A Couple Days in Chinatown

by Brittany on April 18, 2014

in Fashion, Travel

My book is due today, and writing it has been mentally consuming. I’m sorry I have been absent, but I wanted to take a second to update you on where I’ve been, because it’s been a pretty amazing month.

First up, a peek at what I did while I was in New York City last week…


I ate a human hand in Chinatown. I think it was a human hand. Definitely a knuckle. It was hard to tell, there was a lot of sauce. The moral of the story is, if you go for Dim Sum at 8am, don’t let the little old man you are seated with order for you. Especially if he doesn’t speak English. And extra-especially if you don’t know the Chinese word for human hand.


Andy met his idol and I got a taste of redemption. For Christmas I had surprised Andy with two front row tickets to one his favorite comedians, Jim Gaffigan. The show was March 24th at 7pm. On March 24th at 6:50pm, the Google event reminder on my phone beeped. I had completely forgotten, and while he tried to assure me it was okay, I could tell it wasn’t. So, with a little help from some friends in high places (Thanks Sarah!), I did one better. It took him 2 whole minutes to put it together in his head when he stepped out of the towncar. I love surprises.


I took my clothes off in a bookstore. I have a lot to say about this, but for right now, I will proudly stand there in my Dear Kates, and prove once again, sometimes fashion has curves and cellulite. And it’s beautiful.

Let’s talk more next week, loves. Until then, you can keep up with me on Instagram and Facebook. I have a feeling I’ll be doing a lot of celebrating this weekend!



Dear Andy While You Sleep

by Brittany on March 20, 2014

in Love, Marriage

Monday I rolled over in bed to come face to face with my little doll-faced cherub. I am keenly aware of the imaginary clock ticking above our heads, and our time of morning time girl snuggles are fleeting. I touched my finger to her warm little nose and she opened her heavy eyes, smiled softly, and then vomited directly into my open mouth, hair and pillow. I can never eat Sweet & Sour Chicken again. That’s a lie, but I can assure you it will be a while.

An hour later Andy called, he’d lost a co-worker unexpectedly and it jarred him. I don’t handle death or emotions well, I become physically uncomfortable and I never know what to do with my hands. Plus, when Andy’s normally chill and even-keeled demeanor changes, it freaks me out, only one of us can be unstable in this relationship and I am used to that person being me. My immediate response was to begin making cakes, because I feel like cakes are better than crying.

Wednesday and three thrown away puke pillows later, Ohio’s latest snow storm sent a giant tree through our roof and into our garage.

We are coming off quite a shit fest, y’all. And Andy, he’s handled it like a champ. And by that, I mean he’s mostly taken all my phone calls at work, and talked me through mature and complicated things like obtaining contractor quotes and not punching insurance adjusters.

And for that, there are so many things I want to tell him, it’s just that every time I try, I get all weepy and choked up like I’m watching the wedding scene in The Muppets Take Manhattan.

So I’ve decided to wait until he’s asleep.

dad and gi


You are a really great dad. I know I got you a card saying this exact thing last Father’s Day, but it bears repeating, because before Jude came out, I did not have high hopes for us as parents. But, we rocked it out, and I’ll never admit this to your face, but you are so totally a better parent than me. You are more patient, and more logical, and you grow way better beards. I know it kills you every morning you have to walk out that door and I get to stay, but please know that I work all hours of the day just so that one day, you don’t have to leave anymore.

I broke our microwave. Only the middle line of number buttons work now, so you can only microwave food for times consisting of 2, 5, 8, and 0. Or use any of the specialty buttons. For example, if you want to reheat your Indian take-out, hit the Popcorn button once. If you want to heat up soup, hit the Popcorn button once, and then when it feels like it’s been in there roughly half the time, open the door and take it out. If you leave it in for a full Popcorn, you’ll burn your tongue and food will be ruined for you for at least a week. If you want to heat up a Hot Pocket, don’t, because you’ll have diarrhea all night and I’ll never heard the end of it. However, I recently read an article about how microwaves are killing us, so maybe I’ve done us all a favor. Honestly, you’re lucky to have me.

Sometimes I hate you for making me feel so beautiful. I can only stand here today and love me because you propped me up for 15 years until I was strong enough to do it myself, and it secretly hate that I’ll never be able to do anything as epic for you. I’ve been robbed of any hopes to win the award for best spouse, and all I can do in return is give you beautiful children and trim your eyebrows, and it never feels enough. Here’s this coupon I made you for free blow jobs.

Also, thank you for being patient with me as I’ve learned how to be an adult. It’s taken me longer than you, and you never make me feel bad about that.

Lastly, I wrote you this poem: You do something to me that I can’t explain. Hold me closer and I feel no pain. Every beat of my heart we got something going on. Tender love is blind, it requires a dedication. All this love we feel, needs no conversation. We can ride it together, ah-ha. Making love with each other, ah-ha. Islands in the stream, that is what we are. No one in between, how can we be wrong. Sail away with me, to another world. And we rely on each other, ah-ha. From one lover to another, ah-ha… okay I didn’t actually write that. It’s Islands In The Stream by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, but it felt applicable here.


Fat Girls in Bikinis… We’re Just Like You!

March 7, 2014

We love the sun. We love the water. We sometimes forget to shave that one strip on the back of our legs. And we worry like hell about what the other women at the beach think of us, because the honest to God truth is, forget the men, we judge each other the hardest.  There […]

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Riding In Cars With Kids

February 28, 2014

I’ve been having car issues. Mechanically, my SUV was cherry. Logistically I wanted to light it on fire and push it into the pond. The problem is that I have three children in car seats on a single bench seat. So what, you ask? Oh, you’ve never put a condom on a dude then tried to […]

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The Beauty of Entitlement

February 25, 2014

Yesterday was not a pretty day. I was not feeling it. I was not feeling it at all. I was getting ready for an event and none of my clothes were agreeing with me. Mountains of them all over the closet in protest. Big fucking piles of nope. And since I’ve been riding high on […]

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Pink Eyes Are The Prettiest Eyes

February 21, 2014

Someone just come over and put this damn Lunette menstrual cup inside me correctly. I don’t have the will to figure it out, internet, I just don’t. I tried youtube’ing it, but almost no one has a legitimate menstrual cup insertion video. They all puss out using champagne glasses or diagrams of the inside of […]

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Happy Boobs

February 5, 2014

Two days ago we went to the Sing-Along version of Frozen, because we still have money left in our retirement account and haven’t yet fulfilled our apparent moral obligation to continuously bolster the box office success of this cartoon. I had just finished the reprise of For The First Time in Forever, I as Elsa […]

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Snowed In With Nothing But Coconut Love

January 29, 2014

We’ve basically been stuck in our house since January 1st, and aside from the uncontrollable sobbing and eye twitching, it’s been amazing. I’m like Sissy Spacek in Blast From The Past. There’s been constant rainbow looming, online shopping, minor home renovations, and it’s also cleared the way for  a couple “me” projects. Bought a new […]

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Elementary School. It’s not all limos and Happy Meals.

January 22, 2014

Last week Gigi’s midterm report came home informing me she recognized no letters or letter sounds, and she was unable to write her name. Which is weird because she definitely knew all those things going into her second year of preschool. A preschool that apparently bases it’s curriculum on The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. […]

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The Muse Project

January 14, 2014

When you are plus size and have self esteem issues, it’s not uncommon to hate January 1st. Once I eventually got past the dread of imminent resolution failure and looming hyper-inadequacy, I tabled New Years as nothing more than the passing of a calendar year. No more resolutions. No more unreachable standards. No more change. […]

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