Rosie Glow Wellness

Mind body health for the deeply fabulous


2:9, 2:10 & 2:11 Proposals


Wolf Hearted & Rabbit Hearted by Emily Winfield Martin
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I love this painting because it represents all that we are in winter: quietly wild until the snow melts; emblazoned with the crests of our inner-animals, no matter how many layers we hide under; quick to redefine ourselves in the new year, quick to greet change with a discernible side-eye.

Humans. We’re so predictable.

Fact: I was quarantined for the better half of this past week due to sickness and snow. I took my two days off of blogging all at once, opting instead to talk to my roommate’s cat and read long outdated editions of People magazine. Terrifying; the rate at which a functional eccentric person like myself manifests into the likes of Edie Bouvier Beale. Furthermore, Elmer knows all my secrets now. You keep away from us, Albert Maysles, you hear?

I could tell you all that my unplanned bout of me-and-only-me-time has re-instilled in me an eagerness to join the world and take part in all of its perpetual doings — that’s a half-truth. Here’s the whole truth: my recent time alone has only reinforced that this year, I’d like to be a little more intentional about the perpetual doings that I engage in. What I mean is this: constantly wringing my hands and my heart out over work or unsupportive relationships or the twenty nine dollars in my checking account leaves me frazzled and gasping… so those pastimes are out. Daily happy hours don’t make me happy. “Raging” every night doesn’t even sound appealing to my peaceful ears. There are only twenty four hours in a day (ask Kiefer Sutherland if you don’t believe me) and I’d like to spend them mindfully supporting my goals and following whatever glitters for me.

So. Rather than regularly allowing myself to be swept up in everyone else’s idea of fun, I gots some plans for how I want to be involved in my friendships and my community as I go forth into old lady-hood. Here goes:

1. Get down in the club. Craft Club, that is. Or Bread Bakers Anonymous. Or Read A Book, See the Bastardized Movie Version of that Book Club. I am blessed with a bounty of brilliant, creative kindreds. Additionally, I like to make things, learn things, talk some feminist smack. My ladies have been plotting for a while now: the time to be soulfully social is now. Promise I’ll keep you in the loop.

2. Introduce you to my pals. Now that RG is one whole year old, I’m hoping to recruit some new voices for an interview series. If I’m getting a little tired of the Rose Show, I can’t imagine how you all must feel… plus I want to brag about how fabulous my friends are! I’m thinking it will be called the Boss-Ass B*tch Series (thanks, Po’!). I have some mega-inspiring ladies in mind, but if you want to nominate anybody, email me and I’ll reach out to them!

(An aside, my number one inspiring lady, Emma, has a new blog for the new year, and she’s still serving up trouble on Side Dish. Check ’em!)

3. Carve out enough time between working, writing and loving everyone in my life to become a Logan Square institution. I’ve written before about the sense of community here, and that bohemian bond becomes more and more obvious to me every day. I want to keep volunteering for the Comfort Station. I want to plant begonias in our community garden. I want to sell wheat grass shots at the Farmers Market. I want to suck it up and pay the membership dues to join our Co-op. All perfectly noble desires, I think. I want. I want. I want.

What it comes down to is this: time is a resource. As much as I’d love to float on the wind, always trusting in the Universe… sometimes that damn wind blows me places I don’t care to be. Adulthood is such a balancing act between faith, flexibility and control — making choices about who you want to be, how you plan to become that person, and then following your own guidelines… following whatever glitters for you. It’s all terribly exciting. It can also just be terrible… but we don’t have time to focus on that.

Love you guys. What plans are you proposing this year? If you only clicked on this because the world “Proposal” was in the title, I gotcha good 🙂 BOYS DROOL. Truesdale out.



On Writing Again

Oh hello again! Look at me, bloggin’ on the reg like a CHAMP/creep. APPARENTLY, telling women to smile is an even more widespread epidemic than I thought. One sassy Facebook commenter led me here… I’ll have that response in my back pocket next time, Emily!

