PrettySmart Heart

Be careful where you invest your heart and your emotions, because some things you can’t take back, some things you can’t erase and sometimes those things will feel like they will follow you around for the rest of your life.

It’s better to have a broken heart than one that’s trapped.

I know I can’t take one more step towards you
‘Cause all that’s waiting is regret
And don’t you know I’m not your ghost anymore?
You lost the love I loved the most

And I learned to live, half-alive
And now you want me one more time

And who do you think you are?
Runnin’ ’round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart

You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are?

I hear you’re asking all around
If I am anywhere to be found
But I have grown too strong
To ever fall back in your arms

And I learned to live, half-alive
And now you want me one more time

And who do you think you are?
Runnin’ ’round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart

You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me

Who do you think you are?

Dear, it took so long just to feel alright
Remember how to put back the light in my eyes
I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed
Cause you broke all your promises

And now you’re back
You don’t get to get me back

And who do you think you are?
Runnin’ ’round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart

You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all

-Christina Perri

prettysmart blog… shop.

I got bored yesterday and this is what happened… I give you prettysmartblog shop

So now, for your prettysmart pleasure you can have stuff that says prettysmart all over it (assuming anyone other than myself would want stuff that says prettysmart all over it).

Does size really matter? Part 1

Keep reading and you might not like what you see… but someone has to say it.

I’m a short curvy girl and when I say I have my fair share of insecurities it doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of that issue for me, but I’m also someone who’s deeply committed to being confident, secure, and proud of who I am… and I’m not skinny, nor will I ever be.

There’s nothing wrong with not being skinny… however, if you’re going to not be skinny, you need to do it right.  Skinny is not the only form of attractive… there isn’t any certain type of attractive… not when you really come down to it. Attractive is what you make of what you’ve got and that seems to be the point that a lot of the un-skinny are missing.

I believe being attractive comes down to two things:  being comfortable and having self-respect. It sounds simple enough, and yet, so many people are missing the mark.

Being comfortable doesn’t require justification. You are allowed to be OK with who you are and how you look; no matter who you are or how you look. All of this “real women have curves” stuff is supposed to be a sign of confidence, but too many women say it with such desperation that their insecurity is all too obvious. It is also only half true. If said in a way that suggests that women with curves are the only real women, all we accomplish is to turn the oppressed into the oppressors. The point is, of course, that we’re supposed to be asserting that we who have curves are also real women. Something everyone secretly already knows and for some reason can’t admit out loud — after all, breast implants add curves, don’t they?

Which brings me to my next point… Comfortable women don’t come with a barbie sized chip on their shoulder. Period. If you can’t be BBW without holding a grudge against girls who are smaller than you, then you need to consider what beauty really is.  If you’re worried about being attractive to the opposite sex, your first order of business should be to ditch the attitude, guys don’t like it, and while you’re busy justifying your love handles and knocking girls without them, men will be running in the opposite direction instead of holding on and taking you for a ride.  It’s not you against all the other women in the world… it’s just you. If you can’t be comfortable with your body, how can you expect anyone else to be?

My last words are on self-respect, and this is of particular importance to me. Something I’ve noticed with this movement of accepting yourself is a sense of entitlement. What I mean is that, a lot of women seem to be under the false impression that the only reason to practice self-control in what you eat, or to exercise is for the express purpose of losing weight, and that if you’re “accepting your body as it is” that neither of the above are necessary.  Taking care of ourselves is always necessary and a healthy diet and exercise are a part of that, it doesn’t necessarily have to have anything to do with losing weight. More than anything it’s about being responsible, disciplined, and having self-control. These are attractive attributes, not because they make you look better, but because it shows that you care, that you are reliable and stable.  But the biggest reason to live a healthy life is not what it says to others around you about who you are, it’s what it says to you about who you are. When you take care of yourself you become confident and you get to that place where you are comfortable because you know you have nothing to be ashamed of, that you are capable and self-sufficient. The person who knows these things, is the most attractive person of all.

