesitation, I would say thanks but no thanks. Every time.

From a young age, when my parents were taking care of my sick brother, both working full time jobs, and were in the thick of their divorce, I learned how to negotiate my way around my own brain without interruption. I learned to think, feel, and figure things out for myself.

I had independence memorized before most children were learning to read.

I had letting go memorized before most children were learning to hold on.

Experiencing divorce and losing a sibling has taught me to be a self starter and a self solver. Sometimes, I just need solitude. I just need silence. I don’t want suggestions. I don’t want someone to force feed me answers, even if it appears that I’m searching for them. I want to figure things out inside my own head without any outside influence. This is the way that I learned to think. This is the way I sometimes STILL think. When I am hurting, I want to be left alone long enough to make peace with the struggle. Irrationally, I consider it patronizing when others try to help me, as if they don’t believe that I can work it out on my own, like some foolish algebraic equation.

When Blake is hurting or feeling lonely, I wrap my arms around him. I offer him encouraging words and together, we come up with a plan of attack to whatever challenge he’s facing. We map out pros and cons. We analyze the beast from every angle, and we find a solution.

This is where that whole balance thing I was talking about comes into play. The way I solve my problems is full of I’s and Me’s, and the way Blake solves his problems is full of we’s. Am I some selfish monster who hasn’t yet learned that being in a relationship means being one half of a whole? God, I hope not. I try to incorporate kindness and patience into every aspect of my life, from acknowledging the homeless and volunteering when I can, to practicing forgiveness and second chances. While I am sitting here circumnavigating my thoughts, Blake is trying to figure out all of the ways he can help, all the career solutions he can conjure, and all of the advice he can summon to end whatever hurt I’m feeling.

I pray every day, EVERY day, that I will never have to go through what my parents went through or what so many of my friends’ parents went through with divorce. Next to being trapped in a cage underwater with a great white shark dreaming of various ways to tear me apart, divorce is one of my biggest fears. Sometimes, Blake will hold me, and I’ll feel so complete that I can’t imagine not having this wholeness. I’m so lucky to have found that which so many people go their whole lives without. I catch myself looking at Blake when he’s sleeping, or concentrating on something, and I think oh my God, he’s actually perfect.

But here’s the thing, he’s not, and neither am I.

All I can do at the end of the day is hope that he understands that when I’m fighting his help, I need it the most.

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Smoothiecapades

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After a gorgeous day in the sun yesterday (moronically without SPF, which I happen to take very seriously, and did not have with me) I made the most delicious smoothie I’ve ever had.

Yes, ever.

Move over FroYo, there’s a new smoothie ninja in town.

I had to actually go to the FroYo website to make sure that I had the right product, because for all I know, one minute I’m talking about smoothies and the next minute I’m bragging about competing with some sort of 80′s afro wig service. I was immediately bombarded by cheesy music with a lot of record scratching. Does anyone else share my aversion to blogs or websites playing their own music? If I’m rocking out to Run DMC, how am I supposed to enjoy the moment if suddenly Run DMC becomes remixed with the Kenny G on your website’s media player

It gets tricky,  tricky, tricky.

Or you end up with something like this…



Anyway, I’m going to share my smoothiecapades (made up word…errr?) with you, in a completely unofficial, non technical manner. When I cook, bake, and create masterpieces on my ceiling with kitchen condiments that perfectly replicate The Sistine Chapel, I tend to improvise measurements. If you ask me what a divided tablespoon is, I won’t be able to tell you. Don’t ask.

For these smoothies, I used all organic ingredients, because that’s how I roll.

1 to 1 1/2 cups of chopped up strawberries
1-2 whole mangos, make sure they are ripe. I realize this is a total pain, because mangos take a gazillion years to ripen. If you’re impatient, you can always buy frozen mangos and substitute Goya mango nectar.
1 cup of orange juice
1 Whole grapefruit
1/2 a banana, feel free to feed the other half to the monkey child that live in your jungle house.
1 cup of yogurt, I used organic Stonyfield, but Greek yogurt is also tasty!
1 cup of ice (which I did not have, because I don’t have ice trays. Sometimes when it comes down to sweet bar stools, and ice trays, you have to make sacrifices)
Agave nectar.

Use a blender (I have this really great two serving blender that my mom gave me when I moved into my apartment) and combine all ingredients. Add more or less of whatever your little heart desires. When dealing with the grapefruit, I squeezed the juice out of the grapefruit first, and then cut the actual fruit part up. What can I say? I like things grapefruity.

Blend together, pour into a glass, garnish with a strawberry ’cause you fancy huh?
Drizzle with a little extra agave if you have a sweet tooth.

Enjoy!
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We’re all winners in REAL life.

