Our little family tree

In honor of the Grammy awards last night, I wanted to share a little family secret with y'all.

Actually, it's not that little.

It's a pretty big bomb I've been waiting for some time to drop.

Ready for it?

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Macklemore is my half-brother.

That's right. I'm convinced Macklemore is my mother's illegitimate son. She won't own to it, but I'm sure giving up a child is difficult, and not something you're readily ready to share with your other offspring.

The family resemblance is uncanny though, even if you can only really see it when she's not wearing makeup. Not to worry, I found pictures of her freshly naked face for you.

You see it, right?!?!

I'm so glad people finally know the truth. Its hard to stay humble when your family has such impressive credentials. 

And shout out to big bro on his four grammy wins last night! You make our family so proud!  

5 ways I know I'm failing at adulthood:

I am the worst at being an adult.

At this point the only thing I've got going for me is that I'm over 21. That's it. I meet no other prerequisites other than the age requirement. 

Ignoring the glaringly obvious problems (problems of the "no job/no income/living with my parents at age 26" variety)... here are five areas where I've got some serious work to do if I'm ever going to make it as a functioning member of society.  

(5) I cannot fold a fitted sheet.

You would think this one wouldn't be hard to remedy- watch a youtube video and learn that shit. But for whatever reason, I still stick with the old "roll it and fold it until it resembles a square and then shove it in the closet between two pillowcases" method. It's sad. I would be embarrassed for anyone to spend time in my linen closet.

(4) I still sleep in my eye makeup.

This one is actually a bigger problem than it sounds. At 26, I feel like I've reached the age where it's starting to become unacceptable to go out in public looking like Britney Spears circa 2007. You're not in college. Those Victoria Secret Pink sweats aren't cute anymore. It's time to start putting in a little more effort into what you look like. Think Rachel McAdams at the beginning of Family Stone and then at then end.

(Note: Don't worry I don't actually take this advice. I'm just fully aware that I should be taking this advice.) 

Enter Makeup.

I'm not one of those girls that loves or hates makeup. I would love it more if I had the money to play with the good stuff. I am, however, one of those girls that hates having to get up to put makeup on. So inevitably this always happens: I fix my makeup on Day 1. I think I do a good job. I try my darndest not to smear it all day. I go home. I do NOT take makeup off. I go to sleep. And then I wake up and wear the same makeup on Day 2.

Gross, right? It's not like I do this all the time. (Only days when I reeeallly think my eye makeup looks good, and I'm not that confident in my makeup artistry skills in the first place.) But it's still very no buenos.

Not to mention when I pull that, I'm not getting all the good moisturizing I need from my night cleanser to ensure my skin doesn't turn into Madonna's arms.

(3) I avoid my credit card company like its the plague.

I got a credit card back in 2009 so I could pay for school books, so I don't feel too terrible knowing that at least I'm not one of those people who fell prey to the plastic just so they could fund their H&M obsession.

However, I can't get past the mindset that if I pretend they're really not there, they won't call me.

This is how that's working out for me:

Every time I DO call and take care of my business this conversation happens:

     

     Capital One: "Um, Ms. Fuller, we've had a hard time reaching you, is there another # we can try?" 

     Me: "Really? That's weird. I think my phone has just been acting up lately. No, this is the best." 

     *Click* Hangs up phone mortified and drops head in shame. 

(2) I equate people's love for me based on where they place my name on a list. 

I know this makes me a sociopath. But if you tag me in a post on Facebook and you tag Sam and Anna's names first, obviously you love them more.

It's sick. I don't think I was held enough as a child. I keep telling myself a heathy level of emotional stability is on its way.

(1) I'm still not comfortable telling sales people "no." 

Honestly, I'm terrible at a lot of social interactions. You want me to call in our order to the Mexican restaurant for supper? No, thank you. I'll just wait for lunch tomorrow.

But sales people make me especially nervous, and I can't handle the expectation that is created when someone is trying to get you to buy a product. (More of that emotional stability nonsense mentioned above.)

Want proof?

Here's a $5 block of goat cheese that I bought from Kroger day before yesterday, because I didn't want to hurt the nice man's feelings by telling him "no, thank you." Seriously, that's all it took was a simple "No, thank you!" But I couldn't bring myself to it. And now I'm really hoping my mother never sees this so I won't be left with a $5 block of cheese and a lecture on being a pushover.

So that's it.

Actually that's not even close to being it, but you get a little bit of an idea of how much silly juvenility I still live with every day.

What about y'all? Anything incredibly adolescent you do that proves you still haven't gotten this growing up business mastered? 

Fannie Flagg Cool

Confession: I can't get my shit together.

Actually that should be read as I. CAN'T. GET. MY. SHIT. TOGETHER.

I really need you to sense my desperation. Whatever wrong turn taken or deep dark hole I've put myself in, I have no idea how to fix, and I'm finding that mid-mid-life crises thing that Zach Braff talked about so much in The Last Kiss is real. Except I feel cheated, because I haven't gotten my biznass together enough in the first place to really freak out about the repercussions of where my decisions have landed me.

So obviously, the only logical thing to do is start a blog.

Brutal honesty: I'm hoping this will make me famous. I mean people read Perez Hilton and I know I'm more funny than that guy (if in no one's mind but my own). Chelsea Handler has a talk show. Ross Matthews just friends enough people on the E! Network to float around there whenever he wants. Surely I can be as cynical or readily witty as those two to make it in the blog world.

Even more brutal honesty: Ok, so maybe I don't plan on becoming famous. (The dream is real, people, just not the expectation.) I think I really just need people to know that I'm still funny and relatable, a master of sarcasm and pop culture, and all the things that make it fun to be me still exist, even while the rest of my life is a drunken hot mess spread out in so many places that I don't even know where to begin to start picking it back up.

Personal Life Goal and Goal for this Blog: to be "Fannie Flagg Cool" (oh hey there, blog title!)

Y'all, I love Fannie Flagg.

Anyone that can embrace and relate and love southern culture the way she does... well, they score an A++ in my book. Aaand she was my favorite panelist on the Match Game. Aaaand I if could steal her personality and make it my own, I would.

Seriously though, watch this and then tell me you don't want a little Fannie Flagg in your life.




So there it is. My first blog post.

I'm seriously a newbie, so please don't judge *too* harshly quite yet. (I had to look at three different videos just to learn how to embed that youtube video.)
I more than welcome any expert advice from you experienced bloggers about what in the heck I'm doing.
Here's hoping I actually keep up with posts and don't run out of ideas by week 2. *fingers crossed*
Y'all wish me luck!