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Enter Witty and Poignant Title Here

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I have two bags I use on a regular basis – my ALLSAINTS tote and my Dagne Dover backpack. I keep them in the dining room so it's easy to switch between them. The rest are upstairs in my closet, I bring them down and fill them from the bag in the dining room and put everything back in it after it's used. This is a system that works for me. We were off to do a shoot in a neighboring town so I put my purse essentials in the bag for the shoot. I remember the wallet in this bag, specifically putting it in the bag in case we went to lunch afterwards (we didn't, we went home like frugal responsible boring adults). I remember seeing the wallet in this bag when I unclipped the shoulder strap and tucked it in to photograph the bag as a handbag. I remember the bag empty, on my bed after the shoot. I remember I opened it, all that was in was the shoulder strap which I reattached to hang it in the closet.

The next morning I couldn't find the wallet. I was in a rush, running late to the gym. I'd rather not speed especially without a wallet, so I went without my wallet to work out, crossed my fingers and maintained the MPH. Came home, looked in my three purses, no wallet. Took Emerson to school. Came back, looked more carefully, no wallet. Searched the bedroom, the office, the living room. I tried to think, could Emerson have moved it somewhere? Karl think it's a toy and threw it in the toy box? Did it get caught up in folded laundry and go in a drawer? Did it somehow fall out the bag from the shoot and was it in the car? It's a big wallet, but I checked my coat pockets, even of coats I didn't wear that weekend. Maybe my memory was wrong and I didn't have it in the bag for the photo shoot. I last used it at Starbucks the day prior, did I leave it at Starbucks? I ask my mom and Emerson who were there with me. Emerson says she remembers putting it back in my backpack. I knew the cashier, Chris would notice if I didn't put back my wallet, he'd notify me immediately. Where the hell is my wallet?

I was so busy Monday. I had two draft blog posts due to brands. I had three phone calls, and no content written for the remainder of the week. My right eye was being weird, I swear it was half the size it used to be… or was it that Botox opened my left eye to twice the other eye's size. I bumped into an old friend as I was running errands. We hugged and she asked what was wrong with my eye. What the hell is going on with my eye?

Let's not even discuss what's going on with my ass. Okay, I've never been one to shy from discussing TMI subjects. I've had hemorrhoids off and on since having Emerson. However, since working out regularly they have come back and never left. And they seem to only get worse, no matter what I do for diet and medication and care. Oh, and I have PMS. So I have an ass on fire, one shrinking eye, an incredibly short temper and have been on the verge of tears for a couple days, and my wallet is missing.

Let's focus on what needs to be done immediately. Finish the Botox post that was started the week prior (and prior to my right eye shrinking which has me wonder if I should even post it). Finish the sponsored posts and send them for approval. Take the calls (and a few Advil for my ass). Pick up Emerson from school, work on homework, get dinner started, eat dinner, finish homework, put her to bed. Keep checking apps on my phone between it all to be sure no one has used my credit cards.

9pm, I need to find this damn wallet. If I can't find it tonight tomorrow will be spent cancelling my life and I don't have time for that. I again start in the dining room, search every inch of the main floor. Go upstairs, scour the office. Go in the bedroom. I literally get on my hands and knees and search every inch of the room. I'm now in tears, my head is spinning, I feel dizzy and as though I may have a panic attack. I'm on the floor of my closet surrounded by things that should be on shelves and hangers. I get into child's pose, close my eyes and start repeating over and over in my head, “Please help me find my wallet. Please help me find my wallet.” I repeat it so fast and so often it becomes white noise. And then silence, and in my head I see the wallet. I get out of my closet, go to my nightstand, and pull my wallet out of a brown paper gift bag. The one Ruth Barzel gave me that held the jewelry for the second shoot of the day. The one that held the jewelry until I picked a giveaway winner and mailed them to her. It was 10:45pm and I could finally rest.

The next morning I went to the gym for the last time for almost a week since my trainer was taking a much-deserved vacation. Came home, took the quickest shower ever, took Emerson to school and then went to the butt doctor. Okay, this guy is a general surgeon, but recommended by my GP for handling hemorrhoids. He was running late, I spent over an hour in his waiting room sitting on only one butt cheek because my ass was on fire. But it gave me time to do my makeup. Damnit, left my brow color at home.

