If you ever have a chance to take a giant, rainbow unicorn float to the beach, I highly suggest you DO IT. Christina bought this bad boy (who we affectionately named Dennis) for $25 at Costco this past winter and yesterday we brought him along with us to Port Aransas, our lifelong favorite beach/city to visit in the great state of Texas. After getting Dennis blown (up), we all hopped on and tried to stay on as my brother, Daniel, pulled us out into the waves. Although we had to karate chop the seaweed and swerve around the jellyfish (my sister, Annie, ended up getting stung on her back), it was still the most fun time ever! We felt like kids again!
Daniel ended up falling asleep on Dennis, so to wake him up I put some Fritos on his back so the seagulls could wake him up, ever so gently, as seagulls do. It. Was. Hilarious.
Best part of any Texas beach trip is going to Whataburger after to gorge on burgers, fries, and coffee flavored milkshakes while your sunburned butts stick to the plastic seats. Speaking of sunburns, this might be the worst one I’ve ever had… Here’s hoping I don’t spend my last couple of days in town in complete misery…
I was 12 when I had my first boyfriend. His name was Chris Cressy. We “dated” for three weeks before he ghosted me just one week after my 13th birthday. For some reason, one that will remain a mystery forever, Chris decided to make the next year of my life miserable. I mean, he had already ripped out my heart and stomped on it, so why not take my already shaky teenage self esteem and drag that through the gutter too?
Chris HATED my guts. He put gum in my hair when I made the mistake of sitting in front of him on the school bus. He called me “pig face” everyday because of my stupid little upturned nose. We had “loathe” as a vocabulary word in 8th grade English, and he made it clear to the whole class who he loathed.
What had I done to deserve this treatment? Nothing.
So what did I do to defend myself or retaliate to Chris’s incessant bullying? Also, nothing.
Even though my feelings were being constantly battered, I was nice to Chris. It was in December 2003 that he decided to cut it out and call off his verbal dogs. I was best friends with his sister and decided to give the entire family Christmas gifts, and when he saw that I gave him my own coveted NOFX tee shirt, he said something along the lines of “Sarah is just so nice. I think I’m going to be nice back.” It was a Christmas miracle!
I know that compared to others’ experiences, my middle school situation was really NBD. Nevertheless, it had a profound effect on my life. I learned that kindness, genuine kindness, cannot be beat. I learned that patience truly is as virtuous as they say. I learned that taking the high road can be a real pain in the ass, but it is absolutely necessary.
After we got over that blip, Chris and I became friends, and remain friends to this day, almost 15 years later! He’s actually a great person, he was just an asshole teenager. (HI, CHRIS! I told you I was gonna use your full name!)
The inspiration to write this stemmed from a collaboration I have with a company called Little Words Project. I love looking down at my wrist and seeing the reminder to simply “be kind,” because I know from personal experience just how important that is. I suppose if you’re reading this post and are looking for something to take away from it all, hear me now: Kindness will always win.
Now this is stuck in my head: “Be kind to your web footed friends, for a duck may be somebody’s mother”
When you meet a new person, and you really want to get to know him/her, what are the questions you ask? “What’s your favorite color?” is a common inquisition, typically asked by kids age 5-12. Also, what does a person’s favorite anything say about them? Not much! Favorite things are too fleeting to determine whether or not you’re talking to a sociopath.
I love when strangers or acquaintances ask “what’s your sign” and when they hear the answer, give a knowing “ahhhhh” with a look that says “no wonder you’re such a bitch!!!” (this happens a lot on The Real Housewives). Sure, yes, maybe astrology has its points… But Joel and I are both, technically, Sagittarius and we don’t exactly fit under that umbrella together. Let’s dig deeper…
…. but first….
I did this blog photoshoot and it, very obviously, has nothing to do with what I’m talking about, it’s just part of my blogging brand: talking about stuff with pictures of me, in case you forgot how stylish and adorable I am (you did?! how could you?!). Plus, if you’re anything like me, you need visual aids to push you through and break up all the talking. I digress…
My new favorite question to ask: What’s your Myers Briggs test score?
