Check out my ball handling skills.

When professional basketball players go to take a jump shot they have to first set their feet before they can take the shot otherwise, they're likely to miss it. Doesn't matter how slick their ball handling skills are unless they have the proper footing for the shot. Building a foundations in my life is essential for me to be able to thrive. I relate to this in my yoga practice as well. If you don't have the proper footing, you can not work into the most difficult poses without falling out of them due to imbalance.

"Do you wish to be great? Then begin by being. Do you desire to construct a vast and lofty fabric? Think first about the foundations of humility. The higher your structure is to be, the deeper must be its foundation." - Saint Augustine

It may be a simple concept but one that I recently have given a lot of thought when making life decisions. For some, their foundation is their religion; it governs their lives, gives them answers to plaguing questions they have about life, for others it can be family relationships, being monetarily sound, or comfort in the familiar. In my late twenties I have really encouraged myself to figure out what my foundation truely is.

The core elements of my foundation are the following: Location, Fitness, Friendship, Mental/Emotional Stability, Humor.

This entry will touch on Location.

After graduating from TCU (GO FROGS!) in 2007, I followed a boyfriend to Boston. At the time, he was in his first year of dental school and I being a new graduate had the flexibility to move anywhere. I had always wanted to live in Boston so this move felt like a natural next step. I left all my college girlfriends and moved into a region where TCU ties were scarse at the time. With no job, direction, friends...my foundation was my boyfriend. Which I thought was totally okay considering our first date he told me he knew in his gut he had found his future wife in me...

 

Girls, especially girls at 22 do stupid things. I know, because I was one of them. At the time my thought was, he's 26, he's adult enough to handle the fact that I'll be a bit more dependent on him until I get settled in an figure out my career path. OMG, POOR BOY!! Now at 28, I can't think of a 26 year old male that is anywhere near that point of being able to handle the pressure of a needy, insecure new college graduate girlfriend. I became my own worst nightmare...the stage five clinger girlfriend who wanted to hang out with HIS guy friends so I would have friends too! "Friendship braceletts and mixed CDS for all!!"

This would not be the only time in my life that I made this mistake... allowing my boyfriend to be my foundation. I allowed it to happen when a different boyfriend called me hysterically crying after I was out of town for 4 days for work in New York. He flew out after trying to break up with me "due to the long distance" and then 48 hours later I find myself standing in Tiffany's in New York trying on engagement rings. An act that was founded in his insecurities about me having a job that gave me the flexibility to travel. All of a sudden, I felt pressure to make a decision - my dream position in a up and coming retailer or to chose "my future husband." Blinded by love, I made a career choice that included a brutal pay cut with a different retailer that had flexible hours enabling me to "be home more." And we moved in together under his roof on his dollar.

 FOR WHAT?! So I could be there to read lines with him every night, clean and do laundry. Oh and to wait up for him when he decided he would come home at night -- after hanging out with his "new friends" which consisted of a bunch of D-List celebrities til all hours of the morning.

Diamonds and fake proposals are dangerous little shits.

... now, I'm still living in California (one of my foundation goals since college), in a place that is safe, central to most aspects of my life and near my work with a grounded couple for roommates (that alone kept me relatively grounded when I wanted to go buckwild post break up.)

Never again will I be choosing my living situation (or work situation) based on a guy. I have spoken with alot of my girlfriends who enable their boyfriends careers, wants and aspirations to dedicate where they live. Sometimes it works out, but remember, being a supportive girlfriend doesn't mean you give up your life - needs, wants and aspirations just because you want to gain points for being supportive. My location now has me surrounded my 10 + incredible women who I can call up anytime. Who are my core strength and a pillar of support that will not fail me. I have a stable job that enables me to live without having a boyfriend who's waving dollars over my head to gain power in the relationship and I can live freely to do whatever I need to continue to build my personal foundation.

"Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familir, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all if the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous." - Sex in the City.

xx -

Steph

Drop down and get your eagle on.

 

Alot of the time we are caught up in how far we aren't going rather than allowing ourselves to remain in the present moment... This thought is founded from my daily yoga practice from today.