I chose the picture above for a very specific reason… it’s supposed to represent women of different shapes and sizes and how they are all attractive. But what I see are two women who are comfortable in the knowledge that they are attractive and a 3rd who still seems pretty sure she isn’t. But one of the things which is essential to becoming confident is being able to work what you’ve got no matter who else is in the picture. It is impossible to be confident if you are measuring yourself up to someone else. When you know you are taking care of yourself and you enjoy working what you’ve got, all the measurements disappear. It is easy to forget that fashion isn’t forever. There have been times in the not too distant past of human history when all three of these girls would have been too skinny to be considered attractive to most of the men of that age. It is also easy to forget that what is held up by a culture as an ideal is not necessarily everyone’s personal taste. Some men are genuinely not into skinny, don’t want you to be skinny, would be sad if you got skinny, and are perfectly normal guys, not a freak or a fetishist — and it isn’t just not so skinny guys, either. There is no reason to choose to believe that you can meet a guy who matches your taste for whom you will be his taste. They’re out there. You just have to learn how to carry yourself and present yourself so that he can find you.

I’m not a dater, I’m a hater.

Speaks for its self.

I’m upset and instead of going to bed as I should, I’m going to eat a cookie and blog.  I would only toss and turn anyway.

I can’t do anything about the things that are bothering me right now, so as an alternative, I’m going to unleash on something else (I should mention here that the topic of this blog is completely unrelated to my current state of distress)

I am a girly girl. I love romantic comedy… even thought they are completely unrealistic, and yet, I hate dating. Especially first dates.

After the end of an intense relationship, I went on a dating binge, most of which never moved beyond the first date and this is how I learned that I hate dating. I’m willing to admit that it isn’t entirely dating’s fault. Part of it is most definitely connected to the state I was in at the time. Heart broken doesn’t even begin to describe that period of my life, I was devastated.  Dating was, absolutely, the last thing I needed to be doing… but at the time I was desperate to fill the incredible void I suddenly found myself with, and it seemed like trying to fill the void with hyper social activity would do the trick. I was wrong. Very. Very. Wrong.

Thank God, when I look back, most of it was funny, although there were some definite mistakes.  It’s actually the funny ones that taught me that I didn’t want to date anymore, and those are the stories I will use to illustrate my point and inspiration for this blog post ( besides, I don’t to completely indulge my bad mood.)

There were more first dates than I can to admit to, honestly, so I’ve chosen to relieve three for your amusement.

The first was with whom I’ll nick name for this post Random Inappropriate Guy. This first date was so odd that I completely fail to remember all of the details surrounding how we ended up on the date in the first place. We met at a Fire Bowl restaurant and 5 minutes in, he began to explain to me how he considers himself a “sexpert” and apparently wrote about sex for some sort of living. Like the guy version of Carrie Bradshaw.  The best part was when he started going into graphic detail about his “reasearch” for his writing. I’m not sure how I managed to make it through the whole meal, but needless to say, I never saw him again.

Next up was John. I keep John’s name because for some reason it just seems to fit better than giving him a nick name. John was a blind date, set up via email by a girl I knew at the time. John seemed nice and so we agreed to meet at a Mexican food restaurant in Austin for dinner. We’d exchanged pictures and so everything seemed like it would go smoothly.  When I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, John pulled in at the same time, in fact, he parked right in front of me. I thought this was perfect, it would save us the awkwardness of trying to find each other inside. Except that before I could even open the door to my car, John jumped out of his and literally ran inside. I was sort of stunned. I sat in my car wondering for a while if perhaps seeing me in person had changed his mind, and in the end I decided to call him to spare myself the humiliation of walking through a crowded restaurant just to be rejected. When he answered he acted as though he hadn’t seen me and then lied and said he had been in the bar for a while. That should have been my cue to put my car in reverse and drive home… instead I went in, in spite of my confusion.  John spent an hour trying to make plans with me for the next 6 months, John also used his pinky finger to tuck his far-to-long-for-my-taste blonde hair behind his ear, and John talked excessively about how much he wants children. On the walk out to our cars, I sensed that John was going to try to kiss me, and I did something I’m not proud of, and hope I will never resort to ever again. As John started to make his moves… I faked a sudden cold coming on, completely with fake sneezing and sniffling.  Don’t judge.

