Biodegradable marriage.

Today’s blog post is brought to you by the sun, sunscreen, bleach cream, and Scott and I were married on July 17, 2004 by a pastor in front of one hundred witnesses.

When people say they don’t want to get married because it’s a piece of paper – they’re right. Marriage is a piece of paper.

It’s a piece of paper that can be easily misplaced when a newlywed couple moves from Manhattan, Kansas to Charleston, South Carolina. Misplaced meaning it probably got thrown in the trash. Thirteen years later, it most likely doesn’t exist because paper is biodegradable, much like a marriage. Hold on. That last sentence came out wrong. Scott and I are still married. According to our health insurance, we are not.

“Mr. Burton, we regret to inform you that Julie Burton will not be covered on your health insurance policy effective immediately. Please submit a valid marriage license stating you are married.”


The insurance company wanted proof Scott and I are married. They also wanted proof that Emma and Kate are Scott’s dependents. Emma and Kate’s birth certificates were sufficient to prove that Scott is the father of Emma and Kate Burton. The birth certificates also lists the mother – me, Julie Burton. I share the family last name because we’re married and Scott didn’t bang his sister. 

I’ve nagged the shit out of Scott to order a new marriage license. No, I didn’t politely remind Scott. I nagged because we’re married.

A few months ago, Scott pointed out a dark discoloration on my face because we’re married. 

Scott reminded me for weeks that my face is flawed and I should get checked out by a dermatologist because we’re married. 

I lied. Scott didn’t tell me my face is flawed. But he was concerned I would get skin cancer. But, to me, he totally looked for flaws because we’re married.

I finally made an appointment with a dermatologist.

“Mrs. Burton, your insurance card isn’t working. We even called and they said you aren’t covered anymore. You’ll have to self pay and resubmit it when it’s working again.”

Mrs. Burton.

My thumbs rage-texted Scott in the waiting room.

“Julie Burton? If you follow me, I’ll take you back to the room and the doctor will be right in.”


The doctor walked in the room.

“Hey Julie, what’s going on today?”

“I have this discoloration on my face. I’m a little concerned about it. It’s been there for months now. The intensity changes but it’s always there.

“What SPF sunscreen do you wear?”

“Oh, high. 70, maybe? I’m paranoid about that stuff. I’ve been at the pool with my kids a lot this summer.”

“Do you reapply?”

“I do to my kids. Hm, no, not to me. I kinda forget about taking care of myself when I’m with them.”

“I see. This is from the sun. Make sure you continue to wear a high SPF and reapply. That’s key, make sure you reapply. I’ll prescribe some bleach cream that should help balance out the discoloration.”

“That’d be awesome. Thank you.”

I walked out to the receptionist.

“That will be 108 dollars, Mrs. Burton.”

Mrs. Burton.

Dear health insurance company, I regret to inform you you didn’t get a wedding invite on July 17th, 2004. You missed a hell of a party. You also missed being a witness to the words, “I take you in sickness and in health as long as we never lose the marriage license because official name changes, tax returns, and bank account statements won’t be enough to prove we’re married.

Marriage is a piece of paper.

Don’t forget to wear sunscreen.


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And don’t forget to buy my book, “But Did You Die?”

My makeup routine.

“You should get drunk and write a blog post. It would be hilarious.”

“I need to get in shape. You need to write more fitness blog posts.”

“Oh no, are you going to write about this on your blog?”

“I love your makeup. You should write about your makeup routine.”

I never run out of blog post ideas. Most ideas are sitting in my drafts folder. But sometimes someone will suggest something that I think is worth writing for.

My makeup routine.

See ya, guys.

We’re all women here. We all know how to apply makeup. I could show you what I do but this post is not meant to teach a bunch of 12-year-olds how to blend eyeshadow. I’m also not comfortable showing a step-by-step closeup of my face because ew, gross – eyeball and clogged pores.

Scott has no clue I wear makeup.

“You’re writing a blog post on makeup? You don’t even wear it.”

Scott has known me for 13 years. Scott thinks I wake up looking like this.

My only piece of advice regarding the world of beauty products is for the 12-year-olds – wear sunscreen. Your adult self will thank you for slowing the aging process down.

 – Or  – be a super nerd and stay inside the house every summer with your face buried in a book. The cliques of pretty girls covered in baby oil at the pool will like you one day. And so will the boys – shocker, I know.

This is me when I wake up. 33 years old. No makeup. No photoshop. No fancy Instagram or photography app edits. I’m tired because I was up late reading a book. And I’m mad because my daughters’ school starts too damn early. The only thing I did here was wash my face the night before and use moisturizer. I added additional moisturizer in the morning because it’s winter and my skin is dry.


I also pick zits that I still get at 33. Scar on my chin, Jesus. 

My makeup routine. Hm, I wear makeup almost every day. And if I’m not wearing it, you can bet I’m wearing sunglasses. It’s not for anyone else but to make myself feel pretty.

Sure, I’ll run errands without makeup. I don’t care what the Target cashier thinks of my bare face. But I’m more likely to argue a price check if I’m wearing makeup.

