I am going to make a confession.

I am hating the job that I have.

I could on from the time I got this job in April to now but to save you the pages I would be writing, trust me when I say you would hate it too.

While I have several friends who just listen and laugh at the crud that I find is completely unnecessary for me to have to deal with, I have other friends who have told me, point blank, to quit.

And while quitting sounds spectacular, I wasn't born a quitter. My parents didn't raise me to get a job that once the stress levels meet as such that I'm considering jumping off a Dallas skyscraper, to just quit.

I understand now the sense of how it feels to be kicked when you're down, and once you think you've gained bearings finally someone throws a wrench in it.
I have learned that working with friends will have you seeing some color of theirs that you didn't think they could have. And having to look past it.
I have found that you'll never, ever, ever reach everyone's level of perfection...and that there'll always be that ONE person that expects you to rope them the moon while patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time.

And now we're at today. Today was just one of those days. One of those days where I didn't wanna get up and attend my early morning meetings and then my regular meetings. As the day progressed, more trivial things happened that alone, are nothing, but when you pack them together, on top of everything else that is going on right now in my job, with the new year and the big changes that'll make, I just wished that someone else could deal with all this and then I could resume in a few weeks.

Maybe I'm an avoider. That must be it. That I wanna run away from crud that is ruining the flow that I'm trying to keep.

And yet, in my journal, I found myself writing this:

And yet, throughout all this, I feel like I am to stick it out and not quit. And I'm looking up at the skies like, "Are you for real? What am I to learn from all this?" And then I hear God tell me I'll know soon enough, but for now I feel like a puppet on strings! And I'm mad because I also hear God saying that I don't have it that bad and to just trudge through it because when I complain to him I feel like he's understanding but is telling me to cowboy up and that it'll be fine soon enough.


Like, I'm seriously hearing him tell me the same thing I tell my kids when they come to me with silly issues like not wanting to make their bed because they can't do it right. I'll just say, "But you can do it, so do it! The more you do it the better you'll become so get started" and then I'll shoo them into their room before they could complain any more.

God is aware of me, He hasn't left my side. So why am I acting like He has? And why am I acting like he's given me a job that I can't handle?

I have realized that through the hard times comes the greatest lessons. Just right now, in the thick of it, I can't see them. But as the great saying goes: Life is understood backwards, but must be lived forwards.

But I will see soon enough these lessons I am to learn. In the mean time, I will "cowboy up".
Call it being stubborn, or stupid, but I don't like going and getting my hair cut professionally.

There's some language barrier, I'm certain of it, when I go to get my hair cut and it doesn't matter if I'm paying $13 at Supercuts, or $40 to a woman named Teri who works at the mall and has a reputation of knowing and executing the exact cut you ask for. I will always hear, "Oh, you can't have long hair with short layers" or "Whaaaat? I don't know what you mean. So you want your hair short, right? No, long?"

Side note: Am I the only one who cries at the thought of spending $40 on your hair?

The past two times I've had someone else cut my hair, I ended up wearing it for a day to see if I'll get used to it, only to end up cutting it myself until it finally looks how I want. So why in heavens name am I paying someone?

I want long hair, with short layers. I need the short layers as Momma is getting old and showing her age and dang it, hair that is lying flat against my head because it's too heavy to lift with product (read: I refuse to tease my hair) will add all the wrong drama to my face. But I want length too. I can't do short hair. Never have been able to. Every time I cut my hair short I looked and felt ugly, to which I'd grow it out, see a friend with an incredibly adorable bob, cut my hair again, hate it, grow it out again, watch The Real World on MTV, copy a main character's haircut (truth), hate my life, wear a hat for six months and vow to never, ever again have my hair that short, even at the ripe age of 80 with great, great grandkids yanking on it.

So I've been cutting my hair. And I've been very careful in how I cut it.

Until the other day.
That darn other day.
Time machine, anyone?




Stop on by and see more of my New Year's Resolution ideas!

www.youtube.com/thetypewoman

But for now, I'll put you up to speed!








Eating healthy!

You can do it!




I have challenged myself for the month of December to make 25 videos, talking about 25 different New Year's Resolution ideas. Here I'll give tips and tricks on how to make and fulfill these resolutions. Follow me, subscribe, like, and comment!

www.youtube.com/thetypewoman





New sweaters! Whatever shall I do? Try them on for you!!

Whaddya think? Are these a yay or a nay?


Forgiveness is never easy.

And yet I wonder if that's how it's supposed to be. For the learning during the forgiveness process holds a value we can never achieve any where else.

Several years ago a friend of mine was going through a tough time. From an outside perspective, I would believe that he brought  these "tough times" upon himself. But since I have not walked the road he did, I can not judge what caused this time in his life.

Sadly, I understood one thing he was going through. He was best friends with a group of guys and seemingly out of nowhere all his friends stop contacting him, returning his calls, or even trying to salvage their friendship. From my imperfect perspective I saw that the choices he's made in his life caused his friends to make this decision.

But since I once had a group of friends that push me away, and treated me like a stranger due to a severe depression that encompassed my life so much so that I could barely survive each day EXISTING, let alone keeping up with friends and their lives, I completely understood where this friend was coming from.

I did all that I could to let him know that I cared about him, that I found value in him and that I didn't limit my belief in him due to the life he was living. And most importantly, I wanted him to know he could rely on me.

And then one day it all came crashing down. He took advantage of my friendship and while at my house, stole from me to feed this addiction of his. Two, 30 count bottles of expired Hydrocodone, GONE. I figured he was better than that, that he had the decency to respect our friendship, and my belongings. He probably assumed that since they were expired I wouldn't notice them missing. But just a week prior, I cleaned out my medicine box but kept those, as at the time I had no medical insurance and while I hate that kind of medicine and instead will take Ibuprofen, I can't predict my future and if I'll ever need them.

While he never said anything and I was so hurt I cut him off, and after rehab we spoke no more to each other, I still wanted him to ask for forgiveness. I wanted it so bad. I wanted to know he was dearly sorry for what he had done. I wanted to know that he knew this ridiculous action of his destroyed my trust in him and shattered our friendship. An apology could have salvaged that. And I didn't want to go to him to get it. I wanted him to want to apologize.

But instead he went on with life like it didn't. even. matter.

This hurt me so much that it encompassed my life and festered something nasty within me. I couldn't focus without my anger towards him dancing in the background of my mind, slowing coming forward until I couldn't think of anything else. My happiness diminished because I was so caught up in how much he betrayed me. I wished him terrible things. I wished karma would hit him so hard and for the whole world to see. What sweet revenge I would feel to watch him go down, getting a taste of what I felt he deserved.

