Costco Haul: 001

If, like me, you find yourselves at Costco (far too) often, you know that there can be hidden gems amongst the bulk and seasonal items. 

Unfortunately, they seem to sell out quickly or leave the sales floor for seasons at a time (if they come back at all), so I thought this would be a fun little series featuring those Costco finds that almost immediately make their way into my cart.


- Moleskine Cahier journals. This six-pack sells for $19.99 at Costco and includes 1 grey, 1 blue, 1 red, 1 kraft brown, 1 green, and 1 black journal. Something similar is going for $48.95 via Amazon Prime, so this is definitely a steal for all my journal loving people.

- L'Oreal Voluminous Lash Paradise Mascara. A single tube of this glorious, drugstore mascara is $8.99 at Target, but Costco is currently offering a three-pack for $17.99! You're basically getting one free! Add to that the fact that most mascaras are only supposed to be used for three months and this three-pack practically has you covered for the whole year.

Oh! Did I mention it is also a well known dupe for the Too Faced Better Than Sex Mascara, whose standard size sells for $23 a tube? Buy this three-pack at Costco and you'll totally get your money's worth.

- HUE Perfect Fit Leggings. These leggings are available on for $36 each, but if you can make it out to a Costco or can order online, you can snag a 2-pack of these comfy leggings for $18.99. These super lightweight, just stretchy enough to feel comfortable without looking like pajama pants, wide waistband leggings are even opaque and would be great for lounging or layering. 

* If you are between sizes, you may want to size down. I purchased the XLs last week and they are comfy, but not fitted, so I'm keeping them for lounging around the house and picked up a size L set today to wear for errands and such.

Annnnnnd there you have it, folx--my first ever Costco haul. Let me know in the comments below what gems you've uncovered on Costco trips and I'll be sure to share whatever finds get me giddy in the future.


A summoning. Twenty-three.

1. He makes enough coffee for the both of us so these 4AM wake ups hurt a little less.

Just a little.

2. We're finally getting around to her senior portraits today. I'm not sure either of us are ready.

3. Tomorrow is the last final of the semester. I'm so ready.

4. I want to be here more. I think I've said that before. I know I have. But it is still true. Is anyone else moving back to blogging?

5. This could be a five things sort of deal. Or three. Maybe even seven. Let's just see, okay? Okay.

Five Things: A summoning. Twenty-Two.

1. Wracked with tears and realizations that came too late. 

2. the longer I am on facebook, the less I want to be there. 

But there are people showing up and conversations being held there that are valuable to me, so I stop by for them and leave the rest. 

3. I’m sorry. I want to show up more. 

4.  Vanilla caramel creamer and coffee at home. 

5. I’m so ready for summer vacation, but not the heat or college freshman orientation or all the things it will bring closer. 

Five things: a summoning. Twenty-one.

1. Graph the equation , the question reads and I am reminded, yet again, why I hate math.  

Also? Fractions suck ass.  

2. I’m the mom in the pick up queue bumping Biggie, and I don’t even care if it garners looks. If you don’t turn up 2Pac or Biggie when they come on the radio or up on the playlist, we can’t be friends.  

3. I’ve been crying daily. I don’t know if the world is crueler, if I am softer, if it’s a mixture of both, or if maybe I am just exhausted over all of it. In any case, it feels like my heart is an open wound, and I’m trying to figure out how to deal with the privilege of being able to feel this way. 

4. It feels like winter in SoCal, and I wonder if the Japan earthquake in 2011 adjusting the earth’s axis means it shifted what we know to be the cycle of seasons. So, maybe February is now the start of winter instead of December, and so on.

Maybe the combination of global warming and the shift is what is creating weather that seems unseasonable. 

5. Here. And isn’t that some sort of gift.  

Five things: a summoning. Twenty.

1-5. notice the riot of green spreading across the blacked earth. 

 Look, I say. The grass. It’s growing back.

He steals a glance and says, You know, I almost got some [blackened earth] for you on my way home yesterday, but I didn’t have a container. Next time. 