I first took the MB back in Psychology 101 and I remember being disappointed at the results because I got an E instead of an I, meaning I was more extroverted than introverted. I’M NOT AN EXTROVERT, I’M SHY AS HELL!!!! Having taken the same test 4 years later and yielding the exact same results, I’ve happily accepted my fate as an ENFP-T, it makes a lot of sense and it explains the busy body questions I love asking strangers and my interest in other people’s personality types. This is my personality profile, if you care to read more.
Last week, after I took the test again, I asked some other people to take it too and spent most of Wednesday night reading their results and saying to myself “yep! this makes perfect sense!” I especially loved reading about my husband’s personality type, because it’s just so Joel, in a nutshell.
Do yourself a favor and take the personality test that I linked above (IT’S FREE!). I’m genuinely interested in reading into these and would love to know what you get! Where my other Campaigners at?!
WE *JUST ABOUT* DID IT! WE *JUST ABOUT* MADE IT TO OUR FIRST WEDDING ANNIVERSARY (actual date is the 14th), as if anyone ever doubted they’d find us here, ha! It feels like it was just yesterday that we officially became The Blumers in the eyes of both God and the state of Pennsylvania…
It’s pretty funny how quickly we embraced the life of being a boring, old married couple after our honeymoon. Sure we’ve travelled to some cool places since last May (like Toronto and NYC), hosted parties, and explored our city; but our life together as major homebodies is my favorite thing. We spent the first 2.5 years of our relationship mostly separated (I was living in Texas, Joel in PA) as well as the 9 months leading up to our wedding (I was working/living in Ohio), so sorry not sorry that we spend most of our time cuddling on the couch while we binge watch Breaking Bad and The Office on rotation ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.
Hence the “theme” of our first anniversary photo shoot…
A Few Good Mundane Memories:
the two days after the wedding madness, right before leaving for our honeymoon, when we got to just chill with our families and remaining friends in town.
the day we got our a/c fixed after what felt like a lifetime of being too sweaty to so much as hug.
adopting our kittens, who are basically our placeholder children for the next five years.
decorating for our first Christmas as a married couple and realizing how much our kittens love to ruin/eat most Christmas decor.
dancing our asses off to our wedding playlist in our living room while cleaning up after a party.
when we were on our way home late one Friday night and Joel pulled the car over so I could roll down the window and make eye contact with a raccoon in our neighborhood.
Joel growing his first beard.
After a year, I still get as giddy as a school girl when I hear Joel call me his wife…. He gets bonus points when he says it with a Borat accent.
I may be late to the game, but wearing vintage dresses is my new thing. For some reason in the past I assumed that if one was to wear vintage anything, one would have to match everything else to the vintage piece. Oh, you found a fifties housewife dress and you want to wear it? You have to wear your hair in a 50s style too, dumb dumb. And don’t even think about stepping out in anything other than shoes of the era. You may end up leaving the house looking exactly like June Cleaver.
Not that all of that is necessarily a bad thing. We’ve all seen 1940s pin-up styled gals on the more hipster side of town or in tattoo shops and they are pulling off the look, complete with victory rolls, effortlessly. God knows that people keep trying to bring back 90s fashion, so there’s that too. But something about wearing a head to toe look from a different time feels a little too costumey.
I had what I refer to as a “dumb blonde epiphany” a few months back when shopping at a local vintage fair: What if I bought this 1960s maxi dress and wore it just how I wear everything else? Then, when people inevitably ask where I got such a lovely garment, I can answer elusively with my nose up in the air: “oh, it’s vintage“. Sounds like an all around win to me.
I don’t have the contact info of the vendor who sold me this blue maxi, but I did get three colorful, loud dresses from this shop that I looooove. This weekend a giant vintage event will take place here in Pittsburgh, and I can’t wait to see what I can score.
