Where it all began

40 year old men love me. And strangers. Strangers love me.

Examples:

• 40 year old single dad who followed me around in the grocery store
• 40 year old man who came up to me at Starbucks and asked if I wanted to get coffee
• Homeless man who offered me his phone number because he "thought everyone could use a friend"
• Stranger who let me eat their hamburger
• Stranger who offered me a ride home from the Megabus
• 40 year old man in airport who told me I looked beautiful that day
• Three 40 year old men who came to my rescue that moment and helped me find a cab
• 40 year old man at Chicago Union Station bar who told me he "wouldn't creep on me too much"
• Stranger who tried to hook me up with his son at a bar
• Strange taxi cab driver who gave me a kiss on the cheek

And the list goes on and on. While I can't seem to find any men my own age to hit on me, never fear...a 40 year old is near. Sometimes I ask myself, why? Why me? Is it my baby pudge cheeks? My lack of makeup? My split ends? Do I look young enough to be a prize, but just hot mess enough to be attainable? When did this start?

Answer: 2006. Junior year of HIGH SCHOOL. And the proof is in this photo. 

My friends and I went to France on a school trip, and my friend Cade and I shared a camera. Flipping through our photos a few weeks later, we found this gem (ignore my model half-smile). 

WHO IS THIS MAN?!?!?!

I'll tell you who...my first-ever creeper.

The Unreal Life: attracting strangers and old men since 2006. A legacy of creepers. 

I'm a Tree Fairy!

The other day, I was sitting on my ass couch watching TV when a commercial with the typical adorable child came on. Instantly, I started bemoaning "childhood is wasted on children. wouldn't it be great to be a child again...just for one day?" I thought of all the things I would do as a child again for just one day: not pay bills, not complain about whatever my mom cooked for dinner--just be grateful I wasn't cooking it, get a bunch of hugs, spend all day outside just playing. Remember when we were kids and we just went outside without having anything to do? As an adult, I feel like I can't really go outside without something to do. I need to be playing a specific game, taking a specific walk, or reading a specific book. But when I was a kid I would just go outside without any specific activity in mind most times...but four hours later I was dirty, tired, happy and content.

This weekend, winter visited Missouri.

I enjoyed laying on my couch for hours...but around 4 o'clock I wanted to start ramming my head against the wall. I caught myself whining "I can't even go to my gym classes because there's so much snow. Ugh." And then I saw my neighbors outside, building a snowman. My roommate thought they were crazy and I thought they were brilliant. They wanted to be outside, so they did. I wanted to be outside, so I did. At first, I took a walk. But that can only last so long. And then...I spied it. We had already had one tree fall, and my roommate and I were waiting for others to snap from the weight of the snow.

That's cool, I didn't need to get upstairs anyways.

I was desperate for a way to stay outside. And then it came to me. I could be the self-proclaimed tree fairy of my apartment complex. I could prevent other trees from snapping by ridding them of their too-heavy snow! So I ran around and shook all the branches I could find.

It hit me. Literally, and metaphorically. Metaphorically, my wish had come true. I was a little kid for a day. I didn't have a care in the world. I ran from tree to tree to tree, up hill, down hill, across the parking lot. Just shaking branches. Letting it avalanche onto my head. Sometimes pulling the branch back like a sling-shot and using it to hit the snow off the branch ahead. Unburying some branches that were already buried completely under the snow. It was wonderful. I know it sounds simple but--no, no buts. It was simple. And it was beautiful. It was fun and simple and thrilling. Each time I shook it, shrieked, got pelted by snow, and then got to watch the branch swing two feet up in the air, snow free again I felt a huge rush.

While I was swinging away, I was reminded of this quote.

I couldn't be a kid for a day then, but I could be a kid for today. When I wanted it, the answer was "not now." As a human, I oh so often assume that means "not ever." But today was a great reminder that our God is an awesome God, and he never forgets His children--down to their littlest desire. How beautiful.  Think of everything the Lord has to keep track of. Politicians, starving children, single moms, Pope Francis running away from his body guards (again) to go bless some homeless people. All these people and burdens and prayers...and yet He remembers me, a little ol' girl in Missourah, under a tree full of snow. Out of all of the requests and prayers and petitions He gets every single day, He remembered my one, thirty-second thought, "I want to be a kid again" and He made it happen.

Some of you are probably rolling your eyes. It was frickin' snow, get over it you may say. But to me, it was more. It was a reminder that "not now" doesn't mean "not ever." And I needed this reminder, desperately.  I've been stressing over everything--money, job, Missourah. And today, I got my answer. Not now. That doesn't mean He's forgotten me or that my life is over and I just have to deal with where I am. I'll get where I need to be, when I need to be. And along the way, I'll learn some cool things. Like today, I learned the coolest way to enjoy snow as an adult. And hopefully, I saved a branch or two.