I’ve saved the best for last because this particular first date is both the best and worst first date I’ve ever been on to date… We’re going to call this young man Bad Timing. Bad Timing found me on Myspace (don’t get me started) and asked me out plan and simple and I said no. I said no the second and third time he asked me out as well. After being shot down the third time, Bad Timing changed his approach and asked if he could just call me, and I caved. Surprisingly we had a lot to talk about… and I enjoyed the conversation. We had such a good connection, I further relented and agreed to go out with him. It was late November and I needed to pick up a gift for my sister’s birthday. Bad Timing agreed to meet me there and then take me to dinner.  I was in the makeup store, searching for my sisters gift when he walked in, we spotted each other, and both realized at the same time we were wearing matching outfits and started laughing. It was cute… and so was he.  He took me to Chez Zee and we had more good conversation, fancy dinner, fancy wine, and fancy desert. Everything was going so smoothly, it might as well have been a scene from a movie! Given that it was so good, there are details that I’m not going to share, and so I’m skipping right to the end of the date. Bad Timing drove me back to my car (it was parked in front of the store we’d met at). I’d thought that he might try to kiss me earlier in the evening, but he hadn’t and I’d decided that was best anyway, so I was completely caught off guard when, while I was trying to heave my large purse over my shoulder and unbuckle my seat belt at the same time, he leaned in for a kiss. To put it nicely the kiss was awkward, Bad Timing had had very bad timing, indeed. The rest of the date had gone so well, however, that I was willing to over-look that, which I told my sister on the phone as I drove home.  Alas, I wouldn’t even have the opportunity to  over-look it because, lo and behold ,the next morning I received a text from Bad Timing saying that he didn’t think we should see each other again because “there was no spark when we kissed”. Up until then, I didn’t even know guys said things like that.

The thing that I hate about dating is that, really, it’s a setup for disaster if you’re even mildly interested in something that will last. It’s like going on a job interview… you get dressed up, you try to highlight all of your best qualities and usually as a result, don’t act like your self at all, which is a.) exhausting and b.) misleading.  Also it’s skipping the all the substance of what makes a relationship. I feel like romance should be born of friendship… which almost sounds trite considering that’s what everyone says. Everyone wants to fall in love with their friend… which is why it puzzle me to no end that we continue to date.  Dating is already assuming a romantic position when you haven’t even established a friendship yet.  It doesn’t make sense to me… so I refuse to do it any longer, I have no regrets about quitting the awkwardness of first dates either.

Which means, for me, that one of two things will be true in my life, either a.) I will be alone forever, or b.) there will be a better way to do this, and I’ll someday find a someone without having to date them. =)

/end rant.

What are they thinking?

photo credit to marieclaire.com

I have a very good friend who happens to be male and we have an ongoing conversation about the differences between the way men and women think… or rather I should say he’s constantly decoding guy-speak for me.

I can say without shame and with confidence that I fail to boast in other areas that I do not understand men.  I don’t even understand myself half of the time, like right now for example, I feel all out of sorts and I don’t really know why. Men might as well be from another planet as far as I am concerned.

This morning I read an article on a webpage I can’t remember the name of now that was titled 10 things guys wish girls knew. Aside from the fact that it sounded to me like a girl wrote it, the only thing I can remember from the list was that apparently guys wish we knew that we looked better without “all that makeup”. You can (hopefully) understand why, considering my profession, I feel more than a little defensive when it comes to a statement like that, but more than offended or defensive, I feel confused. I feel confused because I’ve also heard complaints from men about how some women just don’t take care of themselves or fix themselves up the way they should.

I’m also confused because all of these celebrity women that guys idolize are covered in makeup. Does this mean that you guys just don’t want girls you might actually have a shot with to have makeup on? Is makeup a romance roadblock?