As yogi's we are encouraged to focus on clearing our minds, controling our breath, deepening and strengthening each pose, and to the dedication of our practice - enabling us to open our hearts. We learn to let go of the past, to not fret about the future and to live in the present moment.

By all means, I have to agree that especially for someone like myself who is goal-oriented, impatient and ambitious this is the greatest struggle for me. I am competitive with myself especially in my yoga practice. This allows me to be highly focused in a class and to deepen poses and gain muscle mass which aesthetically and mobility wise, I am pleased with. Now, I'm onto the next phase of my practice which is to apply the teachings to my life.

Like most 28 year old females I feel the pressure from family to "find someone and settle down," "find the most profittable profession so I can begin saving," "consider freezing my eggs in case I want children"; there's quite a bit of added pressure to not only be a top dog financially, physically, and to have an equal counterpart who wants to procreate with me.

WAIT. STOP.

This is the first time in my entire life where I am completely self aware, able to look at life objectively and appreciate who I have become as a woman. I think so many women feel pressured into marriage and babies (not all or the majority, but there are some) before they even know their true selves. I too have dated guys in the past and "tried to be the right type of woman for them." LADIES, why do we do this? It's so completely unattractive to have someone who doesn't challenge you, encourage you to be your own person and who is attempting to mold you into the type of person they think they want rather than accepting you. HOWEVER, before you shake fingers at the males, ladies, we're the ones who allow them to do so.

If a relationship no longer serves it's purpose of making you happy - LEAVE. I assure you, there will be some one who treats you better in the horizon.
 
If you feel overweight, hate your job or the town you live in; explore what activities you can do to better yourself and your situation, adjust your attitude, it's the only thing you have power to change no matter the circumstance. - Don't be a stagnant person.

Don't have the perfect boyfriend or husband? STOP LOOKING. Allow the person you want to end up with to fall inlove with you when you are your best version of yourself. If they don't find you, it won't matter because you'll be so pleased with yourself to notice.

When women stop competing with each other and support, love and befriend each other it makes being single the perfect place to be.

Work wise? Yes, I have varying interests, would love to be more financially sound and to have a high powered position (as I have always managed people) however, careers, take time to grow and develop like that of my daily yoga practice, a marriage, or raising a child.

Rather than beating yourself up over "where you AREN'T," appreciate where and who you are at this very moment. You'll never be in this moment again. It's alot easier to handle disappointments when you stop projecting expectations outside of what you can control. Meet every challenge with peace and positivity and watch who wants to be around you rather than who you have to seek out.

Fighting the good fight with y'all,

Ohm.

Steph

The Best Man I've Ever Known. - Dave Sherwood

Happy Father's Day to the greatest man I've ever known. Dave Sherwood.

First, some background on my dad. Dave Sherwood is from Clark, South Dakota, a town of 1,000 people; mostly potato farmers. My grandfather Stephan Dewitt "SD" Sherwood was the only Lawyer in the town, my grandmother Mavis Augusta (seriously, what baby is named that. Sorry Grandma) having an 8th grade education and 3 children: David, Steven and Shelly. My dad, the oldest of three, was a bit of a rebel. Long hair (don't care), lead singer of a rock band, wrestling Varsity in High School, was determined to get the hell out of Clark as soon as possible. After a couple failed attempts at the straight and narrow, dad put himself through college working nights at The Holiday Inn. He would eat off of food trays from room service to survive. After graduation, made his way down to Tucson, Az prompted from seeing a post card at the Black Hills State University gift shop. My dad and his hippie wife at the time road tripped it down to Tucson and he started working as a loan officer at Pima Savings (where he later met my mom - oh heyyyyy giirlllll). After both first marriages for my parents sizzled out, dad was waiting at the finish line to snag my mom.

3 years of dating and a golden retriever later, Dad and mom got married in Sedona, Arizona with only a pastor and a witness present. Dad wore a mustache and a light blue suit with a vest that didn't button over his little belly. Mom wore a silk puffy blouse, brown Farrah Fawcett locks and a maroon high waisted skirt. Talk about some gems.