I realized one day, talking to my friend, that I needed to forgive him. My life wasn't getting any better, holding onto feelings that aren't hurting him, but wreaking havoc on my spirit.

And I did.

Or so I thought I did.

I would see him in town and those feelings resurfaced. I would spend the rest of the day rehashing those old feelings, wishing him hell to pay. The feelings stronger than before.

Remembering the error of my ways, I would forgive him again.

And then I would see him at church, CHURCH, and instead of me being Christlike and with a Christlike attitude, I instead looked at him as the sinner whose actions should give him no reason to show up and act like he was perfect, his prayers eloquent enough to bring one to tears and a knowledge of their own sins, but he went on like he did nothing to me. And then I would look at the congregation and wonder, "Who else has he done this with? And they not know?"

Each time this cycle continued, when those angry feelings came back, they came back tenfold.

Finally one day, while talking to this same friend she said, "Ladee, I don't think you've forgiven him."

And while I thought her words were out of line, I left from her house that day realizing she was right. Forgiveness means that I am no longer tied down to the negative feelings. It means I can move forward in my life with no more reminders of what he did, because it no longer controls me.

I was once told that the only things/beliefs that can control you are the things/beliefs that you allow to control you.

One day I was in my dining room, preparing a lesson I had to give the next day when I saw the reflection of a car pass in front of my house. I felt attacked with the same energy I felt when I would see my friend. I found myself uttering, "I am going to guess that is him". And within an instant I was running into my kitchen to see his work vehicle drive away.

I understood at that moment that it didn't matter how many times I begged God to help me forgive him, as I was forgiving him, it was a  dark energy this man carried within him that projected on to me that clung to me, that made me the same person he is: full of rage and hatred.

I processed this for a day or two. I was putting on my makeup one morning, with this all still on my mind. He had to have known that his anger with me, I being one of the many that cut ties to him, affected me. I already knew his bitterness towards those that let him go. So he had to have felt the same towards me.

I had an idea. A thought clear as day came into my mind and with half a face of makeup on, I prayed.

"Dear Lord, please shield me from the negative energy that attacks me when we see each other. I pray it'll bounce off me and be given back to him, so he'll know he can't hurt me anymore."

I finished my makeup, went about my day and then saw him again, in town. I braced myself for the all-familiar.....

Nothing.

I. felt. NOTHING.

Never has "nothing" felt so good. I sat in my car and let "nothing" settle within me. It was as sweet as bliss.

I saw him again later that day. Nothing.

And again the next day. Nothing.

It's been years and I still feel NOTHING.

I was liberated. Cut from the garbage that controlled me. I can finally say now that I forgive the man. That while what he did was a slap in my face, I feel no more ill feelings. I feel nothing towards him. He's an acquaintance now and while I have no idea if he's comfortable with that or comfortable during the times he sees me, I am.

I have made my peace.

I don't hate him anymore.

I still see his value.

And maybe, if the day ever comes when he does ask for forgiveness, I can say, "Don't worry about it, I forgave you long ago."

But I won't hold my breath.
A week or so ago I decided to change up my twitter banner, to which I used that same banner to change my youtube and facebook cover photo.

As I was going through these selfies, mostly put up on Instagram, I reminisced the reason as to why I took these pictures and why I posted them on Instagram. One in particular I posted because I was having a terrible day and felt faking my happiness would help my attitude to change. Another pic I took and used as a profile picture because I grew tired of the one I had. Another I took as part of an Instagram contest, believing I would win but out of the mere four people that entered, I didn't.

Each picture held a different emotion and each picture reminded me of where I have come, even though these pictures were done recently, I have found that I'm a day better than I was from yesterday.

And while I put together my banner/cover photo, I became inspired. The next day I wrote up the 5 tips on how to "Check yo' selfie before you wreck yo' selfie" and filmed it that afternoon.

Here's what I share. What are your thoughts? Would you agree? Would you add to what I've written?




A friend of mine posted a question on facebook, talking about how she had three different important meetings to attend but didn't necessarily have the means to dress fancy for each of them.

I gave her some helpful tips on keeping her shirt and skirt the same but changing up her hair and accessories! This inspired me to make my own video, showing some of my secrets to getting that snazzy outfit using the clothing and accessories you already have.

(You could easily swap out the jeans for a skirt!)




Four simple words that slashed my self worth nearly 15 years ago, lifted my spirits the other evening.

I look back at how badly I just wanted to be something to someone. How badly I wanted to be great in everyone's eyes. I wanted to be a part of a group, love it, and have everyone love me.

But I didn't have that. I was an awkward girl, socially awkward at best. I was introverted and shy and feared saying anything because I feared that the attention that I get could very well be negative. And I didn't want negative attention, I didn't want someone to call me out in a crowd and embarrass me with questions or demands or something that would put me on the spot and leave me with no room to give the right response.

I feared this so much, I held myself back. I wanted to be a natural at anything. I wanted to be naturally confident. I wanted to be a natural beauty. All those things, or even one of those things, in my mind, would definitely have me fitting in somewhere and being known to those around me as a someone.

This mental fight to be something great while fearing what "great" may be had me reverting to being a wall flower, tucked into the background while I watched everyone else live up their time to shine with their friends. I admired how well each person fit into the different groups while I pleaded to be a part of something.

My group of friends weren't part of a select group. We were just there. And even at that, my friends were more popular than me. More people from other groups talked with them, laughed with them, hugged them, supported them than any did me. I assumed that was because I just didn't have what my friends had. Which, looking back, I didn't.

And while that's neither here nor there, through the school of hard knocks I have found that I am best as my own person, a person who loves all the different groups and can appreciate them all. I'm that person who doesn't like to be tied down to a tribe when there's so many incredible people in other tribes that I am just dying to know.

I went to bed after saying those four words, seeing how much I have changed, how the words I used to say hurt me more than I understood. The words came full circle, back to a Ladee who embraced the words with love and appreciation, than how they were expressed in the past: a truth that was falsely interpreted as I being the problem.

I had to make a video on it, of course. And while those days were tough, I can look back on them and laugh. How I wish the young Ladee could see that those harmful, hateful words are now words that I am happy to express.

Ladee, you don't fit in. You'll never fit in.

And girl, that's the best thing for you. 




The days of Myspace seem forever ago, don't they?


Myspace was started in 2003 and I can't recall which year I created an account but I believe by the time I did, I already had a child or two and looking back on those days with little children, I barely remember much of it, let alone how active I was on something as "strange" and "new" as a social media website, as exciting as it was.