Anywho. RG readers, you are too good to me. My presence around here has been spotty at best in the past few months — basically ever since I announced that I am writing a book. I’d love to tell you that I’ve been spending all of the time I haven’t been blogging writing my millennial manifesto, but that would be a lie. Not an unobtrusive white lie, but… like… a ten foot tall, radioactive-chartreuse, super sparkly lie that sings show tunes. Like that lie personified would be a musical theater kid. Or Rupaul. You know? I wrote about my book-writin’ struggles a bit here, while simultaneously imploring you to be first readers. I had loads of brilliant, enthusiastic volunteers and I still haven’t delivered. Because…???

Because I’m #theworst. Because I fell off the proverbial writing wagon (which is a converted station wagon covered in quill pens and chauffered by Sylvia Plath, FYI… not some Oregon Trail sh*t. This is MY blog, mmkay?). That’s why. Because for many, many months I committed to waking up at 5:00 a.m. to pour my guts on paper and then I just stopped.

As you all know by now, figuring out how to live my best, most balanced life and sharing my findings with you guys is my ultimate passion. Thus… I’ve spent some time questioning whether or not devoting myself to a craft and possibly missing out on friend stuff/boy stuff/bar stuff is “worth it”. Newsflash: Tuesday night party people HATE it when you leave at 10:00 p.m. Boyfriends HATE it when you wake up at 5:00 a.m. But I have determined the following:

I don’t want a boyfriend. I want a book deal. 

I’d rather have a book deal than another Whistler drink. I’d rather be a square… with a book deal. I’d rather come across as too intense and too disciplined and terrifyingly over-caffeinated (true… true… TRUE) than not have a book deal.

So, obviously, I have a plan. As of today, I have reinstated my morning routine (write/coffee/run) and intend to alternate between blogging days and book days. Soooo that’s what I’m gonna do and I’m pretty pumped about it. Can I get a holla from my fellow nerds?!

What do you need to recommit to? Tell me in the comments! Um, also, Christian Slater and Steve Zahn  are totes filming a T.V. show in my office today and I hardcore creeped on my way to lunch. Just sayin’.



Back To School. Kinda.


Wisdom: dorky kids are less likely to be assholes later in life. So… success?

Sweet friends! Having vented my lady-spleen last night, I’m feeling better. Feeling fresh. Feeling clean. Feeling autumnal even though it’s 95 degrees in the Chi. Truth: this is my favorite time of year.

Fall means squash (orange foods: the reason I look tannish all year round.) Falls means Paula Red apples and wool capes and worn sweaters and seasonally appropriate combat boots that don’t make your feet sweat balls #anatomicimpossibilities. But more than that, fall means back to school… even for us working girls. We breathe in l’eau de pencil shavings and dry, curly edged leaves. We breathe out progress. Cue the self improvement montage! I’ll show you how valuable Elle Woods can be!

In case you guys haven’t noticed, I’m sort of obsessed with personal development. I don’t understand how a person can not be obsessed with personal development. I owe you all a majorly reflective post on where I’ve been and where I am now in the sort of near future, but since the days are already growing shorter here, let’s make this brief.  Here is a list of what I’m doing right with my 20’s:

– I’ve already conquered my demons… since, welp… I don’t have an eating disorder and my only “drinking problem” is that I drink so rarely that even moderate imbibing makes me cray.

– I’m, if not gainfully, then at least stay-afloatfully, employed.

– I’m rul’ quick to disentangle myself from unhealthy romantic entanglements

– I take exceptionally good care of my health and will probs look and feel like a young spring chicken when I’m an old hag. That’s how it works, yes?

– I have a baller support system in my girlfrans and my family.

– I have lots of little side passions, a sense of purpose, and a solid understanding of who I am.

So, essentially, I’ve finally mastered the basics and can get down to business. Like Elle Woods, y’all. So here’s the business… the  stuff I need to work on and might need to keep working on for a long, long time:

– I’m a little wimpy… in personal relationships. In professional relationships. I need to get better at asking for what I want in the moment that I want it.

