I wake up to this. Via

Lately, I keep having these mini identity crises, where I wake up in the morning and am not quite sure what hat to put on, and for the sake of  finally getting this post out of my head, can we, as a family,  just pretend that I- 1. actually wear hats and do not hate them and 2. do anything in the morning before mainlining at least 2 cups of coffee?  Also?  I am trying out something new and exciting and totally stressful…making coffee at home. With a French press.  And sometimes it’s just too much for me, so I usually end up grabbing my “hat” and going to Starbucks anyway.  In the meantime, my French press looks le chic on my counter.

So, there’s that. But for the record, just so there isn’t any confusion and a hat company wants to like…sponsor me or something?  I don’t “do” hats.  I look like an idiot.  I’ve never met a hat that looked good on me, besides maybe a beanie in the snow, but that’s more functional and I still feel like I have a condom on my head.  So no hats.

I woke up today totally intending on getting a Liz is Loving up by 12, because I actually do have products I want to share with you guys and I was thinking of how I could put them all into a nice lil collage so I wouldn’t even have to say anything, and it would be more of an article, all precise and tied with a bow maybe, than the word vomit I’m actually providing today. I wouldn’t have to get personal, or reveal what I’m really feeling or thinking about anything other than beauty products. And I could do my “job” over here, and then send you on your way to guzzle green beer if that’s your thing.  But instead, I’m just going to compare myself to a coffee maker. You’re welcome.

Have you guys ever used a French press?  I should be able to do this, I am a mother effing badass.  It’s a total balancing act-if you put in too much water, it will end up all over you and your counter, if you don’t put in enough, the end result will be mud.  Sometimes when I’m pushing down on the “thing” (because I don’t know wtf it’s called), I get scared that I’m pushing too hard and it’s going to spill and why can’t I do this and why.is.everything.so.hard, and why am I crying? I know so many of you are domestic goddesses and are probably thinking, um using a French press is easy, Liz-but just stay with me.

I feel like I keep pushing myself, pushing through, pushing forward, wearing the hats I am supposed to, all the while not completely letting go, because I’m terrified I’ll lose control and make a mess I can’t clean up,  and it will become all too apparent that I actually don’t know how to process certain things and some days I just don’t have my shit together and then maybe the tears won’t stop, and the mascara I was planning on telling you guys about will run and it might get all over his shirt or my friends will get sick of hearing about it-whatever, IT may be. Or maybe, even worse, I’ll keep pushing and pushing and still feel absolutely nothing, like I’m stuck in the mud, which is even more terrifying than feeling everything all at once.

First,

I realized how much I’ve been taking for granted. Nasomuch the gorgeous scenery…I’m not going down that route here, although are we spoiled geographically? Absolutely.

{Credit-My sis, the photog. I was too busy lurking on hot surfers and putting them on Twitter. So I creep…yeahhhhh}

I don’t usually eat corn dogs. I eat maybe one hot dog a year, or when they’re forced upon me at sporting events. They just tend to freak me out in general. My sister stumbled upon this little corn dog and lemonade shack one night at 2am once, and she took me there, this time at 2 in the afternoon. We walked on the pier, there were dolphins and I was eating meat on a stick. For the first time in a long time, I felt free. Who knew that’s all I needed?

I’m still searching for balance. Between being here but wanting to be there, NOW, between filling voids within myself with things, people I shouldn’t rather than taking the time to find out what exactly is making me feel so empty sometimes. I’m stuck in that completely annoying place where the one I want is the one I can’t have, and as I sit here typing this, listening to old soul music and quite pleased with the manicure I got today (Essie Mink Muffs ftw), I’m searching for the answer to what the hell am I doing with my life. What really matters? Do we ever really know? Or do we just do the best we can, take the bad along with the good and sometimes, just enjoy a god damn corn dog? It was a REALLY good corn dog.

Today, new beginnings…amazing opportunities. I am now an official freelance writer…you know, one who gets paid. My head is spinning, and when my pieces go up-pieces I am working on like crazy right now, you’ll be the first to know, and as always, your support means the world.

Have a fabulous weekend!! My Giveaway is extended til Monday-I’m lazy busy.

Image via Wildfox Couture

“Living never wore one out so much as the effort not to live”-Anais Nin (My absolute favorite)

Maybe I’ll get my shit together in time for round 2

I was on a conference call last week, and it turned into a complete mess, as most conf calls do. One girl, on the East coast who I’ve never met but have developed a rapport with via phone and email, kept trying to say something valid but nobody would listen. Finally she was able to break through the bitching, moaning and blame game to say, “I know this won’t change anything, but I need to be heard. I need to say this.” And went on to make her point.

Girlfriends. Le sigh, right? So many blogs on the subject, I know. I’ve posted about it before and I adore this post by my friend Brown Girl, as well.

