Summertime Sunblock

I've gone through plenty of phases, both cute and definitely the ones that could have been avoidable. You know which ones I'm talking about...the times when I wanted to be goth/scene but was still weirdly afraid of going into hot topic because these people had strange piercings and I didn't, yet somehow my mom was all about it. She's a people person so of course she became besties with people with holes in their ears (which I luckily never wanted).

Anyway, being that it's summer, I'm into the hat phase. Both baseball and floppy. If you're a girl, you know that pictures at the beach during sunset make the world go round. Luckily, my mother blessed her daughters with having artsy genes just like her. It would be a real bore, let me tell you, if my sister and I had completely opposite interests. So yes, I'm HASHTAG BLESSED that my sister and I are similar (maybe because I have a weird fascination of wanting to be just like her? #LittleSisterSyndrome).

Hat: J.Crew
Dress: H&M
Sunnies: Franchesca's



Get your hat phase on and get like me (minus really awkward sun burn)

XOXO, Gossip Girl.

Blogger girl here. Your one and only source into the exciting and (most days) boring lives of a lifestyle blogger. Recently spotted was Sunshiney Rach giving the fashion world a try. Despite being in bed by 10PM most days and drooling over everything lonely boy does, she has somewhat of a fashion sense. 

I think we can all admit that we would love nothing more to rock plaid and grunge like Little J, Headbands out the wazoo like B, and of course how the effingg hell does S get her hair to look like she rolled out of bed but definitely with a side of sexy. #SheWokeUpLikeThat. At the end of the day, I would be fine with being me and dating a Humphrey...Dan, preferably. However, unlike our favorite TV drama's we hate saying goodbye to at the end of each episode, we can only do our best to attempt to be half as awesome as them, right? Right. 

While reaching season 2 episode 1 of Gossip Girl (Don't worry I'm rewatching), Everybody and their moms (okay, minus B's/Lonely Boy's) ship off to the H to the Amptons for some booze cruises, crazy flings, rekindling loves, and networking the shit out of the White Party (we see you, Jenny). Besides the yearning for white dresses (since it's after MDW...obv), we were holding our horses for Dan to show up from his one night stand flirty faze to greet S at the party in her Grandpa's suit from the '70s. Can you say yum? I can...but I think you get the picture by now -- I love Dan Humphrey. 

A few years and some ago, it's inevitable they forgot my invite to this grand event. If I was invited however, I would definitely be sporting some of these. Even if I was never meant to attend (and stalk the living day lights out of Lonely Boy), I can at least help you find a dress that a dude will be drooling over you for.

(left to right): Tobi, H&M, H&M, Cotton On,  Chinese Laundry (shoes), H&M, Nordstrom

To rock Chinese Laundry shoes? You don't need to compete in pageants to wear them (although they are a sponsor of Miss Universe Organization)! Enter to win a pair for free here via ThePageantGuy.com!

You know you love me.

XOXO,

Sunshiney Rach

riding with my surfboard

Like the great movie Lilo and Stitch once said "There's no place I'd rather be than on the surfboard out at sea...", I think thats all a great walk in the park, if you can swim. What about us non-swimmers? The un-adventure-ers who enjoy being in showered/relaxing by 9PM, netflixing, w(h)ine-ing, and oldies jazz? I think we'd rather be on land-in bed.

Being inspired by Ashten's post, I decided to get off my lazy non-swimming-bottom and party hardy..with some piercings. I was dying to get a third hole following my first and second ones but that day I was like hmm cartilage is cute -hit me up. So I did it.

I was shitting my pants THE WHOLE WAY THERE. 

(You can ask Cat). 

Ya see, Cat is a great friend, creme de la creme, the batman to my robin, the whole shebang. Meaning, she's always been the sassy lady to be like grow a pair and do it to it homie. Ever since the years of our awkward scene days, even. I had my first OJ/Vodka mix (read: first alcoholic bev) c/o this biffypants. She was with me when I first kissed a boy. Basically, Cat was the devil on my shoulder but I don't think it was ever a bad thing. Only when I wanted to be her and bought bright pink pants and band tee's from hot topic.