So, in order to clear my own head (maybe) I want to run a poll, the first question is directed towards girls and the second towards the gentlemen (as I’m not sure how many guys actually read here, I’d appreciate it if you ladies would direct your guy friends towards the link) and we shall see for ourselves…

For the ladies…

…and the fellas

Day 6: This isn’t really going to be about day 6…

It’s going to be about relationships. Which is not something I talk about often or lightly.

I chose this image for this post because when I did a google image search on relationships, it was one of the only images that came up that didn’t feature either a couple kissing, or a couple with their backs turned to each other. Funny, isn’t it, that what seems to depict “relationships” is either passion attracting two people, or passion repelling them, and in either case, the focus is on passion. This picture stood out in the bunch because I see it representing trust, which is what I think the focus of any relationship should be… but let me stop there on that line of thought, because “relationships built on trust” is probably a speech most of us have heard before, and while I do believe in it, I’m a person whose trust has been deeply broken, and I’d like to take this to a more personal level and get down to what really inspired me to talk about this often cringe-worthy subject.

Yesterday I had the pleasure ( a word I am using lightly) of having lunch near a table sitting at which were a woman, her maybe 3-year-old child, and her parents. The entire 45 minutes I was sitting in my booth, eating my Panda Bowl, this woman complained about and at certain points was enraged by her husband. Beside being generally unpleasant to have to listen to while I was trying to enjoy my lunch break outside the chaos of makeup-land, there were several things that bothered me about this conversation. The first of which was that it was taking place in front of her child, the second was that her parents joined in on bashing the husband, and the last was that she kept insisting that it was all things she could not talk to her husband about.

Obviously I don’t know this family, perhaps her husband is a horrible man (although I can’t say that any of the things she was talking about seemed all that criminal to me), there are many things I couldn’t possibly understand about their relationship as only an audience to the one-sided rant. But it got me to thinking about the one thing about relationships I am most terrified of and value the most deeply: communication (trust… because I think the two go hand in hand).

I am single. I’ve been single… well for a while now, and the scenario I described above is one that puts a lockdown on my emotions even at the peak of the sappiest chick-flick. It’s extraordinary the power it has over my feelings, when it comes to thinking about relationships. Like any single girl I wonder about the future… I can even admit that at times I worry about the future. I see couples holding hands on the street, or watch cheesy romantic comedies and my heart twists a little, or I look into the faces of my nieces and nephews and ponder to myself and to God, “Will I ever be a mother?” And sometimes it’s an ache, and other times it’s really a question, will these things play out in my life, and if they don’t what does my future hold?

Certainly there are many things in life to be and do beside being a wife or mother or both, and while I do want these things, having had my trust broken the way I have, I can honestly say I don’t want them only for the sake of having them and I wont accept them under anything less than the right circumstances.  In my head that statement sounds so much more sever than it looks when I read it back to myself. =) I’ll explain…

I can’t tolerate the thought of a relationship where communication isn’t completely open… which sounds pretty generic. I think most women would say something like that, we are, after all, supposed to be the grand communicators of the sexes. However, in my recent plunge into chick-flicks (for research purposes only, I assure you ;>) I find that what most women mean by open communication is something like, ” I want you to want to talk to me about all the stuff I want to talk about, and I want you to tell me what I think I need to hear, but not any of the stuff you’re actually feeling because it might hurt my feelings.” Women seem to make a kind of game out of communication, and where there isn’t much, oh boy, do we have the imaginations to fill in the gaps on our own, let me tell ya!

