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2Phatgeeks.com Posts

Grief has no plot, like my blog posts.

I wrote on the 16th of November on the dreaded book of the face, how I found it distressingly amusing that in times of personal grief instead of being the lovable weird pink monster of glitter over sharing that I usually am—I lose all ability to communicate as I would normally do. Usually, I over share. I am, as a friend once told me, much like a too enthusiastic golden Labrador retriever stuck in a human body. I want to run and jump and over-share and wag my tail and be sad and happy and all the things without a…

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I Carry your Heart With Me

9 and 1/2 years ago we lost an almost 20lb meatball of claws and purrs named Raven. She came to Shawn well before he ever met me, via a lady who I believe asked him, “Hey, want a cat? We don’t want it anymore,” and became the illusive meatball ninja of almost-feral timidness that also demanded pets and scratching but only on her terms. When Raven passed, we were finally living on our own in a one bed room apartment instead of with my husband’s parents which, at our ripe old age of mid 30’s was a fuckin’ step up…

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Why makeup? And why now?

Yesterday this giant company launched a new palette. Today, 7 other giant makeup brands have launched their palette, with 4 more palettes in the series to launch after each week. There are millions of subscribers watching millions of these artists on YouTube and there are millions more whom are jaw-shattering level amounts of talented there, on instagram, on facebook, on tumblr. The makeup and skincare industry has taken off and millions are creating –literally–face changing, illusion making, brain shattering makeup looks, trends and FX. We’re glutted by advertisements telling us to hide this, tuck that, inject these, lose pounds here,…

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Love Is Not

I rolled out of bed sometime around 6:30 am. Like most of my generation and anyone who has ever gone to school Monday to Friday, I dread Mondays. I don’t professionally have a reason why. After all, I am the worst at psychology–I lived with my depression, Bi Polar II and probably anxiety untreated for decades because I just thought that’s how everybody do. So I go through my morning (I originally spelled it, “mourning,” and maybe that’s also true) routine, got my coffee, sat down, tooled about on the internet and then clocked in and went to work writing…

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The Secret to Bullet Journaling

WILL SHOCK YOU! CLICK HERE N–okay, okay I feel gross and highly amused that I typed that. Sorry. But now that class is in session, let us talk a moment about a Thing and that Thing shall be: Bullet Journals. Here’s some stuff I hear about Bullet Journals all the time: It looks complicated. I wouldn’t know where to start? I can’t afford good pens. I’m not artistic. My hand writing isn’t good enough. I don’t have an instagram. My camera’s not good enough to take fancy pics I don’t have a bullet journal I can’t afford a bullet journal…

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Things You Can Say to Cats

But generally not to fellow humans. At least. Usually you shouldn’t say them to strangers. I guess? Me: Watching the cats eat in the hallway, standing near Isis’ bowl, because the other cats tend to inhale their food then just push her out of the way and eat hers. Crinkles finishes and meanders over the dry food. Tinkles then finishes and meanders right over to Crinkle’s. Specifically, his butt. Face-plants herself in it. “Ahh, yes–” I say to Shawn. “Nothing says dessert quite like a face full of ass.” My husband: “I know when I finish supper, there’s nothing like…

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The Angel and the Bear

Angels are often not after the business of bears you see. They are busy creatures going to and fro, flitting here and there and trumpeting things or announcing this and that. Very important people, angels are, and they never stop. Always so happy and always so go-get, swooping and singing and going about their day with no time for those below them or around them. Unfortunately, angels often did not have time for one another, either. One angel was a complete mess. Just a complete and total mess really. She was a little rounder than the other angels, and prone…

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Beauty & The (Beast) Bulletjournal

When I was 12, I cried because I was too chubby to fit into a thrift store dress. It was for a Halloween school dance. I wanted to be a princess. When I tried it on at home during the last minute, my mother couldn’t find a way to make it fit. Eventually, the zipper went up, but it busted. I went. But I haven’t forgotten. I never really got into beauty as a teenager. “Someday, I will find someone who will love me for who I am, not what I look like.” Snickering laughter. “No. That’s not how it…

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Hurricane Dorian and Cat Food: a stinky tale.

Hurricane Dorian made my butt clench in anxiety, I am not going to lie. Florida was a little messed up during the week up to the hurricane which ended up being not much more than a tropical storm with a few droplets of rain–making life here inconvenient. The worst thing that happened to me during Hurricane Dorian was that we decided it would be a great idea to buy our 5 cats Hurricane treats, as you do when you are irreverent hurricane Floridian fucks. So we got some cans of Fancy Feast (not sponsored, thank you) to feed our beloved…

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Yes. That is my face, and other life updates.

If there is anything I can say about myself with 100% certainty 100% of the time, it would be that I am always trying. Sometimes, I’m trying new things. Sometimes I am trying more new things. Other times, I am trying to exist or trying to be a better person or trying my damnedest not to be an angry pit of despair. Whatever it is, I’m trying, o.k? Like you are trying. Or at least, I think everyone should be trying. Trying to write more, trying to fight the good fight, trying to do whatever it is we can do…

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