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Happy Giveaway Games! As many of you know, today was the Not Another Love Story (N.A.L.S.) giveaway! I would like to first say thank you to everybody who entered! I loved seeing all of the tweets and Facebook chatter about the giveaway, and because this one was so successful, I will DEFINITELY be holding another one. I would also like to say thank you to the amazing companies who sponsored this giveaway. This giveaway could not have been as successful and fun to host as it was, had it not been for you ladies. Ashley and Melissa, if I could personally give you both fist bumps into explosions I would. Not your thing? We could get manicures and talk about Phil Phillips on American Idol. No? Daaaang, I’m running out of options.

I decided to honor The Hunger Games (after all, one of the sweet prizes in the giveaway was an 8×10 Hunger Games print from Ashley’s shop, After Nine To Five Decor).

Instead of plugging all of the names into an online generator/rafflecopter/zombie, I hand wrote (yes, like, with a pen and paper, old school) EACH name on a piece of paper, cut them up, folded them, and put them into a bowl. I’ve been tracking the names and tweets since the giveaway started, to be sure that I didn’t miss anybody, so if you’re sitting there contemplating the possibility of human error…STOP IT!

I was meticulous and maybe even a little neurotic careful about making sure that everybody who was kind enough to participate, was included. Boom.

 

 

The winner of the 8×10 Hunger Games print was:

 


Equally as awesome and exciting, the winner of the $25 voucher for Melissa’s services over at Cherry On Top Blog Designs (the Picasso behind my beautiful blog design) was:

I blurred out the last names “to preserve identities” like a boss pro. I have already contacted both of the winners, whose last names I DO actually know. So if your name is Laura or Danielle, and you’re thinking I could totally trick this girl into thinking that I’m the winner because MY name is also Laura or Danielle, nice try!

Congrats to both of the winners!

I hope everyone continues to have a great weekend, and I hope wherever you are, it was as sunny there as it was here today. I wore a maxi dress today. I also wore sunscreen. I also did some yard work and drank a fresh smoothie. I ALSO climbed a palm tree and cracked open fresh coconuts with my bare hands. These are all signs that it was over 70 degrees. That last one MAY have been a lie.

BOO YA!

Don’t forget to join the Findingravity Anti Bullying Link up! 
Click that link to for details and to find out how you can get involved.
Sending everybody peace, love, and positive vibes.

OH YEAH, Blake broke his nose playing rugby today. I’ve been trying to think of funny/creative/embarrassing explanations  that I can tell people when Blake is not around to otherwise defend himself, so if anyone has any suggestions, I’m all ears. In all seriousness, he’s doing okay, just a little puffy and bruised :)

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Fridays make me happy. Braces do not.

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Hello beautiful people!

There are some really exciting things going on this weekend and into next week!

First order of business: I guest write for a website called AimingLow, and this week I am being featured TWICE ON THE SAME DAY in the Miss Unlimited section. Can I get a boo ya?

The first piece that has been published is about the awkwardness that always seems to tag along when you have braces. I would have thought my parents were forcing the misery of braces upon me as a sick joke, had I not watched them fork out thousands of dollars for them.

AimingLow published piece #1 “No Really–Braces Make You Cooler”

I’m going to do something I’ve never done before, EVER. My father has what I like to call “the hall of shame” at his house. It is where, wall to wall, he has plastered embarrassing school pictures and other various photos of my youth which could have been threatening to any potential relationships, had they seen them prior to dating me. I’m so lucky I met Blake in another country, and that we had already known each other for a year and a half before he saw these pictures.

Taken straight from the hall of shame, I present you with a photo of middle school Carley with braces.

BRACE YO’ SELF! (See what I did there?)


OOOOKAY…….Clearly you’re laughing as much as Blake did when I showed him this picture last night. The fool practically spat his powerade out all over my computer screen. Let’s deconstruct this picture.

The braces—They are pink and blue. Why? I’m telling you, because my parents thought this was all very comical and wanted to see me suffer later on in life.

The “HAY GIRL HAYYY” fake smile—I actually have no words.

The blue and green collared rugby shirt—It’s from Abercrombie. I BEGGED my mother to buy me this shirt, because all the kids in 7th grade had them. Bad choice mom. Attention moms, DO NOT under any circumstance give in when your children beg you for bad fashion choices. They will thank you for it later.

The pointless chain—Yes, it has nothing on it. I AM aware. I am not sure what the significance of this chain was, or why I was wearing it, or who told me that it looked cool.

The hoop earrings—WHO LET ME WEAR HOOP EARRINGS? THIS PERSON MUST BE ARRESTED AND HELD IN CONTEMPT FOR A VERY LONG TIME!

