15 Pounds

I have always been 'that' girl.

The girl we all hate. Who eats fries, and ice cream and pizza with reckless abandon.

The girl who disdains working out and when she hears about other people's workouts says things like 'Eww won't you get sweaty?!'

The girl who despite her horrendous diet, and mostly sedentary lifestyle still fits in her size 4 jeans from high school.

I have always been 'that' girl.

Until I wasn't.

2016 sucked. The last half of the year was awful. The first 3 months of 2017 weren't so great either. I will write in a little more detail soon about everything that was going on, but it was ROUGH.

I was going through the motions to make sure my child was cared for, my family who needed help was getting it, my job wasn't falling to shambles, and all my bills were paid. I was eating out all the time, and not great stuff either. I should probably buy stock in all the major fast food companies. I was going through bags of potato chips in 2 days. Family size boxes of Ritz crackers in 1. I was drinking ridiculous amounts on Pepsi just trying to keep my eyes open long enough to get through one more Excel spreadsheet. Then I was coming home and staring at Netflix in my bed for hours. This was beyond binge watching. This was depression.

When I came home from work last Friday I was fed up. My cousin had posted a picture of us from our weekend concert adventure and even though I posed strategically and sucked in, my tummy was sticking out. All day at work Friday the button on my jeans had been in the fight of its life with the button hole. This was the loosest pair of jeans I own. (Let's also give a moment of silence to the pair of jeggings that I split WIDE OPEN in the middle of the Phoenix airport.) Then there was the walk up a flight of stairs for a meeting that left me hopelessly and embarrassingly winded.

I marched straight into my mother's room and picked up her scale. I took it into the bathroom, stepped up and I already knew what was coming wasn't great.

I had manged to put on 15 pounds.

Fifteen.

This photo is scary to post. I'm still sucking in for dear life here.

This is the most I have weighed as an adult outside of pregnancy, and I mean come on, I WAS GROWING A PERSON.

So Saturday, I took my mother's dog for a walk. We went about a mile and a half which really isn't that much, but we were up and outside and moving. He loved it.

Sunday, I decided to try out a hot yoga class at a local studio. A former coworker of mine raves about this place, and another former co-worker taught classes there. They offer your first class free and so I finally bit the bullet and signed myself up for it.

Hot yoga. In 105 degrees. What kind of idiot who hasn't worked out since high school sports goes in for that kind of punishment.

THIS GIRL!

I sat in the parking lot for a minute because I was scared. I was intimidated. Then I realized it would be far worse to keep going in the direction I am and have to buy an entirely new wardrobe because frankly, I can't afford it.

So I went in. They had me all set up with a mat, and towel, and water. AND IT WAS HOT.

But I liked it. (I actually LOVE hot cars which is another weirdo thing about me....) The instructor came in and opened the practice with a quote.

It was just what I needed to hear, because I was about to go through some stuff in that yoga class.

I have never sweat so much in my life. My arms were shaking, my legs were shaking, and there were quite a few times where I found myself in child's pose on the mat. When it was all said and done though I felt fantastic. I went out and signed myself up for 10 more classes to hold myself accountable to go back. I totally get why some of my friends are workout FANATICS.

I'm not saying 1 hot yoga class changed me. It didn't. I had fries and a crispy chicken Caesar salad from Wendy's for dinner. It did make me feel better than I have in months though. I'm willing to make some changes in my behavior to feel like this on a more regular basis. I can't take care of Boomer or anyone else if I don't take care of myself.

So here's to not being 'that girl' anymore.

Humpday Confessions : 4.27.16

Good Lord I haven't done a link up in ages...so why not today!?

• The federal government decided to increase my student loan payments and my immediate knee jerk reaction was. Eff you all I'm never going to pay it back!!!! I mean I am going to pay it back, but now my whole monthly budget has to be re-tweaked. YAY ADULTING

• Boomer and I have had pizza and salad for dinner the past two nights.

• I haven't listened to, or watched Lemonade. I don't care who Becky is. Bey just wants ya'lls money. But at the same time, Hey #blackgirlmagic!