The doctor was exactly the kind you want when you need to spread your cheeks to a stranger. Friendly, not too chummy, professional but not sterile, warm dry and firm handshake. He took a look and informed me that I had a thrombosis. The nurse cut a hole in the middle of a sterile sheet, I dropped trou and laid on my stomach. She covered my ass with the sheet and held my cheeks open while the doctor lanced my ass and pulled out a blood clot the size of my thumbnail. He then packed my crack with a ton of gauze, taped it in place, told me to take a break from working out for about a week (talk about perfect timing) and the nurse gave me three Advil and educated me on how to care for my wonky ass.

I went home and realized I got my period. Awesome, now I have blood coming from two places and I was wearing my favorite underwear. Quick change, and I called an Uber. I planned on driving but with the situation going on, I couldn't see myself sitting upright and dealing with DC traffic. Next stop, the plastic surgeon.

I pretty much was horizontal the entire ride, where I answered about 50 emails and took a phone call (a blogger's work is never done). I was excited to go to the surgeon, I figured a little bit of Botox near the small eye and in a week I'd be even. This doctor was also running late, I spent 45 minutes in his gorgeous waiting room slumped in a chair trying not to have any pressure on my throbbing ass. I felt sticky and clammy and downright miserable. I figured I could use this time to get some work done but realized I brought my laptop but no power cord and it was dead, and my phone was at 27% with no cord to connect to my battery and I needed it working to call an Uber to go home. I read three magazines and wanted to die.

IMG 1624
“Hey Mommy I made you! It has overalls and big earrings and stripes and a funny eye just like you!”

The doctor said no, my eye couldn't be fixed with a bit more Botox. I had a ptosis, and if I looked at my before photos, I had it all my life. It just wasn't as visible because my brows and lids had drooped with time and gravity. Botox just made it more pronounced. When the Botox wore off, I could get a minor procedure where they snip my eyelid, tie up a tendon, and I am good as new. Oh awesome, maybe I'll schedule my eyelid surgery for the same day as my hemorrhoid surgery. I was so upset and in such discomfort and I thought my tampon was leaking that I didn't ask a lot of questions. I said thank you and rolled out. I cried in the Uber. How can I be a fashion blogger with a fucked up face? Here's me looking so happy and confident, don't you want to buy this sweater from a woman with a tiny eye? Karl said I looked like Forest Whittaker, my daughter told me I looked like Popeye. #GOALZ amirite?

I get home, and the clothes for the next day's post finally arrived. I wash my tear-stained face, hit the Visine, and try on the clothes. The shoot must go on. Except none of the clothes fit. Due to some confusion, the clothes took a month to arrive and now they're all too big and there's no way to make them look good. Fuck. I try on all the clothes I have from this brand, and all of them are too big. Fuck. How can I promote this brand that I love properly when the only item in my closet from the brand that currently fits is an old striped tee? Do they even have that tee on their website any more? They do. Oh thank goodness, they do. Let's Tim Gunn this thing.

Karl and I go to the lake near our house. People are flying kites, walking their dogs, running and laughing. I still want to cry, but we make it work. He makes me laugh, he shoots me in profile to hide my weird eye, shoots with my sunglasses. He offers to take care of Emerson, put her to bed. I work on the blog post and various other blog stuff until 11pm and then take a Bonnaroo Shower (definition: that amazing hot first shower after a music festival where you slough off all the Tennessee dirt and layers of sunscreen and sweat and slowly acclimate to real life). Yep, I cried in that shower. No gym the next day, so I slept in until 7:00am.

And the next day I saw things in a different light.

I am so lucky that I didn't really lose my wallet. And to think of where it was, in a bag of beautiful jewelry I had the honor to borrow and now give to one of my readers who helped me achieve my dream of quitting my day job.

I have dealt with a pain in my ass (literally) for three months. This doctor even was shocked I went so long with such an issue. “Young lady (I told you he's a great doctor), you must have a very high tolerance for pain. I am impressed.” I still have some hemorrhoids that will have to be taken care of with surgery but it's not a rush issue. For now, I am comfortable. And I haven't been comfortable since before Christmas.

My eye situation isn't permanent, and it was free (I got it for being an influencer and we were seeing a long-term relationship). This Botox keeps on giving with the introspection.

Brands find me valuable enough to send me free clothes and partner for giveaways and sponsored posts. I write crazy posts like this about my ass and they still want to partner. I feel good about this business I have built, that I am able to stay true to who I am and still find success.

I am married to an awesome guy who may joke about me being Forest Whitaker but lets me cry it out, finds my best angles for photo shoots, and sees us as a team.