That isn’t what I mean by wanting open communication at all… which isn’t to suggest that I am super-woman.  I am just as female as the next girl, I’m just as terrified of rejection, just as tempted by manipulation, and just as much in need of affirmation. But after nearly 30 years of life on this planet, and having my heart bruised, broken, smashed to pieces, I know that I need real communication in order to have a good relationship.  In the midst of my brokeness, I’ve been blessed to have some people in my life who love me in a way that allows them to tell me the truth, even when it hurts. And at times it really does hurt, but it’s also created the pillars help make me stable as a person. I know that their love doesn’t go away because I do something stupid, I know that nothing is hidden or secret with them, there’s nothing lurking in the dark shadows that I have to fear or worry about. I can really trust them. I can be angry with them and it not be the end of the world, they can be angry with me and it not be the end of the world.

I don’t want to be one of those girls whose attitude is, “Men have hurt me, men have broken me, men have let me down and disappointed me, men have abandon me and because you’re a man I’m going to hold you accountable for all of that hurt, brokeness, disapointedness and abandonment and withhold my trust and ultimately my love from you until you prove that you’re not just like the rest”. If I launch 29 years of fury at one man, then obviously that relationship is doomed, and even if he were strong enough to handle all of that and loved me enough to put up with it, the truth is, at some point I’d get hurt, or disappointed… you get the picture. That’s just what happens when humans interact.

So… let’s cut to the chase, after all of this explaining, shall we?  This is what I want, if a relationship, God willing, is in my future:

I want it to be OK to talk about the hard things… the things that people aren’t supposed to talk about, or at least that avoid really talking about them as far as I’ve seen.  At this point in my life I have feelings, opinions, expectations about God, about love, about responsibilities as an adult, responsibilities as a spouse, as a parent, about sex, about family, about where my laundry hamper lives . No, I don’t want to have a scheduled conversation that features a power point presentation with bullet points of my expectations. But I do want a friend whose mind and heart I know, with whom I can talk about the things I feel even when they aren’t particularly nice feelings, and whom I know will do the same with me. I want it to be OK to work things out, I want it to be OK get angry sometimes and I want someone who wants all of that as much as I do.

The end… because I’ve probably said too much. =D

Romantic comedy may be the death of me.

This evening I went to see Leap Year with my sister, Kristin. I’ve been waiting, since I saw the first preview, to see this movie.

I wouldn’t call myself a hopeless romantic. Not really. I can freely admit that I like romantic things, but I don’t heart Valentines Day just because it’s the day to celebrate love and I just know that someday when my prince charming finds me that finally Valentines Day and all other sappy things on this earth with hold true meaning for me.

No. Not me at all. I don’t want over the top… I like romance that’s believable, if that makes sense. Maybe it doesn’t. I mean, maybe the whole idea of romance to begin with is something over the top that isn’t likely to happen. At this point in my life, I’m really not sure anymore.  Anyway, there are specific types of romantic comedy that I really like, and I indulge my gooey side for those special stories, I let my heart flutter, and hope, and even some times ache just a little for what I don’t have.  Leap year turned out to be one of those.

We’ll start with the fact that the lead male role is played by Matthew Goode, a

Oh holy mother of good looking

favorite of mine, though barely anyone knows who he is. The leading female role is played by Amy Adams, whom, for reasons I don’t quite understand, I’ve been told should play me if ever a movie was made about my life. So right from the start… very attractive man (with an Irish accent)(Irish accents are an immediate high ranking from me), plus a girl who is me-ish in a redheaded sort of way. This is a good way to begin.

I wont bore those of you who don’t ever plan on seeing the film, or spoil it for those who do, with details about the plot, I’ll keep it simple. Long story short, girl who insists on routine and order and perfection, meets boy from another another country, unplanned, unorganized, and over-all pain in the ass, and fall in love. Love like they fit together like puzzle pieces. Love like he watches her and really sees her and smiles that smile. Love like she feels more like herself when he’s standing next to her. The thing that really gets me, the thing that makes this movie one that I’ll buy the second it’s released on dvd, the thing that  gives my heart that first gooey then achey feel, is this:

At the very end, girl who got everything she ever wanted exactly the way she planned realized that her plan wasn’t what she needed, so she flies thousands of miles to propose  a new plan, a plan not to make plans, a plan to just “give this thing a chance and see where it goes”  and in response her scruffy, blue-eyed, Irishman, shakes his head and walks away. And after she runs away, thinking she’s been rejected, he finds her, offers his mother’s ring and says, ” I don’t want to not make plans with you, I want to make plans with you.”

