Recently I was approached by a talent scout and signed with a talent management agency.

Yep. I am now an official part time model.

If you are not a Flight of the Concords fan, you may not fully appreciate this video, but it makes me laugh. Since I don’t take myself too seriously, I can’t help but feel like it was written just for me.

Part Time Model

To see some of my pictures click HERE

To inquire about booking me, contact my agency.

Urban Talent Management

http://www.urbantalent.com/

Part Time Model

Let’s be honest, dating sucks. Especially in the beginning. The bombardment of get-to-know-you questions can be overwhelming to say the least. Nothing drives this point home quite so much as a first date with someone who is dead set on finding out what really makes you tick.

Let’s set the scene, shall we? I am on a first date with “Guy”. He is dropping me off at my car and we are sitting in his SUV chatting.

Guy: “How long ago did you and your ex break up.”

Me: “Oh…hmmm…we broke up last May.”

Guy: “So it’s been over six months now. What went wrong there? Why did you two break up?”

Me: “Well, let’s see…ummmm, I guess we had a lot of communication issues? I mean he is a GREAT guy, but very hard to be in a relationship with. Yeah…so, um, how about you? How long ago did you and your ex break up?”

Guy:  “It’s been just over a year. I think I spent the first four months being pissed at her. Then I switched the blame to me and accepted my role in things and it was amazing. As soon as I could let go of my anger I was able to get over things.”

Me: “I know what you mean. I spent the first several months feeling hurt and rejected. I thought that once I left he would realize what he was losing and want me back. But he never did.”

Guy: “Yes but that’s good, right? I mean besides your ego being hurt, isn’t it better that there wasn’t the back and forth and further toying with emotions?”

Me: “Yes….I suppose you have a good point. And just like in your case, as soon as I accepted my role in everything it was easier to let go and start to move on. We had communication issues from the very first date, I just chose to ignore them.. He was always the same person. It was never fair for me to expect him to magically know what to do or to say the right things. So that was on me. I should have known better.”

Guy: “I can see this is still a little fresh for you.”

Me: “Yeah… I guess it kind of is.”

Our date ended with a short hug goodnight. I don’t think he’ll be asking me out again anytime soon.

I would like to believe that I have moved on. I would like to believe that I no longer miss him. For the most part I can shove his memory far enough into the back of my mind that I don’t think of him. But every once in awhile, I find myself on a road trip with nothing but contemplative time, and I admit out loud to myself and the passengers in the car that I still hurt. Or I find myself on an interrogation of a date where no matter how cooly I try to play it, a stranger can see in my eyes that I am still not quite over my broken heart.

That said, this post is not meant to be a lament to missing my ex, nor is it necessarily about first dates. All of that is simply a build up to the conclusion I have come to. This post is about time.

On a work trip to L.A., I woke abruptly in the middle of the night, alone, in a hotel room. I was wide awake with one piercing thought running through my head. I couldn’t stop tossing and turning, rolling this thought over and over in my mind. Finally, in defeat, I turned on the light and scribbled it down on the notepad beside the bed.

Sleeping in the middle of the bed takes time.
Go back to bed and try again.

Time is everything. It takes time to learn how to enjoy being single again. It takes time to mend a broken heart. It takes time to remember how to trust. It takes time to love again.

I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that I believe in time. We shouldn’t take it for granted, like it will always be there, but I do think we should trust in it’s healing powers. We can’t rush the process. We have to take it one day at a time. Pretty soon the right time will come and we won’t have to question it – we will just know, our hearts will feel it. Until then, we have to be patient. We have to be patient with our hearts, the healing process, and love. Love will find us again when we have let go of all of the hurt, bitterness and fear that we cling to as if it will be the thing to save us. It won’t save us, only time will. The sooner we accept this, the better of we’ll be. That is the purpose of this post. To simply say that I have accepted time, with all of it’s flaws and blatant disregard to my own personal timeline, it is the only thing I am putting my trust in.

Until the day when get-to-know-you questions do not unearth emotional wounds and I have mastered how to sleep in the middle of the bed, I trust time.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Dating debating, sometimes I get on a soap box

As I approach the end of my dating hiatus (which I have stuck to…almost completely), I am hesitant to dip my toes back into the dating water.

Am I ready?

No.