• Sometimes I am a petty chick. I don't know why, but its funny and I enjoy it and the Lord and I are working on it. 

• I can't wait for this weekend, because I'm going to a party and there is an open bar.
• This may be the worst post I've ever written.....

KGB turns 4!!!!!!!!!

Wow...

I can't believe that 4 years ago today I wrote my first post!

My blog back then....oh boy I wish I had screen caps. I know nothing about blog design so I had the most basic of basic templates and I just had no clue what I was doing.

That being said I still don't.

My current design was created by someone else, even though I read Sarah's tutorials I still can't make all my pictures the same size, and for a while there my bloggy was silent.

Blogging has been an amazing outlet over the past 4 years. I met some of the coolest ladies here in my own city that I am blessed to call my IRL friends. I've 'met' other equally cool ladies from across the country and globe. I've used this space to write about parenting, and the off the wall Sh*t Boomer Says. I've talked about my relationships with men, my family, and myself. I've even shared my favorite beauty tips and tricks...and there was a brief foray into fashion blogging. :shudder:

So happy 4 YEARS KGB!!!!!

On Self Improvement...Or 'Oh Sh*t...I'm almost 30!'

I currently sit on the board of the alumni association for my high school, the school that Boomer currently attends. We are in the midst of planning our all class reunion that will take place in August. Yes, all class. We are a very small school so it makes no sense to do reunions for individual classes.

Anyway, thinking on this, I asked a friend 'On a scale from 'meh' to 'Oh wow!' how great of shape do you think I can get in in 60 days?' Then we went on to discuss outfits, hair, and makeup.

This morning however, I took a long naked gaze at myself in the mirror. I'm really not unhappy with what I see. Could I have a little more muscle here and there? Sure! Do my clothes from high school still fit? Yes.

 I do find myself thinking about things differently though lately. With this most recent health scare I realize I HAVE to take better care of myself. Not just to look hot in bathing suits and at reunions, but also to make sure that I'm healthy and available to Boomer for the next 20 years. I need to eat healthier. I need to exercise. I need to drink less coffee and more water. I need to take care of my skin, not so I can look perfect in instagram selfies, but so I can look as awesome and ageless as my mother and grandmother in real life.

In a few weeks I'll be 29. This is the last year of my 20s. Most people dread the big 3-0, but the past couple of years have made me excited for my 30s. Yes, you read that right. Excited. I've learned so much about me. Who I am. What drives me. What I will accept in my life from friendships, relationships. What I have to offer. As I have learned all this, it makes me so excited for the next 10 years!

I guess the point of all this is, here's to self improvement for self improvements sake.

Although it won't hurt to be a hot mom at the reunion so I need to find a dress.

While the Blog Was Sleeping

I have missed this blog.

I've missed writing and interacting with all the amazing people I've gotten to know across blog land.

Depression and anxiety make even the most basic things hard. So once Boomer was fed and taken care of, and I'd done my work that was it. That was all I had. When you see those ridiculous 'Depression hurts, but you don't have to' commercials...and there is like a shadow following the animated girl around? That was me.

Except less of a shadow and more like...invisible weights. Weights on your body and your spirit.

What's worse is the awareness that you are not yourself, but feeling incapable of affecting change.

I feel like now, I'm getting back to myself. I'm ready to make an effort to go out and be social, to do things that I enjoy, and be present in my own life.

This means actively making choices to not sit on my couch for an entire weekend. To not blow of social engagements and....well like I said just be present.

The post I wrote last week about the #OHBlogger's meetup? What I didn't write, was that I had to make myself get up, get dressed, put on makeup and go. The effort was worth it though, as you can tell from my post.

It's all about the journey right?

Songs of My Youth : Part 1

Hi Lovelies!

I don't know why I did it, but last week I made a Backstreet Boys Pandora, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand its pretty awesome actually. I've been belting out 90s bubble gum pop for days. Boomer thinks its beyond ridiculous. (Take THAT Beiber.) Anyway it got me to thinking how these songs were just so deep and meaningful back in the day. I would play them over and over and write in my diary about all my angst. Ah, so much angst. Degrassi had nothing on me. (Or so I thought.) It also got me to thinking how....things are a little different now. Take this gem for example.

