Every Mom’s Favorite Nerd // John Green

Last week the interwebs were blazing with this vlog by John Green.

Do you know who this guy is? If you have a teenager, I bet they do.

John green is a Young Adult (YA) author and 1/2 of the vlogbrothers. Together, John and his brother Hank have created a culture for people (but mostly teens) that celebrates being awesome. And pretty much anyone can be awesome. Especially Nerds.


John Green is a boss. End of story.

I want my kids to be John Green fans. I want them to subscribe to his channel.   John and his brother talk are smart and don’t talk down to kids.  They expect that people actually care about politics, health care, equality, and Harry Potter.  In a celebrity crazed culture. I would rather my kids follow John Green on twitter than Justin Timberlake. And I really, really, really like Justin Timberlake.


Currently Crushing // JR’s Swaxy September

Oh, yes.  Married women still have crushes (here are Erin’s).  They just look a little different.  Here’s whats got me smitten like a kitten, and feeling a little swaxy this September.

Ear Candy

In 11 years of marriage, Brett Dennen is the only man my husband has ever accussed me of having a crush on.  Which I don’t by the way.  Gingers aren’t my thing.  But I’ve been a fan of Brett’s (we are on a first name basis) music for awhile.  His lyrics are sooo good.  They are either super poignant and thought provoking or really fun. And I must say most of his music has a nice groove to it. Like you can get a really good hip roll or at least a hip wiggle in. Comeback Kid in particular is a great booty shaking song. He is a singer/songwriter and he writes about the best and worst parts of life.  His music reminds me of the music I grew up listening to on drives up to Bear Valley with my parents. If you fancy yourself a folk fan than give him a try.  His just released Wild Child and the album is coming out in October.  Do yourself a favor and check it out.  You’ll be running through fields skipping in no time.

And speaking of gingers and hips….

Weasley is Our King

Weasley is Our King

On the Tele

Delivering Babies by  Bike

Delivering Babies by Bike

It is no secret that I have a deep undying love for the BBC. There is nothing like a good period drama.  Call the Midwife is no exception. I’ve mentioned before that I am obsessed with this show. But i watched all the available episodes. Then Netflix made my day and added Season 2. Rejoice! Rejoice! So now you can currently watch the first two seasons on Netflix.   This show has nuns, rich Brits, poor East Enders, and so many women in labor.    (Side note- 1950’s English midwives had women push laying on their sides.  Genius. Why did this practice ever stop?)   Hmm….rereading my description and thinking that women in labor and nuns doesn’t sound like it would be very interesting.  But it seriously is so good.  I spent my kids nap time yesterday tucked away in my bedroom watching it on my Kindle Fire.  It was a great escape.  Also, systematically exposing yourself to labor decreases the likelihood of actually having to birth anything ever again.

On My Face

Nothing bland about this face wash

Nothing bland about this face wash

Ultrabland.  The lovelies at LUSH make this wonderful product.  You put it on your damp face.  Massage for a bit.  Then wipe off with a wet wash cloth. Don’t try to wash it off.  Doesn’t work.  I promise. Don’t try it.   It removes all of your make up but leaves your natural oil on your face. You don’t even have to use a moistruizer after.  It smells like roses and your face will seriously glow afterwards. I’m in my thirties and somehow this cleanser makes me feel like I am very naturally fighting the aging process. Not sure if that is true. But I believe it.

Yummy Yummy

Magic in Cookie Form

Magic in Cookie Form

I eat Paleoish. No added sugar, no grain, and just little bits of dairy. I can live with this. But I can not and will not live without chocolate chip cookies. While my family watched terrible, terrible football I whipped up these babies, the Best Ever Paleo Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Here’s a pro tip: Get your eggs to room temperature. Don’t skip this step. It’s there to help you, not hurt you. And please, please, please refigerate your batter as instructed. You can wait thirty extra minutes for your cookies.

Drinky Drinky

Go for the vanilla one, it's way better.

Go for the vanilla one, it’s way better.

Did you know that you can milk an almond?  Seriously, go to your pantry and pick up an almond.  If you look really closely, right by the pointy end, you’ll find the udder.  Cow’s milk is so overrated.  Jack Lelane once said something like…”Humans are the only animals that drink the milk of another animal”.  Actually I think he said something about suckling and teets, but regardless of the semantics Jack was on to something.  Try some almond milk .  It is delish!  I adore it in my iced Americanos.
And while you are at it, get a quick workout in with Jack.

