September 1, 2010 | Inner Mean Girl 40-Day Cleanse,The 4-1-1 on Me

I’m participating in the 40-day Inner Mean Girl Cleanse.. For 40 days, I am joining women around the world to cleanse my system of 6 toxic habits of my Inner Mean Girl (gossip, comparison, judgment, expectations, and obligations) and replace them with self-loving habits instead. Join me.

This week’s toxin is: Comparison

The Mission: To refrain from comparison and pick up the self-loving habits of inspiration, appreciation, and gratitude for the next 7 days.

So, needless to say, I would’ve failed this miserably today if I’d read it earlier. My Comparison Queen came out and stopped all over my ass today. In stilettos. Today, my supervisor was talking about her future plans and how eventually she would leave the company and how, if I wanted to, step into her shoes.

Uh, that would be a hell to the no.

First of all, the thought of leaving this job and starting anew somewhere else scares the shit out of me. I’m in a rut–a cozy rut–and I like it there. She makes the job worthwhile. After 3 yrs of working together, we know each other. The dynamics will totally change when she leaves.

And she will leave.

Second, I couldn’t do all the high-level stuff that she does. “I didn’t know how to either, when I first came here,” she said. I don’t believe her. It seems like having the ability to talk like you know what you’re talking about–and have mangers and above actually listen–is just something that comes naturally.

I don’t feel that it doesn’t–for me–and yet I want to start my own business. Go figure.

So, when my Comparison Queen decides to put on her stomping shoes, I need to do the following:

1. Allow the person you are comparing yourself with to lift me up instead. Use what your Comparison Queen attacks you with as a source of inspiration to shift or take an action in your life.

2. Appreciate the other person, and appreciate myself. Take the thing you are comparing and tell that person, or yourself, that you appreciate them for it.

3. Be grateful for what you have right now. Broaden your scope of success and get grateful for the success you do have.

I think this may be easier than the gossip thing.

JUST A REMINDER: There’s still time to add “your two cents” to Chapter 5 of A Royale Pain: A Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant Novel. It’s the final chapter I’ll be posting for my class project and comments close on Sunday.

Technorati Tags: 40-day Inner Mean Girl Cleanse

September 1, 2010 | Life in General,Reading is FUNdamental,Road Trip Wednesday

Road Trip Wednesday is a “Blog Carnival”, where YA Highway‘s contributors post a weekly writing or reading-related question and answer it in on our own blogs. You can hop from destination to destination and get everybody’s unique take on the topic.

You’re more than welcome to participate! Just answer the question on your own blog, and leave a link to it in their comments.

Topic #43: What’s the best book you’ve read last month?

BEDEVILED ANGEL
by Annette Blair

A WORKS LIKE MAGICK NOVEL
Book Two

At the Works Like Magick employment agency in Salem, Massachusetts, matching clients in need with magical temps is a piece of cake, especially when the temp happens to be heaven-sent…

In a building collapse, Chance Godricson is meant to live and Queisha Saint-Denis to die, but he sent her up his escape tunnel before him, and it collapsed behind her. At that moment, he became her guardian angel. Now Queisha’s about to face the most difficult challenge of her life and Chance wants to be there for her. Enter Angus, a fellow angel, who knocks Chance back to earth, and to Queisha, without permission. Will the archangels let Chance stay? For how long? And at what cost?

When Queisha Saint-Denis agreed to be a surrogate mother for a jet-setting–but childless–couple, she never dreamed she’d see a return on her gift. Literally. But now she’s looking at two adorable orphans, who come with a lot of baggage: there’s a battle brewing over who “inherits” them and their huge fortune, plus an unwanted (and alarmingly attractive) guardian, whom she’s sure has been hired by the dueling family members to keep an eye on her more than the children.

Chance Godricson is keeping an eye on Queisha. in fact, he’s her guardian angel. Ever since he gave his life to save hers, Chance has felt an undeniable connection to Queisha. And now that he’s back on Earth, in her house, surrounded by two scene-stealing moppets and a woman he finds irresistible, Chance is about to discover that helping Queisha and still staying angelic is not going to be easy…

For the record, Annette Blair is one of my favorite authors. If she had a blog, it’d be on my blog roll over there. (Hint, Hint, Annette. Get a blog. LOL). I really enjoyed reading the “Witch” Series and even gave her a glowing review for one of the books. BEDEVILED is Book Two in a new series called Works Like Magick. I really enjoyed Book One, NAKED DRAGON, and was hoping to get another dragon book this time, but was pleasantly surprised when the story was about angels instead. Guardian angels.