And I have you, who read and click and share and comment and engage and make me excited to write more content, even when my ass is on fire and I have a wonky eye and can't even keep track of my wallet. Thank you for supporting me. It was so cool to host all those giveaways with great brands and be able to give you super cool prizes. This blog is nothing without you, and I feel gratitude every day. And every day I get better at this full time blogging thing, and with my body getting on the mend, I'll be even more in this game. So yeah, I have crappy days, but oh so much to be grateful for!

A woman with curly hair wearing a plaid blazer holds a green fur coat over her shoulder on a city street.

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  1. Allie, you are freaking fantastic. I’ve followed your blog since ’05 (we were pregnant at the same time and I loved that someone else understood the trials of second day curly hair). Wow, how this blog had grown! I love that you don’t let anything hold you back, that despite the hardships you always pick yourself up and get back at it, because, really, what other choice do we have? Wishing you all the best and looking forward to the next adventure.

  2. I’m sorry you had those experiences, but I have to tell you, I was having a terrible day as well and needed the laugh! Thanks for this. Also, eff Andi.

  3. You may have a lot of comments congratulating you for this but I think there’s more of us who are horrified you wrote about this. Are you trying to go viral? This is not a cute look.

    1. Hey Andi, long time no see.

      There are millions of blogs out there. If this one doesn’t appeal to you, and it sure seems like it from your comment history, you can find another one that does. You deserve to be happy, and if my blog doesn’t make you happy, you shouldn’t visit. Take care of yourself.

  4. Just had to write to echo what everyone else has said here . . . thank you so much for your honesty and your humor; this blog and most especially, your writing and your voice, are *fantastic*! You are a rockstar BADASS (in the positive sense, I promise I mean!) and at the same time someone I wish I could hang out with in real life because I feel like we would be great friends. (Here in SF and also addicted to great music and travel and girlfriend weekends — 40-something; closer to 50). I will have to settle for these great reads and your music and travel and coffee/food posts on top of all the great clothing and body-positive advice. Sending love to you and your whole kickass family. . . .

  5. AND you made it through !
    DAMN what a hell of a day, I feel you and admire you for staying strong and focused. We are only human.

  6. Oh my, this is why I keep coming back to your blog every damn day! You are so real and honest. I love that. I don’t have the exact same issues, but aren’t we all in the same boat?! Thank you for your humor and your positive outlook on life. It is what I needed today!

  7. This sounds like an utterly wretched and brutal day — way to go for writing about it with wit, liveliness, and gallows humour.

  8. Young lady, you are so badass!

    I love it when you get real. I was going to say something when you posted about the Botox, but hey, botox is elective, hemorroids aren’t.

  9. Dear Allie
    I am sending you my best wishes from Australia – you have brightened many days voer a few years now and I so appreciate your honesty and courage. I love that you are carving out your own destiny following your passions. These funny disconnected days when everything is out of kilter seems to happen from time to time. Wishing you well and good health to continue your marvellous blog!

  10. Oh, what a terrible couple of days. I am so glad your sense of humor and your support network of Karl and Emerson helped you get through it. I love your honesty and your writing–and your fashion sense and joie de vivre as well. You got through it, you can get through whatever gets thrown your way next but I hope you can catch a break and enjoy yourself before the next squall!

  11. These kinds of days are the worst! I’m glad you were able to see the good in things eventually. You’re a delight, wonky eye or no. And I’m v glad your ass is on the mend. 🙂

  12. Thanks for relaying a day (or two ) in the life of a real life person, not someone who gets nice things in the mail and spins luxury life narratives to go along with it. Anyone can go have coffee, brunch, photograph fancy foods and nice locations and not share their real life, and make a good living doing it, but as long as you’re keeping it real, you’re going to keep the readers – and as hectic as it sounds, we can all relate. 🙂 So glad you found your wallet — and do keep us updated on your botox!

  13. Very Funny! “So I have an ass on fire, one shrinking eye, an incredibly short temper and have been on the verge of tears for a couple days, and my wallet is missing.”
    I’ve noticed you have a knack for humour writing.
    I have right side ptosis, plus an enlarged pupil.

    1. It’s funny how now I know I have this, I’m realizing how many others do, and how rare it is when I or others even notice. It did help me improve my bang-drying technique (notice the hair not the eyes LOL).

