Wow, hi. I hope the holidays were lovely for you and yours.

The last month was a blur of family, friends, travel and way too much delicious food, and I was simply too busy shoving every kind of christmas cookie available in my mouth to play much attention to anything else, especially the blog.

But I mean, who cares?  Blog posts about why someone hasn’t been blogging are quite possibly the most boring thing ever.  So I’ll just say this-I’ve been living life, and it’s pretty rad. Do people still say “rad”? I’m bringing it back.

Moving right along.

Someone shoved a video camera in my face at 12:02 am on January 1st and asked what my New Years resolution was.  I didn’t have anything to say, so I chugged my champagne like the lady I am and said “I want a puppy!” Luckily my boyfriend followed that by a bunch of mumbo jumbo about “health” and “happiness” and “blah blah” to which I said “oh yeah, that too!”

I’m not the biggest fan of New Years resolutions.  I just feel that there is so much in life that is out of our control-good and bad.  A year ago, I didn’t know that I was going to drop everything, move to Costa Rica and become a personal trainer.  I prefer to live in the moment-or at least that is what I’m trying to do a little bit more, every day.

Tropical humidity + curly hair=THAT monstrosity

With that said, goals are fantastic. And really, as much as “resolutions” annoy me, there is something to be said about starting off a new year with a fresh perspective and a few personal goals.

1. Be Kind(er) Be Nice(er) Be Patient(er?)
Unless you’ve hurt my family or friends (don’t mess with my people), or eaten the last of my ice cream in the freezer (um, ruuude), I’m going to be pretty damn nice to you. I’m a nice girl. Manners, forgiving, caring, the whole thing. Usually. I also have a feisty latina temper, a strong personality and little patience for people I don’t understand. I am working on taking a minute before I react, and, on that note, reacting from a place of compassion.  I don’t always have to be “right”…sometimes being kind is just more important.

2. Power over anxiety
If you’re a long time reader, you know that I have shared my struggles with anxiety in the past. I’m at a different place with anxiety now, due I’m sure to my new life-moving to Costa Rica, living away from my family, and proving to myself that the anxiety won’t always win. The most crippling thing about anxiety, for me, is the fear. Fear of failure. Fear of loss. Fear of all the terrible, horrible, heinous things that could happen…fear like this traps you, and it makes you feel like these things have happened-when they haven’t. When they might never, ever, EVER happen. And this leads to the worst part of anxiety-the loss of your joy. My joy. I spend so much time worrying and being upset about things that simply haven’t happened and it holds me back from the life I want, and the wonderful life I have. My goal? Live in the moment-quite literally. Take more deep breaths. Squeeze my boyfriends hand to remind myself of where I am. And most importantly, keep taking chances and risks-the best way to take control of your anxiety is to prove it wrong.

3. Love Better
My boyfriend is insanely amazing. He constantly does things to make my life easier, to make me smile, and to make me feel loved. He’s extremely patient with this feisty anxious latina, and all cliche’s aside, the dude is my absolute best friend. Plus, he’s hot. I feel like I do a good job of letting him know how appreciated he is, and how much I love him, but there’s always more I can do. So I’m gonna do it.

Add car photos to the list of things he sits through for me…doesn’t he look thrilled?

And I still want a puppy.

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I’ve felt a little bit lost this summer.

Traveling. New countries. New places. New homes. Suitcases instead of a closet and what my bed feels like has become a distant memory.

Grief and anxiety have attached themselves to me this summer.

The things I used to do to comfort myself aren’t available to me right now. I’ve spent the last month trying to find the bright side, attempting to embrace the changes. I’ve turned inward a bit, and that’s ok. Texts have gone unanswered, emails take a few days to respond to. My nails are chipped, my hair needs to be touched up.

Though it’s been on my mind, the blog has suffered. I don’t post just for the sake of posting. I could give two shits about my Klout score, or how many followers I have on Twitter.  Google + invites and notices are deleted.  It’s the Internet, it’s not going anywhere.

There are many reasons why I blog. I’ve met some of my best friends through this blog. I’ve found jobs and clients. The fun money I make blogging funds my quest to try every liquid eyeliner ever made.

