GingerSass

adding ginger to your sass

GingerSass - adding ginger to your sass

I love surprising people.

23til23

One of the #23til23 challenges I’ve received was to surprise someone with baked goods. This challenge coincided with a friend’s birthday so I sent her a care package of gluten free chocolate chip candy cane cookies.

Things I learned from this challenge include:

1. It’s a bitch to find gluten free products.

1a. There’s actually a section of the grocery store devoted to gluten free mixes.

2. Vanilla extract is not gluten free.

3. I’m not sure what makes something gluten so someone should explain that to me.

4. I need to invest in a mallet so I don’t demolish candy canes by combat boot for cookies.

5. The post office actually does mail things on time occasionally.

6. Beaker is fun to draw.

7. Gluten free cookies taste just as good as gluten-y cookies.

picstitchI had a lot of fun making these gluten free candy cane cookies, and the reaction of their recipient was pretty damn awesome.

What nice things do you like doing for people?

 

#23til23: The last day of this journey! (Sort of.)

23til23

I’m slacking in #23til23 posts because classes started this past week, and I’m lazy.

I also decided to extend my #23til23 journey to be the entire year of 23. This basically means I’ll be taking more chances, trying new things, and mis-categorizing everything as #23til23.

You’re welcome.

Anyways, to wrap up the #23til23 journey, on Friday morning I wrote a letter. It still needs to be edited– a lot– but I wrote a heartfelt letter to my extended family coming out as a blogger and a lesbian.

As I said in the letter, “I’m not sure what’s taken me so long to write you all this letter. Perhaps it’s my laziness, or perhaps, well, it really just is laziness. I’d rather be reading, shopping for new accessories, or baking chocolate chip cookies than writing you all a letter that really shouldn’t affect anything between us.”

I realized this past week that I was turning 23, and one of my biggest fears of 23 was not being true to myself as I graduate grad school, enter the working world, and become a truly legitimate adult. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty open about my sexuality and my blog. I just haven’t found the need to tell my extended family about them because they’re just as much a part of me as my hair color or my height. I don’t write my family letters telling them, “Oh, by the way, I have red hair and my driver’s license says I’m 5’10”.” They just doesn’t seem like necessary facts to state or make a big deal about, which is how I feel about my sexual identity and blogging life.

I am who I am, and minuscule details shouldn’t matter to those who care about me.

After I look over the letter again, edit it a bit, and probably consider not telling my extended family about my blog (sorry if you’re reading this in the distant future after I’ve decided to share it with you!) I’ll probably send it out in an email.

I can only imagine the subject– “I’m a flaming homo,” “I’m coming out,” or “I’m slightly famous on the internet because I’m a celesbian” will probably suffice.

To be honest, this whole coming out thing is kind of weird to me because I’ve actually forgotten that I’m not out to the whole freaking planet. I don’t care about what my extended family thinks, and while I’ll be sad if they don’t accept me, I’m at a place in my life where I’m extremely satisfied with what life has handed me. I’ll be graduating with my M.Ed this year. I had a life-changing student teaching experience. I’m writing and reading poetry again. I am in a healthy, loving relationship. I have the best friends that a girl could ask for. I have a lot going for me, and I’ve never been happier.

So, bring it, extended fam. I’m a flaming homo, and I am a blogger. Welcome to my life.

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This is why I’m not a fancy undies type of girl…

23til23

In the latest #23til23 challenge, the lovely brains behind DeadCowGirl challenged me to add fanciness to my underwear drawer.

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I’m more of a solid cotton underwear type of girl.

I was terrified to go to a Victoria’s Secret on my own, and I needed to pick up a pair of fake nails for going out tonight, so yesterday I decided to buy a pair of cheap, fancy underwear and a matching bra. I went to Walmart.

This probably should’ve been a sign of things to come.

I quickly sifted through the bras, looking for ones I wouldn’t be too embarrassed to be wearing if I was in a car accident, knocked unconscious, and the doctors and nurses at the hospital had to put me in a hospital gown. (Because this is logical thinking, people.) After I accomplished Mona’s challenge (well, sort of. I didn’t get fitted for a new bra but whatever. It’s still my size.), I found my fake nails and headed to the checkout lines… Where I was left floored.

Every single cashier was either a sweet-looking old lady or a sketchy looking old man.

I was buying a fancy bra/ undies set and fake nails.

At Walmart.

On sale.

That’s probably the trashiest scenario ever, and I probably didn’t look like I was a wholesome girl.

I probably looked like I was Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman” before Richard Gere swept her off of her feet and changed her life forever.

It also didn’t help that I was wearing a shorter dress and boots on one of the coldest days EVER.

I felt like a slut.

ANYWAY.

I seriously panicked. I thought about buying a sweatshirt or a snuggie or SOMETHING, ANYTHING to go with my trashy purchases so I wouldn’t have little old ladies or sketchy old men thinking I was a prostitute.

Then I noticed a cashier who was in her 20’s and looked like she was pissed off that she was working at Walmart.

Phew.

I got on her line, and suddenly I heard a voice say, “Kailynn!”

Well, crap.

It was a friend of one of my former residents who unofficially became my resident. He knew me as a professional, mature, chick-in-charge sort of person. Our conversation went like this.

Him: Kailynn!
Me: Hey! How are you? (trying to fold up bra and hide it on register)
Him: Good, you?
Me: Good, good…
Him: So what are you buying?
Me: (without missing a beat) A lacy bra, some underwear, and fake nails.
Him: Uhhh… I gotta go. (quickly leaves)
Cashier (starts laughing hysterically for 5 minutes)

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And that, folks, is why I prefer tighty whities and bras I bought in high school during a back to school sale at Kohl’s.

Thanks for the challenge, Mona!

The official #23til23 countdown wraps up tonight at midnight, but I’ve decided to make #23til23 something I participate in all year long. Send your challenges my way, people, and be sure to take a shot of tequila or rum for me tonight at midnight EST. 😉