Currently Crushing // Erin’s Swaxy September

Here at 230somethings our favorite thing is favoritism. We’ve all got it, we just gotta own it. I have a favorite day of the week (wednesday, always and forever), some favorite people (husband, besties, the vlogbrothers), more than a few favorite foods, a couple favorite bands (john mayer, U2, jason mraz), at least two favorite colors (mustard, cobalt blue) … we (humans) love preference. So, in the name of picking favorites here are mine this month (check out JR’s here):


Eleanor & Park by: Rainbow Rowell

this book gave me all the feels

Like so much in my life recently, what I want to say has already been said by epic YA novelist and internet guru John Green. He says, “If you read a lot, you can get jaded. You can forget how a reader has to be generous to a book as much as a book has to be generous to its reader. You feel like maybe everything worth doing has been done, and nothing will ever blow you away ever again. And then you read a book like Eleanor and Park, and you are shocked out of your complacency and grateful to be alive.”

So, yeah, that. Read it. No really, go right now to Amazon and purchase this book. (ProTip: Rainbow  released another novel called FANGIRL this past week – it is getting great reviews and is already on my shelf waiting to be read immediately following the JG book I’m reading now)


Pop it. Lock it. Make it a double.
Pop it. Lock it. Make it a double.

I cannot stop drinking espresso, over ice, in my own kitchen. It’s called Nespresso and I am in love with a machine … hold a sec, I’ll be right back … ok, I had to make one and its frothy aroma is captivating. Delicious.




It’s like a love letter to music and those who listen to lots of it. It is a paid service if you want it on your phone or without ads. I’ve been subscribed for almost six months and I’ll never go back. I don’t buy music any more, but am still suporting the artists who make the musak I love. I am a little obsessed. Click here to hear my favorite recent playlist (spoiler: it is a working playlist of my main male character currently named Bryan)


Outlast Lipstain in Wild Berry Wink

it’s a winking berry, a beautiful berry who’s winking at you. what the what does that mean?

Photo on 9-11-13 at 4.55 PM

you know what’s awk? taking a selfie in red lipstick, that’s what.

It works like a marker and doesn’t bleed into my newly acquired lip lines (thanks aging, you’re a gem). While my mister doesn’t like red lips, I think they are super swaxy and make a normal greasy mommy day feel fancy. The mauve one is also worth the $$


Watsky. Watsky. Watsky.

If you are an internet human, particularly a YouTube internet human, you already know Watsky. But, for everyone else he is pretty unknown. George Watsky, to his mother, is a spoken word poet-slash-rapper kid from the Bay and is on every one of my current mixes from workout to contemplative. If talent had a name it would be Watsky.

Also, Imagine Dragons.


I am tempted to say Friday Night Lights (because I always say FNL), but instead I will recommend Teen Wolf for highest honors (you weren’t expecting something highbrow were you? for shame).

You may be aware that the Netflix homepage gives categorical suggestions. After scrolling through “Talking Animal Cartoons” and “Movies based on Children’s Books” and “Because you watching Dragon Tales” I get to two consecutive categories just for me: “Teen Drama” and “Shows about Teens”. It is a subtle but important difference (no, really, it isn’t though).

my heart beats only for teen wolf gifs

Since the passing of The O.C. I’ve been waiting for a replacement. Gossip Girl: same writers, NYC-Love, couldn’t hold a candle. Hart of Dixie: the same writers, great feel, but wrong again. Then I stumbled upon Teen Wolf, an MTV creation about boys who are wolves, and BAM! there it was:  a well written, self-aware, teen drama with lore and, total bonus, a Seth Cohen redux in the character of Stiles.

his vicious rhetoric too

So, there it is: My Swaxy September list. That was fun, right? Let’s do it again next month with Obsession October, wherein I will geek-out about all things YouTube and quote the Vlogbrother’s some more.

Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than about the stories and people we are quoting

– John Green

How to write a novel // Part 1: My Tale of Getting Started

By: Erin


at starbucks taking selfies of my writing process today

There are so many excellent blogs and articles and books on this topic. As someone who has not finished even one manuscript I cannot tote myself an expert – not even a little bit. But, I assume if you are reading this you are curious about the novel writing process, or maybe just mine. So, here goes…

How I got started…

When I was six my first grade teacher asked our class what we wanted to be when we grew up. A lot of boys said Firefighters or Policemen or Pilots (not the lawyers or store managers or electrical engineers they would become) and a lot of the girls said Nurses, Mommies, and also, Firefighters (maybe the girls were a little more reality-based than they boys, but that’s a blog for another time).

I said “I want to be an Author when I grow up.”

You should know that in 1st grade my favorite foods were camembert cheese and abalone. So yeah, I was a weird kid.

Once I learned to read I loved stories about fairies, fantasy and magic. Teachers were instructed to turn me away from windows, particularly windows with trees, because I would spend class time making up stories in my head about all the little people who skipped between branches and stole kisses behind green leaves, instead of listening to directions on how to fill out grammar worksheets.  I can think of much worse ways to spend one’s easily distracted childhood. For nothing came as close to touching the magic in stories as the making of the stories themselves.  Though, in retrospect I could have used the grammar lessons.

I spent years trying to reign in the ole’ imagination so I could, you know, learn how to do the simple math my phone now does for me. But, all joking aside, somewhere along the line I forgot that I wanted to write. Going through years of higher education with too much required reading and even more required writing distracted me. I learned a trade. I became an intellectual expert in sitting down with people who are suffering, called myself a therapist. I would get good at it, I would work, and then, maybe, with enough street-cred, I would retire as a writer. Become a memoirist, or something.

Along the way, I also forgot how much I loved to read. I was that kid that would come home from school, sit down with a book in the den, and read until mom had to come by and turn on a light. Sometimes I would skip dinner.   I don’t know when I stopped doing this.  I figured I had a hard time reading as much as I used to because I harbored a secret fear that I would love the world of my books more than my real life. Either that or it was because my real life was pretty damn busy and I had no time for reading like a child. Whatever it was, I had forgotten something intrinsically me.

Then, exactly a year ago our little family went to Hawaii for a month. (I know. I know. Hawaii. For. A. Month!!! It’s crazy and you can be jealous. Hell, I am jealous of 2012 Erin right now. I could tell you that leading up to the trip we had a total sh*t year and we deserved it, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. We did have a horribly stressful year, but no one deserves luxury. We are lucky and blessed and insanely grateful. That’s it.).  I made a single goal for the trip: to read 10 books.

2 of the books I read were written by friends of mine (both worth a read, by the way).   It was in their reading that I realized something terrible about myself over the last decade. I was a pissed-off cranky reader.  I had stopped being generous, I had stopped enjoying the process.  It was because my friends were so like me that I was sent into a tailspin of insane jealousy. Like, so out-of-mind covetous. And it wasn’t just Megan and Anne, it was every author I ever read. I was, so effing sick with envy that I had suppressed my childhood insatiable desire for books. It wasn’t that I had been busy. It wasn’t the fear of real life being less real that fictional life. It wasn’t even the pages upon pages of research paper writing. It was pure raging, green as jade, gouge out my eyeballs, jealousy.

While reading a entirely different YA fiction and after the hundredth audible groan/sigh/growl by me, Mr. Man said, “Erin, what is your problem?” only kinder (he is always kinder than I report).

I responded, “I think I need to write a book.”

To which, he said, “Ok. Then why don’t you do it already.”

So, I started writing my thoughts in a moleskine journal. They were all over the place.  I knew I wanted to write about a teenager. I knew I didn’t want to write a dystopian novel (though i heart them muchos). And, that was about it.

I wrote at night and kept a google-doc open on multiple devices around the house, adding sentences here and there. In February I started writing one full day a week, thanks to my sister watching my kiddos. I made headway. I picked up more books to read. I feel back in love with reading.

And, frankly, if I never finish this novel, if it never makes its way into a stranger’s hands, if it just sits in my computer title-less, I will still be grateful. Because, I am trying, and I am writing, and it feels like breathing.

I loved words. I love to sing them and speak them and even now, I must admit, I have fallen into the joy of writing them

.Anne Rice

Stay tuned for How to Write a Novel // Part 2: My Tale of Finding a Character Worth Loving