I’m back. Resurrected, risen, returned.

Did the whole move six states away thing, and damn, it was hard.

If you know me, though, you know I don’t give up. Ever. So I’m determined that this was meant to be and adjusting is just hard, but I really do think I am supposed to be here. I get better every day and I feel more and more like myself too.

I’d be writing all weekend if I were to use real form and posts, so, just for my own memory, I’m listing all the major life updates I’ve had since my last post.

  • I had sex with a TC, I, on September 16 at like 1am. Drunk, but not blacked out.
  • I then proceeded to also fuck a PDT, N, on the night of the 21. Well, it was probably early on the 22nd if I’m being honest.
  • My beautiful and sweet 88 year old grandmother, affectionately known as Mimi, passed away in the first week of August. I had to move on the 9th, and between that and other family travel complications, I moved per usual. Then, on the weekend of the 26th, I went back home for the services. It was lovely and filled with family, as she would’ve wanted, but I still miss her dearly.
  • On the 19th I had a sort of episode and flipped out on my brother’s girlfriend, who fucked me over severely, which resulted in me finding a therapist ASAP down here.
  • I found one, Dr. B, and he is possibly the sweetest person I know. I love him and his advice and couldn’t believe I had been missing out on therapy for so long.
  • Because I haven’t been in the best state since moving, I sense that my parents are worried about me and are afraid to make another major life change by divorcing. They continue to lead the same separate lives, like ships passing in the night.
  • I have a deadline of apologizing to my brother’s girlfriend by this Friday, and I haven’t done so yet. Or spoken to her since the 18th of August.
  • A guy who fucked me over at home, MM, texted me today asking if he could see me. HA. No, but it feels good to know that I’m *finally* desirable, ya know? And he’s rushing SC, SN, and KS. We’ll see.
  • I miss home so much. More than I thought I would.
  • I’m trying really hard to do well in school but also sleep and have a social life. So that’s basically just what I’m doing now.

Alright, I have to go. Saturdays in the South… if you know, you know. I’ve missed you, though, and I’ll be back soon.





what i order at a….

At a girls dinner tonight, I realized I often get stuck in a rut of going to the same restaurants over and over. I’d forgotten how much fun it is to try new places and their food, drinks, and ambience. Of course, I rarely regret experimenting, but sometimes it’s just nice to have a few go-tos.

From there, I thought of this post. Everyone has their signature order at any type of restaurants, and these are mine. If you’re curious, here’s what I order at a…

Sushi restaurant: Tempura shrimp rolls and a Japanese salad, which is a specialty at a local place but deserving of a spot.

Pub: A burger and fries.

Salad bar: Spring mix with romaine, cucumbers, carrots, celery, green peppers, radishes, tomato, chickpeas, sunflower seeds, and any sort of citrusy dressing. At my local spot it’s chipotle lime and it couldn’t be better.

Mexican restaurant: Soft shell carnitas.

Italian restaurant: Eggplant parmesan, linguine with any lemon-based sauce, or Bolognese.

Sprinkles: Strawberry or sprinkle cupcake. What dreams are made of.

[via sprinkles.com]
Chipotle: Chips and guac.

Moe’s: A Close Talker in a hard shell bowl with romaine, chicken, black beans, cucumber, medium salsa, guac, and loads of their Southwest vinaigrette.

Southern restaurant: Chicken and waffles, tomato pie, or anything with jalapeno grits.

Those are really the only types of spots I frequent. I’m not a huge sushi person, but that’s where I was tonight so I added it first.

What are your ride or die orders at any type of restaurant?






three weird things about me

Whenever I do something a little off, which happens quite frequently, I often tell anyone around me that it’s just one of my “things.” They’re just weird things I do and prefer and say.

For example, today I was in the airport bathroom washing my hands. When I had to dry them off, I accidentally stuck them under the dryer because I was distracted. I hate hand dryers. They never do the job and I would rather use paper towels or even sandpaper than a moldy dryer.

I also hate escalators. I don’t know if it’s a fear thing or if I fell off one as a child, but I freak out on an escalator. I hate the moving steps. I hate the idea that it could get stuck. I hate the slow churn of the steps moving up or down. For some reason, it just makes me so anxious.

Lastly, I am straight up neurotic about the noise of plastic-y things like chip bags. The sound of someone squishing up a chip bag or similar makes me shiver all over. I actually got the chills typing that. I have NO idea where it came from or when it started, but I’ve been doing it since as long as I can remember. It makes me so annoyed when people crumple them instead of simply opening them or throwing them out.

After writing this, I feel a little better about how weird I am. These are just some of my “things”, and they’ll probably never not be things.



happy one year!

Today is the one year anniversary of starting this blog!

First and foremost, thank you times a million. I wouldn’t be writing without all of the subscribers, commenters, and readers. I hope that instant blonde is a place where you can come to be inspired, to laugh, and to get a break from whatever you’re going through. You have provided me with more ideas, positivity, and creativity than you’ll ever know. So much has changed in my life since I first started writing in 2015 and I can’t thank you enough for being along for the crazy ride.

