One Rule

If you've seen The Fault in Our Stars,

you know what an encouragement is.

Like Augustus' mom, I enjoy seeing encouragements in the spaces I spend the most time in. 

I have a wall in my office with a bunch of giant canvas black-and-white photos of the Tiny Human. 

And I just recently added this encouragement below her pictures:

I need to be better at this. 

Be your wild courageous brilliant self every single day.

No matter what.

I have found, at least for me, it's easiest to be this most awesome version of myself when I am surrounded with equally brilliant and wild people.

Like LakeGirl, for one. Or my favorite people from law school. 

Morning Jo, mean-mugging' style

Last weekend, I sneaked away for the day and got to reconnect with a few of my soul mates. 

I haven't seen my friend, Count, since we graduated, which is totally unacceptable but life has just gotten in the way. But we finally found a way to connect and it was amazingly wonderful.

We fell back in to place like we had just seen each other, 

when in reality almost four years have gone by. 

Friends like that are the bestest.

It's so hard to describe, but my heart just felt happy the entire time I was "back home."

We spent some time at an old fave hang-out,

Atwater Beach.

The colors in Wisconsin this time of year are my favorite.

You can see why it's so true when I say my favorite color is October.

We also acted like ridiculous weirdos and made an obscene number of slo-mo videos on the beach.

LakeGirl had her new iPhone and we sort of stumbled across the slo-mo video feature and let's just say we rocked it like a boss. 

Think Chariots of Fire. 

Literally. 

It was that awesome. 

We also hit up the best burger/bloody Mary joint in the whole city . . .

and got to witness this beast going down at the table across from us.

Holy Moses- 

that's an entire deep fried chicken, 

two mini cheeseburgers and skewers galore of other meats and cheeses and creatures-of-the-sea.

I really, really wanted to pose with the Bloody Beast but my friends assured me that would be all sorts of awkward and weird, which is likely why I wanted to do it. 

You know, 

Be your wild courageous brilliant self every single day.

My intentions were good.

So instead of creeping on a bunch of random people's dinner,

I just consumed about ten pounds of frickles at my own table. 

What's a frickle, you ask?

A gift from the gods.

It's a deep fried pickle french-fry. 

And eating ten pounds of them?

Brilliant.

Don't Forget To Be Awesome

Until about three months ago, give or take, 

I didn't really drink coffee.

You know, like straight-up, black, plain-Jane coffee. 

As in, "Hello barista sir. I will have a coffee, please."

I have previously talked about my obsession with Starbucks,

but my pre-three-ish-months-ago order was all sorts of jacked-up weirdness,

with the root source of said weirdness being a latte.

I loved sitting in coffee shops, but not because they made coffee.

I bought a sweatshirt that said in all big, bold letters "COFFEE" even though I didn't drink coffee.

I would invite people to "meet me for coffee," but I wouldn't actually get coffee.

I know. It's all sorts of oxymoronic madness. 

But that's me, so just try to keep up.

And then I woke up one morning, and just like that, 

I decided I loved coffee.

I attribute this mostly to LakeGirl but not so much because she's awesome and my north star when it comes to guiding life's decision making,

but more so because she insisted I borrow her collection of Gilmore Girls DVDs.

And after watching obsessively in marathon fashion Lorelai caffeinate over and over and over,

 I figured, in a truly logical manner of course,

"Huh. Lorelai drinks coffee. Lorelai is awesome. Coffee must be awesome."

And yeah. I didn't pay much attention to the fact that Lorelai wasn't real. And in the end it didn't matter much because the equation was totally legit. Coffee is awesome.

Becoming a coffee drinker has had several unexpected bonuses:

1. I spend less money at Starbucks. High five to being all economical me.

2. On Tuesdays-Thursdays (the days I have decided I will no longer stop at Starbucks on the way to work), I have this fun new morning routine once I get to the office and it's really quite enjoyable. I drop my crap off in my office, turn on my computer and then head to the kitchen to make a few pots of coffee. One of my dream jobs has always been to be a waitress, and when I scurry around the kitchen changing coffee filters, and filling carafes and organizing the coffee mugs in the cupboard (and yes, this is part of the routine), I feel all domesticated and fabulous. Don't judge. One of the best parts of life is being able to find joy in the most ridiculous of little things. 

3. Because I make the coffee (see no. 2 above), the partner whose office is next to mine always stops by to wish me a happy morning and thank me for making the coffee. And this makes me smile. 

4. I have started a collection of exceptionally amazeballs coffee mugs. So yeah, this sort of makes the saving money part of No. 1 moot, but meh. The mugs make me happy. Especially this one.

And by the way, that is in fact a pizza grease stain on my jeans.

 Lunch was especially delicious today. 

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream . . .

I figured by quoting Shakespeare, at least this post would start on a classy note . . .

no promises for how it will end.