Love,
The Tree Fairy

Now that's a rosy-pink shade of exertion that even my Bar Method teacher would approve of. Brought to you for free from the great outdoors.

You're bored? Do something. You want to get off your ass?  Get up.
You want to go outside? Go outside. Is it hard? You bet. Worth it? Absolutely.

I ran from tree to tree like a total moron. Do my neighbors think I'm crazy?
Who cares. I'm fabulous.

Friday Fun Hikes

Today I'm linking up with Helene for Travel Tuesdays! I have been so blessed to be able to do a little traveling so far in my life, and a lot of days when I get stressed and think I'm too far behind in life, I think over some of my adventures and realize 'Hey, I'm not doing too shabby.' But don't worry...they're all in fitting with the spastic, awkward-adorableness that you've gotten used to in The Unreal Life ;)

A few summers ago, I had the good fortune of living and working in Seattle, Washington for philanthropy-guru World Vision. We had to work a minimum of 25 hours a week to get paid, but we didn't get paid any extra for working any more. So, of course, some of the interns and I decided to take every single Friday off and explore a new spot of Washington.  Best. Decision. Ever. We called them "Friday Fun Hikes."There were four of us 'regulars': Me, Mathias, Kelsey and Stephen. New people would come in and out every week, but the four of us were troopers all summer long.

Funny story about Mathias:

He would ask the same three questions to every single person, every single hike. 

-What was your favorite day in high school?

-Tell me about your "community"--by which he meant friends, family, etc

-What is your favorite movie?

While these questions annoyed me to no end, Mathias also knew that if he brought exceptional snacks for the hike, I would still come. (I'm talking like...Farmer's Market plums, goat cheese, sausage and once he even bought like a Bunsen burner type thing so he could grill for us. On a rock. In a stream. By a waterfall.)

Funny story about Kelsey:

Kelsey and I were both from the Midwest, and began calling all other women on the trail "Northwest Women." They were intense. They would run up these mountains, while Kelsey and I were huffing and puffing and breathing up a storm. Sometimes they even ran with babies on their back. We were convinced they were an entirely different breed.

But now the real excuse for this post: I just want to show off some pictures!!! =)

(Video of the view from the top. Please excuse the moment where I'm a 

total dufus and decide to start taping sideways.)

Mt. Rainier
This one is deserving of a post in itself. We showed up completed unprepared. Read: leggings, tennis shoes and shorts. The ranger thought we were crazy, but we decided that we had driven for too long to not play around on America's tallest mountain. We slipped and fell and ran around the snow like small children, had a group of 'serious' mountain hikers ask us if we were lost and OK, until eventually we were so exhausted that we spread out a tarp and took a nap. On Mt. Rainier. It was the only time I got tan all summer (go figure) and I have to admit that it continues to be one of the best days of my life, ever. Until Mathias told us we needed to leave him in the forest so he could 'be with God' (AKA get over a girl) and that he had a tarp, can of tuna, and a knife. We did. He survived.

Midwest kids finally feeling at home--SNOW!

Lost, again. In shorts and tennis shoes on America's tallest mountain. We are by no means the smartest cookies.

The view from our nap spot.

The best nap I've ever taken.
(And I've taken quite a few)

People who actually knew what they were doing.

If you want to read more about my time in Seattle, check out 'Sentimental Seattle.' And for stories of the adventures that got me there, check out this post about my road trip =) 

Addendum to the 5 Assholes You'll Date in College

The following are a few addendums to my post "The 5 Assholes You'll Date in College." 

Addendum A: The Alpha Male Looks Like This

I was supposed to read for my alumnae book club last night. I even went to the bookstore and everything so I could focus. But then, I saw the Total Frat Move book. And I just couldn't help myself. And while part of me shuddered at the bad publicity that will come for the Greek System from this atrocious novel...the other parts of me couldn't help laughing. Especially when I found this page.

Cheers, pledge master, for making my last semester so hysterical with your stupid stories. I hope that you're installing the same type of fear into all the opposition soldiers you're off fighting, somewhere. Because as you said..."I'm a soldier, disguised as a nerd, disguised as a frat boy. I'm a fucking badass"

Appendix B: This is why we don't listen to Adele

Under Asshole #3: The Heartbreaker, I encouraged you not to listen to Adele. A friend sent me this video shortly after reading it and I have to agree--this is why we don't listen to Adele at times like that! (However...Adele is also a big role model during times of break up. She took her break up and turned it into 11 Grammies. She gave one big middle finger to her ex, an example to girls everywhere. So, maybe I should say that if you're going to listen to Adele after a break up, listen to her Grammy acceptance speech and not her album.) No I mean really, look, she just gave a big middle finger. And snapped.