The Dora The Explorer Haircut— This is why, for YEARS after middle school, I wore my hair so long that it could have competed with Pocahontas. If you look at picture of me in high school all the way through college, you’ll see that my hair was down to my belly button. This IS why.

But the braces…Ohhh lord, the braces.

Luckily, my teeth are as straight as a picket fence now. Thanks Mom & Dad.

The second piece that has been published, is about my experiences with a teacher who made me feel like an idiot, and how that experience fueled me to succeed in the following years.

Ms. S, if you’re reading this…I’m still bad at math, and I’m not EVEN sorry.
AimingLow published piece #2
“A Way With Words”

Moving on (Watch as I attempt to distract you with free stuff in hopes of recovering from that scary picture), THERE IS ONE DAY LEFT TO SIGN UP FOR THE N.A.L.S. GIVEAWAY!

In case you’re unfamiliar with this, N.A.L.S stands for Not Another Love Story. If you haven’t read the series yet, you’re not allowed to sign up…KIDDING! I highly recommend that you read the series though, because I think my readers will vouch for me when I say that it’s better than a Nicholas Sparks novel…because it’s THE REAL DEAL!

Okay, so my story doesn’t have Zac Effron or Ryan Gosling, but it does have these rad peeps:



So it’s totally comparable.

Anyway, to get the full scoop on the giveaway, what the awesome prizes are, and who my sponsors are, check out this post. Then, go to the Findingravity Facebook page and click “like” to be entered once. Tweet the giveaway with #findingravity to be entered twice. It’s like The Hunger Games, except having your name entered multiple times really DOES put the odds in your favor.

I’ll be hand writing the names and picking them out of a bowl, Effie Trinket style, because THAT’S how much I love you guys. Blake will be photographing it, and I’ll be announcing the winners on Saturday afternoon (aka tomorrow).

And lastly, I’ve started an anti bullying blog link up! Having spent a lot of time working in high schools, bullying is an issue I feel very strongly about. I am asking my readers to link up with me, and between now and Friday, I am asking you all to dedicate JUST ONE POST to the issue of bullying. If you’re reading this now, just set a reminder for yourself. It won’t take long at all. You can share a story, illustrate something, vlog about it, whatever your gorgeous little heart desires. You never know who you could be helping. Somebody could be struggling with bullying and stumble across it. Your story could save a life, or give somebody hope. Put your creative abilities to good use sometime in the upcoming week.

Feel free to grab the banner for your post, and link back to the original blog post where I introduce the link up, which can be found here.

Throughout the week, I’ll be posting and tweeting your stories on Twitter and Facebook. Next weekend, I’ll be posting ALL of the links to the wonderful blogs who participated, so that everybody who stumbles across my blog will have the opportunity to read your amazing stories and opinions.

This is what I feel the blogging community is TRULY about. Sharing ideas.
Be a part of this.

I hope you all have a fantastic weekend, and may the odds be EVER in your favor for winning the giveaway tomorrow.

…You’re still laughing at that picture, AREN’T YOU? I thought so.

Findingravity Anti Bullying Link Up

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I’ve always been a little hesitant of blog hops/link ups. Personally, and this is JUST my opinion, I blog because I’m passionate about writing. I don’t blog to get comments, or to have a million followers, or to feel self important. Obviously I ADORE my followers, and the thoughtful insights they share with me, and I am so grateful that you have stumbled across my corner of the blogosphere and taken a moment to read about the things I care about, (mixed in with frequent Will Smith dance parties, Adam Levine tangents, and the occasional embarrassing story).

So yes, blog hops/link ups have always made me raise an eyebrow. Now I suppose giveaways are considered link ups (because TECHNICALLY people are linking up to my blog through the giveaway) but currently, I’m not getting paid to promote these products, and I’m not even receiving one to try out for myself. I’m just saying thanks to my readers for being so wonderful. When I decided to host the NALS giveaway, I spent two hours one night after work filtering through independent Etsy shops and graphic designers who I felt represented my blog’s vibe. In other words, I’m not about to partner up with Pajama Jeans or Slap Chop.

I do actually own a slap chop. It’s the bomb diggity, and I’m not giving it away. Sorry.

However, this particular subject is one I feel very connected to. If you’ve been following along you know that I have my degree in English teaching. (If you’re a newbie…HI! Glad you’re here! *Fistbump*). Now I don’t mean teaching English as a second language. I’m talking Shakespeare, creative writing, and teaching you yo’ grammah skillz.

Being a teacher and working in schools, I get to see a lot of things that you (assuming you’re not a teacher) don’t get to see, but probably hear about. If you’re a parent, I not only urge you to stick around for this, but I urge you to participate in what I’m about to propose. Bullying is a trend that has skyrocketed in schools across the country, and after watching a story on the news last night about a young girl who came forth about being bullied in school, I became so enraged that I knew I had to say something.