Will I ever be ready?

No.

This single time in my life has been anything but dull. I have enjoyed the shit out of it. I dare say this has been one of the most fun summers of my life! If you were to follow my life via Instagram, Twitter or Facebook, you would think my life is one giant vacation, and it has been, interrupted only by a job that I love. I have amazing friends and have had the opportunity to travel, camp, boat, hike, go to several concerts, and fly on a private jet (yeah, still taking that one in too!). In short, I haven’t been home lamenting being single, I’ve been embracing it in all it’s glory!

Recently a new male friend of mine made an offhanded comment over text message that he was sure many men have tried to “tame me” and they had lost.

Tame me?

What an interesting choice of words. I have been mulling and toying with these words over and over for some time now. Tame…me?

After my breakup with Cute I felt there must be something wrong with me. Then, when I saw that my boyfriend before Cute, ED, had gotten married and had a new family, I felt even more convinced that the problem lied in me. I mean, it’s hard not to feel that way when you see another woman able to make a relationship work with the man that you couldn’t.

The thought that perhaps the men of my past were not strong willed and dedicated enough to tame me hadn’t really occurred. I known that the right man has not come into my life,  I’ve just never really known why the men of my past were not that right man. I thought they were the right man at the time, that was why I was dating them. In the end they let me go, regardless of who dumped who – they could not hold onto me. I was too much work, too intimidating, too wild(?) to be tamed.

(I sound like a wild mustang. Maybe that’s why as a little girl I always thought I’d marry a cowboy.)

In all fairness, the friend who made the taming comment is a new friend. He has only seen fun-loving single Summer who went to Vegas three times within a six week period, who likes to stay up late, push the limits and dance at the clubs. His view as to why I may be hard to tame is different from mine. To him I look like a party girl. Hell, I am a bit of a party girl – especially after a breakup. But the real reason I think men have failed to tame me is because I require a lot. You must make me laugh, be a good listener, challenge me mentally, adore me, attract me, support my career, have a career of your own, love adventure, be fully committed to me, hold me when I cry, and be patient enough to fight through the non-communicative shell I resort to whenever I am upset.

Simple, right?

My hesitation in dating again is that I’ll just find more of the same caliber of men that I have spent my whole life dating. 90% of them were not bad guys – they just lacked one or more of the above mentioned traits and the sticking power/gumption needed to keep me.

I have my faults, my quirks, my wild side, my stubborn side. But for all of the negatives of me, I am also a pretty fabulous person. I give selflessly, love passionately, support unabashedly, laugh freely, cook creatively, drink sailor-y, and share fully.

I have a lot to give. I’m just hoping there is still someone out there worth giving it to, someone who is not just looking for a good time, someone who is actually looking to build a future.

Tame me? If only someone would.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Dating debating

Now that I am officially on a dating hiatus, I’d like to take a moment to revel in the complete awesomeness that is single life.

Right now I am sitting on my back porch. It is lit up with Christmas lights, the type that hang down to resemble icicles. I put them up for a housewarming party and never took them down because they look so perfect in my adorable little back yard.  It is night. The crickets are chirping freakishly loud. My cat is sitting on the porch on the lookout for trespassing bugs or varmints. The night is warm. I am sitting at a small patio table wearing a tanktop and panties. From my kitchen a shuffle mix of my favorite music is blaring out at me.

Tonight I went to the gym, came home, watered the lawn and cooked myself a lovely dinner of pork chops, zucchini and sliced tomatoes. I have had a little over a half a bottle of an equally lovely white wine. After dinner I danced in my room while putting away laundry. I wore my ultra girly pink gloves while doing the dishes. I gave myself my nightly facial and I am feeling relaxed.

Being single has it’s completely wonderful moments. Tonight is one of them. I am alone. I am happy. I am not judging myself for being alone. I am at peace.

I’ll be honest. There has been a few times throughout the night that I’ve wondered if I should text one of my cute neighbors to come over and help me drink my wine. But then I rubbed Bengay on my sore knees and realize that if they came over not only would I have to put on pants but I’d have to not smell like an old folks home. WAY too much work.