I imagine her saying at this moment in her head: "I'm the only one who can make flipping someone off look classy and like an action others should aspire to. Snaps to me."

Anyways, this video is why we don't listen to Adele and is sure to brighten your Saturday =)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11RZIDNN4pk
(Guys, I'm struggle bussing with this link. Click it for SNL's funny skit on Someone Like You with Emma Stone! Yes!)

Now this is the Adele you should get to know and love:

Sassy bitch knows what she got. 

Adele, as I say over and over, you're my top betch. You know who I'd like to see in a room together? Me, Adele and Khloe Kardashian. 

Hot Mess: The Ombre Life

Well kids, it's that time again. Time for another rousing edition of Autumn's Unreal Life where you both laugh and cringe because you're not quite sure whether to be best friends with her or pity her. It's also that time where I stop referring to myself in the third person.

So for about a week now, I've been seeing those ads for ombre hair dye. I always wanted ombre hair, but was too broke chicken to go get it done at an actual salon. Plus, why pay $80 for something you can pay $8 for (don't answer that--there are many, many reasons)?! All day at work, I was looking forward to my after-work Target shopping spree. I had been saving my Christmas gift cards for a worthy occasion, and the occasion had come. Finally, went my cart was overflowing and I found myself questioning if it would be possible for me to push TWO carts at once, I decided it was time to go. But not without the final purchase: ombre hair dye. Dun dun dun!

Here I am in step one, remaining skeptical but hopeful that this will not make my hair turn hideous and result in having to chop inches and inches off:

Here I am in step two, beginning to seriously doubt that this dye is doing anything rather than releasing toxic fumes:

So, after leaving it on for the maximum amount of time (45 minutes), I took it out, washed it with the enclosed "special" conditioner (which smelled disgusting), wrapped it soaking wet in a bun and went to bed. In the morning, I woke up and it still smelled DISGUSTING so of course I showered, wrapped it soaking wet in a bun and made a bee-line for my car lest it freeze into icicles and break off (has anyone ever actually had that happen?).

I get to work and start telling people how much it did not work, until one very wise coworker goes "But Autumn, have you even seen it dry yet?" Uhhhhhh...cue awkwardness.

Who sits at their cubicle waiting for their hair to dye so they can see how it actually turned out? This girl. Sad to report, it doesn't look different at all. Maybe one shade lighter, tops. Apparently I can put straight up bleach on my hair for 45 minutes and only go down one shade...leading me to believe that I have SUPER NINJA HAIR.

Alright, I'm off to enjoy my ADULT SNOW DAY!!! YAY!!! Gonna cook me some spaghetti, grab a good book and relax! Hope you're all having a wonderful day!

Only the second documented snow in Missourah this winter!

Sentimental Seattle

It's true, the Bachelor made me sentimental this week. I could barely focus on Sean catching the fish because I was too busy jumping up and down on the couch screaming "I've done that! I've done that!" And, since Wednesdays are allowed to be completely random, I've decided to reminisce about my time in Seattle. Sometimes I forget how lucky I've been in life and how many cool things I've actually gotten to experience so far. I get so busy harping on myself for the future, I forget to congratulate myself for the past.

 




So, without further ado: Seattle Favorites. 

Favorite people in Seattle: The housemates I found on Craig's List two days before driving across America by myself.

Instant kindred spirits who supported my constant desire to see how long I could go without grocery shopping by always making heaping pots of food, showering me with love and pissing me off by playing fooseball 24/7.

Elliott - who never thought it was weird that I wanted to climb into hobo tents we found on the beach, and made sure I never sat in my room alone in a strange city for one day. Though he promised he'd show me seals...and he still hasn't.

Favorite weekend trip: traveling up the coast to Ruby Beach

Camping at Ruby Beach. I saw a small child climbing the rock in the right and kept demanding "Where is your mother?!?!"

 Favorite view: From the top of Rattlesnake Ridge

 Favorite spot downtown: Pike's Place Market (but then again, who doesn't love this spot??)
I can still smell the gyros, pastries and flowers now. I love the crowds, the happiness of everyone and the mad chaos.

Favorite street performer: this guy. At one point he balanced the guitar on his chin while playing AND hula hooping!

Favorite place to tan: Mt. Rainier
First of all, I didn't see Mt. Rainier on the horizon for nearly a month. And then out of nowhere I saw it. I went into work and was like "guys, what is that huge white thing?!?" Either way, a few of my fellow interns and I decided to go on a day hike there (a blog post in itself). We were completely unprepared (read: I was in leggings and tennis shoes and the boys were in shorts), but we were determined to play around on a mountain we could only see once. We were Midwest kids finally in our comfort zone: snow. We spread out a tarp, took a nap, and for the first time all summer...woke up tan.