Totally diggin’ the concept.

I love the idea of having a guardian angel watching over you from the minute you’re born and waiting to meet you on the other side when you die.

I love the idea that if you almost die, it’s not a doctor that brings you back, but your guardian angel.

I love the idea that both humans and animals have guardian angels.

I love the idea that guardian angels have rainbow-colored wings and each layer stands for something (i.e. gold = love)

I love the idea that there are different types of guardian angels, depending on how you died, and that each and every one of them has a special job in Heaven.

I love the idea that someone’s last words to you can become the motto you live by.

I love the idea that my guardian angel could be as gorgeous as Chance Godricson. (Seriously. Take a look at that cover again).

Just like the blurb states, Chance became Quiesha’s guardian angel after he dies in her place. Chance’s last words to her inspired her to become a surrogate mother for a jet-setting couple. When they die in a freak accident, the twin girls she gave birth to end up in her care. And Chance, who’s been in love with her for years (even though it’s forbidden), gets kicked back down to Earth to help her out and deal with a shit-storm of a custody battle.

The world Annette created for these four people (Quiesha, Chance, and the twins, Lace and Skye) just pulled me in and made me want to stay a while. Quiesha is this brave half-Kenyan/half-white soul who has to overcome her insecurities about her parenting abilities. It’s not that she doesn’t want or love the girls—quite the contrary—Quiesha just has this teeny, tiny, itty, bitty, okay, it’s a pretty large, problem: she’s agoraphobic. So much so that she’s secluded herself in a big house. On an island.

To be honest, if I were agoraphobic, I would never want to leave my house if it looked like Queisha’s: multiple bedrooms and each one of them painted a different color. It even had a dance studio. With a disco ball, people. How cool is that?

And then there’s Chance. Mr. Hottie on a Stick who’s really one thing but comes to Queisha in a different capacity: as a cook.

I felt sympathy for the girls, who ended up with parents that spent their time around the world rather than with their children. And I found myself rooting for Quiesha and silently encouraging her as she faced her fears. Agoraphobia is a very real and very crippling disease and although it was a subplot, it never overwhelmed the rest of the story. I think it was a great book and I’m really enjoying this series and am looking forward to the forthcoming books. Maybe you’ll like her books, too. Head on over to her website and check out all her other stories.

JUST A REMINDER: There’s still time to add “your two cents” to Chapter 5 of A Royale Pain: A Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant Novel. It’s the final chapter I’ll be posting for my class project and comments close on Sunday.

Technorati Tags: BEDEVILED ANGEL, Annette Blair, A WORKS LIKE MAGICK NOVEL, NAKED DRAGON

August 30, 2010 | "Whoa whoa I gotta go...back to schoooool...again",3rd Semester,A Royale Pain,Adv Children's Lit,Book One,Draven Atreides,Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant Series,Prescott College,Reading is FUNdamental,School Daze,Summer 2010,Your Two Cents

As part of my Creative Project in my ACL course, I’m posting the first five chapters of my work-in-progress A Royale Pain: Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant (Book One) during the month of August. Your opinion/critique is requested. Are you new to the blog? Ready why I’m doing this here. THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER FOR MY PROJECT.

Deets:
* New chapter posted every Monday
* Post your comment/critique/advice/suggestions in the Comment Section
* Comment section closes on Sunday
* ACL Project ends Aug 30th

CHAPTER FIVE

At lunch, I barely get a chance to sit down before Poe jumps on me (not literally, of course).

“So you tracked him down and….”

“And we talked,” I say. If you could call it that.

“And?”

“And he wants to keep his job there a secret. Which we’ll do,” I give her and Rico a pointed look.

“Is he that ashamed?” he asks, confused. “I mean, he works at an exclusive spa. Where’s the hardship?”

“Does he clean toilets or something?” she says around a mouthful of food.

I shrug. “Don’t know. Didn’t get that far.”

She groans and throws her hands up.