Blogging forces me to turn outward. To share and listen and match the noise in my head and heart with words and feelings. I needed to turn some of the noise off this summer though.

I’m doing my best to turn outward right now. I think that this post is more for me than anyone else. It’s a reminder that I’m trying, it’s a reminder that the grieving process is a long one, it’s a reminder to stop being so hard on myself all the time.

I’m excited for the future. My future. The blogs future.

It’s no big deal if I suck at texting today, or if my nails aren’t done today. It’s ok if staying at home reading a new book is the only thing I really want to do when I’m done with work today.

I have high hopes for tomorrow.

This summer isn’t over yet.

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After yet ANOTHER exhausting weekend of getting the guys in my phone confused and possibly forgetting their names (because I give everyone a nickname and now there are too many and why is every guy named CHRIS?! OR RYAN?) I realized I am failing miserably at this cuddleslut business–it was time to bring in reinforcements. I’ll let her do the rest of the talking. Take notes!

Rule Number One:

The first rule of cuddleslut, is do not talk about cuddleslut… Just kidding. The first rule is:

A badass bitch does not settle. Do you hear that? She does. not. settle.

Let it sink in. Let it marinate for a few seconds. Now never forget it.

Do not settle for:
- someone else’s boyfriend
- a cheater
- a liar
- a chain-smoking, online-poker playing, borderline alcoholic with Peter Pan Syndrome (my bad, that was me, I hopped on the bitter train for a second)
- fuckfaces
- douchelords
- anyone who reminds you the tiniest bit of Chris Brown or Kevin Federline or Jesse James

A cuddleslut is never desperate, she is the exact opposite. She makes boys desperate, hoping for just a minute of her precious time.

Rule Number Two:

Quantity versus Quality. What do I mean by that, exactly?

I’m not telling you to say yes to every. single. dude. that asks for your digits. But I’m telling you not to be super picky. A very wise (and sexy) young woman once said “Step out of your dating comfort zone.”

If your gut reaction to a guy was “no”, take a second to evaluate why. If it’s something silly like his shoes, get off your high horse and give the dude the benefit of the doubt.

But if your gut reaction was “no, no, hell no!” because you just saw him mackin’ on a dead ringer for babyslut Taylor Momsen or he’s wearing a t-shirt that says “Federal Breast Inspector” (or worse yet, Ed Hardy) then by all means, go with your instincts girl. Pass!

We have to cuddle with a lot of frogs before we find our prince.

If tall, dark and handsome isn’t working out for you, try another flavor. As a matter of fact, taste the rainbow. Sample every flavor. Medium, blonde and stubbly. Mmmmm.

Rule Number Three:

“Be yourself. Those who mind, don’t matter and those who matter,
don’t mind.”
~ Dr. Suess

Hell-ohhh-o, he knows his shit. Dr. Suess, was after all, a doctor.

Let your freak flag fly!

If you want to wear night eye makeup in the day sometimes, do it.
If you want to drink beer and not martinis, do it.
If you want to wear flats to the bar sometimes, do it.
If you want to wear ski socks under your sexy boots, ’cause it’s damn cold outside, do it.
If you want to drink cocktails from a Paul Frank mug on New Years Eve, do it.
If you want to get a fuchsia credit card from a swanky department store, that you will rarely be able to use, just because it’s pink, do it.
If you want to wear pajamas to your own birthday party, f’ing dooooo it. (Yes, some or all of this might be coming from personal experience. I’m weird and that’s why everyone some wicked awesome people love me.)
If you want to wear sweats to the bar, for the love of God, don’t freaking do that.

Be yourself. That way, you will always know that the people that love you, are loving you for you.

Rule Number Four:

Juggle, with honesty and confidence.

So now you’re runnin’ around, having the time of your life. Texting like a fiend. Dating like a man, but still crossing your legs like a lady. Cuddle to your heart’s content. (Make sure you can keep them all straight, unlike some people I know.)

Be up front, you’re not tied down to one guy in particular. Don’t hate the player, hate the game and all that bull shit, is just that, bull shit. Have integrity. Be able to look yourself in the mirror.

Do not become their housewife, their rent-a-girlfriend or their *shudder* “buddy” (unless you want to be in the friends-zone). Do not become Justin Bobby and kiss the black lipstick wearing drunkslut in the bar yards away from Audrina… or you know… situation with genders reversed.

