My boyfriend and I went shooting today. First we shot at 25 yards and I did pretty well. Then we shot at 100 yards. We walked up to our targets to see how well we did. I didn’t hit the target. At. All.
Basically, I’m blind.
Hello all! As you know I announced that there will be some big changes to the blog come the new year, one of which is changing the name. This has been a change that I have thought about a lot. Once I figured out the new name I knew I was making the right decision and I am really excited. So with that being said, come 2016 Tragic Girls will be changing to…
The blog will be changing to the.B.Law! When I thought of this name I liked it, but still wasn’t sure. Then as I kept thinking about it, the more I fell in love with it. It is kind of a play on words and has a few different meanings, one- obviously it represents my name, two- this was my high school nick name (I was on varsity dance and we had three Brittanys so my name turned into B-Law), and three- I like that it sounds like what I am saying is my law (haha).
Changing the name from Tragic Girls is bitter sweet. Tragic Girls is what got me started and it holds a lot of meaning and memories, especially of my roomie and I. I am excited though for the change and what the new name, the.B.Law means. They reason I am making the change is because I have come to a point where the name Tragic Girls itself I feel is restricting me. I know it is my blog and I can write about whatever I want, but I want my name to reflect what my blog is about, or at least be broad enough to cover whatever. Tragic Girls was fun and I will always be tragic, but I want to write about more. I have already ventured into style however, with the name Tragic Girls, if you didn’t read the blog already it may seem like I am writing about tragic fashion which I am NOT! I want a name where any topic is possible. Trust me I have tried to break out of this confinement and convince myself otherwise but it hasn’t worked, the block is in my head. Tragic Girls will always be a part of me and you can bet if something tragic happens I will still post it (tragicness is inevitable in my life), and as long as I can figure out how to do it, I want to keep tragic girls as a page on my blog. I will have to research and mess around to figure out if that is even possible.
The other change to my blog will be the look. I have been trying to hint with the pictures I have been posting about the upcoming changes. I want it to be classic, black and white. Simple and classy. I am still trying to find the right theme and I think I settled on one last night. In a few day Tragic Girls will be officially close for “construction” while I work on the changes. I hope you will all enjoy what is to come!
You know when you’re younger you dream about your life when you’re older? You know, great friends, great relationship, great job, and a home? Well I often still day dream about being grown up and having all of these things, but then I have to wake up and realize that I am grown up. When we were younger we saw ourselves having these things because that is what adults have, or that is what we think. No one tells you really how hard it is. Sure your parents tell you that you have to work hard and we get that, but it is not just hard that you have to work, you have to work REALLY hard. Come November I have been working for ten years. TEN YEARS and I am only 25. Yes I started working when I was 15, and am I any closer to being able to own a home? NO! Sure I have a great job and I know it can pay me well in the future, but getting to that future is difficult when you make just enough to pay all your bills and maybe go out to dinner once with your friends or maybe buy yourself a little something. I do work hard and have been working hard. I am one of the few people I know of (or maybe even the only one I know of) that worked three jobs through college while balancing 18 semester units and still trying to have a college experience by being active and holding executive positions in a sorority. I get the working hard part. It is just sometimes hard for me to believe the hard work paying off part. I have the great friends and the great relationship, I even have a good job that just isn’t up to its full potential yet and I know with patience it will come (i HOPE). But sometimes it is nicer to stay in this day dream that it will come when I am older and pretend that I am not “older” yet, pretend that I don’t feel behind and that I have not been working so hard for ten years for nothing. Sometimes though, this day dream can be heavy. I’ll reflect back now and again and wonder why I have worked so hard? Why did I miss out on so much in college to work three jobs and to be at this point in my life and feel like I do not have much to show for it, except for a nice car that I only have because I totaled the car I paid off by working those three jobs? Life is tough and you have to work hard for it. It comes easier for some, but I have learned and am practicing that I cannot compare myself to others. Everyone is different and we have to grow in our own ways. I just keep telling myself that all of my hard work WILL pay off eventually. Until then, I’ll keep day dreaming and working towards eventually.
I have always known this about myself, I am a people pleaser. This trait can be a good thing and a bad thing, but for myself, since I have not addressed the issue early enough, it is becoming a bad thing. I care so much about what other people think that I do not think about myself enough. Why do I need to always put myself on the back burner? If someone in our group asks where we want to eat, why can’t I make a decision? I would rather go where everyone else wants even if it is a place I do not like. I can witness everyone saying their opinions and their answers and I just wonder why I cannot? Once you get into a habit like this it is hard to break. It is so embedded into my character and this is how people know me. Here is a simple example. My sister does hair and I have an appointment on Saturday. I am going back red and I am so excited. Well she sent me a picture on Instagram with a hair suggestion. It wasn’t really my style and I told her that it was more her than me. She responded another suggestion like doing something similar. All I wanted my answer to be was, “No I already know what I want.” How simple is that? I just didn’t respond, but if I would have I bet it would have been an overcompensating answer being super nice and sugar coating my “NO” so she wouldn’t be mad, when in reality she probably would not have even been mad. What is wrong with me?!