Rico adopts an incredulous expression. “Chica, I thought that was the point of going to see him?”

“Not true. The point was to let him know him that his secret wouldn’t get out,” I correct.

She slaps a hand to her forehead and groans again.

He mumbles something in Puerto Rican that I definitely don’t want translated. I’m sure the words “stupid idiot” are involved.

“She obviously needs more training,” Poe grumbles. “Call my secretary and set up an appointment.”

More training? There is definitely no training for this job. My sleuthing skills are positively craptacular, but I have to keep reassuring myself that it’s my first official case. A case that’s been dragging on for four months, granted, but it’s still only a first case. It’s probably performance anxiety or something. This time I didn’t just stumble onto something by accident. This is the real, real deal. Maybe I should treat this the same way. If I sit back, wait, and observe, something is bound to come up.

“Her secretary would be me,” Rico says, freeing me from my inner thoughts. “So what did you guys talk about? What was he wearing?”

I look at him over the top of my glasses, my lips twitching in amusement. “Sweats.”

His eyelids lower to half mast. “Mmm. He must’ve been working out. You know, I had this pretty vivid dream the other night where—” He stops abruptly and his eyes pop open to saucers as he looks over my shoulder.
Tingling prickles skitter up my neck and I know what, or in this case, who, has caught Rico’s attention. The EWS is going haywire today. As calmly as possible, I turn in my seat to see Rader at the soda machine.

“How’s it goin’, Rader?” I call out.

He turns his head and smiles at me. Rico emits a strangled gasp.

“Hey Draven, wassup?” he says, pulling out a bottled water. Flipping it to his other hand, he shoves the change in his front pocket and walks towards us.

“Oh Dios Mio, he’s coming over,” Rico hisses.

I quickly throw him a chill-out look, only to find him staring at Rader like he’s the star quarterback. If we had an athletic team, that is. Which we don’t.

“You guys always have lunch in here?” Rader asks, coming to a stop inches away.

“If we get lucky. These are my friends, Poe and Rico,” I say.

“Hey.” Poe salutes him with her cherry lollipop.

“Charmed,” Rico murmurs breathily, his chocolate-brown eyes checking out the dark gray sweater molded to Rader’s chest, his slightly baggy jeans, and hiking boots. “Nice Timbalands,” he adds.

I roll my eyes. Rico in flirt mode can be embarrassing sometimes.

Rader releases a sharp burst of laughter and glances down at his feet. “Uh, thanks” he says, then turns his attention to me. “So hey, I was wondering. Are you busy this afternoon? I need your help with something and was hoping to meet with you.”

He shifts his weight to one leg, tucks the fingertips of his free hand in the front pocket of his jeans…and my neck prickles turn into an itch that needs serious scratching. What in the world is going on? Maybe it’s his hormones. No, wait, that’s a female thing.

“Earth to Dray, come in Dray,” Poe jokes in a nasally tone, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

I blink and brush her hand away. “I was thinking about my work schedule.” And why my EWS keeps going bonkers around this dude. What are those things boys have? Pheromones? Yeah, pheromones. Maybe it’s his pheromones blasting off of him like bad B.O. Except it’s not B.O. just—

“You only work part-time, mija. Is it that hard to figure out?” Rico quips.

The sharp kick to my ankle, from Poe, presumably, gets my attention. I glance up at Rader to find him staring at me with a crooked grin. Get a grip, Draven. Now you’re acting like he’s the star quarterback.

“I’m done at two today. You?” I ask, reaching down to rub my ankle. Brat. She’s gonna pay for that.

“Me, too,” he says.

“Good. Do you like coffee?”

“They know my name at The Perkolater.” He names a coffee house on the corner of McDowell and Seventh Avenue that serves organic tea and coffee.

“Scary. Ever been to CoolBeans Café on Third?”

“No, but I’ve been meaning to check it out.”

“Fabtastic. I’ll meet you there at two-fifteen.”

“Great. See you then.” He waves to my friends and walks away.

I turn back to the table and see Rico leaning out of his chair trying to get a last look. He sighs wistfully and props a chin on one hand.

“I really wish he was gay.”