But one thing I do remember are the questionnaires. And how I loved to answer them.

I was that one that would find the longest questionnaires possible as I assumed everyone was chomping at the bit to read my answers; to know that much more about me than I was already willing to spill--if they would just ask!

Since I'm one who loves to ask people questions, I just assumed that people would be tickled pink to know that I've saved them the hassle of asking me these minute questions that they must have bottled up within them, awaiting the moment for when the time was right to ask, because surely, everyone wants to know me in full detail. I envisioned all my top friends intently staring at their computer screen, drinking in every last answer I wrote, ignoring their phone, tuning out the TV, in full suspense as to how I would answer each question...like an obsessed Britney fan would be during one of her interviews.

I had a bitter dose of reality when my top friends, when asked, would say they skimmed my questionnaires, or they never got around to reading it. How dare they take our friendship so lightly that they didn't care to know what my favorite color of socks are? That I prefer whole wheat to white! That I like being blond better than brunette! They should know that I'm in love with Ricky Martin and Shakira and that I don't want some country singer's CD, whom I never mentioned on any of my questionnaires, for my birthday! Gosh, who are these friends of mine?!

One day I was watching a favorite youtuber of mine do a 25 questioned tag and it took her nearly ten minutes to answer it. I then chuckled to myself, wondering how long it would take had we Myspacers took the time to answer the 100 questioned questionnaires via video.

And that's when I thought it would be fun to look up these old questionnaires and answer a shorter one for you.

Shakira is still a big part of my life. Some things never change.


...you never seem to get a complete thought through, during the 16 minutes of video filmed.

I had a story to tell. It had meaning, it was awesome. I was proud of what I was to share.

And while I whittled this down to under two minutes, I had interruption after interruption that hindered it from being the spectacular video that I had dreamed up in this cranium. I was applying my mascara this morning, rehearsed what I was going to say, looked at my freshly made face and smiled, "Oh yeah, this video is going to kick-booty. This girl is gonna inspire."

Well, make or fail, I'm gonna post it anyway!

Meet: My mailman.
Do you think he likes me? I think he may find me charming.

Because charming is someone talking animatedly to their rear view mirror these days. Fo' real.





I worried it was. I worried that the person I was in high school would be the same person I was to be the rest of my life. I hated thinking I just had to accept that and move on.

But I was happy when I understood that I didn't have to be like that anymore. And that I could be whateva the heck this woman wanted to be.

Watch as I relive some old memories and post a few old pics.


After trying to do a video in two different locations in my neighborhood, I gave up and decided to park in my alley. I had this great video idea in mind but whenever people are walking outside and see that I'm in my car, my thought process gets interrupted, paranoia sets in as I wonder if they too are paranoid a stranger is hangin' out by their house, and then I have more editing to do to remove it all!

While I know, and truly understand, that this girl needs to do her videos INSIDE and has been begging Santa for a while now to bring her a Canon T3i (and almost was fooled by a Craigslister into buying a T3), I assumed, while pulling up into my driveway, via my alley, that NO ONE would bother me there.

And, well, watch and see what happens. ;)


I am a cheater.

Sometimes I want it all now, with the least amount of work.

And that definitely includes my morning routine.

How I love to sleep. I have such a love affair with sleep that Mr Hunter used to get frustrated with me, then concerned, and now the poor man has just plum given. up.

But that doesn't keep me from those early morning meetings that I have to attend...*sigh*.

So what do I do?

Well, let me tell ya!


I completely forgot that today was the full moon.

I remembered that it was my friend's birthday!

I remembered that I have a dinner date tonight!

But come around 5:45 this evening, while making dinner, I realized that since the later afternoon, while folding laundry, I have been feeling overwhelmed and anxious, suddenly feeling like I am carrying too much and have no control over what is going on in my day. I feel buried under the knowledge of all the things I have to do within the next two weeks and feel so little and inadequate to be able to get it done. I begin critiquing how I acted today towards others, questioning how great of a mother I am, blaming myself for not being a better homemaker. I'm looking around and seeing so much housework that needs to be done and all of it, my fault, and believing only I am the one who is to tackle it.

As I go to check the dinner that's cooking in the oven I get a thought that says, "Remember Ladee, it's the full moon." To which I hear myself sigh with relief and under my breath I mutter, "OH YEAH! Wasn't that supposed to happen this evening?"

I have the moon schedule on my calendar. I go to check and sure enough, right around the time I started feeling this overwhelming anxiety, was when it was officially the full moon (4:23pm).

I thought maybe I had been cured of this full moon garbage. The last two months I wasn't phased by it, I remember thinking, "Maybe I've outgrown all this. Maybe that was just a season in my life that is now over." Pffffft, what wishful thinking.

Regardless, one thing is for certain, this only lasts a day and tomorrow, I will be up and feeling like my old self.
While I understand that wearing white, grey, or black isn't right for me (and will wear it anyway), I don't have the eye to know exactly which shade works for me. There's a few of those iffy shirts, mostly in PINK that will have me confuzzled to the brink of pulling my hair out.

One day I had my friend over, who loves the 12 Seasons, brought along her color cards to show them off to me. I grab out two of my "iffy" shirts, which happen to be dress shirts, and said, "Are any of these close to my colors?" My friend understand when I say that that I'm also asking, "Is this Type 3?"

She takes one look at them and says, "No," before saying the exact season/Type this does fit in.

And then it made sense that that would be why, when I did wear those shirts, that I would have to beat myself up to find the right skirt and accessories to match.

I usually know when a color works for me because I can get it to match with any other color that I also know works best for me. But sometimes I get hung up on the iffy's and will drive myself crazy to make it work, or will give up and take it out of my outfit.

Today I'm wearing a sweater that at the beginning of Spring, I was wearing it all the time. I loved how it looked on me then...but now? Ehhhhh.

By the way, the coloring is so off in this video. My sweater is actually a rich salmon color. GO FIGURE!!
(That would explain too why most of the shirts I do my videos in that aren't white, grey, or black look like the wrong color!)



You don't have to change your outfit just to look nice! Here's some simple steps to turn the most basic outfit into a fancy one.



Jane is incredible and this is why I KNOW everyone should know her. Go meet her!


Am I still dressing my "truth"? Watch and see!

I've had a smart phone for about 5 years. I may have not been the first to jump the smartphone bandwagon, but I eventually got on and now I don't think I could ever go back to my Motorola RAZR, as much as I thought that was the bomb-diggity when I had it.