Aw !, I say, and our youngest asks, What? I tell him his Daddy was going to get me some dirt because loves me, and the look on his face is utter confusion. 

I tell him to marry a witch one day and he‘ll understand. 


Five things: a summoning. Nineteen.

1. I'm not sure whether or not being here is a sign of moving on or coping, and isn't that a fucking luxury.

2. I woke up at 5AM this morning, having forgotten to turn off my alarms, and let myself watch a movie on Netflix.

Things still feel hella heavy, but I'm trying to be aware of just how lucky I am to be here. To have my children safe under my roof. To not be in mourning.

3. Study runes.

4. I don't know what to say.

5. Maybe you don't, either?

Five things: a summoning. Eighteen.

1. I made my bed this morning as my children readied for school, and wept for the parents who had empty beds last night. 

2. I learned about ALICE—Alert. Lockdown. Inform. Counter. Evacuate.—today from this post, and openly wept at the gym.

Our children should not be sacrificial lambs.

3.  I commented The longer I live, the more I understand why people storm the castle, and I meant it. 

No one is coming to save us when lined pockets take precedence over lined coffins. So, my friend, we have to save each other.

4. As a parent, I promise my babies I’ll always keep them safe, but how do we do that when the entities put in place to ensure our safety turn the other way while gunshots ring out?  How do we do that when the entities put in place to ensure our safety gun us down in the streets while our schools become the stage for some sick fuck’s rage fantasy?

5. I am afraid. I am enraged. I am despondent.  


Five things: a summoning. Seventeen.

1. She stole my formatting, and then replied with some condescending nonsense that basically regurgitated what I had already shared.  

I wanted to reply Don’t come for me unless I call you, but tried being more tactful instead. 

I hope she read between the lines.  

2. Happy Gooey Hearts’ Day!

May today be but a reminder of how you are loved daily rather than the one day you feel loved.  

3.  Spaghetti for dinner, and I’m just not feeling it, you know? 

4. It was gloriously grey all day and now the sun is out. I wish it would’ve stayed away a little longer. 

5. Clothing designers really don’t design for curvy, petite women.  

Five things: a summoning. Sixteen.

1. It’s chilly today. The kind of chilly that makes us open all the windows in the house. The kind of chilly that feels like relief in our lungs. 

I don’t miss the sun.  

I often think we live/I was born in the wrong state.  

2. Fleur de sel caramels. Their perfect chewiness. The way they melt on my tongue.  

3. Eucalyptus in the shower. It scents the air and, if I’m being honest, just looks really pretty against the white tiles.  

4. Research projects in the school queue. I just started and already I’m ready to be graduated.  

5. Dear Universe, I would love to work in a local library or bookstore. Please help me make that happen.  

Five things: a summoning. Fifteen.

1. Is it weird to not want to wear pants? I feel like it is weird . . .  and, yet, it feels cathartic, too. 

2. He dances in the kitchen for me, then irons the boys’ clothes so I can sleep in a little longer tomorrow morning.

Acts of love.  

3. Playing Tooth Fairy, and wondering how long before he, too, stops believing.  

4.  Two loaves of banana bread with chunks of walnuts and salted butter, fresh from the oven. Warm water with lemon.

5. We stop to see the puppies again. I want that Saint Bernard, sweet little girl that she is.  

Five things: a summoning. Fourteen.

1. Grey skies and an open moonroof, my hand reaching for the mist. 

2. I walk in the door and he’s already insisting on making me something to eat.

He crisps the ciabatta perfectly.  

He always does. 

3. She looks so grown. My heart sort of hurts and soars.  

4. We can sit under light blankets and wear hoodies and have the windows open. This weather, it is glorious.  

5. Homework can wait. Right now, I just want to snuggle.  

Five things: a summoning. Thirteen.

1. I send him two photos. One of me and O looking sweet, the other of me and O trying to look creepy. He replies, I’m a lucky guy, and means it sincerely. 

There are so many levels to his amazingness.  

2. Having a history of disordered eating is one of the best and worst things I have ever done for myself.  

This realization struck me on the way to class. Funny how an empty car can clear space in one’s mind.  