So my confession is that I am a huge people pleaser and my goal is to be more of a me pleaser. I want a say, an opinion, and a stance. This will be a challenge for me but I know I can change a little at a time.
Note: This is the first of my category Tragic Confessions. These will be confessions that are good, bad and funny. There may also be confession by others. Feel free to submit your Tragic Confessions to me to post by emailing firstname.lastname@example.org. These can be anonymous or you can be brave. You can also participate by using #tragicconfessions on Twitter! Follow me at @tragicgirls
It has been strangely long since something tragic has happened to me, but never fear, tragicness found me yet again. The other night I was in the shower and I noticed my hands were kind of white and I could see the veins in them more. Nothing strange really, I could just notice my veins. I kept doing my shower thing and checked my hands again. They were getting even whiter. I didn’t feel that great all day so I started wondering if something was wrong. I checked my hands again and it was getting worse. I could see all of veins in my hands. They were so blue and I could see even the smallest ones going across my fingers. I started panicking. Something was seriously wrong. Of course since I was panicking and focusing on my hands, they started to feel weird in a tingly, numb way. This was the end I knew it! I got out of the shower, wrapped up in my towel, sat down on the toilet and put my head down because I was feeling light headed. I silently told myself (because my boy friend was in the next room) to take deep breaths, in my nose, out my mouth. It is okay, you are just panicking, nothing is wrong. I got dressed and started doing my other things like brush my teeth and was avoiding looking at my hands. After I brushed my teeth I finally looked down at them. They were pink and normal like nothing had happened. I felt such relief and then instantly felt like a psycho. I just had a mini panic attack in the shower because of pale hands and blue veins. I am ridiculous. I am now at the point that I can laugh at it, but I still didn’t tell my boyfriend, he already thinks I am crazy I am sure.
Sometimes the day just calls for denim, and a lot of it! I took advantage of one of the only cool days this week, and when I say cool I mean 88 degrees. I found another outfit on Pinterest that I could recreate easily since I had all the pieces already, I just had never thought about pairing them together. Black high waisted jeans with a blue chambray button up, completed with a pair of snakeskin flats and a gold statement necklace. LOVED this.
There are so many expectations for women today. Everywhere we look we are being told how to look and how to act. If you don’t follow these not so subtle guidelines, then you are cast out as odd or weird. I know, I get stuck in them too. I love fashion and dressing up, but sometimes it can be exhausting. Sometimes you just want to wear sweats, a baggy tee, no bra, and a messy bun and not be judged. But no, for work today I wore a super cute outfit that left an imprint around my waist and a blister on my heel. Now as I sit here writing this, in baggy shorts, a baggy tee, no bra, and my hair in a knot, I feel so comfortable and relaxed. Why is it that we have to feel less comfortable in order to be comfortable with ourselves and others? It is just a question. I will in no way be sporting this pj look to work tomorrow, I will get dressed up per my usual self. It is just interesting to think about.
I have been thinking about how we think we have to fit into this mold. It made me start thinking about my blog, and I think I am realizing what it is becoming. I have been conflicted when it comes to the main idea of my blog. The name itself is Tragic Girls. I started with tragic stories of my roomie and I. Then I decided to incorporate my love of fashion and doing style posts. I thought though that I couldn’t do both because they were so different. Then I decided it was my blog and I can do whatever I want. Well now I know. I have realized what the meaning of this blog is. I know we all try to be perfect and fit the mold of beautiful, put together, social, and smart women. I am 100% guilty of this. This blog though shows that no matter how put together I make myself seem, and to an extent have achieved, I am tragic. I trip in heels (a lot), get hungover after two drinks even when I don’t get drunk, spend money I don’t have on clothes, burn half the stuff I cook, and have seriously bad luck sometimes. This blog is where I come to be myself. Trying to fit the mold is something inevitable. The majority of us are going to try to keep up, but along the way, don’t forget yourself. Admit your flaws and laugh about them. See beauty and humor in the imperfect. If you don’t do this, you’re in for a lot of let down because none of us are perfect, no matter how close to perfect we make it appear on social media. Pictures capture a single moment in a day where life can be a roller coaster. We get to choose the moment we want to share with all of our followers in hopes of having perfect appearances. Share your tragic moments. You’ll be surprised to find at least one other person who has experienced the same thing.
We are all here trying to fit the mold like this…
But really we are looking more like this…
And thinking it is a good fit like this…
Do not be afraid to be a tragic girl. I admit it all here on my blog and people I know still see me as classy and sophisticated. I just remind people that I am a real person.
XOXO- Tragic Girls #betragic
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