At 33, my dad was now working as a young stock broker, married to my mom with a baby on the way when he drove himself to the hospital for having sharp chest pains. My dad had to under go open heart surgery. "The likelihood that he will live long enough to know his daughter into adulthood is slim" said the doctors and my mom prepared herself for the possibility of being a single mom. Now, providing a private school education through college for his only daughter, a house in Cobblestone, a vacation home in Pinetop (which my mom gutted and remodeled to her liking), several luxury vehicles and funding for girls chorus tours to the UK, Canada, Germany and school trips to the British Virgin Islands, Italy and Alaska... I'm sure financially, this was not what he had planned on. My dad has solely provided for my mom, me and my two grand mothers a life that was close to royalty. He's not a "man's man" in the sense that he doesn't drink, play golf (anymore due to a competitive fit that ended with the clubs in the bottom of a lake), and after having open heart surgery at 33 is not a cigar smoker. As he says "I would be a hermit if it wasn't for your mother." I call b.s. on that due to the fact that he befriends every one at the supermarket, the dry cleaners and every restuarant server/manager of my parents favorite places to eat.

Growing up, my mom did very minimal cooking. Dad would either pick up dinner or we would go out to eat so that's where my expensive taste in food and lack of cooking skills comes from. I'm not complaining, mom is great in the kitchen during holidays, but she busies herself cleaning every inch of the house... so eatting out saved her from doing dishes.

Every saturday morning, dad and I would go run errands. Dry cleaners, dad's office, grocery store, and if "I was good," Toys R Us or to see the puppies at the Humane Society. Several Nano pets, polly pockets and "little Pet Shop" toys later, I was more interested in finding us the perfect pet. Our golden retreiver Sam had been banned to the back yard due to a sheading problem that didn't fit my mom's needs for cleanliness and I was determined to "have a little dog I can hold." That's when we found "Lady." I can't tell you how utterly ridiculous it is that while I'm typing her name my eyes fill up with tears. The Sherwoods LOVED Lady. But, that didn't happen until Dad and I did some convincing. Fast forward 7 years, Lady lived in the house, howling like a coyote on the couch with Dad, propping up next to him for hours to watch football. Lady loved being rubbed as much as mom does, so they bonded over that and I had a dog that slept between my legs at night, explored the desert with me and would run alongside as I rode my bike around the neighborhood. Lady had alot of health problems. Twisted rib cage, enlarged heart, valley fever... after thousands of dollars were but into the health and maintenance of this dog my dad asked my mom "how much money are you willing to put into this dog?" My mom's dead face response "A million dollars." So, Lady was coined the Million Dog. This is one example of Dad doing whatever it takes to "keep his girls happy."

At my Cotillion, dad and I had so much fun goofing off during ball room dancing rehearsals that by the time we got to the ball, we made it up as we went along. "Don't worry Steph, your debutante dress is big enough that no one will see our feet, just follow my lead."

My dad is the one I call if I'm injured: "Dad, I don't want to alarm you but I just burnt the hell out of my hand and I'm driving myself to the emergency room." Dad is the one I call for the level-headed response post-break up, if I've needed help financially (Dad, I have a dollar to my name and I just bought a piece of gum so I may be overdrawn, please help), or if I want to tell him about a work related event that I'm proud of. My dad is THE WORST to take a guy home to because he will welcome any guy I bring to my door with open arms. This is just heartbreaking when you realize the guys you bring home don't measure up anywhere close to your dad. No boyfriend I have ever brought home has agreed to my dad's mentality of "whatever the girls want is fine by me." He wants so badly for me and my mom to be happy. I know if he could go out himself and find the guy most like him, he would. Unfortunately, like my dad, I'm stubborn, so I wouldnt give him the time of day anyways. My dad is a Virgo and I have dated FOUR Virgos since college thinking they would be like my dad. Boy, was I wrong. I have come to learn that my dad is by far the best out there, and a very special type of Virgo. Best dad, best husband, best pet owner and my biggest supporter (tied with mom of course).