3. Why aren’t jeans made in half sizes, too? 

Fourteens are too big, but twelves are just a little too tight.  

4. Nitro cold brew.  

5. I start my kinesiology lab tomorrow and find myself looking forward to getting back to running. Which is both surprising and a little confusing.  

Five things: a summoning. Twelve

1. I wander around aimlessly before a shower. Bare skin covered in ink.

I’m beginning to hate having to cover them with clothes. 

2. What do I need to know, I ask the cards.  Strength, they say. 

I don’t know if their answers come from me or the cosmic dust or some deity somewhere taking an interest in me, but I can tell you they always have the answers. 

Even if they aren’t ones I want. 

3. The perfect cup of tea. 

4. Long conversations and the hoarseness after. Worth it.

5. Standing in front of my Health 100 class to introduce myself and feeling like I was running a race, my heart was beating so fast.  

I really, really dislike public speaking.  

Five things: a summoning. Eleven.

1. When you’re a fixer and someone you love has a situation you can’t fix. That feeling. 

2. He says, I never hit her or got physical or anything like that, but I knew I needed help.  Everyone E meets has a story they want him to hear. I hope it helps them to get it off their chests.

3. Power moonroof. Because I can go without sunny days, but the moon? We’re involved.  

4. Love is a verb.  

5. I am lucky. I am lucky. I am lucky.  

Five things: a summoning. Ten.

1. I don’t show up Saturday. The day is long and the time is short, and I could guilt myself about it, but I want to be here because I want to and not because I feel obligated.  

I am not beholdened to my words—this is a partnership.

2. Stop. Think. Breathe.  

Reminder to self.  

3. I looked in the mirror and thought, I wish I could go out with no pants on

This is what healing looks like.  

4. Do you think other couples are like us?, I ask him. I hope there are; everyone should be this known.

5. That Lindsay Vonn commercial.


Five things: a summoning. Nine.

1. Tea. Warmed up twice. Because it's been that kind of morning.

2. One load of laundry washed, one folded and put away. It feels productive, even if it doesn't look it.

3. Writing a graduation letter to J as a parent participation assignment for her English class. Writing a poem to O for a parent valentine submission.

Tearing up. A lot.

4. Kinesiology orientation still to be done, but by the time I get all three Beasties to school and get to campus, I miss the top of the hour which means I miss the orientation time. Yet, somehow, I have to also find the time to visit at least twice a week over the next 17 weeks, and still make it to three in-class sessions for two other classes and be home in time to pick up the Beasties, help with homework, and get dinner done.

Someone remind me again why this lab is necessary?

5. Twos.

Five things: a summoning. Eight.

1. Long day. Long.  

2. O asks what I’m doing and I explain I’m blogging. He wants y’all to know he’s cute and fabulous and beautiful. 😂 

3. They read Llama Llama Red Pajama without me for his book report. When I read over what he wrote, the last line reads I like this book because my mom reads it to me before bed. My heart melts. 

4. Is it still ritual if all I do is keep the moon in my peripheral as I drive home?

I’m thinking yes. In this case, intention counts.

5. I wonder if there is a word for that feeling one experiences when showering after a long day. It’s like joy and relief and un-becoming all at once.  


Five things: a summoning. Seven.

1. I don't know that I'll ever tire of the moon. 

I thought I missed her slipping into something dark and crimson, but I didn't, and what a gift that was this morning.

2. Making small talk with the moms in the neighborhood after morning drop off. In the middle of the conversation I say, I just have to get this out of the way: I'm a feminist, and they both look at each other with a look of relief and reply We are, too. And I wonder if we were all holding our breath, wondering if maybe we couldn't be friends after all.

3. It's tank top weather here and there are no suitable tank tops in the stores. This irks me more than it should.

4. I sit in the queue, waiting for my oldest son, and thank the gods for the hotspot on my phone so I can blog (hi!), and do homework. Not in that order.

5. There are dead leaves still clinging to branches, and, yet, each day I notice more and more green everywhere. That vacant lot was dirt just a week ago and now it is covered grass that looks as soft as suede.