So, You Want a Blogging Tip…

Damn, Girl has been growing a bit fast. OK, scary fast.

My little three-month-old blog is reaching toward fifteen hundred followers and tens of thousands of views. Companies are starting to contact me about promoting their shit. Every blogger’s dream, right?

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But I am not writing this to brag. I am writing this because I’ve been getting dozens of emails asking for blogging tips… And apparently “day drinking” isn’t cutting it

So let me try and muster something better: Let’s start by knocking off that “I feel bad for promoting myself” shit.

I could tell you to “post pretty pictures” and “be patient” but those tips are everywhere and they are a lot easier than what you actually have to learn how to do:

As a blogger, you need to get comfortable with needing things. More than that, you need to get comfortable asking for those things that you need.

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Meal Prep for When You Just Can’t Even

Sleeping girl

I have two versions of myself: the one that kicks ass and takes names, and the one that just. can’t. even.

It’s a hormonal thing. I can’t be expected to clean my house and cook dinner and defeat my enemies when I am downing wolfsbane and transitioning into a she-beast. I ride those energy waves just like most women, but I feel like we aren’t allowed to admit that we ride them. Because that makes us “less-better than men,” or “hormonal,” or “crazy,” or “lazy,” or my favorite: “witches.”

Maybe you are that elusive super woman who has consistent mood, energy, and awesomeness all month long, who kicks ass from sun up to sundown 365 days a year and runs and wins marathons on the first day of her period. In which case, Hi Gwyneth! Thank you so much for reading, girl! I loved you in “Duets”!

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For the rest of us, learning to navigate those waves, whether they be from hormones, or depression, or balancing a job and a family is key to master the art of adulting.

I’m a bit of an extremist by nature. I get these grand ideas of preparing surf and turf on a Wednesday, duck a l’orange on a Thursday, tackling a vegan dish worthy of the cover of Bon Appétit on a Friday, and ringing in the weekend with Eggs Benedict and homemade apple crisp.

In reality, I have surf and turf on a Wednesday and then the fridge is empty for the rest of the week and I bounce a check cause that shit is expensive and by the time the weekend comes around, I can be found half naked, squatting in front of the fridge eating the last remnants of a block of cheese.

I’m better now. I’ve discovered “attainable goals” and “pajamas” and something called “meal prep.”

These tips may seem over-simplistic, but that’s the point. We all spend 45 minutes on Pinterest, get these crazy ideas in our head about “30 meals in 3 hours” and 30 hours later, we have 3 meals and are shitfaced and covered in peanut butter. So, here’s to attainable goals and to meal prep for when you just can’t even.

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Your Wedding, Your Money

A wedding

Uh oh, DGGYST has been reading again. Nothing good can come of that. I get new information and then I pass it on to you like some kind of horrible virus. You didn’t want to know about your giant clitoris, but I found out and just couldn’t help but tell you, so now you must take that information with you to the grave… or to the gynecologist where you will only think, “Zucchini clit, zucchini clit,” over and over and over again.

So when I read an article that the average cost of a wedding climbed to a record high of $35,329 last year, I was a bit stupefied and immediately felt the need to discuss it with you.

Now let me assure you, I think you are a big sexy adult who is entirely capable of spending her money the way she sees fit. There are a bunch of ridiculous articles out there telling you that weddings are a waste and stupid, and that you look fat and shouldn’t go to the beach (maybe my magazine pages got stuck together). I’m not going to do any of that.

I only want you to have a firm understanding of what you are getting for your money.

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Fuck High Heels

A woman in high heel shoes

I’ve made a pretty revolutionary decision. I’ve decided to never wear anything uncomfortable ever again. Like. Ever….

Bridget Jones holding up a pair of large panties.

I’m doing a whole series on this shit. It’s about self-care and feminism and honor! …Or possibly me just being fed up with being fucking uncomfortable. I’ll be hurling all of my itchy, too tight, too high-necked, too-anything out of my closet and into a pile where I will urinate on them and light it all on fire and dance naked around the smelly polyester bonfire….Oh, like you have anything better to do on a Friday night.

I’ll be starting this purge with my shoes, because no itchy sweater, no tight pant, no binding dress can compare to the mass discomfort and mass destruction of high heels.

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Shit You Might Not Know Because No One Tells Millennials Anything

Girl in a dryer at a laundomat

Let me preempt this post by saying: maybe you had awesome boomer parents who were wise and gave you guidance and provided you with endless opportunities and pearls of wisdom. In which case, ask them if they are up for adopting a 29-year-old blogger who sometimes only pretends to wash her hands for the comfort of others and is not above eating things out of the garbage.

George Costanza eating out of the trash

But this post is for the rest of my contemporaries who, in our guidance-free lives, use #adulting and call all of our other millennial friends when we discover how to load a fucking dishwasher.

Our general cluelessness and enthusiasm for life hacks has been on my mind a lot and has led me to conduct a very unscientific poll. This week I have been asking all my millennial friends, “What is the best piece of advice you ever got from your parents?”

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Anxiety and Panic Attacks

Woman's hands in a sweater

Is there anything worse than a panic attack? Of course there is. But when one strikes, most of us are willing to sell our own mothers and throw in free shipping to make it stop.

If you are dealing with panic attacks, I know that you are in research overdrive mode and you probably got yourself a fresh bottle of magnesium and a plan and probably a book. Good for you!

Person writing a checklist

No matter how resolute you feel with whatever path you have chosen, save this post. Remember it. You’re going to be processing a lot of information, but bookmark this one. You may need to come back to it.

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The Pride of Poverty and Spoiling Your Kids

Rotten apples on the ground

Today we are tackling a pretty heavy subject: spoiling your children.

Veruca Salt throwing a tantrum

Growing up, my mother used to frequently say, “Money is the source of all evil.”

Not only was money evil but it was a personality killer, a relationship ruiner, and a poison to all things good and decent and fluffy in the world. Because of this, there was quite a shortage of things in my house: running water, reliable electricity, food….

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The Beginner’s Guide to Positive Thinking in Three Difficult Steps

A woman against a sunset at the beach

Confession:

When I am with a client and they start to “go off,” I mean really make a spectacle, a part of me relishes it. I go to my happy place four hours into the future where I waltz into the bar, plop my purse down on the table, and tell my girlfriends, “You’re. Not. Going. To. Believe. This. Shit.” I then revel in their shocked faces while the shit-talking pours freely from my mouth like some kind of Mean Girls-style verbal diarrhea. Lord forgive me.

Like most women with a lot of sauce, the idea of embracing “positive thinking” summons images of girls in skirts made of wheat, singing Kumbaya around a campfire or literally stopping to smell flowers and staring up at the sun to bask in the radiance of the day. Basically, a fucking nightmare.

But…

There are a few mental habits that I have embraced of late, and I feel better for it. So this guide is for my down-to-earth ladies who would like to bring a little positivity into their lives without having to learn to play the ukulele.

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