Dave Sherwood is loud, highly opinionated, extremist, confident, conservative, funny, goofy, loveable and my twin. We look alike, we're both boardline lunatics with the activities we do and we're not afraid to voice our opinions on anything. We both like to take control of situations, be the center of attention and have the best story...basically you either love us or roll your eyes at us. Through and through he is my father and I can't imagine what life would be like without his nods of approvals for my outfits, his scoldings of my poor spending habits or his unlimited amount of love, patience and support. I'm so grateful to know him, have him on my team and be there for my mom everyday. If I never have a husband like him, I will know that I witnessed true love between my dad and mom and I don't know many people who can say that about their parents. He has stood by her, been there through thick and thin and treats his wife how every wife should be treated.

I love you, Dad.  Happy Father's Day to the best man I'll ever know.

Snuf.

Always Be My Bay-Bay.

My favorite dating story to tell was when I was in 5th grade at Armstrong Academy in Tucson, Arizona. At the time, I had alot of crushes on boys in my class or boys who I was "determined to date/marry" (Jonathon Taylor Thomas) but I never had a boy that I can remember who really "liked" me until Oli.

From what I was told back in 5th grade, Oliver had stayed home sick one day from school and phoned into a controversial/edgy rock station to find out "How to ask out the cute girl at his school." The radio show "THE HOG," could be compared to Howard Stern's show and frequently discussed the taboo, touching on vulger and scandalous topics. Oliver's request struck a cord with these "Bad boy DJ's" and that's when Oliver's troubles began.

The DJ's decided to call Armstrong Academy requesting that Stephanie Sherwood come to the phone because they had a caller on the air who wanted to ask her a question. The secretary hearing that two grown men were calling for a fifth grade student during class hours refused the phone call and notified our Principal. They proceeded to call my home, speak to my Grandmother "Birdie" who simply explained "Stephanie can't come to the phone right now, she's at school."

The DJ's had offered a magical first date for myself and Oli. We were to be picked up by limo, shuttled to dinner and a movie of our choice and then Oli was to report back to the DJ's "about how the date went." Trouble was, my principal heard all of this and immediately got on the air requesting that the radio footage be removed from the taping and for Oliver to publicly apologize for putting myself, my family and the school "in danger."

They agreed apon me being called into the principal's office with Oliver so he could explain what he did and formally apologize to me. I was called into the principals office... 50 lbs of little Steph Sherwood with braces and overalls panicing over what I could have done to be in such a terrible predictament. "THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE? Ohhhh man, mom and dad are going to be soooo mad."

I sat down across from this tall and handsome 6th grade boy who was easily three feet taller than me. His head was down, his knees glued together in his short 90's style shorts and graphic tshirt; fingers tightly crossed. Immediately, Principal Armstrong said "Stephanie, this boy has an apology for you." He told me nervously without eye contact that he had called the radio station to figure out how to ask me to be his girlfriend and that it "got out of hand" and he was so very sorry. Restraining every bit of adoration I had for this poor guy's attempt to take me on what sounded like a really fun first date I accepted his apology AND to my principal's surprise...his request to be my boyfriend.

Oliver and I "were together" for that school year until we split to go to different middle school's. I used to sing in the car with mom to Mariah Carrey, "You'll always be my Bay-bay," thinking of my time with Oli and reminiscing about the year at Armstrong. I was the only one in 5th grade who had a "serious boyfriend" and felt maybe it was too soon to go "long distance" at different schools. My mother cried...no, she SOBBED when I broke up with Oli and for a minute... for weeks, months, years... I thought that she might never forgive me for "ending it."

Now Oliver is a successful photographer in New York shooting all over the world and appearing at every music and arts festival. He's full of life, spunk and one of the greatest people I know. Who knew I would have had it so good had my middle school priorities not been "so twisted."

 

:)

Xo - Steph

DATE ME...if you want to be FAMOUS.

Let me preface this post by saying this is not a Taylor Swift style bashing of the exes; it is merely a post that will make any other girl high five themselves that they don't have to date in LA.

People say you can not fall inlove in LA, I say, quite the contrary! You can fall inlove with just about anyone for about 30 seconds. What the challenge in a city of Actors, Models, Entrepreneurs, Rockstars, Porn Stars, Managers, is you really never know what you're actually signing up for... especially when you start dating someone.