This is absolute foolishness.

I used to sing this song at the top of my lungs whenever someone told me I was wrong for dating a particular boy. I LOVED him. No one understood our love. We were going to get married. We discussed how we would decorate our house. It involved a lot of black and gold, and looking back was slightly horrendous. Ok, a lot horrendous, and tacky. Let's call this gem of an ex-boyfriend....Mr. Pitt. Mr. Pitt, was something of a compulsive liar. Which was odd because we grew up together and I always caught these lies....but I LOVED him. He was also very controlling, and tried to get me to change. He was always trying to get me to go against the values I held dear and things I'd been taught. In fact you can trace about 75% of my teenage rebellion and issues with Momma Boom to this relationship. Sorry Mom. When friends and family would caution me about our relationship, this song was my mantra. They just didn't know him the way I did. He loved me. He was cute. He was a great kisser. At 15 I was a notorious virgin. There were bets on how long it would last. I found out later, he had gone around our entire church telling everyone I was BEGGING him to sleep with me. The other boys at church basically laughed in his face, and informed him 'Whit won't let anyone touch her with a 10 ft pole so we KNOW you're lying.' Then there was that rumor that got started about us having sex in the baptismal pool. There is a giant picture of Jesus above that thing for crying out loud! He's almost 30 now. In hind sight....he was an awful boyfriend, but I learned a lot.

Now I know. There is a lot that matters. I absolutely care who you are. Did you change your name, are you on the run? 

I care where you came from. People say opposites attract and that may be true, but opposites have a lot of trouble living together or agreeing on how to live and raise a family. Trust me on this one. Background matters.

Duh, of course I care what you've done in your life. Are you a compulsive liar, a cheater, are you bad with money, did you beat your ex? This is all NEED TO KNOW.

Saying you love me isn't the quick fix salve it was in high school. Shoot at this point in my life I want to know your credit score and debt to income ratio.

Bye Lovelies!

*This post originally appeared on KGB 2/15/12*

Love and Memories...

I can't remember the first time he kissed me.

I know it was senior year, but I can't remember the exact moment in time like I can with other first kisses. I vividly remember my first kiss. I remember the first kiss from other boys, but I can't remember the first time he kissed me. I know I wrote about it, in one of the many volumes of journals I kept at the time. Every last detail, down to what we wore, how we tilted our heads, if noses bumped, where it happened, and exactly how it felt. I know it was at school. That's where everything occurred between us. The scandal that was 'us'. You can't be a senior dating a freshman without scandal.

I do remember, how his heart sounded when I laid my head against his chest in class. I remember spending more time listening to that sound, than my Spanish teacher. I remember holding his hand until both our palms were clammy with sweat. I remember letting go simultaneously, quickly rubbing my hand against my skirt, and then linking fingers again. I remember our fights. Always over something ridiculous because of my quick temper. I remember the perfect red rose in my locker, and the handwritten note that went with it. I remember the feel of his hair as I ran my hands through it in the cafeteria. How he towered over me, and enveloped me with his hugs. I remember...I remember dancing with him, and experiencing that moment everyone talks about, where its just the two of you in a crowded room.

I remember one kiss more vividly than most. More recent than high school so that aids the memory. He was driving, and held my hand across the center console as always. For some reason our palms less sweaty than in high school. It was pouring down rain, and we were on twisting, winding middle of no where country roads. The kind of roads, I was sure, if we drove off no one would find us for days. Every curve found me white knuckling my seat with one hand, and white knuckling his hand with the other. I prefer to drive myself in bad weather. He just chuckled every time.

'Don't you trust me?', he asked me.