– Hand in hand with wimpiness is vagueness. Floatiness. I know I can be a lady of concrete conviction, but SHOCKER… I don’t always effectively communicate that strength.

– Listening. Truth: I’m a pretty mediocre listener. I’m selfish and overstimulated in the way that every other human with problems of privilege and an internet connection is selfish and overstimulated. Sometimes I’m too busy analyzing what’s being said to actually hear it, you know?

There’s more, but the lunch bell is ringing. Jk lols, no more lunch bells for me. But that’s enough to get started with my own evolution montage, right? If this song is playing on repeat in my head, maybe? Yes. So anyway, if I’m sort of pushy and focus a little too intently on everything you say in the coming weeks… I’m experimenting, okay? Okay.

Tell me what you’re workin’ on! What does autumn mean to you?



It’s Good To Have Goals

Honeys, I’m home! At least physically; mentally, I imagine it will take me a little while to warm up to this week after so much time spent frolicking on the beach and sipping 32 oz. Southern Lemonade Daiquiries poolside. To be honest, I thought I would get some more writing in, but I’m all about prioritization and more laptop time would’ve meant less family bonding. If you’d had the opportunity to hang with the two most adorable tiny humans on the planet all week long (they can’t read yet, or I’d totes give them a shoutout), you would’ve bailed on blogging, too.

I sort of bailed on thinking, as well. Mostly, I floated and flopped around in the ocean like one of these guys. But get this: instead of thinking, I just felt. I know that sounds hippy dippy even for me, but it’s true. I chose to hang with my loved ones, I experienced all sorts of experiences (Drunk cousin karaoke! Dolphin spotting on a boat! Lightly hellish 16 hour car rides!), and thereby felt the ensuing emotions (I FREAKING LOVE THE BACKSTREET BOYS! OhGodOhGod I’m simultaneously hungover and seasick and I’m going to barf in front of my grandma! I long to be a free woman/No, I do NOT want to do another crossword/Seriously, Ipod Shuffle from 2008? You break NOW?) Because I was on vacation, I suppose, I wasn’t as preoccupied with my typical preoccupations… like the embarrassing amount of money in my checking account or, you know, the book that I recently promised to write. So my feelings were directly tied to what was happening around me at any given moment which, um, was totally new for me. Mile-a-millisecond me. Lunatic multitasker/5 a.m. wake up-er/Will do anything for coffee-er me. Awesome, right? In terms of learning to become fully engaged in my own life, this trip did me a world of good.

Also, I’m tan now, so that doesn’t hurt.

But let’s be real: I love my routine. I’ve spent 25 years seasoning my quotidiennement so that it’s perfectly peppered with wild, crazy funtimes; sprinkled with EXTREME brain workouts, and garnished with dreaming/scheming/selling my soul to pay my bills on time… you know? It’s no accident that I live the way I do – there are things I’m working on (in fact, I write a blog about just that!), but I’ve designed my life so that it works for me. And it turns out I’ve done a pretty good job, because take that routine away from me and I’m a flappy-dancing balloon man in a windstorm (they’re going to wonder why some chick named Rosie Glow is directing people to their website…), or a mediocre swimmer dressed like Taylor Swift in the Atlantic: just a 22 25 year old soul lost at sea. Vacations are necessary, and this one was really special, but I love my life.

Another thing I love, guys? Goals. Mine take up a lot of  frontal lobe real estate because, conveniently, my daily life sets me up to dream big and accomplish some sh*t. If you’re on vacay right now, stop reading and get thee a pina colada or twelve. If you’re not, here’s my short list:

This month:
-OWN at work (details to come!)
-Take all the me-time I need. After this past week and a very successful, very outdoorsy May, I’m cool with being an indoor cat for part of June. Plus, I need to reallocate some time previously spent prancing in the sun to…
Write/Writing like a motherf*cker.
-Create a Kickstarter. 
Writing a book, going to conferences, creating an online platform, etc., etc., etc. takes some dough and, d’oh, I’m positively doughless.
-Spend less. Make more. But first spend less. Methinks this warrants its own post in the near future…