Right now I am wondering why in the world I have been trying so hard to stay busy. Just chilling out at home is awesome. I think it has finally occurred to me why people choose to stay single. It’s because being self-sufficient and selfish is great. I mean, really, really great. I am not trying to please anyone but myself. I am doing exactly what I want to be doing. I am taking care of my own needs and I am not the least bit bitter about it.

Last night was not as quite as great. I worked until 8. Went to the gym and got home around 9:30. The relationship-me remembered when I used to go to school at night. I would walk up to my relationship-house smelling homemade food. I would enter the house to find a plate of delicious food, a glass of wine and a giant hug and kiss from an oh so pleased with himself man.

It was nice to be taken care of.

But now things are different. I have a new peace. I have crickets. I have an almost full moon. I have my little backyard with it’s charming lights. I have my favorite music playing, my cat keeping guard, and a now mostly empty bottle of lovely white wine. I am not thinking of my next date. I have no plans for the weekend to entertain anyone but myself. I am not drinking to forget – I am drinking for no other reason than because it behoves me to do so.

These beautiful single moments will not last forever. Sooner or later I’ll find myself back on the dating wagon. So for right now, I am going to enjoy the hell out of living for only me. Life is beautiful. Sitting here pantsless, smelling like Bengay, wine and pork chops is priceless. Not necessarily sexy, but it is a single moment meant just for me.

I am happy.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Dating debating, Just me

A long time ago I realized that my tolerance for crazy is steadily becoming more and more limited. I can put up with a lot – I’m a very patient person – but even patient people have a breaking point. When I am pushed to my breaking point I have learned how to say “enough is enough” and sever all ties.

When I say “crazy” I am not referring to that one friend who happens to get drunk and act crazy every once in awhile, or even that friend who always seems to have drama swirling around them. No, I am referring to a person who enters your life who at first seems pretty normal. Sure they are a little quirky, but you think it’s part of their charm. Then slowly they start saying things that make you scratch your head and think “that sounds a little crazy to me”. Next they start telling lies, seeing things that are not there, fabricating stories or coming up with reasoning that only make sense to them. Soon they start freaking out over nothing, starting fights, acting irrational and basically confirming your theory that they are, in fact, certifiably CRAZY. Depending on the severity of crazy, this may or may not come along with war texting, jealousy, dependency, manipulation, name calling followed by profuse apologies, unexpected visits, and overall fear for your safety.

I don’t know how or why crazy people enter my life. Perhaps they are drawn to me because I tend to see the best in everyone and trust people entirely too easily. Over the years I’ve had to distanced myself from a lot of great friends with tremendous hearts who happen to have a huge screw loose in their head. It can be difficult, but I have a “no crazy people allowed” rule that I live by for the sake of my own sanity.

I’ve only come across the above mentioned level of certifiably CRAZY twice, which is exactly two times too many. In fact, it was after I finally rid myself of the first certifiably CRAZY person that I came up with my “no crazy people allowed” rule.

The problem with certifiably CRAZY people is they keep their craziness hidden at first. They seem normal. Then out of the blue, BAM! Crazy sneaks out and you are left wondering if it is a one time occurrence, which they will surely try to convince you it is. I am here to tell you that it is not a one time occurrence. It is just the beginning.

I’m talking to both guys and girls here because crazy comes in all shapes, sizes and genders. They can start out as friends, lovers, training partners, co-workers, etc. You may even think you love them. You may think that they need you. You may think you can fix them.

Stop.

Stop thinking that right now! Cut crazy out while you can still escape sans emotional or physical wounds because that is exactly where it will be headed. Recognize crazy signs early on and don’t ignore them.

Take it from me, I know.

You might be wondering if I’m so smart, how in the world did a second certifiably CRAZY person weasel their way into my life? Don’t I follow my own advice?

Yes. Yes I do.

It took me about a month to realize my new Coach was crazy. It took me another six weeks to realize he qualified as certifiably CRAZY. Now he is cut from my life. It wasn’t easy. It never is! I was called all sorts of names, told that I needed him and would be nothing without him. I was accused of unforgivable crimes. But, I was smart enough to recognize that crazy is crazy and nothing he could call me was actually a reflection of me. His attempts to hurt me emotionally could only go as deep as I would let them. He may have made me strong in the gym, but I am mentally strong enough to realize that I do not need him.

I will never need crazy in my life, and neither do you.