We came to a stop where one road dead ended into another. I was still gripping my seat, staring dead ahead trying to breath deeply. I heard his seat belt click open and turned my head. I felt his hand on the side of my face, and then he kissed me. I smelled his cologne, felt his stubble scratch me lightly. That wasn't there in high school. I didn't move. I couldn't really. He kissed me, and I felt a jolt from the top of my head and down my legs. My fingers tingled and my lips stung. My heart pounded. My stomach dropped and then flipped. This kiss. This simple kiss to reassure me, and take my mind of the road affected me that much. It wasn't a long, just a moment. He pulled back and smiled at me in the impish way he does. When he knows he has won. Leaned back to the drivers seat, and put his seat belt back on. I raised my hands to my mouth, in the most cliche way possible thinking all these years later and his kiss still does that.

I can't remember the last time he kissed me.

Apparently I'm random on Fridays.

Hey All.

Look who finally made it to her bliggity blog today!

First up. Because all the cool kids are doing it...

You're welcome.

Secondly, Boomer had a biography project due in school today. They had to pick a historical figure and then put together a poster board presentation. On the poster board there was supposed to be a shape of something associated with their historical figure and 5+ thought bubbles with facts about this person.

Guys. How are our parents even alive?????

I wanted to rip out all my hair, cry, and do the project MYSELF. I know I'm supposed to let her learn things herself, but GOOD GOD. The facts that she chose were just so far out of left field. I stood there looking at her like....

Then she had the nerve to get mad at ME.

Do you know what happened next? Well I totally channeled my mother that's what happened.

'Listen here little girl. I'm already finished with school. I did elementary, junior high, high school, and college too. I don't need to do this work. I'm HELPING you.'

I shit you not, my mother said that word for word to me.  

So basically. We all will eventually become our parents.

When am I Going to Grow Up?

I fell of the blogging wagon hard this week.

This always happens when I'm sponsoring someone. Maybe it's just too much pressure for me to handle?

Anyway. Today's blog post is brought to you by random conversations with my friends. Yesterday I was chatting with Whitney. HER Whitney not me Whitney, because this could quickly devolve if you all thought I was talking to myself. Anyway, we were talking about bloggers that we admire. How beautiful their pictures were, or how they'd found success with a particular venture and I found myself saying:

I want to be like that. I want to be 'with it', 'together'. When am I going to GROW UP?

Was I a little jealous maybe? Sure! But that wasn't the only thing driving my random outburst.

I don't FEEL like a grown up.

Sure, I appear to be one. I go to work everyday, I pay my bills, most tellingly I am responsible for a tiny human. That said though I don't feel grown up. I don't feel like...like I thought I would as an adult. I'm not sure I have a calling. A thing. A look. When I talk about certain people we say 'oh that's so Christina' or 'Oh that's such a Rachel thing', or 'what a Lauren look'. I don't feel like I have those things. Or maybe I do and I don't realize it?

I'm just....28 years old and I don't FEEL, like I'm almost 30. I know I am. I know that I am 18 months away from that big birthday and I am fine with it. I'm totally ok with being the age I am. I just...well I assumed this age would feel different. More settled. More...well more something.

When am I going to feel 'with it'? When am I going to have a 'thing'? Or have I just had misconceptions of adulthood all along, and really all those 'growups' I admire and aspire to be like don't feel anymore grown than I do?

What Kind of Girl Are You?

I love these kind of posts, and since there are a lot of new readers around these parts, now is as good a time as any to talk about what kind of gal I am. Here is a link to the first time I linked up with Holly!

 

Without further ado I am the kind of girl who...

...goes through phases where I am deeply committed to all things beauty product related. (We're currently on week 3)

...a week after going through this phase becomes barefaced, wild tressed, with unpainted nails.

...gives people WAY too many chances.

...loves her cat. To the point I'd choose him over a man any day of the week.

...has a temper issue. It's pretty quick too. One second we're fine, the next is def con 4. This is where the nickname that gave us the blog name comes from. I've gotten a lot better since becoming a mommy, and also growing up.

...knows there is a fine line between friendly parent, and 'look guys I'm the cool mommy!!!'. I try to tread it carefully, but Boomer is just so darn cool sometimes guys!

... that hates teenagers. I mean I really don't like them. I think about sending Boomer to boarding school for high school. All. The. Time.