One thing I thought I would adjust to would be the random beeps and bings that my phone made. At first I liked all the sounds my phone made. It meant that I was cool. Or something. Like, for the first time ever, I actually feel popular. #LastingHighSchoolIssues #EvenAsAGrownUp

And then I realized that the more we have smartphones and the more that we rely upon them, the more sounds these phones make with less time in between.

And the more I live in a world of smartphones, the more I can't stand them!

I used to find it fun to have life interrupted by this world I held in my hand....now all I wanna do is stuff it under my mattress and forget about it!

Regardless, ^that^ is all besides the point of why I did this video. I get paranoid when I text people sometimes. Sometimes I don't know how to text and sometimes I worry that if I don't use emoticons, people will misread me. Such a mental tug-of-war that I go through. #FirstWorldProblems

#WhyAmIHashtagging?

But there's one thing about texting that really makes me paranoid.

Listen as I explain what that is!


...and more than likely FAILING.

But you get the drill. ;)

I seriously love my hair, makeup, and tats. Like, probably more than a Type 3 woman should. I am considering buying MORE hair chalk as I about used a third of it today. Hair chalk is pretty darn rad.

 
I don't tell very many people that I do the HCG diet.

Because most peeps have something negative to say about it and frankly, I don't want to hear it. I also hate the way people act when they hear that I'm on a diet and especially, on that diet.

But whatevs, it ain't any of their business and therefore it all ties back to me just not telling them. It's not worth my breath, it's not worth them knowing, and it's not worth my hearing of their opinion when all they know is what some famous doctor on Opera thinks about it (who also flip-flopped on his opinion of the diet, just saying, before I change the subject).

My sister has been struggling for years with her weight. She has a condition that her doctor told her that women with this condition literally have a harder time losing weight than women who don't have this condition.
She went to the doctor desperate and asked, "Is there some way, is there some miracle pill, that could help me lose this weight?"
He told her, "Well, there's the HCG Diet."
(Note: you lose a pound a day and if you're especially heavy, you lose more.)

People call this diet extreme and I beg to differ. I don't see how this is any more extreme than getting gastric bypass and yet, that seems more socially acceptable than ingesting a hormone and going on a low-calorie diet.

People who get gastric bypass have to stay within a strict, 400 calorie liquid puree diet for up to nine months. If they cheat, they're hurting, literally.

On this diet if you cheat, you'll just not have lost the weight you would've had you not.
Big whoop.
You can try again!

But people are entitled to their own opinions and I will embrace the opinion of those who have tried this diet, whether they were successful, or whether it didn't work for them.

And if you're interested in this diet, I fully support you in giving it a go as long as you read up on it and talk to your doctor about it as all bodies are different and all diets give different results.

Watch as I talk about my weightloss journey, the reason why friends were keeping me fat, and how HCG and it's strict diet, gave me all the freedom in the world.


How I wish I had an amazing camera and that my house was full of windows to allow in the best natural light so I can show off the true colors of my wardrobe!

Since May, and since this post, I've been doing (read: wearing) my own thing.


It's liberation, if you ask me. I don't feel so tied down to a color scheme if I'm feeling like wearing something that a system says I'll look terrible in. And I have friends who will see me in black and saying in a joking, yet serious tone, "Ohhhhh Ladee! You know I cringe with that color on you!"

I've embrace the knowledge that everyone has their own energy and the need to have the energy of the colors you're wearing match your energy. And I do believe that we women, for the most part, have our own "beauty sixth sense". We know what looks good for us. I was looking at some of DYT's "Before and After"'s and noticed that a lot of these women WERE in fact wearing their Type's colors, but just didn't know how to style themselves correctly.

But sometimes our energy is simmered due to stress/anxiety/depression and other times our energies are burning bright due to excitement/happiness/love.
And I know that if I'm wearing what looks good on me, I'll feel leaps and bounds better than if I didn't while feeling down. But sometimes my mood calls for a muted-colored shirt because my anxiety levels are high and I don't want the visual noise some Type 3 colors give me (and I still hate brown. I know that's a calm color, but I don't like it so I almost never wear it).

I am so glad I don't have the color cards and now understand the reason as to why I wasn't to purchase any of DYT's programs. As much as I like the Type 3 colors and as much as it's a great example of colors to show you, to me though, it doesn't make me as happy looking at it like I hoped it would. Maybe it's the way the colors are lined up on the card (OCD anyone?), maybe it's because I feel like every color has been overlayed with brown, via photoshop, but something just doesn't enamor me like I thought it would upon first seeing it.

But still, of all the Type color cards, I love those colors the best. Duh.

I'm sticking with autumn colors. I still love those rich berry colors, burnt oranges, reds, and yellows.

But I also like white.
And I like black.

Some days I think I look hideous in black and others, I think I look pretty darn good! Especially if I load my accessories as Type 3 accessories.
If Type 3 colors are pure hues mixed with black then shouldn't the colors look good WITH black? That's something I've always wondered. I have a girlfriend that is a Type 3/1 and one Sunday she came to church in a black dress and looked incredible. I remember thinking, "WAIT, she's not supposed to look good in the black and yet, I can't stop admiring her outfit!" She donned a deep blue jean jacket with chunky, Type 3 accessories that, to me, put her whole look together and turned BLACK into a Type 3 color.

I got a comment the other day, stating that people are getting kicked off of DYT groups because they're posting how they wear black pants or shoes but they aren't a Type 4.

HOLY.
COW.
Please tell me I read that wrong.

I wear black gym clothes. I like them.
I have black pants. I like them too.
I have black socks and black shoes. Keeping those!
I have black shirts. I have no desire to throw them out. Although I have a pile waiting to be bleached.
I have black lingerie. And Mr Hunter does NOT care whether they're the right color for me.

But I'm still a happy, proud, Type 3, secondary Type 2 woman who admires the DYT system.

So anyways, to reiterate: My style today is pretty much the same as before but I have decided to do more "mood styling". More often than not, I'll go to put on a white, grey, or black shirt, take one look at myself in the mirror and go, "YUCK!" and will rip it off before finding another. But I've got to tell ya, last week I wore a jersey-colored grey shirt and loved it so much I wore it the next day.

I still love my chunky accessories, big (and warmer colored) hair, winged eye-liner but have changed my makeup in the sense that I'm trying to have more contrast, especially with eyeshadow colors. I love dramatic outfits. I love layers upon layers and I just LOVE that sexy can be shown through complete modesty.

I love pushing the envelope as to how far I can go while still looking appealing. It's fun! I think everyone should give it a try!