Back to ear piercing. Yep, shitting my pants more and more second by second. The only reason I was so nervous was because I DONT DEAL WITH PAIN WELL. EVER. But, the first time I got my ears pierced, I was in the 5th grade and I made my friends come with me, I held my moms hand, and some kid was so confused as to why a girl in an Abercrombie shirt was crying at the piercing pagoda..so he proceeded to walk into a wall. Chivalry, at best. 

Once I got in the chair this time, I was wondering if I could back out. I then told Cat how I had to hold her arm and she probably rolled her eyes but I was too worried to pay attention. It was over BEFORE I FREAKING KNEW IT and boom. Piercy-pierced at last. .2 seconds later I was in shock mode so I couldn't stop giggling. This is why I don't do pain people.

So yea, hit up those waves with your surfboart and figure where ya wanna be- all adventurous. In the mean time, I'll be sleeping on my left side. 

3 Cheers for Hot Professors

There is no sugar coated fluffy way to share with you how much I despise math. Usually you can find me doodling hearts, my monogram, stupid sunflower-y shit, and everything in-between to avoid the formula writings. When none of those are happening, I zone out and proceed to scroll up and down to see whats popping (or not popping) in the wonderful world of twitter.

I started summer classes with a big yawn. No really, it was sort of difficult to keep my eyes open given that days circumstances. However, I was early to class- just by a few minutes. As I walked towards the room I peered through the glass. I saw a projecter screen on (*groans and grunts*) and my professor and I made eye contact. Pretty sure my pupils got the opposite of shrunk because he was a hunk. Rachel, 1.

I decided to walk into the class room, sit near the desk, and proceed to sit second closest to the front. Was I on drugs? Was I exhausted? Was I in love? #dramatic. I'd say about one and a half of those reasons are right. As I admired his hairy arms handing me a vile packet of all things 'I should probably know about math', some lady liked it so she put a ring on it. Clearly, I would too.

You see, my professor has the charm, humor, and looks like Chris Messina, my lover from The Mindy Project, meets a hot guy I once hooked up with. So you most likely understand my excitement.

Like I've mentioned before via twitter AND life, is that math was created by the witches. I heard it was actually used for some spell shit in the salem witch trials shenans...Ok really, the devil created it WHO ARE WE KIDDING. Luckily, there are benefits to having your WORST course taught by my favorite type of male species, DILFS. 

1. They make it more exciting. You laugh at their stupid jokes and stories, you occasionally doze off thinking about their wickedly good facial hair, and you think about spending the rest of your life together. I'm not a crazy - promise. However, it definitely gives me SOMETHING to look forward to being that this is pure torture - a two hour summer class that is about a half hour drive each way.

2. It's okay, let them drop something. The good ole bend and snap minus the snap because he's not a dramatic white girl. But hey, no complaints from this opposite-of-cougar-chaser.

3. Understanding math? Me? Never. Maybe I just really connected with him (HES JEWISH, so of course Rachel does) but so far so good - he made math easy to understand. Not like my last professor WHO I HAD BEFORE IN HIGH SCHOOL who definitely tried to make students life hell and fail them/give poor grades.

Walking into class I had no clue if my professor was either a person that pees in the "dress" or "plain stick figure" place. Good thing he's everything I want my future husband to look like. Word of the wise, take shitty classes with hot professors and all your worries will slowly disappear.

P.s I'm not actually THAT creepy, just exaggerating. That's what us bloggers do best, right?

Its not easy

When you're in a relationship, you are too blind to see how lonely your single friends are because you constantly update your snapchat story to a picture of your beau, your tweets become ALL about him, and he's like one of the two people you hang out with, besides your pet. Relationship rachel? That was so her, too. Single sunshiney Rach? Not so much. 