....has finally decided to just embrace the black clothing thing. It makes laundry really easy! I changed it up with some cream in my skirt today though. Woot!

...always wants to do something drastically different with her hair, but ends up rocking the same style for years.

...is endlessly amused by the shock and awe that occur in the office when I straighten my hair. "How LONG does that take?' At least no one asked to touch it this time!

...collects friends. I rarely cut people out of my life, even if they deserve it. This goes back to the too many chances thing. So they stick around, and I just collect more and more.

...collects rubber duckies. If anyone is looking for a gift...

...collected perfume bottles when I was younger, but not so much anymore, but can't really decide what to do with them. Remember this post...about how I'm almost a hoarder?

...who would rather curl up on the sofa with tea and a good book, than be out drinking in a bar.

...who has killer dance moves in the club though.

...really, really loves her city! Also...if any one is looking for a gift.

I'll be hopping around to find out what kind of gals you all are!

Vlog Like A Boss: Who is Katy????

Whats up guys?!

Decided to put together a little Vloggity to link up with Ashten today! We will call the ramblings below...a get to know Whitney vlog of sorts. If you have any questions you'd like answered, or things you'd like me to vlog about in the future let me know!

The Blogmopolitan Quiz

Hey All!

So Erin posted this on her blog today and I though...'That's cool, you should fill that out.'

Then I downloaded it, and proceeded to fill it out...which was difficult...because I suck and Microsoft Paint, and computers in general. So whatever...don't judge. I seriously deserve a cookie for getting this far!

See ya'll tomorrow!

If My Parents Only Knew?

So I think this post idea is genius Erin and Rebecca. Genius.

Except here is the thing.

My mother. Well, she knows ALL.

Its scary how much my mother knows.

Also...I have this tendency to confess. To everything. I'd be a terrible spy. I've been known to confess to something that happened 10 years ago. Something I've clearly gotten away with. 

Do you know what happens when I make these confessions to my mother?

She smiles at me ever so sweetly and cocks her head a little to the left and says, 'Yes Whitney, I know. I've always known.'

WHAT IN THEE HELL?!?!?!

Like when I confessed about losing my Vcard.

'Yes Whitney, I know. I've always known.'

See...I've always had a lotta hair.

Like when I ate the tops out of every layer of red velvet cake that my mother was making for a dinner. And I blamed it on a mouse. Who was trying to be helpful. By making the cakes level. Oh...yeah...mom I ate the tops.

'Yes Whitney, I know. I've always known.'

*And then she made me eat THE WHOLE CAKE. It sounds like it would be good. But an entire frosted red velvet cake will make your 8 year old stomach not want red velvet again for like....20 years.*

To be clear, I was a good student. A nerd basically. I stayed out of most trouble, just the usual kid/teenager stuff. My worst offenses were my smart ass mouth. Which got popped more than I like to admit. In the grand scheme of things, if Boomer is like me, I'll be ok with that.

Our Momma's were besties so we are too!

At the end of the day, I'm good with Mom's freakish knowledge of me, her only child. She knows all there is to know, and she still loves me. Also...she has passed on this strange super power to me.

When Boomer was a wee little thing, any time she started breathing a certain way I knew she was being naughty.

House eerily quiet? Boomer's doing something crazy.

Boomer pulling left ear, while telling me about her day? She is either leaving out something important, or straight up lying.

So maybe...all these things you think your parents don't know...they really do. Chew on that.

Laters! 

Adoption Day #28

Hi Lovelies!

Yesterday was Adoption Day. The day that, 28 years ago, I left my foster parents and went home with my mom and dad. The day everyone's (well at least in my family) life changed.

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If my parents hadn't adopted me, there wouldn't be a Boomer.

I think how different my life might have been.

I've never felt outside. Not a part of my family. I feel SO MUCH a part of my family.

I look like my mom. Boomer looks like her too. (It's almost scary.) I also look like my cousins, aunts and uncles. I am a good bit taller than most of the women in my family, especially on my dad's side. One of my cousins married a really tall guy though and her kids are evening the score. My extended family never made me feel different. I was always welcomed. The first time my grandfather met me he told me 'You can let your hair down now. You're with your people.'