  14. Wow, what a rollercoaster. I had a hemmorhoid treated. Not going to lie, the anesthesia was painful, but when it healed–such relief. So you have that to look forward to (?!!) And please do post about your Botox experience, eye and all–I haven’t used it, so I’m curious to hear a candid acount.

    1. I will be sure to write a recap. I did receive the Botox for free and have a call scheduled with the office to let them know I plan to be honest but I don’t want to throw them under a bus since I got it free. Hope to have it up next week!

  15. Oh Allie,

    I am so sympathetic of all your troubles. I can relate. However, you are so funny I couldn’t help but laugh. If you ever get tired of fashion, I think you have a shot as a comedy writer for TV or as a stand-up comedian.

  16. I just want to hug you. Sincerely, bless your heart!
    What a beautiful example you are setting for Emerson. By the end of your day, you turned all of your frowns upside down (as my old scout leader would say) and found gratitude.
    I hope this week is much better! xo

  17. This was an amazing, heartfelt post and I loved it so much! Thank you for being such a genuine person and sharing with us. I’ve also been living in “interesting” times and it helps to know I’m not alone. Many hugs and much love to you—it’s these posts that keep me reading.

  18. You have a great eye for fashion. You merchandise yourself and the goods so smoothly. But this post displays your fantastic writing skills that touch the hearts and funny bone of us lucky followers. Oh man, have I wished for death sitting in doctor’s offices. And I have wanted to kill chicken and throw it into the volcano at midnight if it would only make my lost bracelet or insurance form thingee, or even my lost wallet reappear. Girlfirend—your period started?!—AAUUUGGHHH! Thank you! Thank you for sharing TMI with us. (I have hemorrhoids that flare from time to time too.)

  19. Clearly we all appreciated this post. You’re one of those people who has a life that is both so different than mine and yet so similar. You feel like a friend. Your blog has really taken a good turn since you made it your full time job–thank you for sharing your life!

    1. Oh–it’s taken a good turn when I see so many taking a less positive turn with the advent of it becoming a full time job. Good work!!!

  20. Oh my goodness. These “real life” posts are the best. Because they’re not fluff or sugar coated. They’re REAL. Hope your ass is better. Rock those clout glasses (isn’t that what the teenagers call them?) and keep kicking ass.

  21. You wrote this for me. I’m on the couch with a hpt pad draped over my arm and constipated from all my pain meds andd it still hurts. I know you’ve been through the whole badly broken arm in the past. On vacation in Mexico I fell a flight of stairs slamming into the stone landing. I smashed my right arm, but didn’t break my leg, hip, pelvis, or neck.
    Like you, so much to be grateful for, including my very supportive husband. But man the arm hurts like hell. I’ve got a plate and seven screws a d a bo e graft and some wrist fx not spotted til days later.
    How did you keep your spirit up during your very long recovery?

    1. Patricia,

      I feel for you poor folks with your broken arms! A few years back I was in a motorcycle accident where a car ran into me and broke my femur (thigh bone). I think you broken arm people have it a lot worse. With me, a large rod inside my bone, and as promised, I started getting some relief almost immediately after surgery. Yeah it hurt, but it healed fairly quickly. And I could function fairly well with crutches. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to not be able to use your arm.

    2. Patricia, I broke my arm (well, a car ran into me and broke my arm/elbow) about the same time Allie broke hers. I now have a prosthetic radius (no graft, but one surgery to pin it all together and then a second, 9 months later after it all failed, to take out the bones and pins and put in a prosthetic). Why am I telling you this? Just to sympathise. It was awful–the two surgeries were so painful, but the pain pills meant I couldn’t poop, so I got off them and just hurt, and then I had, for the first time ever, a bout of depression (like, couldn’t get out of bed or wash or eat and cried so hard I vomitted). It took a while, but it got better. What helped? I discovered podcasts (this was 2014 🙂 ). And I could still walk. So I’d walk and cry and listen to podcasts. Guess what? I’m OK now. I can even swim and do yoga (except arm balances but I wasn’t great at those before lol).
      My very best wishes to you that you have a smooth recovery and lots of support and someone to make you food/take you for a pedicure/etc. What helped me is that after wallowing and realizing something had to change, I made a list of things that I liked and could still do. I love hiking and running and biking and swimming–so of those, I hiked (with care, and just walked carefully in the early days). I watched the Office (all of the seasons)(love to read, but I just…couldn’t pay attention). Pam and Jim helped. I worked on my left-hand skills. Those months/that year are still a blur. My heart goes out to you (heart emoji here).