And that’s what it all comes down to. I want someone to want to make plans with me, but apparently that’s a pretty tall order around here. I can understand why things like romantic comedies seem like poison to some people, setting girls up with unrealistic expectations. But come on, these ideas have to come from somewhere!! Maybe I need to be keeping an eye out for Irish men. Maybe they have some sort of cultural wisdom and romantic sensibility that American men aren’t equipped with?  I just don’t get it.

This is why I love Tim Gunn

A cold front is blowing in and the wind is howling and making all kinds of creepy noises that are anything but sleep inducing. I’ve been laying in bed pouring over some magazines that I haven’t had the time for in the past couple of days, but can now indulge in thanks to my Christmas freedom.

I’m painfully aware right now of why I stopped reading things like Glamour and Marie Claire. I purchased the January issues of both (Natalie Portman was on the cover of Marie Claire, and Sarah Jessica Parker’s shoes called to me from the cover of Glamour) and was saddened by the lack of useful fashion and cosmetic information because too much space was given to articles such as “50 sex and Body questions”. Thanks but no thanks. I don’t need or want to read a magazine to learn new and exciting things about sex. My theory is that there are better ways to get to that information.

If money were no object and I could have any wedding coordinator I wanted, Tim Gunn would be my first choice.

From now on I’ll be sticking faithfully to my Vogue, InStyle, and Lucky, however I did glean this happy little Tim Gunn quote for a little Q&A piece he’s apparently doing for Marie Claire… read and enjoy…

The question… “How short can a skirt be and still qualify as work appropriate? Do opaque tights make a difference?”

Tim’s answer… “My inclination is to ask, “Well, what sort of work is it that you do?” But I’m being facetious. If you’re under 35 and have great legs, you can venture up to 2 inches above the top of your kneecap. If you’re more mature- regardless of your great legs- then the hem can range anywhere from the top to the bottom of your kneecap. Under no circumstances should your skirt be higher than that- unless you’re in an occupational costume. And under no circumstances should a skirt be longer than that, unless you’re going for the matronly look. As for opaque tights, I love them but they do not excuse a too-short skirt.”

What a girl wants: The Man Mashup

This morning I gave my niece two rings I’ve had for some years now, big engagement ring-esque costume jewelry.  You know the kind I’m talking about, (if you say you don’t you’re lying) every girl owns one at some point, or at least thinks about owning one… You see it in the store and think, “If that were a real diamond, that’s exactly what I’d want my engagement ring to look like.”, and then you try it on and imagine people noticing it and asking how he popped the question. And then you buy it, whether you’re in a relationship or not, just so you can hide it in your jewelry box so that you can take it out every once in a while and look at yourself in the mirror and think about how you’ll look engaged.  Hello, my name is Katie, and in spite of my better judgement, I’m a Romantic.  I had two of these rings… (because I couldn’t decide which cut I liked better, obviously), however I decided to give them up because I suddenly realized something a little scary, and no it’s not that I’m ridiculously lame for having fake engagement rings.

I have a clearer understanding of the type of ring I’d want on my finger to seal the deal, than I do of the type of man I’d want to give me that ring. Talk about misplaced priorities.

In general, it seems, girls often suffer from this shuffle of priorities and at some point have to face reality (or end up in a horrible mess).

So I started thinking about the kind of man I’d want in my life… and what I discovered is, I want a man mashup. That’s right, I want a big, strong, cowboy-vampire, with glasses, tattoos, and a bass guitar. Give me a little half-naked, sweaty, rugged, Drover from Australia, a little clean-cut, unwavering, eternal, Edward Cullen from Twilight and throw in a little geek, a little edgy, and hands that can cradle a guitar like it’s a newborn and I’ll be satisfied.  Is that really asking too much?

What would your man mashup look like?