When I think about the idea of mother, I've technically had three in my life.

My birth mother, who gave me the gift of life.

My foster mom, Ann, who took amazing care of me for the first 7 weeks of my life. (Seriously...you should see the notes she kept on my eating and sleeping that she gave to my parents!)

My mommy. Momma Boom. My best friend. My cheerleader. My tough talker. My...everything. She made me who I am.

I've technically had three dad's too.

My birth father, who stood by my birth mother's choice, and left me the most beautiful letter at the hospital explaining how loved I truly was.

My foster father, Vic, who I was named after for awhile (Victoria) and who made sure, along with Ann, that I was at church the very first Sunday of my life.

My Dad, Rick, whose shoulders I rode, who has cheered my every success, and loved me unconditionally.

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I was so blessed. I was so well cared for when I left the hospital. I never had the negative foster experience that some children do. I'm FB friends with my foster parents, and we send each other cards and updates to this day. I was adopted very quickly. I literally know no other family than the one I have. My birth mother, though she knew she couldn't raise me, took excellent care of me while I grew inside her. So very blessed. That is the one thing I think about this time of year. How different things could have been and how blessed I was and continue to be.

So happy Adoption Day Family!

P.S. National Adoption Day is November 23rd. You can find out more about it HERE.

Mommy Confessions: This morning...I lost my shiz...or at least I wanted to.

* I wrote this yesterday, when I was still freshly angry. 

I re-read it today, and I still find it amusing...so...yeah.*

This morning....there was a tube of black ink/paint in the wash.

In the load of half dry clothes.

Which means I've essentially baked in the ink.

Which means the clothes are ruined.

I know I had put it out into the universe that I wanted new clothes.

This is NOT what I meant.

This is one of those moments in parenting where you really want to ask your child: 'Da fuq?!?!?!?!'

No I don't talk to Boomer like that. But I really, really, really wanted to.

For Example: 

• 'Where in 'da fuq' did you come up with this tube of clothing killer?'

• 'I found it on the floor at Mimi's house.'

• 'Why in 'da fuq' would you just take something from Mimi's house?'

• 'I don't know Mommy.'

• 'Who in 'da fuq' is going to buy me new clothes for work?'

• silence....

• 'What in 'da fuq' is the matter with you?!?!?!?!'

• 'Sorry mommy...want to pray about it?'

So...we had the who, what, why, where conversation minus all the Eff bombs. Then she drops Jesus in the mix.

NO I DON'T WANT TO FREAKING PRAY ABOUT IT!!!!!

I want my clothes not to be messed up. I want for my kid to not be the most full of mischief seven year old in Columbus. I WANT to throw an tantrum.

I didn't. I told Boomer I needed some time alone. So I went upstairs, and took another shower. You can never be too clean, and the water calms me down.

I got out. I told her I loved her very much. She apologized, I told her I forgave her, and to stop being a klepto. Then we all went about our morning.

Good day all.

Who am I? : And other metaphysical musings....

Hello lovers.

I'm not recapping my weekend. I'm bored to tears with weekend recaps of drinking, and parties...and also my weekend was boring.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about who I am. What defines me.

Its strange that my friends and people around me have no issues describing me.

If you ask my friends to describe my style they will say something like 'Black Audrey Hepburn, with a little edge, and a little boho.'

If you ask them to describe me they will say things like 'sassy, speaks her mind, doesn't take sh*t from anyone, loud, outgoing...ect.'

A longtime friend told me this weekend, 'You always seem to get what you want...I've always wondered how you did that...'

My mom asked me to describe my home decor style. I think I said some crazy bull about mid century modern. Then today I found myself looking at this Versace plate.

And suddenly I want to do my whole living room in black red and gold. Last week I wanted to paint my bookshelves white. In my bedroom, I want a tufted headboard and a crystal chandelier.

But I want to dress exclusively in black leather.

And dye my hair dark purple.

