My ex has this uncanny ability to know when my life is going extremely well; only to attempt to jump back in it and foil all the goodness I’ve been building. (Come on, we all know you’re following my social media & sites for the play-by-play. STALKWARD!)

Anyhow, Monday was particularly manic and had me in a serious funk, so my sparkly and ever so shiny Dorothyesque shoes were vying for the spotlight.  All my worries floated away as I skipped to dinner in my disco ball shoes with my brothers to commit a massive amount of carbocide via pasta.  Damn those Italians and their saucy ways!