Now that I screwed your 12-year-old self over, slap on some moisturizer with sunscreen then head towards the makeup aisle. These companies did not ask me to write about them. This is simply word-of-mouth. Pretty mouths. Mouths that are worth arguing for at the price check. My favorites:


Koco matte eyeshadow by Beauty Brands in Discrete – sweep this on the bottom of your eyelid and feather up to your eyebrow. Or sometimes I just brush it in my crease. It’s a good solid eye-opener color if you don’t have time to blend any other colors with it.

Mac Lipstick in High Tea – Mac makeup is expensive but worth it. This stuff stays on my lips all day, even after I eat. This nude color is my new favorite.

NYX Eyebrow Cake Powder in Taupe/Ash – Filling in eyebrows is my newest trick. I never thought I needed to because I have dark eyebrows. Oh, I need to. Everyone needs to fill in your eyebrows. At least stop over-plucking them. It makes a huge difference. It defines the eye or something. I don’t know, I’m not a makeup artist but I know what looks good.

Mary Kay Nourishine Plus Lip Gloss in Rock N Red – I’m wearing this in the first picture. I tried this color over Christmas with Scott’s cousins. It’s bold. It’s a date night lipstick. Every woman in Scott’s family looked stunning in it. And they’re not Mexican like me.

I’m wearing all my favorite makeup here. Except the Mary Kay lip gloss.



Do you have any must-try makeup products? Do you wear makeup every day? Why do you wear makeup? Did the guys really take off?


Die mole, DIE.

I don’t want to be writing about this.

I had another post ready to be published today but that will be on hold.

I really just need to take a moment to freak out here:


There. My freak out. I can be a little dramatic.

Three months ago, I had a mole removed from my ankle. I wrote about my melt down here.

I got a call from the lab a week after the mole was removed. The mole was considered “atypical”. From what I understand, it’s a mole that has abnormal cells. Some would call it “pre-cancerous cells”. They could be fine but sometimes they are a warning before cancerous cells develop. The lab tech assured me I would be ok because it was taken off early. My doctor requested that I come back in 3 months to make sure the cells didn’t grow back.

That follow-up appointment was today.

So what brings you in today, Julie?

Well, I had a mole removed and I was told the doctor wanted to see if it grew back. I can’t tell because the scar is so dark.

The nurse looked at the scar on my ankle.

Oh. Yep, it grew back. I’ll get the doctor.

He walked out and shut the door.

Say whaaaaa?! How does he just walk out the door like that?! I need consoling!

I kicked my dangling feet and pulled my hair.


I listened for voices outside the door. I hopped off the table, grabbed my phone and started texting Scott:

I love you. I love the girls. I love my family. I’m dying. Nurse said my mole grew back. Now I’m throwing punches and dropping F bombs. Pour my ashes in Manhattan, Kansas. Preferably on the 50 yard line at Bill Snyder Family Stadium. Gotta go. Hear voices.

I hopped back on the table and smiled at the doctor as she walked in.

Hi Julie! Let’s see…. Oh no! It grew back.

What does that mean?

We will take it off again. I’ll dig a little deeper than last time to make sure I get everything. It will get sent to the lab for more testing and they will call you in a week. I’ll have my assistant prep you and I’ll be back to take it off.

She shut the door. The nurse walked back in with his tray. My eyes focused on the needle. I felt the blood drain from my face.

Ok, here we go again. This will be the worst part. Wipe you down with alcohol first.

You have any whiskey?

He laughed. I closed my eyes.

Couple little pinches here.

I tensed up. I feel him stab the needle into my ankle bone with no fat.

Ok, do you feel this.


Ok, we’re all set then.

The doctor peeked her head in.

Hey Julie, do you mind if a student watches?

As long as I don’t have to watch. I don’t care.

Here, I’ll lay you back a little further so you can’t see. Ok, I saw this patient 3 months ago. She was concerned about a mole so we removed it. The path report came back atypical. Now, as you can see, the mole has grown back. We are going to remove it today and send that off to the lab.

I felt the pressure of the knife scissoring in and out.

Get me out of here. Hurry up. Just hurry up.

Her healing will take a little bit longer because it is on the foot. Normally it takes a few weeks to heal; hers will take about a month. We will send her off with instructions to keep Vaseline and a bandaid on the incision site. And there you go. All done. The lab will call you in about a week, Julie. Rest easy, ok?

The doctor, assistant and student all walked out. I got my things and left. I looked at my phone. No reply from Scott. I called him. No answer.

He better hope our house is on fire and he lost his phone.

I arrived at our house. It was still standing. No fire.


What happened?

Did you get my text? I tried calling too.

Oh. Oops. It was on silent.



The mole. It grew back! They removed it. I will know in a week what kind of cells grew back.

What are you doing?

Getting a black sock. This foot will never see the light of day. Ever. Call me White Foot.

I go upstairs and yelled down below.

And then I’m going to write my will. Can you just throw a big party in my honor instead of a funeral? I don’t want people to be sad. I’ll make sure the Wildcats win a Championship. That will be all me. You’re welcome.

You are completely out of control. Calm down. They got whatever it is early.

I am calm!!!!!

Cool as a cucumber.
I’m cool as a cucumber.

This post brought to you by Sun Block: SPF 100.