I realize it is not always easy to cut crazy from your life – especially if it’s been there for a long time. Know this: There is no shame in asking for help. Find a way to distance yourself and don’t go back.

Follow my “no crazy people allowed” rule and I guarantee you will have fewer gray hairs, less wrinkles, no stress induced heartburn and be more successful in your career and in bed.*

Blogfully yours,

Summer

*No real guarantee guaranteed. But I do believe in my heart of hearts positive energy breeds more positive energy. Crazy people will drain you. They will take all of your energy – both positive and negative. Don’t allow it to happen. Use your positive energy to improve your life and the lives of your family and friends. Your true friends, not the crazy ones.

Coach, Lessons Learned, sometimes I get on a soap box, Summer School

Being single in my 30’s has proven to be interesting. People have slowly stopped telling me that I am young and to take my time. Why? Because the truth of the matter is that I’m not that young and time-is-a-tickin! People are gracious enough to stop sugarcoating that fact. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m also not old…but if I ever want to have a shot at having an offspring of my own, I need to get a move on.

Think about it. I still have to meet the man of my dreams, date him, marry him, and get preggers.

That stuff takes time. Lots of time!

It’s not like soul mates come along every day. And let’s be honest, I don’t have the best track record of picking the right guy. I end up falling in love with emotionally unavailable men. Men who don’t want the same things as me. That makes them the wrong guy. The right guy should have the same goals and aspirations as me. We should want the same things, i.e. love, marriage and a spawn of our own.

Sometimes I feel like I should have been a little more reckless in my youth. Used a little less birth control. Because if I had a child of my own already I might not feel this pressure to find someone. Who knows, I did try and get pregnant once when I was married, but to no avail. I’ve always thought that was a blessing, but, perhaps maybe it wasn’t?

However…now that I’ve talked about getting older, time being ticking and the fact that I want a rugrat of my own, I’ve decided not to go in search of love. I’ve decided to go on a dating hiatus.

I mean, not forever, but at least until the end of September.

Because here’s the thing, being single is also incredibly awesome. I get to do what I want, when I want, and how I want. Nothing shitty about that. I want to be selfish for a while and keep my time as just that – MY TIME. Oh, and while I’m being selfish, I’ll also work on becoming a better person, growing my business, and preparing my mental well being so that when the time is right for Mr. Man of my Dreams to stroll into the picture, I will recognize him and I will be ready for him.

Right now I am not ready. My wounds are all too fresh. I look at cute, happy couples and am completely baffled by them. How do they do it? How has that old couple still holding hands managed to make it work? What does it feel like to have enough faith in a relationship that you can fight and still stick around to work things out? How do you let someone in and love and trust them unconditionally with the faith that they will love and trust you back?

I don’t get it. And that’s sad, because I really feel like I should. So until I do get it, let the non-dating games begin!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Dating debating

Why yes, I am SUPER athletic.

Oh how I love my friends. This picture is the result of an overly creative mind who happens to be a pro at Photoshop (and making me laugh).

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Random

Recently I met a friend for coffee who I hadn’t been in touch with for seven or eight months. Over our hour long visit of catching up on each other’s lives, I realized how much has changed for me since the beginning of the year.

1. I graduated from college.
2. I got my license to sell insurance.
3. I started a new career.
4. I backpacked the Grand Canyon.
5. I ended yet another long term relationship.
6. I moved, twice.
7. I started training to enter a bodybuilding competition.
8. I re-entered the dating world (only to find out that I am not really ready to be in it).

You know, all totally minor things.

I do like to constantly reinvent myself, but when I see this list even I am a little flustered by it. When my friend asked me, “so what ya been up to lately?”, I didn’t really know where to start. It took her refreshing my memory in a lot of areas to even realize just how much has happened.

Lately I’ve been feeling exhausted a lot. I get frustrated with myself and can’t figure out just what exactly is my problem. Um, hello Self, I am exhausted from this crazy life we are leading!

Go.

Go.

GO!

In typical Summer fashion, when stress piles up, I add more to it and blow full speed ahead.
Starting a new career takes time. Mending a broken heart takes time. Transforming your body into a competition ready body takes time. Adjusting to a new home takes time. Yet for some reason I think I should be able to handle all of it flawlessly at once. But of course I can’t, and I’m not, handling it flawlessly that is. Who could?