I am a hopeless romantic. I have grown up watching my parents be absolutely inseperable. I distinctly remember sitting with my dad to gloat over how stunning my mother was for every gala, Angel/Heart ball or black tie event they attended in the late 80's/early 90's. My dad would say, "Here comes my trophy wife!" To this day, 30 plus years later, my dad will still go for a butt pinch in public, talk about how sexy and amazing my mom is and he can still make her giggle like a teenager. My parents were placed on this earth as versions of the same person and my life long challenge has been to mirror the type of relationship they have.

Here's the first problem. I am an only child, a daddy's girl and shamelessly outgoing. So when you grow up being the loudest laugh, the president of every club, the lead roles in the musicals and having a very charmed up bringing, not only is it difficult to find those similiarities in another person... it's made for quite the stories. As my friend Rocky always says "Well, at least you've never dated anyone boring." Ain't that the truth.

My first taste of the LA dating scene was with a guy who wasn't even living in LA at the time. I had really celebrated myself  for "how cool" I played it with this guy. We were long distance (which is a constant running joke with my guyfriends since every relationship post college I've had has begun with a guy in another state); him living in Southern California and me at the time living in Arizona. It was a newer relationship, I thought he was cute "but not too cute" like my past boyfriends. He was charming, funny, quirky, had great taste in music, also! we have mutual friends and he lived in a state I was being promoted to in a matter of months.  The Holy Grail? I thought so.

A couple weeks into my move to LA, I'm texting with him about when we would see each other now only being 2-3 hours apart. We threw around a couple weekends (which of course I'm acting super passive about because I actually WANT to see him so of course, I have to appear disinterested.) Come valentines day, about a month into my move I get a text from him that he's going to be in LA the following weekend. In my head I'm celebrating with sweet dance moves and firework explosions... my text response is "Oh, sweet. Maybe we'll grab a drink one night." And then it began.

He texted me to let me know he was picked for a popular dating reality tv show and that the filming started the weekend he was here. I clearly wished him the best of luck and then went for a run that could have qualified me for world record timing had I been keeping track. So, twice a week for a couple months I was able to watch this guy date another woman, profess his love for her and eventually propose to her to be REJECTED. My first thought was... KARMA! AND THEN? he was on the next season as the token male.

I found this out from my best friend in Arizona while on a hike with my most recent television personality ex-boyfriend. So, thankfully, I did not have to painfully sit through the second season because I was *sigh* inlove and without a care in the world running the beach with who I thought was my future husband.

Fast forward, 8 months into our relationship, my new guy landed a spot on a soap opera. What I have come to learn about guys in the industry, especially ones who are attractive is that they tend to become puppets to their managers; brutally self absorbed and every story starts with who they're "now friends with" or how many followers they have on twitter.

In a matter of 4 months, I watched my (now ex) boyfriend lock lips, undress and marry a girl on television who was barely 21, abandon his friends and business partners who were not in the industry and I was told by his "management team" that I was no longer allowed to be associated with him. Basically, I can sum it up in a few quotes: "Stephanie, he needs to appear available to his fans;" "I don't think you're strong enough to date a celebrity;" and my favorite one "If you really love him, you'll disappear."

Now this "celebrity" is co-leasing an AUDI R8, has been killed off the show and is an online host for a web channel I didn't even know existed. Moral of the story is, you can't judge a book (or a man) by its cover here in LA. They're FULL of surprises. Surprises come in forms of a lack of character, surprise religions, children in other countries and debilitating gambling addictions... let's just say, you're girl knows how to pick 'em. 

So, the question is, what is the armor against these LA guys?! No final roses or magic potions here, my friend. But I will say being surrounded by selfish playboys with hidden agendas makes it really easy to focus on career and have the most AMAZING group of girlfriends. My girls are the best support system I've ever had outside of my immediate family.

So, LA ladies, put away the pitchforks, just keep your priorities in check, because lord knows in this city for the ambitious male? You aren't even close to being one.

So hold out, put on your dancing shoes, love on your girls, because if you love yourself and support your girlfriends, it doesn't matter at the end of the day if you have a guy on speed dial.

XO- Steph.

           

Use Your Words.

