• Humor,  Womanhood

    Laces out.

    It’s the one day of the year you can be anyone. You are not who you were born to be. You can slip out of your own clothes and into someone else’s. You can be dead. You can be a fictional character brought to life. You can be a celebrity. You can change sexes. You can even change from a human, if you really wanted to. You can attempt murder on Dan Marino because he didn’t place the football with THE LACES OUT. He forced me to miss the kick – thus losing the game – in the final play of Super Bowl XVII against the San Francisco 49ers. I’m…

  • Humor,  Womanhood


    You know when you were a kid and your mom yelled at you for pulling your sister’s hair? You knew better but did it anyway. There’s no way of “accidentally” pulling your sister’s hair. You know after years into adulthood, you get the lecture by the dental hygienist for not flossing well enough? You’re ashamed because you remembered to floss but you’re also a lazy ass and don’t want to get out of the warm bed and walk on the cold tile floor. Shame. Shame on you. The index finger shake. The shame shake. The you-knew-better shake. You know when you’re driving along the road and you think to yourself,…

  • Fitness,  Humor,  marriage,  Womanhood

    Swipe up.

    Swipe right. You’re good-looking. Swipe left.  You’re not good-looking. The terms swipe right and swipe left are terms from the dating app, Tinder. I am married. I have two daughters, two dogs, a cat, a beautiful home, and my iPhone stores my credit card number for me. I swipe up.  I swipe up on Instagram stories. I swipe up all the time. I swipe up when Scott’s asleep next to me. I swipe up in front of his face as he’s talking to me. School car line? Swipe up. Grocery store line? Swipe up! Sitting in the parking lot of the gym? Fling!  If you’re wondering, “Julie, what the hell are you talking about.”…

  • Womanhood

    You need this in your life.

    Let’s talk about things. Stuff. Shit you don’t need but want. The crap your friends tell you, “oh my God, you need this.” Notice I said tell you and not sell you. There’s a huge difference. I understand people enjoy running an at-home business. Whether it’s selling makeup, jewelry, purses, skin care treatments, leggings, tupperware, is tupperware still a thing? Their target market is you – their friend. I will always buy from friends. It’s not that I’m necessarily sold on a product but I’ll buy from you because I’m your friend. I’m not trying to sell anything. No, I take that back. You need to buy my book. Here’s the sales…

  • Oh Emma Oh Kate,  Parenting,  Womanhood

    The birth of Kate.

    Good evening. It’s May 7, 2017. Kate is eight years old today. It’s story time here on the blog. I can’t think of a better story than the birth of Kate. I’ve never written Kate’s birth story. I’m a little surprised at this because birth stories are one of those staple stories we, as parents, tell one another. Placentas, foot-long needles to the spine, a smear of poo on your baby as it slides out – I mean, there’s no filter when it comes to birth stories. No, I didn’t poo on Kate. Before I begin the story, I will tell you I am feeling more pain now than I did…

  • Parenting,  Womanhood


    It’s called chivalry. A gentleman should always hold the door open for a lady. A gentleman should offer his jacket if a lady gets cold. Is chivalry dead? Not unless the woman kills it. I can open the door myself, thank you.  The person that gets to the door first should hold the door open for the following person. Regardless of gender, anyone that wants to give up their coat for a someone that is cold is simply a nice person. Or maybe they’re just hot. It’s a new era. The 2017 etiquette for men has new rules. One rule, really. Flowers are always nice. No, forget the flowers. The one rule: never say the word relax.  I take that back – you can say…

  • NaBloPoMo,  Womanhood

    A hairy situation.

    Bloody tampons. See ya, men! ……….. ……….. ……….. Did they leave yet? I’ll wait. I love having code words to get men out the room. They scatter like a flock of birds when a woman starts running towards them, flapping her arms, and screaming crazy talk. Just us ladies? Cool. Men. I don’t understand their minds. I thought I did. I thought I knew Scott. I’ve known the guy for 15 years. Scott is like most men. The answer is always yes or no with Scott. Scott knows what he likes. He’s messy and unorganized. He’s athletic. He takes pride in opening a jar of spaghetti sauce but he’s not cocky. He loves making others…

  • Hunting,  NaBloPoMo,  Womanhood

    The white marlin.

      You could pass this picture off as three men holding a white marlin. No one would question it. Just three friends showing off their giant fish before releasing it back into the ocean. A weeklong “man-cation,” as they say, off the coast of the Dominican Republic.  Really, bulging veins? I can tell you pictures aren’t always as they seem. It was an epic battle in the open sea. A battle against a woman and a white marlin. And the men called her Hercules.  ___________ Wait, don’t go! Find me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

  • NaBloPoMo,  Womanhood

    My date with Amy Schumer.

    ** Warning: This post is rated R. I’m not a G-rated writer by any means but Scott’s grandma reads this and I felt I should post a warning. It’s Amy Schumer, come on. ** I am not a lesbian. Amy Schumer is not a lesbian either. But that’s not going to stop me from calling Amy Schumer my date because my go-to male date was crushing on a male deer from a treestand. Amy did everything right. She told me to put away my cell phone. She never picked up hers. She talked. I listened. She had the wit and delivery to send my ab muscles into spasms. I left…

  • Humor,  Womanhood

    Dude looks like a lady.

    It was a normal Saturday night, really. A small group of neighbors and friends gathered to celebrate a surprise birthday for oh, let’s just call her Chrissy. While Chrissy ate dinner with her spouse, the preparations began. The mascara wands whipped out, panty hose pulled on (with the fun prints!), party dresses went over heads and accessories pulled the final look together. Oh, the hair. There were no mom buns or yoga pants because this is Chrissy’s party and Chrissy isn’t that kind of woman. Chrissy is not a plain woman. Oh no, Chrissy is extravagant and her friends were extravagant with her. The hair was let down. Perfume sprayed. Cleavage up. Nails dry. And out the…