Here’s the deal. The young girl had complained to the office several times about being bullied. Every day this little girl went home in tears, and her mother called the school to find out what could be done. The situation actually escalated to the point where this little girl, who feared for her life to the extent of staying anonymous on camera, was not only being bullied, but sexually assaulted. In this particular interview, the news reported that the school responded by saying two things:

-That it’s hard to validate bullying reports because you don’t necessarily know whether they are true or not…
-That they take their anti bullying clause in the code of conduct section of the student hand book VERY seriously…

Wait, WHAT?…WHAAAAT?
Just one question…Are you serious? ARE…YOUUUUU…SERIOUS?

First of all that statement is so contradicting, that I don’t even know how to intelligently respond to it, because it’s one of the most unintelligent things I’ve ever heard come from a school. Don’t B.S. the students, the parents, or me like that. I am a teacher, I’ve worked in schools, and I’ve seen and stopped bullying first hand. YOU KNOW when students are being bullied. YOU CAN tell. IT IS obvious. IT IS happening. IT CAN be stopped.

When I make the Carley by night, Miss. B by day transfer (yes, just like Superman), It becomes my duty to keep the kids in my classroom safe. It should be EVERY teacher, principal, aid, and administration member’s duty to keep the kids safe. Let’s look at this realistically; as individuals, we may only get one or two hours with the particular students in our classrooms, but collectively, we spend more time with the students than their parents do. I’m not a teacher because of the RIDICULOUSLY high salary I make (please note the sarcasm), or because I just LOOOOVE having summers off (I mean I guess units and lessons can write themselves). I’m a teacher because I want to give students a positive learning experience in a safe environment. I want the students in my classroom,  from time they walk in, to the time they walk out, to feel safe.  I want them to feel respected and cared about.

I’ve watched bullying occur in hallways, and I’ve watched other teachers turn their backs on it and do absolutely nothing because they mistook it for horsing around. Maybe because I view my students as more than just a name on an attendance sheet, I care more, or maybe because I’m younger I feel closer to this issue. Who knows? When I see a group of high and mighty teenage girls corner a fellow student and call her every derogatory name in the English language, I can immediately tell it’s not “horsing around.” When I see a hamburger go flying across the cafeteria, hitting a mentally disabled student in the face, it is NOT “horsing around.” When I hear a student being made fun of for his sexuality, economic status, or family background, it is NOT “horsing around.”

It is bullying.
Period.

This is not a joke.
This is not a lighthearted issue.
Students across the country are being bullied into suicide.

So if you’re reading this, and you’re a teacher, or an aid, or a principal, I’m going to ask you one question. How would you feel if YOUR daughter was coming home every day in tears? How would you feel if YOUR son was so tormented by his classmates’ words and actions, that he was contemplating taking his own life because he felt worthless?

These are not plastic dolls and hand me down clothes that our children will eventually  grow out of. These are horrific experiences that could potentially stay with them forever, damaging them both mentally, and emotionally.

These children, both the bullied AND the bullies, are the future.
They are learning this cruel behavior and accepting attitude toward it, from US.

Together, as a community, as a nation, we must find ways to end bullying. Zero tolerance needs to start meaning zero tolerance, and not, well there’s not much we can offer except a lecture tolerance. No student should ever have to think, what are they going to do to me today?

I am asking you ALL to link up with me today, tomorrow, or sometime next week. Spread the word. Take a stand. Share a story. If one person does it, and links up, and another person does it and links up, who knows how many people will feel our message and link up? I’m talking to every single person reading this, whether you’re 15, 25, 50, or any age in between. I’m asking you to dedicate one post to the issue of bullying, post the button I’ve included, and link back to this piece, so that people can truly feel and understand that this not a game.  Throughout the week, I will be posting the links to people’s blogs who have written about this issue, so everybody can read everyone else’s responses.

Do it however you want. Are you an artist? Draw something, and scan it. Are you a better speaker than writer? Great, vlog about it, I fully intend to as well. Can you rap all of the words to Fresh Prince of Bel Air? I can too. Write a rap and perform it. Are you a fashion blogger? Make a shirt, take a picture wearing it, and post it on your blog with a description of what it means to you. I am leaving all creative mediums open. Be a part of something bigger than yourself, and do it however you feel comfortable.

Take a stand. Share YOUR story.
It could save somebody’s life.

Be sure to shoot me an email (carley{at}findingravity.com) or leave a comment if you participate, so I know to add your post to my blog, and don’t forget to grab the button below!