So the downside to this whole secret blog venture is I can't post real, legit pics of me, 

or the Tiny Human,

which is unfortunate,

because the Tiny Human is super cute and really rad.

You're not really missing much with the absence of my mug.

But on the flip side, the Tiny Human does make a great unicorn,

so there's that for a silver lining.

Exhibit A

So Octoberpalooza month means I dress the Tiny Human in all things Halloween,

day and night.

Exhibit A is evidence of that, with her all spooky and awesome'-like rockin' her Baby Gap Boo jammies.

So with Exhibit A in mind,

know that I totally felt like a dirty tramp when I cheated on October by not only purchasing but wearing these beauts last night:

Thy eyes doth not deceive thee. 

Those are in fact flamingos, wearing Santa hats . . .

and yes, yes you do spy with your little eye tiny little mobile trailer homes to boot,

with Christmas lights strewn about the trailer-home aluminum windows.

Target, you done real good this time. 

Sweet October

Yesterday got away from me . . .

but know this.

In my humble opinion, there is no month in the year more glorious than sweet October.

I also love Halloween and as a result, 

my daughter has been subjected to what I've lovingly deemed "Octoberpalooza."

Beginning October 1st and until the stroke of midnight on All Hallow's Eve, 

I dress her in Halloween-inspired attire from head to toe,

Every. Single. Day.

This year, I upped the crazy and have insisted that the Tiny Human's jammies also be donned with skulls or skeletons or witchy-like monsters consuming copious amounts of candy. 

It's all sorts of over-the-top and admittedly nuts,

which makes me love that we do this even more.

I was sort of worried that the Tiny Human would protest this year . . .

so I preempted the anticipated resistance by taking everything totally out of her closet,

 leaving only the Halloween Octoberpalooza approved items behind.

That way, when she demands to dress herself,

she'll dress appropriately.

Genius.

To my extreme delight, though, the Tiny Human actually seemed legit excited about the madness,

and was genuinely giddy about revamping her closet on Monday night.

She woke up earlier than usual on October 1st,

before I had to leave for work, 

and the first words out of her mouth were, 

"I wear Haw-wo-ween shirt today."

Done. And. Done.

Fall

Another random thing you should know about me . . .

I am obsessed with fall. 

It is my favorite season by far and of all of the fall months,

October makes me the happiest.

So tomorrow is a pretty big day.

Everything here is accurate,

except the wool blanket bit.

I'm allergic to wool so plaid wool blankets actually make me feel itchy,

not warm and fuzzy. 

And if I'm being totally honest,

I'm not in love with pumpkin flavored stuff.

I will totally have a PSL because I feel like it's a mandatory fall right-of-passage thing to do,

but meh. I could probably take it or leave it.

But the rest?

Yes, yes, and yes.

I am so in love with fall. 

Why I Fell In Love

I believe people can fall in love more than once. 

And I also believe it's possible to have a lifelong love affair with a something rather than a someone. 

Or at least that's true for me.

On the list of my great loves is Starbucks.

But here's the thing . . . it's not just the coffee.

Actually, it's not really the coffee at all, at least not entirely.

But anyone who really knows me knows that me and Starbucks, we're a thing.

I start every single Monday with my favorite drink,

which took me years to perfect and has since evolved into what it is today . . .

and I end my week the same way.

Before I went back to law school,

I worked in corporate America for a little over five years. 

My second job out of college was for a commercial furniture company,

and I loved it.

My boss and I both lived about 40 minutes from our corporate office,

so we carpooled to work together everyday.

And pretty much everyday, we swung through the Starbucks drive-thru before we made it to the office.

When we traveled to Seattle to visit one of our showrooms,

we of course shared our uncontrollable excitement about stopping by the original Starbucks.

Our company hired brandgarten at some point to "re-brand" itself,

and not only was this amazing for our company but I also figured out why exactly it was I had fallen so in love with this Moby Dick inspired coffee shop.

A lot of company's have tag lines, or catchy jingles: 

you know, McDonald's reminds you "I'm Lovin' It,"

while Nike's memorable slogan is "Just Do It" and Miller Lite reminds you it "Tastes Great, Less Filling."

But that's not the same as a brand . . . something I didn't really appreciate until we worked with brandgarten.

If you visit brandgarten's website, you're quickly invited to "Discover the story that connects the soul of your brand with the heart of your consumer." 

You're told that "Your logo is only the flag. Your brand is the culture."

So if you didn't stop by here for a nice Marketing 101 primer, here's what I'm getting at. 

Starbucks' branding message, at least a decade ago, was to make everyday moments matter.

This was nothing you'd hear on an ad or see printed on a tumbler or embossed on a mug,

but it was how every single Starbucks employee was trained to make a customer feel.

Make everyday moments matter

And they did.

That's why I fell in love. 