Two hundred something posts later, and I’m still here. I know: I’m a complainer, I often contradict myself, I rarely follow my own advice, I make irrational decisions, I pander, I obsess- and I mean obsess- over a lot of guys, and I can’t seem to stick to a posting schedule. Despite all that, I really love blogging and all that it’s helped me through in the past three hundred and sixty-five days.

My goals for the next year? Post more regularly and with better content, stop letting men consume a lot of my worries, find direction for the next four years of my life, and learn how to make one of these all-sprinkle cakes, of course.

[via a happyfooddance.com]
Hopefully I’ll have a less cliché post up for my two year anniversary. We can only dream.





happy belated to me

With another birthday under my belt, I thought I’d be feeling wiser and excited from the influx of attention, tagged Facebook photos, presents, and Tweets, but, conversely, I’m feeling old as hell.

I don’t know why, but it seemed that the year, not really a milestone of any sort, started off on a particularly depressing note. When I was in the shower not even fifteen minutes into my day of birth, I saw and had to kill a fucking spider. On my birthday. Like, why me God? What have I done to you?!

After I was all relaxed and ready to pass out into a glorious sleep on my starfish sheets, I got a call from my brother, who’s back in town for the time being, needing a ride home from a party. Of course, I would do anything for anyone so long as they don’t have to drunk drive, so I picked him up. He would not answer his phone, so I had to come into the host’s house and retrieve my obliterated older brother on my own god damn birthday. Keep in mind, I had just showered and had wet hair, no makeup, and Nike shorts on, so naturally, the athlete was there too, and of course my brother took 32823 hours finding his belongings and saying goodbye, allowing everyone to see me in my PJs. Great. He was kind enough to repay me, by buying me a Diet Coke at the taco place he forced me to stop at at 2 a.m, though he later spilled it all over the passenger seat of my car when he tried to surreptitiously steal a sip at a red light.

That is how I spent the first three hours of my birthday. It was the fourth, by the way, in case you want to mail me any belated gifts, flowers, or cash. (Email me for my P.O. box.) Let’s hope this isn’t foreshadowing my year ahead and was just getting all of the unfortunate things out of the way!

This year, I want to be as glamorous as Kate Moss at her 25th- and always!…

[via pinterest.com]
As elegant as Reese Witherspoon at the 2011 Oscars…

[via allure.com]
And as toned as Britney’s abs, forever and always.

[via mtv.com]
Cheers to me surviving another year (how?!), and the blondes of Hollywood that have shaped my style, direction, and dreams for many birthdays now.





happy 200th!

EVERYONE! As of May 23rd, I’ve officially posted 200 times on instantblonde!

Despite falling off the train a little bit in April and May, I’m really proud of myself. Writing this blog has always been a dream of mine and I’m so happy that thirty-eight of you like to follow along!

So even though we’re celebrating late, which seems to be a theme around here, it’s still a cause for a party. Pop the champagne, throw the confetti, or dye your hair blue, because it’s all fun!

Actually, just kidding. Most definitely do NOT dye your hair blue. But, if you’re looking to try balayage or take the plunge with a new length, take this as your sign to go for it!

[via forum.lowyat.net]
THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for reading, commenting, and inspiring me when I get around to writing. You mean the world!


P.S. Read my 200th post all about the art on Gossip Girl!



While “hbdx” seems like the name of LA’s club of the week or the hottest house DJ in New York, it’s just an abbreviation, because I’m a lazy swine and don’t feel like typing out “happy birthday ex!” in a title.

I always loved our birthdays together because I imagined us doing fun group joint birthday celebrations and going on weekend trips to Miami to revel in cake and sunshine. May second was perfectly close to my birthday, June fourth, without overshadowing it.

Last year, at this time, I was excited to surprise him for dinner and drinks downtown, even though it never ended up working out, much like our other plans. At a house party that weekend, I gave him his birthday gift, a favorite SEC team’s visor. I was so excited to give it to him, and he at least pretended to love it.

This year, I’m enveloped in clean sheets paired with a basket of muffins I stole from my mother this weekend and freshly shaven legs. Lavender essential oil is in full use, too. I’m proud of the way I’ve been cramming dutifully studying for an exam and working hard to align summer opportunities and, you know, figure out what the hell I want to do with my life.

“I just have to ask,” a younger friend and lifelong neighbor asked me the other day. “Do you still miss him?” Quickly, of course, I shut her down. But, after thinking about it for a little, I do think I miss him in the tiniest bit. I miss having someone that cared where I was and wanted to meet my parents and talk to me 24/7. I was really proud of myself for texting him a happy birthday message and getting a nice thank you in response.

[via all-things-vs.tumblr. com]
Update: Literally moments before I published this I looked on Twitter, only to find a younger, trashier skank’s racy- to say the least, and the kindest- birthday post for him, including a picture of her on his lap, kissing his cheek. His response included a winky face and a sincere “love you”.  Glad I got a single emoji back for my non-PDA filled, genuine text.

Fuck me, right?