So Happy I'm Thirty

I would like to begin this blog with one of my very favorite Aaron K. Beasley stories. Picture this, 2014 before we had Youngie, before we were married. Just a couple of kids living our best life. Drinking beers. Hanging out. Aaron and I decide to go brewery hoppin’ in Athens with his parents. This is also the story of time I pulled down my pants in the living room and tried to pee at the game table in front of Aaron’s whole family. I will not divulge those particular details on a social media platform, but I will gladly tell you over a margarita sometime.  Back to the point of this story-which is Aaron. I learned that day that Aaron is the self-proclaimed King of Athens. Who knew? He has the low down. Knows all the hot spots. Basically a local. He is going on and on and on about all the times he spent there in college with “my boys”. Aaron is so excited to be everyone’s guide to the Athens experience that he needs to approve everyone’s outfit before we depart. “You have t...

According to Urban Dictionary, obviously the only dictionary that matters in 2019, Boujee is defined as High class, flossin’, ballin’. One who possesses swag. Elite. Rich. Use it in a sentence, you ask. Ok: My is bitch is bad and boujee.  A more appropriate definition comes from Dictionary.com: haughty, elitist , snobbish. The origin is from 1965–70, Americanism; shortening and alteration of bourgeois. Ok, enough with the definitions and origin of bougie or boujee, whichever you prefer. I have a friend in Atlanta who moved here around the same time I did. She once said over dinner, “Atlanta is sneaky boujee.” This sentence stuck with me because it.is.so.true.  Atlanta is weird because it is super diverse. Like, some bougie, you totally expect. For example, the entire city of Buckhead. Bougie y’all. Real bougie. But, then there’s the other pockets that give the illusion of hipsterism or granolaism, do not be fooled. Still bougie.  I remember the ex...

Well, ladies and gentleman. I made it through my 30th year. I’m now the ripe old age of 31. Thirty taught me a lot. Thirty kicked my tail a little.  Mainly, thirty taught me what “adult” means. I’m not talking about the noun, here. I’m going straight for the verb. We’ve all seen those cute shirts that say “I can’t adult today” or the hashtag #adulting. Y’all, adulting is hard. I didn’t choose the adult life. It chose me. And it is hard. Quite honestly, I can’t do all the adult things. I’ve learned that you have to pick and choose your adult things. To do all of the adult things in the same day would be my worst nightmare. I literally couldn’t leave the house. I probably wouldn’t smile all day long. Take a look at the following. Tell me you can do all of these things. I don’t believe you. Brush your teeth twice a day. Sure, this one is easy. Who doesn’t brush their teeth twice a day? I’ll tell you who didn’t, me in my twenties. My oral hygiene is questionable at best....

The Beasleys are not good at all the things, but we are good at some of the things. In fact, I made a not so comprehensive list. Things we are good at: Grilling meats Drinking wine Exercising Making people (read: ourselves) laugh Things were are bad at: Laundry Being on time Remembering things Potty training humans & also dogs There is one thing that we are really, really good at- The Beasleys can dream some big dreams. And we can also just go for it. I love that about us. We aren’t afraid of falling. We aren’t afraid of failing. I, personally, detest being told no. But after I cry about it and drink wine, I’m find again.  Aaron, on the other hand, doesn’t care if you tell him no. He will scoff at you and move on in Aaron Beasley fashion. The absurdity! We take chances and we make risky choices. Our lives have ended up being really, really exciting. Also very chaotic and busy and at times overwhelming. You can be at peace and rest when you’re dead. When...

I started this blog when I was on the brink of turning 30. I just knew really amazing things were on the horizon. I was on the brink of greatness. This next decade would inevitably be a life-changing, climactic, turn of events kind of chapter in this novel of my life. I turn 31 next week. You know what I didn’t expect my 30’s to be filled with...poop. I can honestly say, I never saw this one coming. Don’t get me wrong, there have been some life-changing events. Some climatic and unexpected turn of events. We’ve essentially started a new life since I turned 30. But, it is also filled with a lot of poop. No one ever talked about this. Jennifer Gardner didn’t prepare me for this in Thirteen Going on 30. None of the reality shows alluded to this dark underbelly of the third decade of life. I’m getting it from all sides. I have a toddler, I have a puppy, and weirdly enough, I even deal with this at work. No, I do not work with babies or at a daycare center, or even an elderly ho...

2019. Deep sigh. Of course I have some reflective things to share here, some goals to attain, some hopes for the upcoming year. But first, a ridiculous moment of 2019. Like all of you, I resolved to start the New Year off on a healthy foot! I’ve been be all chocolate, cookies, cheese, wine, vodka, burgers, pizza, tacos for like a month. So, on December 30th, I spent my life savings on a 3 Day Juice Cleanse. Get this- TO BE PICKED UP ON JANUARY 1st. No collards- and it’s a good thing because apparently there are no collards left in SC or GA, No black eyed peas or juicy steak- just juice. Like all the things- this was not well planned, it was an impulsive choice and followed by a hasty execution. I woke up this morning at 8:30 with a class 5 hangover. My husband should know by now that I can’t make my own drinks. I get my sweatpants on and wash my red lipstick off, and I head to the juice store. I pick up my fancy juices. I instagram my fancy juices. I google “how to do a ju...