And how I WISH I had a better camera so I can show you all I wear, all the time, so you can see just how simple it is to beef up a wardrobe to look appealing. All you really need is the right fit and the right colors (or the right MOOD COLORS)!
I've asked Santa for a Canon T3i. Maybe he'll deliver. :D
I love to dress up.
As much as I love to dress down.

I used to think that being a certain Type meant that you had to constantly dress that way.
Well, sometimes I don't wanna dress the Type but will instead dress the MOOD.

And today my mood called for the basic red shirt and $6 thrift store jeans.

No added accessories than the absolute necessary. No earrings, no necklace. 
Just a day to be simple.



And a day for a little of this:


When given with all the love of my little boy's heart, any weed becomes the most beautiful flower.


Several times I have heard people say, "If she has a problem with me, why is she telling everyone else when if she would just tell me we could settle it like adults!"

Or:

"So Friend lied and said she was sick today and skipped out on our lunch when in reality I found out she was doing something else. She should've just told me she didn't want to go. I would've understood."

Or (LOL, I'm noticing I'm using "she" in these examples. I'm just going off what I've been hearing, folks, don't go reading into this like I'm blaming anyone.):

"She is just avoiding me and not answering my calls or texts. If she doesn't want to talk to me she should just say so."

I can count maybe two people who have said those things and I have believed them. These two women are women who don't beat around the bush, they don't have time for drama, they are very cut-and-dry as well as take-me-as-I-am women whom I admire and pray every day to be just like.
I should pray harder for that. ;)

But the rest of the people I've heard say that I honestly wonder just how well they would handle someone saying this to them:

"Friend, the way you treated my friend was garbage. I can't believe you could do such a thing. Because of that, I think less of you and will be wary of you from here on out."

Or:

"Friend, I don't want to hang out today, even though we made plans. I would rather spend my time alone, shopping for fabrics. I'm sure you understand, right?"

Or:

"Friend, I'm not up to being chatty with you. I know Other Friend and I are super close and I answer her texts but not yours. It's just that she and I are besties and I don't feel that closeness with you."

Honestly, I can not see how these truths would keep any peace between people. So we create half-truths, bold face lies, or avoidance to protect both parties.

Case in point:
**I hate having to justify myself before telling everyone that I did something I feel to be black-hearted, but I would have it no other way and to be completely frank, I would like to think I'm getting better as a person, although the "better" I get, the less patience I have with drama....go figure. I guess I'll always be a work in progress.

Justification: Since April I've been assigned as President over the children's organization at church. I won't go into all I do. All I can say is that I came into this position feeling like I stepped into a world of foreign languages and here I had to not only know it all, but to lead it all with a great big smile on my face. Along with this position is my having to force myself to be more social than I like. I know that sounds silly as I'm a Type 3 and being social comes naturally to me. But being forced to be social puts me on a faster burnout than burning out on my own.

Needless to say, I have put my phone on silent for hours DAILY, refused to answer calls, ignored texts, overlooked emails, and avoided fellow churchgoers like Ebola when I see them outside of the church building. And when I do have meetings, I'm feeling like I'm halfway Ladee as my energy is low and my lights dim. My smile is fake, my laughter is forced, I ignore the people around me, I'm just a big, faker.

And. I. hate. it. It's not who I am. But when you're running on "E", you're never your true self.

I know I need to find a happy balance between recharging and giving this position 100% but until then, I'm trudging through. No worries. It's all part of the refiner's fire. I'm not complaining, just stating fact. I accepted this position and knew this would be my future for a while.

Well, I have a friend who loves to chat. And has wanted to chat nonstop for several days.
Lately, I have been avoiding her texts but keep feeling that "pull" like my friend is waiting on the other end (y'all know what I'm talking about?). It's a pull that drives me insane until I respond. But responding is a double-edged sword because if I respond, well, you know what happens next.

She texts again within minutes. With animation! With emoticons! She texts questions. She wants lengthy answers to match her lengthy comments.

And I continue this cycle of avoidance/attention, to where it is beginning to take over my priorities.

This friend is one of those friends who has told me the lines I wrote above. She likes honesty. Or so she says. She also knows I'm feeling a tad buried and finding my bearings. But she also likes my time too, which I love to give, but right here, right now, I just can't give that. And if I want to keep this friendship with her, I have to be honest. Call it a boundary, but I need space. Just for a little while.

I finally wrote this evening with, "I'm sorry I haven't been feeling up to texting. I'm feeling overwhelmed and therefore, antisocial. I promise, it is not you."

I could swear I felt storm clouds directed at me and a sea of unhappy angels informing me I was a bad friend.

My chatty friend responds with four, simple words: "It's fine, I understand."

The one problem with texting is that you can't see or hear the person who is talking. And without the blasted use of emoticons, we are all left to guess.
But I know I get vibes from texts. And this text came to me with a heaviness (on top of the storm clouds). The words appeared to me with depth, as though they were sunken into my screen, a deep grey, and holding a fresh coat of pain.

I wrote back and apologized, something I shouldn't have done, as I'm backtracking (thanks, The Crazy) but now I'm feeling bad. I ask if she's ok. Again, something I shouldn't've done but...

And she doesn't respond. I know she read the text. She carries her phone with her as often as she carries her left foot.

A similar incident with her a month or so ago, when I tried to put some space between us for my sake, had her texting me with this:
"I didn't know I was overwhelming you. I will give you the space that you need. I won't text you until you text me first."
My instinctual nature has me rolling my eyes while The Crazy comes barreling in, feeling upset for noticing Friend twisting my words in such a way that I'm left to feel blame for her feelings.

But in the mean time I have to sit and wonder why in the world I am feeling guilted for being honest. The Type 3 in me honestly does not care as I am following what my body needs. I need time to be away. I need time to recharge.

But the concerned Type 2 in me keeps rearing her head and making me wonder if I've killed the friendship this time, because The Crazy makes brash assumptions like a boss.

**I do have to say that I contradict myself. I have times when I'm feeling terribly antisocial and therefore will go on facebook and will chat with my wonderful friends in the personality groups I follow. Somehow that heals me. Sometimes getting away from the world you're encompassed in for a couple hours helps you see your world from the outside.
But how can I say that to this friend who wants honesty but will more than likely see that I'm on facebook, "liking" and responding to mine and other's posts during my desire to be antisocial?

And also, I have two friends that have an incredible gift of getting me out of my funk. How must I explain that to her, when she talks with these friends and hears that during my time of being overwhelmed, that I was turning to them?

This is why we are so often lying, dancing around the truth, and avoiding.

