...and the oldest of three girls. Yeah, you read that right, you’re looking at a first born AND an oldest daughter. Some people say “well Colee, isn’t that the same thing?” and no, no it’s not.

Because I could have an older brother, in which case he’d be the first born but I’d still be the oldest daughter. Thankfully, I don’t have one of those, which means I take the cake as oldest and first. Which, we can all admit, is as good as it gets.

Then you take into consideration my incredible and historically impossible pedigree and you’ve just stumbled into a gilded rock and roll well of dirty martini’s, gallows humor, tasteful swearing, and glittering charisma.

When I’m not machinating some half-cocked get-rich-quick scheme you’ll find me:

• channeling Bukowski in the corner of a dark bar

• curating a closet of overpriced vintage

• getting my doctorate in arm chair psychology

• waxing poetic about the mesmerizing beauty of the mundane

• traversing through fantasy realms by candlelight

• cooking up everything but the kitchen sink

• living to tell the tale