As cheesy as it sounds, 

I actually feel warm and fuzzy and happier when I'm standing in line, waiting for my coffee,

or chit-chatting with my favorite barista, or casually commenting on the weather to another random person standing in line next to me.

For me, Starbucks has always been an experience and not just a cup of coffee. 

It's why I compulsively have to start my morning every Monday by going through the drive-thru.

It sets the tone for my entire week.

I know I can make a free cup of coffee at work, 

and I'll probably like it just as much as the almost $4.00 latte I buy,

but I will miss out on my Starbucks moment.

I'll miss the experience. 

Starbucks is linked to so many of my silliest, happiest memories,

like this one . . . 

which may be a story for another day,

but it just comes down to this:

I'm head over heels.

Starbucks will always be my happy place,

because whatever they put in that cup is so much more than just espresso and foamed milk and sugar-free vanilla syrup.

For me, it represents so much more . . .

and it makes my heart smile.

And no matter what anyone says,

that will always be so worth the price of a latte.

All photos, except me sticking my face in a snowbank, courtesy of {We Heart It}

I Had A Dream . . .

So I had a dream last night. 

Aaron Rodgers asked me to go to prom with him.

By text.

I mean clearly, 

without even knowing anything about me or the Green Bay Packers or Aaron Rodgers, 

on its face this dream is like all sorts of crazy. 

And then when you learn I am an almost-thirty-four year old whose fifteen year high school class reunion should have happened over the summer but for the fact our once-upon-a-time class president is likely still too busy puffing the magic dragon to coordinate anything so it never happened, which after a long run-on sentence just means that my opportunity to attend a prom expired well over a decade ago . . .

and you figure out I am married and unfortunately am legally bound to a man who is not Aaron Rodgers,

and I have a two and half-year old who sadly was not fathered by said aforementioned quarterback,

and oh yeah, I have never met Aaron Rodgers let alone exchanged phone numbers with,

the amount of crazy this dream represents pretty much goes through the roof.

But I feel like this post is a good way to introduce you all to me and say, 

"Hey. I hope we can be virtual online friends." 

Because I'm all sorts of crazy on a regular basis,

but I embrace it.

And if you can embrace it too than this relationship is going to work swimmingly.

You can only guess what I imagine he's suggesting to me personally in this picture...

So back in the day, when I was in law school, I started a blog and had never done it before but quickly fell in love.

I absolutely love to write. 

And although I am a real-life grammar snob, I don't carry over my penchant for cringing at poorly crafted sentences or misplaced commas to my blog.

I write whatever I feel like writing, 

in a total stream-of-conscious, run-on sentence style. 

I also loved, so very much loved, the virtual community I became a part of.

To this day, I have a circle of "friends" I have never met IRL but who I know better than I know some of the people I interact with on a daily basis.

They mail birthday cards and little goodies for my daughter and send sweet texts . . .

and it is out-of-this-world-amazing.

When I started practicing law, I was "encouraged" to get rid of my blog,

which I did so reluctantly. 

And I have regretted it ever since.

It was so much a part of me and giving it up left a little broken hole in me.

So given what went down with the demise of the old blog,

there's an element of secrecy with this new venture . . .

so you can just call me She Who Must Not Be Named, or SWMNBN for short,

because who doesn't love a good acronym?

And more so, who doesn't appreciate the Harry Potter reference?!?

My BFF/soul mate/partner in crime, LakeGirl, is going to contribute too . . .

because really, whenever the two of us doing anything together,

it's ridiculous and epic and magical so the blog will just be better if it's ours and not mine.

So back to my dream.

I was at a Packers game in one of the fancy schmancy skyboxes, 

and I had on a strapless emerald green dress with gold piping.

WTF? 

That would never happen, I look awful in strapless dresses,

but moving on . . .

So hubs, and yes, I refer to Aaron Rodgers as hubs, try and keep up.

So hubs texts me, during the game . . .

clearly the defense must have been on the field,

and the following text exchange goes down:

12: Nice dress. 

Virtual SWMNBN: Really? I didn't think much of it.

12: Colors are perfect.

(pause, while I take notice of my dress)

Virtual SWMNBN: Huh. I didn't even realize it was green and gold.

12: So you wanna to go to prom with me?

Virtual SWMNBN: Are we getting a hotel room after?

12: Sure. I'll pay.

Virtual SWMNBN: K. That'll work.

Bwhahahaha.

I actually woke up laughing at myself.

I also decided to psycho-analyze this crackpot dream as I was laughing at myself and concluded the following:

1) Prom was involved because I had been watching Season 4 of the Vampire Diaries before falling asleep (yup, I heart pretty much anything having to do with vampires) and Elena had stolen Caroline's dress and Matt and Bonnie were crowned king and queen, and Tyler sneaked back despite Klaus wanting to eat him alive, so prom was on my mind . . .

2) Really nothing else because this is just bananas.

Okay, then. I should get back to work . . .