People say, "If they can't accept you and what you're telling them, then they aren't your friends."
But if you were to put yourself in their shoes, would YOU be able to understand? Maybe they're more understanding than you are. Maybe they've had a rotten day and your words broke them. Maybe you would take the truth far harsher than your friend did.

I guess I don't really have an ending to this post as I have at times lied, given half-truths, avoided, and told the truth, mostly with the same response: a negative reaction.

I'll sum it up with this:
If you say you can take the truth, you better be prepared to take it when it's given. And if you can't take it when it's given, you better have a legit excuse of your own.

Shaming someone or guilt tripping them for believing they could be honest with you puts you in poor light, my friend, and now, you won't be so readily trusted.

**The Crazy talkin'
....or so that's what some people are saying.

Others are saying we all need to chillax and not get so caught up in a bunch of nothing. 

So, which should you believe?

I wish I had an answer for you.

But I do have an opinion...well, hello, I have several opinions, but here I share one. 
I recycle. (Aren't you proud of me?)

Not because I choose to. (Now are you?)

Because the city, for some odd reason, only picks up trash once a week.
Hello, in AZ it was twice a week! Isn't everything "bigger in Texas"?
Yes, it is. Including the amount of trash we pile into our trash bins.

But since the trash man only comes around on Wednesdays, we are obligated to use the recycle bin so that we don't have an overabundance of trash bags laying around the already full trash bin to be attacked by wild creatures or those looking to find "treasures" they can sell at their yardsale.

I have learned in the many years that we have lived here that recycling ain't all that bad. For the first few years we lived here, the city had set up some rewards program with a company that would give us so many points for how much we recycle and if we save enough points, we could trade them in for gift cards and maybe other things, but I was mostly into getting the gift cards to notice the others.

The city ended this program and yet, out of habit and fear of what possums, raccoons, odd people, and stay dogs could do to my trash, I still recycle.

I have a small recycle bin inside the house that I use my superior Tetris skills to get as many recyclable items to fit in it. A lot of boxes within boxes or collapsed boxes within one box. If it looks like it would remotely fit, you better believe I would make it work.

One day I finished using my favorite, generic Clorox wipes and went to put it in the recycle. I looked in my recycle bin and found the empty box used for trash bags, sitting open, a blank space that was going to be filled before I took my small recycle bin outside to empty it.




I hear myself say before considering my words, "Can I fit this round peg into this square hole?"

And so I tried.



I found resistance. The wipes container was just a hair too large to fit into the empty box of trash bags.

But I was persistent. It had to fit. I was going to make it.

Between the stubbornness of the size difference and the stubbornness I had to make them fit so I could get on with my cleaning, the items in hand finally gave up and "fit" together.




I finally listened to the words I said as I stared at this box with the container jammed inside. Can I fit this round peg into this square hole?

How often do we feel like we are jammed into a life that doesn't seem to fit who we are? And while we "fit", we feel like something is missing or that we don't feel free to fully express our self?

And the bigger question is: how in the world can get we get out of that?

I often wonder if there is a blanket response for everyone.
The more I think about it and the older I get, I don't know if there is.

Then, what is the option for you?
That's when things can get tricky.

I think sometimes we want to take a path that we feel would be fun/exciting/life-chaning, or in this case, for our betterment and don't try because we fear failure. So we instead take a step back after inching forward, returning to our usual rut we have been complaining that we're "stuck" in while everyone around us seems to be making strides just fine.

Does it matter if we fail? What would honestly happen to us if we did? If we took a path that felt right to take, or a path that we think would help us become more of the person we feel inside and we fail, does that mean we were wrong? Does that mean the path wasn't right?

No.

Maybe that is the right path to take. But maybe the timing is wrong.

One way to know which path to take to is to truly know who you are.
Again, that's when things can get tricky.
How can one know them self in a world that has shaped who they are?

I remember taking a walk several years ago, thinking about my life and the person I was and how I built this "empire" within me to be the kind of person I thought everyone else wanted me to be. I also built myself with the skewed perception of what I thought God wanted me to be.
I remember saying a prayer in my heart, knowing that in order to be fully and authentically me, that I would need to tear down just about everything that I built.
I felt a hot tear hug the outer corner of my right eye. That would take TIME. Time on my own.
"How I can I do that, God, while still being there for my family as a wife and mother should?"

As I watched my feet hit the concrete underneath me I heard a quiet answer from within. An answer that was said in the purest love I have ever felt.
"We will do a little at a time."

I am not here to say that my "empire" has been completely broken down, rebuilt, and now looking wonderful. But during the time between that walk and now, I have changed a lot. And for the better. I'm still finding things I need to improve on. I'm still so incredibly flawed.

But I have found truth in the simple phrase, "To thine own self be true."

How can you do that? There's many answers and to each person, their answer is different. But these are my answers and possibly they could help you.

1. Stop keeping secrets from yourself. They only make them bigger. Own up to your faults so you can release them.

2. Get to know every last detail of yourself. Yes, I'm telling you to take some friggin' time for yourself already! I know we tend to load up that extra time on our calendar with more things ("Sure, I can help out with the school bakesale! Five dozen brownies, on the double!", "Oh, you need me to pick up and watch your kids during that small amount of time I have before going to my doctor appointment? Ok!") and come the end of the week we are exhausted and not only on our last leg but our last nerve.
I often think of Ann Perkins on Parks and Rec when she said on few episodes, "I'm dating myself".
So do that!
Do what it takes to know who you are.

3. Write in a journal as often as you can. Write what makes you happy. Write what doesn't. Write when you receive little inspirations as to who you are. Write when you have a natural reaction to something you used to react differently to.

4. Most importantly, find a healthy hobby. Find that one thing that you can do that doesn't consume your life but is there if you need an escape. I have two things that are my go-tos when time feels like it's weighing down on me:
          a. My healthy hobby and escape: The gym. I go in the mornings to help keep myself feeling healthy and sane (and that's no joke). Also, I can always go back and run some more laps if I need an outlet. If not, I can take a walk around my neighborhood.
          b. My escape: Taking a drive and turning up the music REAL LOUD. There's a particular CD I've had for about ten years that is grungy, and distorted and this perfect, beautiful blend of chaos. During my high anxiety days, I will take a 20 minute drive and turn that CD on. The music mirrors my inner emotions and pulls them out.

What healthy hobbies and escapes do you have?

That's my tidbit of advice. Remember, please remember, that you are designed to be unique. There will never be another you on this earth. So make the most of your time so when you look back on your life, you'll have no regrets.

Get out of that square hole. Even if you can only inch your way out of it at a time. That's still progress.