I've never been the one to go life without a boyfriend. I sound creepily non independent but trust me I am - I just really like having someone to bother constantly. The past 8 or so months of being single has taught me a lot, like any cliche person would say...#guilty. It's showed me how I'm really great at not being in a relationship, but how much I crave one. Granted, I do not want to be in a relationship just because I need one.  Talking to Rachael has helped me a lot. She is such a strong lady friend who proves that happiness can come within and dudes are all lame-o heads. The hardest part of all of this shenanigans is telling yourself you are okay. Granted like my post the other day, you can't depend on your friends advice or what you always read to define your life. 

One thing I don't believe in, sadly, is that if I stop looking he will find me. I'm sorry but guys suck and are lazy. The end.  People say they like their friends single better and that was fab in high school. I lived a crazy life that I definitely do not do now. I'm the relationship type of person.

I like to be a grandma and spend nights just hanging out and getting dinner or take out, watching HGTV (okay I can settle for sports)...I am not a crazy fuzzy boot raver who decides to mack on all those weird raver mask dudes...this actually sounds terrible. I'm the person who'd rather be in the back of a concert because you have more room to breathe, not moshing between the yuck of post pubescent high schoolers. I need brunch on at least one weekend morning, or else my weekend is not complete. 

It's definitely gotten easier to meet new people with online dating and the good old Tindy, but it's swarming with weirdos and creeps galore -- also known as places its hard to find a potential boyfriend.

For now, I'm gucci with being single even though it's mating season. I'm guessing I'll just stick to dating netflix, what a hunk. *heart eyes emoji*

Flower power holler back | Summer 2014 trends

SUMMER IS HERE...as I say writing this outside of starbucks in 60 degree weather shivering in a tshirt and jeans. If you're like me (gd bless you) you'll be hitting up a few summer concerts, days in the city, aaaand BEACH DAYS. holler mofuggin back. Although I am no fashion major/connoisseur/expert/Dr.Phil of fashion...I think I have a few solid words of wisdom for summer trends.

If you've been checking up on tumblr/Pinterest lately, FLOWER CROWNS are where it's at. Truly fab for a great fashion photoshoot, summer concert/festivals, or just to have people check you out at the local starbs/fancy shmancy dinner place admiring how they wish they were dressed like you.

The great thing about flower crowns is you can turn it into a little DIY with a bestie or two or five, or hit them up at almost any girly fashion store (i.e charlotte russe/H&M...etc..) and buy them by the billions.

What's your summer must have?

Flower Crown via Charlotte Russe | Similar 

Anxiety Shamgshmiety

A little about myself is that I love capri suns, despise math, and could watch pageants and netflix for the rest of my life (every second of it). Oh, and also? I've been boxing a near and not so dear friend of mine for most of my life: the big A. Anxiety.

After researching (I'm not a premed major...I had to do it for a random class) I read that over 40 million americans suffer from it, and 1/3rd of us don't even treat it. I'm one hundred and fifty-seven percent part of the lazy/dumb/'I'm not helping myself' half. Yes, I do have medication, but do I really want to take it? No. Why? I'm not a person who turns down meds to help me feel better, I just want to help myself find other ways to live a normal life. 

Story time (if you're interested, it's not the good kind): I really hate sharing this with others, but I mean yet I'll share it with randoms from tinder on a first date? (I'm surprised they waited until the 5th/6th/etc date to run for the hills...) I have the weirdest type of anxiety. Sure we all love comparing our panic attacks and the amount of time we cried, but I think therapists put an asterisk next to this bad boy, considering all the googling in the world can't tell me how horrific or how soon I will die from this epidemic (damn you WebMD). So, I get really bad anxiety in the shower. I've tried to find out the association between things in my life and why this would happen but it's really hard to tell since nothing has happened to me. But when I get anxiety, I get a panic attack and have to get out of the shower until I calm myself down. The crappy part is sometimes it will happen twice within a 5 minute period.