 Favorite fireworks: over Puget Sound.

 Favorite random friends: my coworkers. My friends tell me I have a knack for meeting the oddest people, and suddenly forming friendships. These women, immigrants from Columbia, were no different. We quickly became friends and they taught me all about boudoir photos, hula-ing, immigration problems and Colombian pregnancy myths. I was there when the one in the middle renewed her vows (she had originally threatened her boyfriend that if he didn't propose she would get deported, and always felt guilty for not having a big celebration), dancing the night away on a harbor with a pink sky and mountains in the background. Oh and I won $8 from the lottery ticket she put at all the center pieces because they were "lucky in love." First time I've ever won money from the lotto!

Of course, I could go on and on about my favorite places: parks, restaurants  coffee shops, dive bars, grocery stores where creepy 40 years old men hit on you, and restaurants specializing only in buffalo but...gotta save something for a rainy day ;) Thanks for reading! Where are some of your favorite places?

Random Wednesdays--what's your random?

Teaching a Bachelor to Cook

Meet Michael. Or as I like to call him when I'm feeling especially frisky fine, Miguel. Miguel is....a bachelor. *Cue horror music*

I believe that the final pre-cursor to most men settling down and getting hitched is that they simply cannot stand living in a bachelor pad anymore. When Michael first visited my apartment, he walked around touching everything really gently like it was a museum or a showroom.

"You have pillows on your couch," he said.

"Yeah, throw pillows."

"Pillows just for decoration."

He was in wonder. I was like Michael...you too can have throw pillows. They will cost you $8 at WalMart. You too can have a couch that looks classy and comfy and inviting. But for some reason, men just can't pull it together like that. They will wear out their clothes until buttons are hanging on by threads ("You can fix that?!?!" he said in shock), there is nothing but beer in the cupboard, and their furniture is really just smaller pieces of furniture precariously stacked upon each other (i.e. Michael's "desk" is actually a piece of plywood stacked on top of an old TV and a filing cabinet).

So. The time came where I was like listen, Michael, I'm not ready to get married, but I can give you the next best thing. Let me teach you how to use a CROCK POT.

It seemed to me like the crock pot would be every bachelor's dream. Set it, and leave it. Come back from work...boom. Instant homemade meal. And the options are endless. It's so easy. So I sent Michael some links for simple, 3-ingredient crock pot recipes. 

Well, Michael was A) scared the crock pot would burn his apartment down if he left it on while he was gone, so naturally he B) cooked everything only at night (which defeats the purpose of having dinner ready) but then he got C) scared the crock pot would burn his kitchen down so he D) moved his bed so he could sleep outside the kitchen and watch it until he E) gave up.

I'm proud to say we overcame this hurdle and he now trusts the crock pot will not burn his apartment down. 

Then came TEACHING MICHAEL TO USE RECIPES. I sent him a 3-ingredient recipe for stroganoff. Beef, stroganoff mix, and mushrooms. Boom. Done.

"I can't find the stroganoff mix."

"It's in the spice aisle right next to all the other mixes. Like taco mix and chili mix and stuff."

"Where is that?"

"Ask an employee." (Michael, for as lovely as he is, seems to have this idea in his head that a map of any grocery store anywhere in America--keep in mind we live a good 700 miles apart--is tattooed on my ovaries)

So that night we're Skyping and I say, Michael, how is the recipe going? He gets all shame-faced and admits that he couldn't find the stroganoff mix, so he bought some other things. But he thinks it will be really good. Michael's 3-ingredient recipe: Beef, tomato soup, and some sort of meltable cheese. He calls it "Saucy beef." I call it GAG ME. 

Still, we recovered. He did good. Stuck to 2-ingredient recipes. Chicken and cheese. Can't go wrong. But then he got adventurous. 

"I'm super excited for my next crock pot meal."

"What is it?"

"I'm experimenting," he said. 

Oh sweet baby Jesus no. "Oh that's great! What did you put in it?"

"Cream of shrimp, green peppers, beef broth, and some chicken."

First of all, what is cream of shrimp and what do people even use that for?!?! Second, why would you ever combine liquid forms of both SHRIMP and BEEF??? Your crock pot is not Red Lobster or Outback. Stop.

Anyways, ladies, point being: Michael is still a bachelor and sometimes he does manage to feed himself.

"Give a man a fish, and he'll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he'll eat for a lifetime."

"Give a bachelor a crock pot, and he'll stare at it in suspicion for a day. Teach him to use it, he'll still go to Taco Bell."

Addendum: Michael is a very nice boy, and he does many, many nice things. Including letting me mock him publicly about his crock-pot issues. However, don't let his crock pot shame be for nothing! Click the follow button =)