TSwift

Okay, I'm going to let my inner Taylor out for a minute and whine about my life.
Deep Breath.
So, the stupid cute boy that I don't want to like but kind of still do is hitting on one of my good friends even though she has a gazillion men (okay, at least 2, which is 2 more than me) trying to claim her lady nuts anyway, even though I've known him way longer and he only knows her through me and she keeps telling me she's only talking to him and I know that's true because she's been my friend for a billion years (okay, like since the 8th grade) but the they keep talking and talking and talking and he talks to her about life and such and clearly flirts with her, but when he talks to me it's usually about books and stupid stuff like video games that I suck at, and the only form of flirtation I receive is when he picks on me! And I know that it's stupid because I don't have any claim or right or anything at all on stupid jerkface and I don't even want to like him but I still do and so I feel like she should stop talking to him but that would be incredibly rude of me, and he's like "oh, haha, she told me I have to stop ______ because I _____ and she doesn't like it." And in my head I'm like, "you're a bastard and you should stop talking to my cute friends that aren't as fat as me and pay more attention to me" but what comes out of my mouth is usually something like "hahaha, yeah, that's funny" because we're all secretly twelve and stuck in some weird playground argument over a boy that I hate to like and I'm pouting because he likes her better.
Deep Breath.


Okay, now that that's over and I'm actually a semi-mature adult again, let's talk about something that makes me feel less adolescent.
Bachelorette Party!

Okay, so one of my favorite cousins is getting married in December and I am so pumped because I've been asked to be a bridesmaid, yay! So, after totally facebook stalking the other girls I didn't know (since she ever so sweetly provided us all with names, phone numbers AND email addresses) I quickly realized two things. 1. I am the chunkiest girl. 2. I am the youngest girl.
Well, there's not much I can do about being youngest, I don't have a Delorean or a TARDIS or anything to zap me into an older version of myself, but I AM working on the whole chunky thing. I started Plexus, which I think is gross and everyone else thinks tastes fine.  I do lunges and squats and crunches in my living room, since I don't have a gym membership and I have three small children that I throw into bed at 7pm every night. And I eat healthier and smaller portions. Except for the last half of last week. Then, I didn't work out - I just ate breakfast burritos and watched Netflix because I was sick and hated everything.
Anyway, bachelorette weekend is in September, and someone higher has decided we shall all wear tutus (which I don't have the slightest problem with) and black pumps (which I have every problem with.) I don't wear heels. Brittany in heels is basically like a walking clumsy weapon that could go off at any time.
Let me give you a short list of reasons why heels + me = BAD.

1. I never wear anything higher than 2" wedges, and even then, I only wear them for 10 minutes, then go around barefoot.
2. I have serious knee problems. Like, I randomly fall and cry and have a huge swollen bruised right knee due to some weird floating patella that I discovered when I was 15 and snowboarding down a mountain (I was in a full leg brace complete with crutches for 6 weeks.)
3. I can barely walk in normal people shoes. I'm the one in our family that tends to trip over their own feet. Or, y'know, air.
4. I have the worst sense of balance evvvvver.
5. I am a huge wimp when it comes to my feet hurting. HUGE.

So, after panicking and freaking out about not only wearing heels all night, but wearing heels while drinking and dancing all night, I talked to another favorite cousin (not wanting to talk to engaged cousin, since I don't want to stress her out, even though she'll probably eventually read this blog and tease me about making such a big deal out of shoes) who is also in this wedding party, and have come to the best possible solution.
I'm going to buy some sexy black pumps, and put on that tutu and a black shirt and get dolled up and take pictures with all the other lucky girls my cousin loves enough to include in her weekend of freedom, and look awesome. Then I'm going to get in the car, and put some black shoes on that I can realistically walk in. Probably chucks. Because I personally think they would look adorable with the pink tutus. Unless I'm told that I should wear flatts. Then I'll wear regular people flatts. ;)

On to my next big topic.
MAH HURR.
my hair is growing, slowly and surely. I love it. I love length and I love how I look with long hair.
BUT. I am a single mom of three. I don't have time for hair. I barely have time to brush Xiaden's hair in the parking lot of daycare! My pinspired hair styles have dwindled down to nothing because I keep failing the tutorials and end up looking like some caveman and run a brush through the tangles and put it in a pony tail before I even think of documenting it for this blog. Bah humbug. I'm awful.
So, I am thinking of cutting it. Cutting a couple of inches of dead inches off the bottom, cutting layers into it, work on some framing of my round face (it's how people can tell I'm Irish, I'm told. Apparently Irish people have round faces) and maybe, just mayyyybe cutting some long swoopy bangs into this mop. Then get some high lights and low lights and look all around awesome. It could be fun. Feel free to send me pins on the Pinterest of cuts and styles you think would look good with my round Irish head and borderline Rapunzel hair.

Lalalauve you!
Brittany Lindsey
AGE: 12.