After a whirlwind Vegas weekend two weeks ago, this week I headed to West Palm Beach, FL to experience my first ever commercial shoot. It was challenging, but interesting and always fun to do something different. Next month I’m off to Cleveland!
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During my travels, I found this via Lauren Conrad. What a great idea to give up something different every month?? I wish I’d found this sooner, but nevertheless I’m starting No-Fried February! So look forward to the aches, pains (and hopefully positives) that come out of this experience. Husband and I are also working on an exercise plan I’m going to share with you and see if you will join us in our journey. More to come on that.
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Books, books, books. I’m trying to read more because when I do read and finish a really good book, it is just so gratifying. I recently finished Where We Belong and Where’d You Go Bernadette, both of which I’d recommend. However, I made an impulse buy in the West Palm Beach airport knowing I had a 2 1/2 hour flight ahead – Bossypants. I finished it on the plane and absolutely loved it. Every page was hilarious, and if I hadn’t been on a plane I would have been laughing out loud the entire book. Tina Fey does a tremendous job of providing hilarity, wit and advice. As if I didn’t already love her before thanks to Mean Girls, SNL and 30 Rock, now I adoooore her.
The second book is one I just picked up that husband and I will be reading together as part of our new couples Bible study. 7 – An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess is a challenge to cut down areas of excess in life: food. clothes. spending. media. possessions. waste. stress. I hope to share our challenges with you and inspire you to do the same.
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Oh, and if you don’t follow me on instagram, (first, you should: @milledavis) here’s another tidbit you missed…
My mom’s birthday is always an occasion to celebrate. Last year, husband and I hosted a party for her and some friends (Birthday Cheers) and it turned out fabulous. But this year was extra special, she was turning 21 of course! So she and I spent a weekend in NYC, then celebrated her actual birthday with friends, family, pizza, beer, cupcakes and a beautifully adorned square. As I was thinking about my mother and what a wonderful job she’s done raising me, I was reminded of this Mother’s Prayer from Tina Fey’s book Bossypants. What a perfect, hilarious yet heartwarming prayer – one that I know my mother has said, and one that I will certainly say in a few years.
“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half and stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers and the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.