* * *

CoolBeans Café is a coffee/deli place located in a cute historic house. It’s also a popular hang-out for the students at Craycroft. Rader is already in line when I arrive. After paying for snacks, we walk around the converted house, past the kitchen where Vanessa hands out food, and check out the porch. Then I take him back to one of three non-smoking rooms.

“Do all the rooms have a theme?” he asks as we sit down.

I grin, knowing he’s thinking that because of one of the rooms where I like to sit. I refer to it as the Mother Nature Room due to the “Save the Environment” theme. The used books on the small bookshelf are about natural healing, saving the environment, and nature.

“No, they don’t. This one just happens to have one.”

He nods. “Nice. I like this place. Has a beatnik-type atmosphere—”

“—where some guy is dressed in all black, wearing a beret and reciting poetry that doesn’t rhyme—” I pick up the thread.

“—and everyone snaps their fingers when he’s done cuz it’s so good,” he finishes.

By that time, we’re both laughing. I can’t help it. It’s the same impression I got when I first discovered this brightly painted, eclectic place.

“They have poetry slams on Thursday nights and open mike nights out on the porch on Mondays. I’ve yet to go to one, but I’d like to sometime,” I say, removing the lid from my strawberry yogurt and stirring it with a spoon.

“Definitely sounds like an experience. The closets are so small, but it’s neat how they made them into display cases for all that stuff.”

“Yeah, I never would’ve thought of doing something like that.”

He points at the walls. “Are the paintings from local artists?”

“Yep. So’s the merchandise. The books are from estate sales.”

“Nice. So, you come here a lot?”

“Everyday, actually. In the morning for breakfast and sometimes for lunch.”

He nods. “So this place used to be a house?”

“Uh-huh. It’s been a coffee shop for about eleven years. The ladies who run this place, Jules and Van, told me it used to be a real estate office, a pet shop, a knickknack store, and a karate studio.”

Do I sound like a travel brochure or what? Gawd, just shut up and eat your damn yogurt.

“Well, it’s definitely…interesting,” he says, looking around the room again.

“I have to agree with you on that. That’s why I love it. It’s an acquired taste though. It’s not for everybody. Mostly the creative types, I would guess. No one really knows about it so it’s still like a secret.”

He swallows another bite of his blueberry muffin before sipping his drink. “Yeah. I know all about secrets.”

I pause at the telling remark, then put the spoon in my mouth. Unless he’s murdered someone, I’m pretty sure my secret leaves his flatter than roadkill.

“I don’t know what I would do if someone found out something really private about me. Although, freaking out to the point of sedation seems like an accurate reaction,” I say aloud.

“I was going to wait til Friday before approaching you. I never thought you’d do it on your own. That was pretty brave.”

“Well, I’m a pacifist and I don’t like things being left in limbo.” Can we say, major understatement, boys and girls? “I don’t hold grudges for very long, unless the person really pisses me off.” And then I’ll just turn you over to the Feds. “I just kept thinking about it. I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it, really. It just bothered me, I guess,” I say with a shrug.

“It bothered you that I might think badly of you.”

I glance over at him, before taking another spoonful of yogurt. “I suppose you’re right. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you, Rader. You do that loner thing so well. No one really knows much about you because you hold your privacy under lock and key. It must seem hard for you to trust people. And you have no reason to trust me or what I say….” I trail off with another shrug. If I keep doing that, my shoulders are going to get stuck around my ears.

“You don’t happen to have a degree in Psychology, do you?”

Taking a sip of water, I shake my head. “No. I learned a long time ago that I’m more of an observer than a follower.”

He leans back in his chair and sprawls his legs out. “Like me.”

“Really? So you over-analyze and rethink everything into the ground, too?” I joke.

He lets out a laugh. “Yep, that’s me. Levelheaded to a fault, unlike my—” he breaks off abruptly and shifts in his chair.

I become still, waiting. When he says nothing more, I probe, “Unlike your what?”

He glances at me, then away. A small smile comes, then disappears. “Unlike someone I know.”

“Mmm,” I murmur, positive that hadn’t been his true response.

“How did you get into the spa?”

“How did you get a job there?”

“I asked you first,” he shoots back.

“Invitation. You?”

“The same.”

Well, isn’t this some snappy repartee. We stare at each other for a moment, letting our words sink in.
I speak first. “How? Why?”

“Long involved story. You?”

