Peanut Butter Jelly Time!

One of my favorite pallets of all time is the Too Faced Peanut Butter and Jelly Pallet. Besides the fact that the color pay off is amazing, I can easily create over twenty looks with this single pallet. Each color blends seamlessly with little to no fall-out. I always find myself reaching for it when I want to create a funky look without coming out of the other end of the proverbial makeup rabbit hole looking like a clown.

The shimmer and matte browns in this little guy really compliment a medium skin tone, which I’m sure any mixed girl can appreciate. I’ve noticed lately, a lot of color stories that mainstream companies are choosing for their makeup lines do not necessarily compliment a deeper skin tone.  Or the pallets are created without the consideration that there are many different kinds of pigmentation, and they don’t all look great in the basic pallet coloring format.

I Am Not J.k Rowling


The more I navigate my way through the Freelance Writing world, the more I become very aware of my own short comings. When I was just beginning my college career, I used to daydream about becoming the next best-selling Fantasy Author. I pictured myself creating such extremely thought out worlds that were rich with exposition, and would give my readers no choice but to be completely immersed in the fanciful lands that I concocted in my clever little mind.

For some asinine reason, I thought that going to college was what was going to make me the next great American novelist. Not only that, I also thought that it was going to indoctrinate amazing Fantasy plots into my writing process. Obviously, neither of these things has happened . . . Yet!

On the real though, I know now that I’m just too much of a realist to be able to stretch my mind around a fantasy land. Of course I’m still in absolute awe of people like Joe Rowling or George RR Martin. The worlds they have created are incomparable. This is probably why so many who try to emulate them always fall short.

Now That I’m Fat

I should preface this post with some humility. I have always been very petite in stature. I understand that this doesn’t make me special or anything, it just means I’ve had a pretty high metabolism. When I was a kid I ate like shit, and if I’m being completely honest, I probably continued to eat crappy fried and processed foods up until I was about twenty-three. No matter what I ate during that time though, I still maintained relatively the same weight.

Boy, do I miss those days. There’s not a day that goes by now that I don’t wish I could hop in a time machine, find my stupid skinny ass, and knock the fucking extra-large Wendy’s Chili out of my hand . . . No shade to Wendy’s, I still have dreams about eating quarts of that chili, it’s amazing.

It’s probably also a good idea to let anyone reading this know that, when I was in high school I was a pretty shy kid with crooked teeth that had zero confidence talking to any human that I didn’t know. I understood very clearly, that I was not the prettiest, I did not have big boobs to brag about, I didn’t have great hair, and I couldn’t play sports. But if you asked what I liked about myself physically, I would say that I liked how my body looked.

I look at my little sister, who’s a spitting image of what I used to look like, and I’m actually jealous that she just gets to eat whatever she wants and has an amazing body. My little sister is a dancer by-the-way, so her current body right now is in reality probably ten times more impressive than mine ever was. But still! I feel like I do a lot to achieve a healthy lifestyle. I go to yoga, I don’t eat red meat, I’ve replaced most of the delicious fried foods that I used to eat with kale and spinach, and I drink so much water every day that I have to pee literally every twenty minutes.

Meanwhile, my sister eats trash and doesn’t exercise and she looks like a hot little twig with bigger boobs than me! Figures, I would gain weight everywhere except my chest. Today, if I ate a salad right now, I would look like I was in my second trimester. It’s like all-of-a-sudden my body has separation anxiety with food. I wish I could go back to the days when I had a rockin’ bod . . . Now I’m left with a bod that’s had a rock thrown at it.