{This post isn’t about the Blair to my Serena, just clarifying so ya’ll don’t have to google it. We’re solid.}

I’ve been called stuck up and a bitch by girls who haven’t spoken one word to me. This scares me into not wanting to try. I am moody, flighty and at times, my mind changes at the last minute. My life is so crazy and complicated that often I don’t let potential friends all the way in because it’s hard to know who to trust, and frankly, sometimes I can’t worry about letting down one.more.person. I come off snobby when I don’t mean to at all because I get very quiet if I’m uncomfortable or out of my element. I might make plans with you because I really do want to see you, but have to cancel because of above said crazy life, or because I just need to sit in my room and decompress and I’m afraid to tell you all the crazy going on in my head. Sometimes I forget to write thank you cards. I am too hard on myself and sometimes that means I can be too hard on my friends. I’m working on all these things, and I appreciate the girls in my life who make me want to be a better friend, you know who you are.But, if you need to talk, you better call me! When you’re really sick, I will pray and rally my troops and get a whole heck of a lotta people praying for you. If you’re in the hospital, I will want to be by your side. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. I will stay up all night with you talking, I will hate the guy who hurt your heart, call him names and cry with you. I will tell you what shoes you should wear and yes, of course duh, you can borrow mine and sure, I’ll do your makeup before your date! If you need a place to stay, you’ve got one. I will tell you highly inappropriate jokes to make you laugh when you’re upset. If you live across the country, I’ll buy a plane ticket simply because I want to sit on the couch with you and watch Curb, because I love you. I’ll support your decisions, celebrate your achievements, encourage your dreams, sympathize with your pms, remind you of your worth should you forget, be in your wedding, do the makeup for your wedding, and so on and so forth… Meaning…once you’re in my heart, you’re in. Super glued, cemented, and I do the best I can.

This weekend, I was hurt by a very good friend. Or so I thought she was. I don’t want to slander her publicly because she’s doing it enough to herself and I feel more pity for her than anything else but…I NEED TO BE HEARD. I feel conned, used, taken for granted and sad. Angry? Latina fury? Hell yes. But sad because I trusted her, she was in my heart…and I just don’t understand. Life happens, people aren’t who they seem and I hope she gets the help that she so desperately needs. There are no excuses for the way she treated me…and until she owns up to that, I can’t have her in my life. And it hurts to write that, and mean it.

{This picture isn’t nice. But it made me laugh.}

Thank you for being here, friends.

It’s official. For some reason I am more nervous writing this post than I any I have before, and umm if you’ve read my blog you know that’s saying a lot.

Dreams do come true.

Meet my baby. Black Label Media Group. All mine. The website will be launching soon, but I already have some amazing clients, ten years in the Fashion Marketing and PR industry to back me up and give me the confidence I need when I panic and realize I have no safety net. Sneak peek-Check out my kick ass business card, thank you Kelly (she’s amazing.) I thought it was time to share a little more with my amazing support system…YOU.

I’m excited. I can do this. And I love and thank the people who think I can’t, because they just make me want it even more. I’ve never failed at anything in my life and I’m certainly not starting now. Haters are the best motivaters!

Anything you want to do…you can, dolls, you CAN.

Black Label Media Group caters to the Fashion and Beauty industries, and specializes in Marketing and Branding, Public Relations, SEO, in addition to Photo Shoot, Fashion Show and Events Production and Promotions….among many other things.

For now, I can be reached at itsunbeweavable@gmail.com

Thank you for your constant support. Wish me luck! I apologize for the blatant self-promotion

XOXO,

Liz

Pssst. Fabulous Giveaway tomorrow…just sayin.

I had my first full blown panic attack almost nine years ago walking out of a California Pizza Kitchen with my then boyfriend…I literally thought I was having a heart attack and dying. I can’t explain the sensation, I can barely remember it because while it has such physical effects, you almost feel like you’re floating above yourself. I just remember holding onto his hand so tight that later on I found out I bruised and cracked it and he couldn’t use it for weeks…um.oops.

Those same doctors have also told me that dealing with anxiety and all that comes with it, also makes one a more compassionate, sensitive person. I hope so. The most important thing is that I will never let it trap me, I will never let the anxiety become bigger than me but at the same time, I can’t fight it kicking and screaming. There is a level of acceptance that has to take place, but that will never mean surrender.

P.S. I am fine loves…this is just a teeny part of me that at times, can feel very, very big. I can sleep now…minus the fact that sharing this has made me anxious!

I wish I could stay in bed all day. I wonder if that would make me feel better.
I wish I could take a vacation from my mind. The darn thing won’t turn off.
Maybe I should just wear a cool hat and stare off into space with the perfect back lighting. Note to self-get a cute off the shoulder top for moments like this.
Perhaps I should blast some Slayer old school style to drown out my thoughts.

Don’t judge me. I dated a skater who turned me onto Slayer. Pretty sure I’ve done worse things than listen to them, so don’t tell me I’m going to hell. I got the memo.
Or hunt down these girls and make them be my new friends! Judging from footwear and accessories alone, I’m pretty sure we’d be besties and they would do me no wrong! Plus forced friendship is not creepy at all, right?

Sorry for the mood, dolls. I just don’t understand people and my life would probably be easier if I just gave up trying. Frenemys. Girls who are so bout it bout it when I’m UP TO HERE with le perks and fabulousness and the free shit and the V.I.P, but vanish when I’m down (in their eyes)…since they can’t use me anymore, poof, they’re gone. Vultures. Jealous biatches who leave you when you need them most and are secretly (or not so secretly) happy when you fall. I do a ton of things that aren’t perfect, but I won’t ever leave you hanging and I’ll never be happy when your life gets rough for a minute, no matter what you have that I don’t. Basically- I’m just sick of being the 3am phone call when I can’t even get a 3pm phone call.

I think that just about sums it up. Thanks for putting up with my bitchboard haha. Since blogger and I don’t get along, I don’t schedule posts which means I’m not here tomorrow because I’ll be in heavy duty wedding make-up prep mode, so I have a fabulous guest blogger spreading some sunshine. Seriously one of my favorite bloggers ever. SUPER EXCITED to kick the happiness up a notch around these parts and have an Unbeweavable weekend. (Cheeesyyyyy) Also means that I will suck when it comes to comments this weekend, but ya know I’ll be back with tons of wedding pictures!! And LBD pictures! BOOYA!