..Looks like I'm loosing followers from my blog and now people are placing me in a loony bin. Ultimately, if you suffer from anxiety, I have some tips that could (or could not) help you. 

Take control of your situation. The reason we suffer from anxiety is because fear of the unknown. Most of my anxiety is caused by stress (obvi common) so try to have a good ole happy day (by putting on some Beyoncé). When taking control of the situation, find your happy place. Do/see things that will put you're mind at ease. Also if you're a creative yet type A person like me, lists can make you feel better if you're stressing about stuff you have to do. Even put things you've already accomplished on the list so you can mark it off with your new electric blue gel pen. It's okay, I won't tell.

Mindless activities that make me happy...driving into the city!

Retail Therapy. Say it with me!!!!!!!!!!!! So I don't think monsieur wallet or husband/boyfriend/dad will approve of this one, but it's a-okay in my book. If you were to ever see my closet you wouldn't think oh hey this girl has anxiety (yet I wonder why I complain I have no clothes...), but it's how I cope with anxiety. Also if you are retail therapy-ing here's a tip: CLEAR-ANCE-RACK. Hello 5 dolla shirt at TJ maxx!

Work out. I could probably make a playlist with all songs including rappers saying stuff like they like women who are working out (I'm pointing fingers at you, J.Cole), but he has a valid point. When I'm at the gym, I either watch netflix (shout out to the iPhone app), or listen to super hype electric dance music [EDM] because then I bob my head to the beat and also need to try to prevent myself from shaking my booty because I'm a typical #whitegirl. *hair flip emoji*. Once I achieve back sweat (yuck), I'm ready to head on out. When I leave, I'm a brand new person. Working out is mindless (I also don't do heavy lifting....) but do something mindless when on your elliptical! Read, listen to a radio talk show, netflix...possibilities are endless!

#EmbarrassingSeflie

Granted, I'm no therapist (Heck, this is why I have one. Sort of.) but I think those ways to cope with anxiety are what get me through life and realize wow Mom, I am normal. Sort of.  You can figure that one out for yourself...

STOP READING

Guilty of telling you to stop reading. Not your deeply romantics, history books, or that 50 shades series, though. I'm talking about all those viral articles. A few websites include Elite Daily, Thought Catalog....

I'm guilty on clicking on links telling me how I will know he's not the one, The reasons it's okay to be alone, and The best things about dating a jewish girl. Some posts make me cry, some make me think about things too intently, and some I just laugh at/with. They truly are FABULOUS time wasters, homework procrastinators, and giggle worthy to share all over your facebook. 

How many times do we read these time wasters and think wow, you're right he's NOT the one then you proceed to overanalyze everything in your relationship, instantly change your facebook status so Mr.Right is fully aware, and peace the heck out of that one? Or what about when it tells you the perfect woman is like and you realize you don't have a thigh gap and go detox on yo azz for two days before realizing you TRULY love mexican, macchiatos, and messy foods far too much to cut the cord. Lastly, if you live your life by these rules/articles/advice, you may truly NOT have a happy life -- even if it says you will.

One time I was at a (shawty got low low low low) low point in my life, and was struggling with relationship dramz. The guy I was supposed to be hating (not the boyf at the time) told me something I will never forget and choose to share with the world, always. He told me that we can ask ALL the people, ALL the friends in the world about relationship advice...however, noone knows the relationship like you and your significant other does. Yeah, go ahead read the article, text your bestie, post a note (if you please) and upload it on instagram, but truly you have to follow your heart, not follow the rules.

Forcefields, Creepy people, and the Mother.

With full writers block in force, as if I was the Incredibles fam, here I am. Lately, the lack of writing has shown and here I am just rambling.