“The same,” I throw his words back at him. I know how to be close-mouthed, too.

Rader sighs, shakes his head and finishes the rest of his blueberry muffin in silence. I take his lead and do the same. I scoop up the last spoonful of strawberry yogurt and set aside the empty carton. Taking a sip from my bottled water, I sneak a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. His chewing is methodical and he’s staring into space, unblinking. What’s he thinking about? My Curiousity Door has been flung wide open and I’m suddenly convinced that he’s trying to ask for my help. Without actually coming out and asking, because, y’know, that’s how guys work.

The silence is starting to get to me, and though I’ve been sitting here with him for what seems like hours—but probably only about twenty minutes—the prickles on the back of my neck keep reminding me of his presence. It’s a crawling sensation, not unlike an ant skittering across your skin before it bites you. I realize I’m going to have to break the silence and hurry the visit along before I turn into a slapping, scratching lunatic. I lean down to pick up my backpack.

“Well, this has been fun, but I have homework and—”

“I know someone else who worked there,” Rader says quickly, coming out of his self-induced trance. “He… had to leave for medical reasons and told me about an opening there.”

I straighten up. “That story doesn’t sound very long or involved.”

He grins. “Yeah, well, I’m not used to talking about myself much.”

And yet Taffy knows so much about him. Go figure. “So what exactly do you do there?”

“Most of the time, I check in people at the desk in the Men’s area. I help out at the main desk, too, sometimes. But I make sure everything is stocked, make sure everyone’s comfortable, things like that,” he explains.

“So you’re not a janitor or landscape person?”

He gives me a look, chin down, one eyebrow quirked. “Did you see my uniform? That’s no janitor’s outfit,” he says dryly.

“So you don’t give massages or anything?”

He shakes his head. “No. You have to be certified for that.”

“Right. I figured that.”

He tightens one hand into a fist and attempts to plow the fingers of the other through his gelled hair. “Your friend, though, she seems kinda… protective.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Poe? Really? What gives you that idea?”

“I think it was the silence, the unblinking stare and the way she crunched down on her sucker like she wished it were my head or something.”

I burst out laughing. “I didn’t notice that. Sorry.”

“She moves to a different drumbeat. She transferred to Craycroft from a public school. She’s a little wild, never fit into any of the cliques there, y’know? She had little jokes for them,” I say.

“Jokes? For the cliques? Like what?”

“Like for the popular crowd: they’re so trendy, people imitate their acne. For the geeks: they’re so geeky, their sandals have built-in socks. For the Goths: they’re so freaky, the circus ran away to them….” I trail off as Rader laughs aloud. I laugh too, remembering Poe’s account of the kids at her old school.

“That’s not the best part,” I add, still laughing.

“What could be better than that?”

“She has one for your girlfriend.”

Errrrrrrrrrrrrrt. My smile abruptly disappears. Oh. Snap. Did I just say that out loud? I take a quick peek at Rader. He doesn’t look mad. I take another peek just to be sure. Definitely not mad. Is that a smirk?

“Does she now,” he says, then lets loose with a chuckle-snort. “Can’t wait to hear this.”

“Oh. I…uh….” I giggle nervously. “Did I say your girlfriend? I meant—“

“Oh, you can’t get out of it now, girl. It’s too late for that. You put it out there. I’m interested now. What does your friend say about Taffy?”

I study his expression carefully, openly searching for signs of anger. The only thing I can see is lingering amusement in the depths of his slumberous blue eyes. I blink. Slumberous blue eyes? Gack!

“You really want to know?”

“Sure. Why not? I’ve heard the stories. Taffy’s nowhere near the perfect person only she believes. So go ahead. Roast away.”

I practically rub my hands in evil glee. No, wicked glee. No, no. Glee. Just glee.

“Well, Poe thinks she’s so conceited, mirrors get exhausted. And Rico thinks she’s so blonde, her highlights have highlights. Yeah, that’s a gay thing,” I say with a flick of my hand.

Strangled noise from Rader.

“Anyhow, my favorite is, she’s so naïve, she was born yesterday.”

His laughter is louder this time, drawing attention from the other room. He leans his head back and wipes his eyes.

“That was terrible of me,” I say without a hint of remorse. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

“I asked,” he says after one last chuckle. “Besides, it’s true.”