Tell me about your experiences! How did you get out of that square hole? What advice would you give others struggling to find themselves?
Ever since understanding what looks good and me and what doesn't, I have struggled most with makeup. Generally if I find a color that works great on me, I end up just using that color the most of the time as I find it tiresome to look for a color at the store with their bright florescent lights and then hope it looks good on me and when it doesn't, I'm too lazy to change it and therefore, carry it around on my face the whole day.

So what is awesome about drugstore makeup is that it's relatively cheap enough for error.

A few months ago I bought this:


It looked great on the shelf, I figured it would work for me. Warm creams and browns. I couldn't fail, it was the perfect "Type 3" colors!

I looked gross.
Straight up not right.

But since I only spent two dollars and change on that bad boy, and used it twice, tops, I gave it to a family member who said it would look great on them. 

I honestly have yet to find a set brown eye shadows that would look great on me. 
Explain that one, sweetheart.

I was watching some makeup tutorials and found one of my favorite youtubers showing us how to make her gorgeous, myriad of purples on her eyes.
I realized then that I hadn't worn purple eye shadow in ten+ years. Why ten years? Because that's when the purple eye shadow I bought for my wedding was probably all used up. 
I never bought more purple eye shadow after that...probably because I realized I caught my man, became a baby making machine, started putting makeup last on my priority list and when I did wear makeup, I rarely wore eye shadow.

I sure love this palette! 



Body issues are real.

And just because someone is fit and healthy doesn't mean they are immune to body issues.

I can't tell you how much I envy any woman who can show off her body, in a swimsuit, with pride.

I remember being very young, stepping on my mother's scale (a usual occurrence I did) and seeing it say 74lbs. I would then look at the number 80 and think, "If I ever get to 80 pounds...." and while I don't remember exactly what I would say after that ("...I would just die" or "I would be so sad"), I just remember instantly feeling anxiety and a loss of control of my life and over my happiness.

Well, I don't recall what I did when I finally reached 80lbs but deep inside I knew it was bound to happen anyway.

A later memory takes me back to when I stepped on Mom's scale again, it saying I was 90-ish pounds and my mind would repeat the words "If I ever to get to 100 pounds..." with those same anxious feelings returning.

I remember being young and critiquing my body. I have a picture of me in a short skirt, taken around 9 or 10 years old. It was my best and worst piece of clothing. I loved it on some days, and on other days, I felt fat and disgusting when I looked at myself.

I had a friend once tell me I wouldn't understand what he was going through because he spent his whole life overweight and then lost the weight while I was only overweight while I was having kids and then lost the weight.

And while his pain may be different than mine, we both spent our life in a struggle we felt we could not hold any control of getting away from.

I honestly have no idea why and what started my weight issues and Body Dysmorphic Disorder at such a young age. I was never treated ill by my family and while siblings would tease here and there about my looks (I'm one of 7 children, teasing is what you're raised with!), I understood they were joking and didn't take their words seriously, as we weren't that kind of family to intentionally tear each other down.

This BDD took a turn for the worst when in high school I decided to no longer eat.
At the time I was 105 pounds.
My BMI is at the lowest point (18.6) before being considered "Underweight". If I lost a pound, I would have been.

I remember sitting in my room, listening to Ace of Base (respect) on a Sunday afternoon, starving.
I would suck on some pieces of candy to get me by.
This became a regular ritual of mine. If I were in my room, I was away from everyone, and especially away from food.

Thank God with the help of great parents, my church, and my counselor, I pulled through and was healthy again.

But in my mind I always carried around the mentality that I was a bigger girl and that my weight defined whether or not I had control in my life.

I'll stop there for now.
I am doing far better than I was, that's a fact and that I am grateful for.
I feel I understand why I went through all I did.
That's for another post.
But for now, come listen to me rant about the joy (read: annoyance) of having body issues.


This is part one of a three part video. I'm going on a cruise! And I just might be going crazy!


Firstly, 
I must give credit where support and credit is due. I leaned on two specific friends (J and A) during this time who were a wonderful listening ear as well as a strength to me during this time. They know who they are and I love them for their willingness to just be present in my life during this time. It was an act they didn't have to do. They're perfect examples of selfless love.
Thank you ladies. You are beautiful, inside and out.

Since May 31, 2014 I have changed my name from The Type 3 Woman, to just the generic The Type Woman.

And it appears like people care to know more about my reasoning for that than anything else I have to write.

Why is that, I wonder?
Probably because there's a whole community of people who love Dressing Your Truth, as well as Carol Tuttle and her team and so why would someone like me, who avidly loves the system so much, just seem to walk away from it all and talk no more about it?

I'm certain it looked like I left everyone in that community, without caring to say goodbye to some awesome friends I've met along the way, when the fact is that I felt forced to leave it.

I read Carol's book, "It's Just My Nature" a couple years ago and it justified everything that I hid within that was "wrong" with me and had me understanding that it was all "right". Here I was struggling with my identity, with who I really am, with what I wanted God to want me to be as my sense of self was a mess while I pressed myself to conform to a lifestyle and a personality that frankly makes me gag when I look back on it.

I was strangely happy and found it was most "natural" to be the type of person that I convinced myself my whole life as "wicked", "evil", and "crude". And to me, all three of those negative words meant one thing: that God would be disappointed in me if I dare continue to let that persona out.

Carol's book did not fall into my hands, by my amazing friend Rebecca, by mere chance.
Looking back I see God's hand in His finding the perfect time for me to read her book, so that I, Ladee, may know of a surety that God made me as ME and not to be someone else, especially a person that tradition said I should be.

And here I saw an opportunity too, to have fun with his new understanding of who I was. I literally took it, embraced it and ran with it! And that's when I started making a blog, youtube, facebook, instagram and google plus account.
I was reaching out to all I could find who, too, loved this system. I wanted to talk all day to everyone about the different Types.

And so I posted away!

I thought nothing of it and thoroughly enjoyed being The Type 3 Woman when I posted something, late February, that I shouldn't.
I posted one of the Types color card and within that blog post, also talked about a coloring system. Both of which to many, don't correlate, but to me, it does most of the time.
I then got a message on facebook, from a very kind woman, who helped me understand my wrongdoing as well as linked me to Dressing Your Truth's Terms of Use.

I took down the post and out of respect for a system that I love, I decided I would be more careful in the future.

But something didn't sit right with me.

These Terms of Use were a "Membership Program Agreement".

I never paid for any program and I did not buy Carol's book from her website. I bought it used online, an old print. So old the pages fell out.
I wasn't a member.

I decided to put it behind me until a few months later. When I got another message.