The Welcoming Committee

The Welcoming Committee

 

When I first moved to Los Angeles, CA in January 2011, I wasn't sure what to expect. The only time I had ever visited the city was the week prior to moving here to find a place to live, and I was very uncertain as to what my new life would be like. I was grateful that a friend from my hometown was vacating her one bedroom in Beverly Hills and I was able to take over her lease on such short notice. Knowing that I had a residence secured, I was anxious to see what my first day on the job in my new city would be like.

Being promoted out of Arizona to Co-General Manage a retail location at The Grove I was eager to establish rapport with my staff and run my store as I had run stores in Boston and Arizona... with enthusiasm that was aspirational and motivating. What I learned about LA on my first night was, in this city, the standard rules "need not apply" to certain residents.  

I was notified minutes into my first shift that we would have a "special shopper" who would need special accommodations and security. Not having been trained in this, I rang the head of security for the center and asked for him to advise me on what I would need to do to ensure the guest had privacy while shopping in my store. We roped off the third floor of the store which is the children's level and I requested my new assistant to pull the most professional, poised and mature members of our staff to assist us with the customer's store experience.

We received the call from his assistant that he and his family had arrived and security of The Grove escorted him and his family through the swarms of paparazzi into our private entrance, up to the third level, where myself and my new staff were waiting to greet them. Being a day old to living and working in LA, I wasn't sure how a celebrity would treat my staff, what the proper greeting was or how to insure they had enough privacy while attending to their needs...so when the elevator opened I had my first real life movie moment of watching the one and only Johnny Depp stroll towards me (in what seemed like slow motion) with two beautiful, eager, excited children leading the way into the store. He had just finished filming one of the Pirates of the Carribean movies and his teeth were capped with gold and black crowns. He grinned warmly exposing his dental work and immediately gave me an open arm hug to express his gratitude like I was a long lost friend.

Half an hour into his precious daughter modeling every article of clothing on the kids level to get our approval, Johnny requested if there was a location "where he may light up a smoke" without being bothered by the papparazzi. I looked at the security guard, who simply said, "only place to go is up." Moments later, I'm standing on the top of The Grove with Johnny Depp as he worked his way through a smoke while repeatedly thanking me for making accommodations for him and his family. The conversation begin with "So Steph, I hear this is your first night in LA, I hope you don't mind that I came to personally welcome you and I hope we haven't been too much trouble." As I'm standing looking out onto the rest of The Grove from the clock tower next to Johnny Depp and security I thought well, I guess this is one way to start my adventure. I responded to Johnny by saying, "You have excellent timing, the day hasn't been a disappointment by any means." After two hours of playing dress up, Johnny's daughter left with armfuls of shopping bags requesting that I employ her when she was of age and gifting hugs to every member of our staff. Johnny followed suit by thanking every staff member with hugs, kisses on the cheek, compliments and countless "Thank you's."

His assistant left us with cash to distribute to each of the staff members who had assisted with the visit and then they disappeared through the back way confusing the papparazzi and maintaining their sense of privacy. On my drive home after a long first night full of excitement, I thought about how rare it was to have the opportunity to spend that sort of intimate time with such a well known celebrity my first night in the City of Angels. I parked, exited my vehicle and began my walk up to the extended stay my company was housing me at.

Worn out, with little to no make up left on my face from the day, hair tied back and "bundled up" to cope with the LA winter, I was not in any form to be seen by anyone I knew. As I walk closer to my building, I see lights, cameras, waredrobe and a crew busily running around the facility. And then there he was, Jay Leno was sitted on the steps to my building and all that came out of my mouth upon locking eyes with him was "Well, what are YOU doing here?" His response was "I just wanted to insure you made it home safe and had a nice night."

As any proud tourist would, that evening I immediately posted my photos with "my new friends" with the caption "It was so nice of Johnny and Jay to welcome me to LA." The next day at church, my parents were approached by our "mutual friends" on Facebook inquiring about my seemingly "close relationship" with Johnny and Jay. You can imagine the confusion on my parents face's as this was the first time they had ever been approached in regards to their daughter's friendship status with A-List celebrities. 