My beautifully wise friend told me that I needed to be more patient with myself. I laughed when she told me she had never met anyone with both too much gumption and not enough self-esteem, all at the same time.

I laugh because it’s true.

But don’t worry, I’ve got “manage expectations better” added on my list of things to work on – right after “become a famous fitness model” and “own a multi-million dollar company.”

A girl’s gotta dream, right?

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Just me, Reinventing Summer

It is very hard for me to write during this particular time in my life.

Some people are very private. They like to keep their problems to themselves. I am not some people.

Normally writing is cathartic. A weight gets lifted from my chest every time I hit “submit” and release my problems into the untouching arms of the internet.

Now things are different. I find myself with a new, conservative career. I also find myself with readers who actually know me, and even some who are trying to get to know me.

Don’t misunderstand me. My blog has never been a secret. I am not embarrassed by it. In fact, I have always been rather proud of it.

But recent events, recent “breaks”, recent feelings that I have shared, have had a backlash. This is not the first time. It is, however, the first time I’ve been selfless enough to care.

I don’t like hurting people. The sharpness of words can cut emotional wounds.

So what do I say? What can I write? How do I get my release?

Do I quit writing? Do I quit sharing? Do I write and not share? Do I only tell bubble-gum stories and leave the grittiness of feelings out of it?

Oh how I would love to write about a day of double betrayal, seeing my ex for the first time in public, and the excitement and sheer comedy of going on dates again.

I’m struggling to find a balance. Writing without posting doesn’t give me the same fix. I like to feel as if I have put myself out there and said what is in my heart. People can decide to like it, or they can decide not to. Either way, it is no longer bent up inside of me.

The problem lies in the fact that my stories involve others. They are not just about me.

I feel as though I need to have an alias or write a dating column for some small city where no one actually knows me. But then again, even if I was by some miracle able to do this, um, this is the internet and nothing stays secret for long.

So buttoned up I will be for now. At least about the juicy gossip that everyone wants to hear about. I’m sorry, but what else am I to do?

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Bag full of complaints, blogging, Dating debating

Some days, I’m not that fragile. I’m tough.

Other days, I know better, but I struggle. I’m not one for pity-parties. But sometimes, you know, damn, it’s hard.

Pity-parties always make things worse. I end up mad at myself for allowing negative feelings into my thoughts. So mad that I force myself to start listening to annoying positive attitude audio-books, rolling my eyes the whole time, only to find out after a few days that they actually did help.

This has been my cycle ever since the break. The break that eventually led to the break up.

Time has passed and I am starting to feel like myself again. All that forced positive energy has paid off. I have actually been willing good things to come to me. I know this sounds a little hokey, but I believe I have! Work has been going great. I love what I do. I have the best clientele a business owner could ever ask for and recent momentum has become thank-the-lord contagious.

Outside of work I’ve picked up a new hobby, or rather, a new hobby picked me up.

It’s really a funny story. I was working out at the gym when an incredibly fit older man approached me. The first thing he told me, after getting me to take out my ear buds, was that he was not hitting on me, that he was 65 and knew he didn’t stand a chance, but just had to ask  if I’ve ever considered bodybuilding. Of course my answer was a mystified “um, no.” But I continued to hear him out.

I am now in my third week of training.

I’m no stranger to the gym. I dated a personal trainer for two years, but I have never been this sore in my life! There is a huge difference between working out and training for a competition. I work out four times a week with the man I lovingly call Coach. He pushes me, encourages me, mentors me, and has become my over-protective gym dad. He is constantly telling me that every man in the place is not good enough and what his version of good enough looks like.

He cracks me up.

My first competition will most likely be sometime late this fall where I will be entering into a figure (not bodybuilding) competition. Coach is convinced I will be ready by then if I continue to train as hard as I have been.

It’s crazy, but this training, these aching muscles all over my body, it has all contributed to making me feel alive again. I can’t raise my arms all the way above my head, and sometimes I look like a zombie when I walk because of stiff muscles, but I have never felt so tough.

I’ve realized that it’s not just sometimes that I’m not that fragile, I am always not that fragile.

My sister Staci posted this on my Facebook wall.

Right now, I finally believe it.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Coach, Reinventing Summer