    3. Oh Patricia, I feel you, literally! The first break, I didn’t handle it well. On pain meds that messed with my mind and my bowels, I lay on the couch feeling sorry for myself. On top of it, I was being written about on a message board that criticizes bloggers and they were not kind. I scrolled through hourly, making me feel even worse. I got through, and then the arm broke again. I was so devastated, but I forced myself to see that it was Life, or God, or something giving me a second chance to deal with the situation. I did a lot of self care and pampering. Fun reads on my Kindle, face masks, pedicures, and once I was up for it, daily walks. I started just to the end of my court and back and then got to where I was walking about a mile each day. I also listened to a lot of motivating audiobooks on these walks – Brene Brown really helped me then, but I’ve also enjoyed Gabrielle Bernstein when I’ve felt low. And the occasional fresh flowers. Such a random and indulgent thing but seeing tulips or hydrangea or even alstroemeria made me feel cared for, even though it was me caring for me. And water. Drink a ton of water. Add cucumbers or lemon or orange or anything and put it in a fancy glass, but good hydration helps everything from the gut to the metal outlook. Sending strength and love to you!

  22. Dear Allie, thank you so much for being honest and real with us! I was scrolling through my feedly, not really feeling all of the perfectionist blogs – but yours I just had to read, and read all the way through. Although I almost never comment, I just had to leave a message here – even though so many others have already done so.
    Keep on just like you do, your readers love you for that! And please, take some time for yourself after all this! I hope it’ll all work out. Greetings from Germany, Isi

  23. Hi Allie, I did slightly notice the wonky eye in one of your photos, but only because I am so aware of having the same thing myself. I see it in every photo. I think it may be because in my 20s I had very minor surgery to remove a dangling skin tag above my eye. I remember the surgeon saying it was a procedure that is done as plastic surgery. So I think as I got older, one lid may have sagged more than another. Anyway, the point is, I became rather self conscious about it. And I asked a friend. And she stared and stated and eventually said, yes she supposed there was a slight difference. But the point is that what seems terrible to you is almost unnoticeable to others. It may show a little in your photos – to the very aware – but in real life (which si what counts) you are animated and moving and NOBODY NOTICES. They will notice the life in your face, how well you look, your new jewellery or whatever. We are all imperfect (and of course become more imperfect as we age) but it isn’t a big thing to others. Your piles sound horrid, I suspect that and a changing lifestyle are why you feel so stressed out about things that, as you say, aren’t that big a deal. Time, I would prescribe, for some rest and self-care. You do sound fortunate to have people around you who want to care for you, if you just give yourself a chance to enjoy it. Wishing you all the very best.

  24. Just wow! Thanks for sharing AND always keeping it real. BTW, love Emerson’s Bitmoji.


  25. Oh Allie! Sending you a massive virtual hug from the bottom of the South Pacific! Arohanui to you.

    Thank you for keeping it real with us. I often sit and wonder at the “perfect” lives some bloggers seem to live so this account is really nice to read. You’re just like me 🙂

  26. You are a wonderful person and a talented writer. I read your blog because of posts like that. Hope you feel better by now.

  27. I’m sorry, but I’m laughing SO HARD! I though sh!t like this only happened to me. You’re the best 🙂

  28. This is life, real life – and it is so refreshing to have this actually talked about somewhere! I laughed at your misfortunes and can relate to so much of this – the ass pain (I was a hot mess in that department during and after my twin pregnancy), the losing of the wallet, the period issues…..thank you for keeping it real, and really funny all at the same time. Things have to look up from here, right?

    1. But I am! I was struggling to write content, and it’s hard to look happy in heels when your ass is on fire! And no PTO to take a day off and actually recuperate. Though I was so grateful for a truly flexible schedule, I could write lying on my stomach at 11pm 🙂

  29. Thanks for sharing your real life & problems. I laughed out loud at your ‘wonky’ eye & your hot ass issues. And so happy that it’s all getting better along with finding your wallet. Reminds me of the best conversations I’ve had with my sister & girlfriends. Thanks again!

  30. Great post. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another”, said the brilliant Gilda Radner (Roseanna Danna)

  31. I read you for shit like this. The universal saga of womanhood- complete with a wonky eye and pain in the ass. I’d rather read this and feel less alone in the world than almost anything else. Thanks for sharing!