Since this night, I have met, dined and shared venues with more celebrities than I can count for and the "Magic of Hollywood," celebrities and stardom, have lost its glimmer. However, I will always remember that night and laugh at the fact that the people of my parents church thought I had a "Welcoming Committee" of Johnny Depp and Jay Leno, where I am simply an Arizona girl who was running a retail store at The Grove in Los Angeles.   

"Shopper to the Stars,"

OoXx,

Steph.

How to find the right Drug Dealer in Los Angeles.

                                       ...DRUG DEALER?!  

Yeah... I'm actually completely useless in that department. However, something us CAL-EE-FORR-NI-YANS are addicted to is YOGA.

I started practicing yoga when I lived in Venice, CA (shock) at EXHALE but didn't catch the yoga bug to the extreme I have now until I moved to Miracle Mile and started practicing at Moksha Yoga on La Brea. Upon my move to the area, a $40 first month special caught my eye and then ....captured my heart. (awww) 

At the time, I was coming out of my first serious relationship in LA needing to quickly adjust to my new area of town and craving an outlet for anger I was harboring from the failed relationship.

I walked into my first Moksha class, a frail and strunken version of my normal self. After coping with months of stress; grasping onto a relationship that died due to "my inability to handle dating a celebrity," I needed something substantial to get me back to my core self and to a state of happiness.

Rather than drinking my weight in booze to numb the pain, I turned to rebuilding my strength-- emotionally, mentally, and physically. Almost immediately when I laid down in the heated environment, I felt slightly more at peace. Somehow every thing the Yoga Teacher said resonated with me and I realized I had found the next best thing to therapy. Anytime that I felt like I was harboring anger, wanted to soak my pillow in tears or drown myself in wine, I went to yoga. Sometimes two, even three times a day.

I can't express how grateful I am to the family I feel I have at Moksha Yoga. I am a happier, more confident, stronger version of the Steph I was walking into class in September 2012. Moksha practice has not only become my favorite activity but I am focused, centered and have more self respect through my practice and mediation than I have in years.

I highly encourage anyone who is having a difficult time managing stress, conflict and/or depression to attend a Moksha Yoga class. There's only one in LA on La Brea but there's locations all over and worth doing the research. Honestly, any type of yoga encourages daily self practice, promotes core strength and mediatation.

I close with this: "Breathing in, I calm my body. Breathing out, I smile. Dwelling in the present moment, I know this is a wonderful moment."

Until we meet again, may you achieve inner peace and a great set of buns.

OoXx.

Steph

Let's GET NAKED!

 

As a woman in my late (ugh) twenties, I can say that I'm totally comfortable being naked. Frankly, I'm most comfortable being over-exposed.

With social media being such a large part of our lives, some would say we're over-saturated with information about each other. Frankly, I adore it, #cantstopwontstop and I want to share, learn, laugh and love more with all of you and at myself. Life is too short to do otherwise.

Perhaps "Stephie-TV" (72 hours of home footage of me from womb to 6th grade) is to blame or the fact that I'm a shamelessly extroverted only child. (Go ahead and "booo", I find myself obnoxious at times too.) 

      

 

I'm not an actor, a reality star or any sort of celebrity... although I've dated all three. Feel free to add con-artists; male models and trust-fund babies to my list of specialities. And I wonder how on EARTH I haven't found the right guy.   

I'm a girl who was raised in Tucson, AZ; went to University in Fort Worth, Texas (GO FROGS!!); followed a boy to Boston; launched my career in Mesa/Tempe/Scottsdale; finally landing in LA. I like to be candid with my feelings and experiences. We're all in this world together and even though we are considered "over exposed" I think finding people who are honest and real with themselves and others is a rarity.

Sooooo Welcome to My Blog!!

I hope you are able to get a little something out of my past and present experiences with dating (let the horror stories begin), the comedy in my encounters or generally how completely ridiculous I am and find it relateable.

I'm sorry, there won't be any recipes for organic ketchup or glamourous photos of my perfect children and dashing husband on swings... and I promise to have less images of me in photo booths.

Until we meet again,

OoXx,

Big Hug, Little Hug, Big Kiss, Little Kiss.

Steph.