I was raised by a lady. A true lady. My mother was a debutante. So was I. I'm sure Boomer will don a white dress and waltz in circles one day too.

My mom also chopped all her hair off, had an afro once, and I'm pretty sure she had a blond phase too.

I guess I'm wondering...why does it have to be either or?

Can't I wear full skirts, and pumps one day, and leather and studs the next?

Yes...I'd wear both of these....

Can't I be a 'lady' and still not take sh*t from anyone?

Why are we so consumed with definitions? Can't Whitney just be a study of opposing parts and contradictions?

I'm 28 years old and I still have no clue what or who I want to be. Added to that is the pressure is that I'm supposed to teach Boomer how to be an adult.

Is she confused by my confusion? Is this normal? Am I just having a delayed quarter life crisis...?

I'm not expecting to come to any sort of conclusion...just thinking...

Throwback Thursday : First Kiss

Leave it to Bon to come up with a post prompt that brings up post traumatic memories...well here goes.

I couldn't tell you the exact date it happened.

I know it was around my birthday, the summer between 8th and 9th grade.

I know this because he asked me what I wanted for my birthday. Thinking I was being clever I responded with, 'It starts with a K and ends with an S.' I was so smart.

Anyway this guy...let's call him..Sean, said 'Oh. You want a kiss.'

See I was really into this guy. We had kind of flirted our way through 8th grade. As much as you can as 13 years olds. I think the bulk of his appeal lay in the fact that he was taller than me. I was a giant. I've essentially been the same height I am now, since about 8th grade. So while I was wearing heels and hovering around the 6' mark in them, the boys were still in the 5'2"-5'5" range. Not Sean though, he was taller when I had heels on. He also played sax in the band, and I played flute so we were around each other all the time. Although, he never changed his reeds so they were always black.....

Anyway Sean leans in for the kiss. I'm ready. Ready for butterflies, and kicking up one foot a la Princess Diaries. I'm ready for movie magic.

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It. Was. Awful.

It was sloppy, he tasted weird (probably due to all those black reeds), and he stuck his tongue into my mouth like right off. For the record I still don't like that crap.

When it was all over he leaned back and said, 'Ok see you at school.', and walked away.

I felt violated. I thought if that's what kissing is I don't want anymore of that crap.

I went ahead and 'dated' him though, for the first half of school. Sean is also responsible for my first hickeys. That awful, humiliating episode took place at my freshman homecoming and culminated in him having to write my mother a letter of apology and me not being able to go to another dance until junior homecoming.

Luckily someone else, we'll call him...Mark, came along a few months later and then I got the butterflies...

Hey There! You new around these parts?

Well Hi all!

If you're popping over to visit from Life of Bon, HI!

If you're a newish follower in general, HI!

If you've been reading for awhile, HI!

I'd like to introduce myself a bit.

Yeah....I'm not in 4th grade anymore...

I'm Whitney and I blog a little here at Katy Goes Boom.

I'm a divorced (recently) mommy of one 7 year old little girl, who we call Boomer here in blogland. We also have a man in our lives. His name is Jack.

Yes, I'm a crazy cat lady.

I took the long road through college after having Boomer at 20, but I graduated from THE Ohio State University in 2011. (I like proving people wrong, so everyone who thought I wouldn't finish can suck on that.) I've lived here in Columbus, where OSU is located, since I was 6. (Minus the two year $40,000 vacation to an out of state school in Tennessee.....yikes) I am a nutso Buckeye fan. To the point that Boomer usually doesn't talk to me during games. I get a little intense.

Here on the blog I write about all kinds of things. The crazy stuff Boomer says and does. The sometimes serious thoughts that pop into my head. Also the not so serious thoughts that pop into my head, because let's face it there is a part of me that is still 17. I like to make my readers laugh a little and think a little too. If you're looking for a place to start you can click into The KGB Files and read through some of my favorite posts and my readers favorites too!

Basically, I am trying to figure out this whole life thing, be a good mom, figure out how being single works again, and keep all the plates spinning. So thanks for reading along!