  32. Great story-telling! I laughed, I cried, and sighed with relief when you found the wallet. Glad the pain from hemorrhoid is no longer with you, I bet tbat has been way a huge distraction! I put up with my rectocele causing all

  33. Wow, like a really good novel, I laughed, I cried and then I smiled in the end. You’ve had a really rough week to say the least! But, in the end, everything worked itself out. I love reading your posts ’cause you write exactly the way you talk. You had me hanging on every word as you worked through your issues. I’m just glad to know that someone else had butt problems, that you found your wallet and that your eye issue, that I don’t see at all, is only temporary and can be fixed. Stay strong and keep us apprised. I’m rooting for you.

  34. I so love your ability to share your life with so much humor! I hope things go smoothly this week as it sounds like you use a breather. Love your blog and have for years. Keep on keepin’ it real!!

  35. Allie,
    Thank you and God Bless you for being a real person who empowers the lives of others by sharing her real life. As one of your older followers, and a former journalist who reads a fair number of blogs, I so admire and find refreshing your willingness to share your sometimes less than perfect life. So few let we readers see ‘behind the scenes.’ Thus, it can be disheartening to try to achieve that ‘perfect look or life.’ The world needs more influencers who also share their ‘real’ life which may sometimes include warts. Keep up the excellent work and don’t underestimate what you bring to the table!

  36. This was some amazing writing, and what blogging used to be and always should be! Honest, fun, funny, interesting, a glimpse into the scenes, (and yeah, also promoting some awesome clothes that make me want to click and buy.). Thank you for sharing.

  37. I was having a rough day that was starting to feel like Alexander’s too, but reading this helped me keep things in perspective. Thanks for sharing – I love the humor and honesty along with great advice on things to buy.

  38. Oh my. I had to dry my eyes before typing. You made me cry and laugh and I absolutely adore the way you put your life into words.
    Concerning exercise and hemorrhoids: When I was in nursing school, years ago, my very old school instructor advised us to put on our “internal girdle” prior to lifting patients or heavy equipment. Even then girdles were a thing of the past and we all giggled at her words but I never forgot that term and use it still – when lifting weights, trying to go further in my aerobic routine or lifting my Aussie into the tub at bath time. Deep breath in, tighten abdominals including rectal muscles then breathe out upon exertion. I’m sure your trainer will have a more modern description of what I just described. :).

  39. Oh my goodness, you’ve had a rough go of it lately! I’m really happy you got relief for your physical/medical issues & hope you’ll continue to heal & feel better. And thank goodness your wallet was in your house & nothing was stolen! It’s a pain in the rear (no pun intended!) to deal with all those issues of canceling & replacing cards, drivers license, etc. I truly hope this week will be much, much better! Thank you for keeping it real with us.

  40. Wow. Just —– wow. You are one amazing, funny, honest, dynamic, creative woman. I hope you have a few totally uneventful and easy days to help make up for all this, my dear.

  41. Ohh, I’m so sorry to hear about your rear end problems…. I can’t believe they had to solve it with a sharp instrument! Yikes! That sounds terrifying. Feel better soon!

  42. Wow, like a really good novel, I laughed, I cried and then I smiled in the end. You’ve had a really rough week to say the least! But, in the end, everything worked itself out. I love reading your posts ’cause you write exactly the way you talk. You had me hanging on every word as you worked through your issues. I’m just glad to know that someone else had butt problems, that you found your wallet and that your eye issue is only temporary and can be fixed. Stay strong and keep us apprised. I’m rooting for you.

  43. Love that you are normal just like me! Really glad to know I’m not the only one s_it happens to. Then we put it all in perspective and go on. Every. Day. 🙂

  44. Thank you so much for sharing the bad with the food. I love your honesty and forthrightness as much as your great style and it’s why youat has been my favorite blog for several years. Thanks for all the great work you do.

  45. Seriously, reading this post is like sitting with a best friend and sharing the good, the bad, and the ugly with her. I would hug her when we parted, and promise to be there for her. I am sending you a virtual hug, and a promise to keep coming back.

  46. Oh, you did have a couple of very bad, black moments didn’t you? I’m glad you’ve got a handle on things now even though not all is perfect. Yet. 🙂

  47. I’ve said it before, but it’s your incredible honesty – and your ability to laugh and cry all at once – that keeps me reading your blog.

    1. Luckily it’s fading, but it was pretty bad for a few weeks. I did a lot of disguising it with sunglasses and profile shots but thank goodness it’s improving!

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