If you decide someone in the rotation is not worth your time, because they turned out to be a douchetard, or you’re just not feeling it, take the appropriate action. Be honest. Be nice. (Unless they don’t deserve it. In which case, be brutal and tell them to go reflect on what an asshole they are.) (Liz here-bwhahahahaha…totes did that! He deserved it, trust.)

But if he’s a nice guy, just not for you, say so.

I Hate (that’s right, with a capital H) to just stop all communication guy. It’s shitty and it’s a cop out. I think a semi-decent guy is owed in the very least a text that says “I have fun, but I don’t feel the right connection. I hope you understand.” And most of the time he’ll suck it up and say that he does… understand… even if he doesn’t and he’s about to go drink a 12-pack and cry to his BFF.

And while we’re on the topic of honesty, the second that you do decide to pick a lucky winner from the bunch and lock that shit down, you need to let the other guys know. Or, you can do what I did and change your facebook status. Let all the assholes know what’s up be a grown up (not!) and stop returning their texts.

Rule Number Five:

Be safe. This is a two parter.

“Keep it loose. Except for your vagina. Keep that shizz, tight at all times.”

~ Alexi

Duh!

Get your ass on the pill, the needle, the sponge, double bag it, I don’t care. Don’t be someone’s baby mama.

Also, handle your heart with care. The second a dude displays less than admirable qualities either call him on it, or cut his ass loose. (See #4)

Please understand that I am by no means a doctor (like the all-knowing Suess) or an expert. I am just a freckle-faced, foul-mouthed blogger/former-cuddleslut with an axe to grind experience to share, jokes to tell and time on my hands. Lots and lots of time on my hands. Please forward any and all complaints to my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend. Just kidding, show us some love! What the hell else am I going to do while I’m at work this week, but catch up on your comments.

Isn’t she amazing? I will make her proud as Cuddleslut 2.oh. Happy Week, lovers. xoxo

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Happy Monday! In my head, that sounded totally sarcastic so just in case it didn’t translate-TOTALLY SARCASTIC. But anyway! The project I’m working on requires me to go into an office (I’m sure I’m getting blank stares from most of you…as you read this from your offices), and last week I was bored out of my mind with my outfits! Therefore, no lookbooks…yet. I love dresses…they’re so easy to throw on, and Hanako, Kelly and Maegan inspire me with the dresses they wear to work. I have to admit though, that dresses are one retail sector that kind of intimidate me, especially when it comes to the workplace. I can wear whatever the heck I want, one of the perks of working in a creative industry, however…if you have boobs or curves like me-lots of dresses can go from cute to skank in 2.5 secs…not professional at all. Below are dresses I would wear to work that won’t break the bank (I despise spending a fortune on work clothes, let’s save that for the Loubies kthxbai.)

All of the above from ASOS. I wish they were hanging in my closet NOW. Boo wtf am I gonna wear tomorrow ughhhh!!! Sunday night grumpies, party of one…

In other news, I have the Ciao, Chessa! winner to announce!! My lovey banana badger was forced gracious enough to pick the lucky number via gchat this evening…number 84- Carissa from The Lovely Dove it is all you woman! Have your people talk to my people and let’s do the damn thing Congrats, doll!

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Last week, I learned a few things. 1. PMS is a rabid biatch set on ruining my life/one week per month. 2. I have the best readers ever. 3. I READ some of the best blogs ever. 4. I think I’m going to start a weekly series called “I’m kind of obsessed with her” and have a guest post from.someone.I’m.mildly.obsessed.with. Not creepy at all, right? Perfect.

Let me thank Liz for allowing me to violate her blog with a guest post.
Let me introduce myself. My name is Jillian and I blog over at The Pilgrim Congress, which is basically a Jesus-endorsed super site aimed at making you uncomfortable.

Now that the formalities are out of the way, lets get down to the business. When Liz asked me to do a guest post on Its Unbeweavable I basically peed my pants in excitement. After changing, I realized that I was totally fucked as I am not a fashion blogger. But then I realized that though I am not a fashion blogger, I am an expert in one area of fashion. And that is how this post was born. Enjoy.

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