In case you haven’t noticed the big change I made to my blog recently, I now have a co-author, my vivacious and bubbly cousin, Christina. It is now our blog. I will continue to write essays about whatever pointless/silly things I happen to be thinking about and regularly post about what I’m wearing and why, while Christina might actually teach you something (she’s a total natural at writing DIY posts).
When I read blogs, I tend to favor posts that help me get to know the person I’m reading about. I always crack up when I get to read posts with random facts about people (like this one that my friends wrote), so without further adieu, here are 20 random ass things about us that you didn’t even realize you need to know.
I like how skunks smell.
If I could trade places with any fictional character, it’d be Rip Van Winkle because I love sleeping so much.
I may act like a literary snob, but most of the things I know about literature were learned from the 90’s PBS show, Wishbone.
I didn’t have cable TV or at-home Internet access growing up, which explains why I watched so much PBS and had to go to the library to keep up with my Myspace correspondents.
I think that Samson from the Old Testament (you know, of Samson and Delilah) might be my spirit animal because I too feel powerless without my hair extensions.
I wish I could carry a tune, but am frequently asked to stop every time I begin to sing.
My husband and I have been together for 6 years, and we’ve still never openly farted in front of each other.
Eight is my lucky number. No it’s not, I don’t have a lucky number I just couldn’t think of anything to write.
If I could only listen to 5 bands for the rest of my life they’d be: Abba, ACDC, Styx, Queen, and idk Drake or something.
I once ate a few bites of undercooked chicken because I didn’t want to hurt the chef’s feelings. I’ve been working on being less passive ever since.
I’m 27 and I can still do the splits.
If I could paint my house like a rainbow, I would, but my husband has some say in the matter.
My hair is always changing color. I prefer fashion colors (pink, purple, silver) over natural ones.
My right leg is one inch longer than my left.
When I sneeze or hiccup, it sounds like a squeaky dog toy.
I was in the hospital the week of my wedding for an emergency gall bladder removal surgery. I honestly thought I was going to get married in the hospital.
I’m a direct descendant of Henry V (as is Sarah).
I had both of my children unplanned.
I play the viola.
I can have an entire conversation using only movie quotes.
Among my 5 siblings, I was dubbed The Artistic One way back in the day. Since The Bossy One and The Cool One were already taken, I was more than happy to accept my fate as the only one who can wield a paintbrush. These days, saying “I was an art major” is one of my favorite pretentious things to say to people who never even asked.
One thing this artsy fartsy gal has been in desperate need of is a space to create. Besides past bedrooms and art classrooms, I haven’t ever really had my own designated space to paint or draw. I’ve always gotten by portably, setting up shop as I go and cleaning up when finished. I have fallen asleep with paper, pens, and markers scattered among my bed many times.
Joel and I always knew we’d have some sort of office space in our home, but didn’t start putting it together until recently. In our three bedroom home, we have our bedroom, “the middle room” (where we have a very big/comfortable but hideous sectional, Joel’s stationary bike, a TV, and two stinky AF litter boxes for our children cats), and our guest room. Since we will probably have to take a wrecking ball to the side of the house to get the giant sectional out (seriously don’t know how we got it in there in the first place), the guest room is underway to double as an office.
Last weekend, I started getting the ideas for our office space/guest room out of my head and into, well, the room. I told Joel I wanted to paint some “out there” murals and he didn’t even bat an eye when I told him my idea to paint an eye print on one of the walls.
I still have a few touch ups, but it only took me a few hours and about $10 worth of paint to finish this. I am loving it. It’s creepy in the coolest way possible.
The inspiration for the wall came from my friend’s Instagram account who had photos of similar eye street art somewhere in Spain. I’m really excited to be working on this space in our home and I feel pretty hashtag blessed to have a husband who is so on board with my wacky decor ideas. Most importantly though, our guests aren’t going to be able to shake the feeling that they’re being watched when they stay with us. That’s so funny to me… Eye can’t stop laughing.