I realized you can't promote your blog publicly unless you are okay with it because random boys creepy people will read it. Then again, my question is my life is lame, I blog about silly dates I go on, and how much I love tinder/peanut butter/ AND pizza lunchables...so really why are you going out of your way to read my blog, random creeper? That bored? G-d bless your little damn soul.
From this situation, I then realized my blog is my blog and yes I blog for me. I have nothing to hide, I just like keeping my blog private. With that being said, it's definitely my space but on the other side I need to realize that its a free country/world, and anyone can really have and find access to the sunshiney part of the inter web - it's not rocket science. 

Thus worrying about what to blog about has lead to a HXC (how I said hardcore in middle school) writers block. I have nothing to write about, no motivation to even want to write, and I'm just like blah an teensy bit when I think about opening my computer, checking emails, and then logging on to the beloved bliggity blogger world. With that being said, shield force has happened even before realizing I need to defend against the dark arts side. The end.

So obviously in other news, my feelings on the ending of How I Met Your Mother goes as follows:
1. I hated it. Can I say that? I thought season nine was outrageously dragged on with the wedding, and I just didn't expect it. Maybe that's why I hated it so much - because I planned for Ted (whom I am in love with) to be happily ever aftered with da mudda. Instead it's presented as the kids saying how they approve of their dad dating AUNT Robin...after talking about their mom who passed.

2. The wedding for EVERY episode was too much. I expected it to be legend wait for it dary. It was far from it.

3. I wish the mother was in the show more. Honestly, before I even watch the show I hated her because she creeped me out. Did you know she went to the same high school as me? So like, I'm famous by association. As I watched her character develop, she came in a close second to Lillypad.

4. Marshall and Lilly will never be overrated.

The stalkerazzi.

There he is again. Creeping. Like clockwork really. You expect him to pester you until you finally give up and stop caring. One night you pay no attention to him, yet he's still in the back of your mind. The next night? Girlfriend he's all up in your mind driving you over the border of cray cray. It's amazing how he can change mood instantly, too. From motivated to bothering you, then you get mad at him maybe ignore him and put up a front but then he showers you with attention, and you give him that attention RIGHT back.

Sometimes he keeps me up at night just to talk. Sometimes I need me time and push him out of the way to do things I care about...like blogging, sitting on tinder (obviously a priority....), etc. I give about zero shits and no hesitations when telling him he needs to shush and leave me alone. Like can I call the po-po on account of haunting me? At least a 50 feet restraining order, bucko.

I'm really great (especially the past six months or so) of being able to avoid him. It was rare that we communicated for I didn't need him in my life, I had other fish to be reeling in. Except the past week? I haven't been able to shake this stage 5 clinger OFF me. But maybe the problem also lies in that I too care about him.

He told me that the next week? All I need to care about is him. And this is why we don't date. I don't do visits from the ex patrol, the stalkerazzi,  or the dudes that need restraining orders well. I usually spend time I could potentially be spending with him (...If I ever answered his texts...AS IF) but instead I choose to:

Blog about him behind his back. Do you think I'm sorry? NAH.
Eat a lot.
Paint my nails at least ONCE every two days.
Beg my brother in the pouring rain to take pictures for my instagram/blog.
Sit on OKCUPID at 1AM #BUCKY.
Proceed to pick off nail polish due to anxiousness.
Reorganize my room but be too lazy to do laundry.
Drive around and waste all my gas because thats what happens when you have to drive absolutely EVERYWHERE.
Eat again because I'm hungry when writing this post.
Retail therapy and go to stores where you can get a purse for 9.99!! Cha ching.
Hum the theme song to full house, proud family, fresh prince, and sister sister.
Do my make up aimlessly because I can and feel good about myself~.
Facebook stalk my mom because its hilarious ya know moms on facebook.

Anything is better than spending time or being bothered by this loon. He's sort of like the annoying uncle you really cant stand but have to tolerate your WHOLE life because he's your uncle and he's just there. YA KNOW. I'm sorry but there is no way you don't have a man like this in your life.

Want to know his name? Shhhhh. ready?

F I N A L S.