This summer:
-Rosie Glow Summer of Thrift: see above.
-Have as much free fun as possible. Outdoor concerts at Millennium Park… say whaaaaat!
Finish my proposal, make my website all fancy, and be as legit as possible so someone might actually see some author potential in me 🙂

By the time I’m 30:
-Be a published author with a following and, fingers crossed, a contract to keep the books comin’!
-Maybe get over myself enough to happily cohabitate with Dream Man. That’s a BIG maybe and more of an ideal circumstance than a goal… whatevs.
-Have enough dough and enough job flexibility to travel. A lot.
And Serena van der Woodsen hair 🙂

That’s it for now, morning glories. I missed you! Thanks for sticking around! And tell me… what are your goals? Short term, long term… I find that even abstract deadlines help, and it’s beneficial to shake things up every once in a while (I tend to pick a new focus every month, like Allergen-free April or All Fun, All The Time May.) If one of your goals is to learn how to make rhubarb syrup or you feel like submitting to a fab new online mag, my girls Emma and Sandy have you covered 🙂

XOXO forever and ever,


A Body at Rest: On Vegging out, Tuning in, and Doing it all Consciously

Hi sweet friends!  Before I begin – a vital inquest: are any readers suffering from wacky winter sleep patterns? For those of you sweet enough to ask me how I’ve managed to post almost daily… it’s because I’ve lately been waking up every hour on the hour all night long, and I usually give up by 4 a.m. It’s sort of lovely to have a solid hour or two for coffee, breakfast and sweeping out brain trash (Christolf™), but I fear my skin will soon lose it’s youthful luster and my fair eyeballs, unused to so much computer time, will simply plop out. Plop. Plop. Like so. Is that disgusting? I’m sorry, 4 a.m. Rose is a maniac! But I have been thinking about rest… here goes.

Most of us have finally realized that, as creatively functioning human beings, we need downtime – time in which to do nothing. Now, I am no vegging virgin: I’ve been known to OWN a Gilmore Girls marathon and… can I just say it? I live in a studio. I eat half of my meals in bed. But here’s the caveat: what we really need is guilt free downtime, and I’m far less well versed in that realm.

If you’re anything like me, you always have things you should be doing, and let me tell you, a rest spent berating yourself for the unchecked entries on your to-do list is no rest at all.

We need goals – we do. But we don’t need to be actively approaching them all the damn time. Example: I’ve been using Sunday as my go-to get sh*t done day in recent months. But as you know, I was not my best on Sunday. It happens, right? But when it happens to me, I am furious with myself for “wasting a day.” I didn’t make any career goals happen. I didn’t do laundry, or return ill-fitting shoes, or go to the dry cleaners or prep tupperware lunches for the week. I didn’t do my nails or pluck my eyebrows or scrub my countertops or make this pizza for the Superbowl. I crawled back into bed after spin class and watched three episodes of Project Runway. The hora!

I love being productive. At the end of a fruitful day, I love to congratulate myself for all the energy I put forth just before, overwhelmed by my own awesomeness, I nod off. But an unproductive day is  not wasted if you lounge purposefully: if you acknowledge that you are deserving of respite and you can make your dreams happen in a clean apartment some other time. Keep your goals realistic and flexible and if you have the opportunity to veg; veg girl, veg!

And another thing: if you have intentions on that list that you never get to; that exist in writing simply to mock you i.e. do ten minutes of ab work every night and meditate every morning (ha! double ha!) cross those off and never speak of them again! I have very little interest in either of those activities ever, much less daily, and the truth is… I don’t want to do them. Nor do I especially want to sing every day – which was a very public New Year’s resolution I made. Meh. If you’re no longer feeling a particular ambition, drop it and know that you can always come back to it later. There. More mental recuperation time for you.

Relax, sweet friends. I’m certain that you’ve earned it. And pounce on that to-do list once you’ve regained that get’er done ‘tude of yours.

Does anyone else struggle with idleness? I’d love to hear your story!