“Then why do you go out with her?”

“Because she’s beautiful and popular and a gossip queen. I’ve found out a lot about the people at that school.”

“All lies, I’m sure.”

“Mostly exaggerated truths and rumors started by her, but she has her uses,” he says, taking a sip of his drink.

For what? I want to ask. On second thought, I don’t want to know.

“But she doesn’t make you laugh,” I point out.

“No. No, she doesn’t.” He looks at me like he wants to say something else.

I feel my eyes go wide, a blush steal up my cheeks… and the prickles tap dance up and down my neck. Hoo-boy. Is my hair blown back? I think I’ve just been blasted by pheromones again.

“So, you’ve known your friends for a long time?” he asks.

“Only since school started in August. I’m new here, moved from New York. How long have you known Taffy?”

“Eight months.”

Eight months seems to be the magic number with this guy. He tightens one hand into a fist and plows the other one through his hair. He swallows twice.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“It’s nothing.”

“I agreed to meet you here. You said you needed my help. Remember?”

“Right. I did. I mean, I do,” he says, rolling his lips inward.

I fold my forearms on the table and lean on them. “So what do you need?”

He looks up and gazes at me, still saying nothing, and I start to get anxious.

Then he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, opens his eyes again and stares directly into mine. “I need you to help me take down The Royale Treatment Day Spa.”

Oh. Snap.
———————–
Can’t figure out what’s going on? Read the Prologue and Chapters 1-4 HERE

August 27, 2010 | Follow Fridays,The 4-1-1 on Me

Today and tomorrow is your last chance to add “your two cents” to Chapter 4 of A Royale Pain: A Draven Atreides, Teenage Informant Novel. Comments close on Sunday, but stop back by on Monday for the 5th and final chapter.

It’s Follow Friday. It’s even better because today happens to be payday for me as well. Woot! Guess who’s hittin’ up BN this weekend?

Blog Hop question of the week: What is the first book that you remember reading?

Truthfully, I don’t remember the first book I ever read. Don’t know if my Mom does, either. I loved Shel Silverstein‘s Where The Sidewalk Ends, anything by Beverly Cleary and by the time I reached high school, I was addicted to adult series romance. I still am. LOL.

To join the fun and make now book blogger friends, just follow these simple rules:

1. Follow the Follow My Book Blog Friday Host {Parajunkee.com} and any one else you want to follow on the list.

2. Follow our Featured Bloggers – http://bookge3k.blogspot.com/

3. Put your Blog name & URL in the Linky thing.

4. Grab the button up there and place it in a post, this post is for people to find a place to say hi in your comments

5. Follow Follow Follow as many as you can

6. If someone comments and says they are following you, be a dear and follow back. Spread the Love…and the followers

7. If you want to show the link list, just follow the link below the entries and copy and paste it within your post!

8. If your new to the Follow Friday hop, comment and let me know, so I can stop by and check out your blog!

Technorati Tags: Shel Silverstein, Where The Sidewalk Ends, Beverly Cleary

August 25, 2010 | Inner Mean Girl 40-Day Cleanse,The 4-1-1 on Me

I’m participating in the 40-day Inner Mean Girl Cleanse.. For 40 days, I am joining women around the world to cleanse my system of 6 toxic habits of my Inner Mean Girl (gossip, comparison, judgment, expectations, and obligations) and replace them with self-loving habits instead.

Today is the kick-off.

The Mission: To refrain from All gossip for the next 7 days

This means:

Being the Gossip – Talking or writing about a person who is not part of the conversation.

Colluding in Gossip. Adding commentary and thoughts to a conversation or communication that create gossip.

Witnessing Gossip – Standing by and listening to other people gossip.

Watching Gossip – Tuning into any form of media that promotes or shows gossip.

For the next 7 days, I’m rockin’ the Good Talk and kickin’ Ms. Gossip to da curb!

You, too, can cleanse your Inner Mean Girl (she’s kinda cute for a mean girl) for 40 days. For free! Yes, you heard me right. For free! No nasty pills, no bad-tasting drink that makes you hit the pot 5 minutes later, and no funky diets. You can still join, just click on the link at the beginning of the post and get your cleanse on!

Technorati Tags: 40-day Inner Mean Girl Cleanse