Dated May 26, 2014

Dear Madam,

Some of my material has been published without my consent on your Facebook and YouTube pages.

(...)

Carol Tuttle

Also in this message I am told I have until May 31, 2014 to change my accounts.  To take out "Type 3" as my label.

All in five days.

I was a mess of emotions.
Here I thought I was helping the DYT team. I was bringing people to their fold, making certain that those that came on my blog/youtube/facebook/instagram knew that I wasn't affiliated with their team, and neither that I was a professional.

So I changed everything and claimed myself "The Type Woman". It was basic. It was generic. For all anyone knew, I could very well be talking about different blood types before they assumed I was referring to a "type" of personality. And if I was talking about personality "types", one would assume I was talking about the MBTI Types that are used when applying for jobs before I was talking about any other system.

And then I got this, May 31, 2014:

Subject: TheTypeWoman.com

TheTypeWoman.com
Dear Ladee Lyon,

Thank you for your attention and efforts to be in compliance and remove the copyrighted material from your videos, sites, blogs, posts, and Instagram and other social media sites where you are promoting yourself. The term Type cannot be used in your site links or any promotion of yourself or others as it is specific to Carol Tuttle's Dressing Your Truth, Energy Profiling, and Beauty Profiling copyrighted work and intellectual property. To complete the compliance request this will need to be corrected by the end of the day with the other compliance requests for May 31, 2014.

Thank you for your prompt and immediate attention to this matter. We are grateful for your support and attention to honoring Carol Tuttle's copyrighted work.

Sincerely,
Dressing Your Truth
Copyright Compliance Officers

And I again had a near meltdown.
I considered how to change everything, again, and if I even had the TIME to do so.
I didn't want to cause any problems! I didn't want to get into any trouble.
So should I spend the whole day changing everything, again? To keep the peace?

But then I noticed something. The subject line of this message says, "TheTypeWoman.com". I had no website with that! I only had my blogger account. It was so strange that such an important detail, in my opinion, was overlooked that I decided to click on the links of those who actually SENT these facebook and youtube messages, claiming themselves as "Carol Tuttle" and "Dressing Your Truth".

And I thought you'd like to click on them too.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=686125647
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWwhLs2EjaIiKm3-IihG2fg

Who, in heaven's name, are these people with these accounts?

One answer is, "Well, they could be Carol Tuttle's 'people'."

Sure, maybe.
But I sure found it weird.
I decided I wasn't going to labor over changing my accounts...again. They were just fine as they were.

And then someone posted this, May 29, 2014:

The link has long been removed and will pull up a 404 code but another requirement was for this blog assistant was to be familiar with youtube and wordpress.
Something that I indeed AM.

And that was it.
That was the final straw.

I felt like even if I were to apply for this job, I would get shut down. I felt like they wanted me to apply so that they could shut me down.

By this time I felt like Carol Tuttle and her team were nothing but a bunch of bullies. Friends of mine were leaving DYT groups because moderators were micro-managing and dropping people from the group. Carol Tuttle herself was telling people they were in the wrong DYT group, leaving these women confused, hurt, and berated....something the system, I so firmly believed, did the absolute opposite.
I was also one, of many, who had to change their name/title due to some fancy written message that scared us into doing it as it was never anywhere close to our intention to do anything wrong, but show the world how wonderful this system is.

All in all, they wanted nothing to do with me and wanted me to be far from their system. To no longer claim them again.

So, I didn't. Feeling battered and left in the dust their tires kicked up after dumping me off, I removed the "3" from my name.

I then took a large dose of what all I had left: time.
I kept telling close friends who knew about this that I wasn't going to post anything about this on my blog as "I don't want to give DYT any satisfaction that they controlled me".

But yesterday I decided to go against that.

This week I found something.
Forgiveness.
A few days ago I was talking to my friend about the Types (something I have been doing for a while now) and suddenly found myself shedding the scales of bitterness and rejection I felt towards Carol Tuttle and her team. While I don't understand why and what had me shedding these negative emotions now, instead of sooner, or rather instead of later, but I realized a weight that had been present on my shoulders were removed. While the sting is still there, I feel the sting is no longer directed to Carol, her team, or to any person.

I am liberated.

I still am unsure as to how I am going to move forward when it comes to talking about The Four Types System, especially Dressing Your Truth.

Time will tell.

And there you have it, the answer to the question you all have been asking.
This summer while I was learning a whole slew of things, Mr Hunter was learning something too.

Like, "how many drum sets and drum parts can one fit into a 350 square foot room?"

Mr Hunter loves a bargain. He loves the whole "buy low, sell high" game and I tell ya, this man is incredible at it. My "surprise" reaction has become desensitized with just how easily these deals fall into his hands. Law of attraction much? I've finally convinced him the universe is on his side now. ;) Yet, he never falls short of that high he gets from a great deal and I still find it adorable how he giggles like a child Christmas morning just before the deal goes through; him selling the item for a considerable profit.

How that happiness I see on his face is worth far more to me than most things...

...like having the purpose of a room changed into another purpose.

Since this summer, drums have been the theme in this buying/selling game. And while I took these pictures, the title of this post was the exact words I said to him.


Two drum sets in a room doesn't look too bad, right?


How about from this angle? Photobomb by Boy Dolphyn, the shirtless muscle man.


Zoom out this is how the room really looks. I have no shame posting this online but if you were to come over to my house and see this, I would be mildly mortified. And by mildly I mean I would go hide into my room until you left.



Mr Hunter's snare drum collection just had to be put on display if we're going to have them for a while, right? When I mentioned my desire to use these items for decorative purposes, Mr Hunter became a deer in headlights. But when he saw this, my decorating skills became welcome. We're considering adding the mess of cymbals he has on the walls. 




These cymbals. Believe me when I say that this collection has grown.


And I think we have more stands than fingers and toes on all five of us living under this roof! 


Oh, did I say we have two drum sets in this room? I forgot, I meant THREE. 


But my all-time, favorite part of these summer deals is when we took the parts of another drum set Mr Hunter bought and I turned one bass drum into....
A toy box. I love it! Whodathunk that drums can be multi-purposeful! And had the rest of that drum set's drum shells had not been ruined, I would've used them as storage for other things. 

No worries, I'm confident I'll have another chance to do that. :)

Do you ever compromise things for those you love? As hard as it is?? Sure, I'd like to have my sitting/laundry folding room back, as well as a broad walkway to the laundry room and garage. But seeing my husband's talent being put to use makes me just plain happy.

That man seriously needs to open a shop though, before the whole house looks like this! ;)