puppy talk

I've written about my lovely lovely puppy before - I'm obsessed with this gorgeous sweet wonderful dog! He really is a cutie. We adore having him in our lives.

Our neighbors got a dog a few months ago and now we are experiencing a canine communication conundrum. Remember that scene from "101 Dalmatians" where the dogs have a barking chain from London to the country? Well, this new neighbor dog is such an instigator! He gets all the dogs in the area howling and poor Lenny gets wrapped up in the middle of it every time! I'm also pretty sure that they are not barking about saving poor pup-napped dogs or anything else important.

While this barking situation is annoying, it also concerns me that in 2 months I will have an infant that will need to be SLEEPING frequently (let's not forget about my nap, either) and all this barking will not be good.

Here's hoping that the neighbor dog goes mute by May.

Breaking rule #1

Alright, folks. I am less than 10 weeks from my due date (May 7th) and I am quickly getting readjusted on the comfort scale. What I thought was uncomfortable before- was nothing!

During this busy and exhausting time, the husband and I are directing the local high school's spring musical and I really just considered wearing sweats to tonight's rehearsal. I am not yet convinced that I won't. Do I need a permission slip from Stacy and Clinton or Tim Gunn to be wearing sweats anywhere but the gym?! Does 3rd trimester pregnancy count?!

I am pretty pleased to see that the local weather temps are forecasted to be in the mid-40's and higher for the next 10 days- that means ballet flats. Easy on. Easy off. I need help even pulling on my uggs at this point- I CAN'T REACH MY FEET!! (bonus? A pedicure is a must- I can't do it myself!)



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Turn Left Now

Public Service Announcement:

Every car is equipped with something called "turn signals."

There is one to indicate a left turn and one to indicate a right turn. Either turn signal, right or left, is easily turned on by a simple lever. A car cannot make it through an oil-change let alone a yearly inspection without passing a test to see if they work.

Use of turn signals is required by law.

PLEASE USE YOUR TURN SIGNALS, PEOPLE!

Why on earth do people feel like the use of turn signals is an option?!?! Come on, folks! It's easy! It's the law! It's basic communication!

That's all. I hope you have all gotten something from this. I encourage you all to pass the word around about turn signals.

Guilty Pleasures

I usually spend Sunday afternoons racing around the house trying to get some chores done or trying to be super productive on whatever tasks I am facing in the coming weeks. This typically leads to my napping husband waking up (possibly because I shut the dresser drawers too hard or I dropped a bottle of bathroom cleaner- I drop a lot of stuff) and yelling at me for not relaxing and getting all worked up over cleaning the house.

This just makes me wish I had accomplished more. Sundays are typically my only day to get stuff done- between work, musical directing, church schedules, dog play-time and desperate attempts at getting to the gym/grocery store/car wash/wherever- chores don't happen throughout the week. It's a sore subject at our house.

However! I have FINALLY decided that I should nap or rest or enjoy generally lazy activities on Sunday afternoon. I chalk it up to the extra amount of tired that comes with pregnancy as well as the alarming inconvenience that it now is to make several trips up and down the stairs, carry stuff around, bend over/sit down/stand up or wear a mask while using potent chemicals.

My domestic instincts are struggling- but I am surprisingly enjoying this rest. Right now I am lounging on the couch with the dog asleep on my lap watching reruns of Scrubs.

While I am thoroughly enjoying this change of pace- I kind of miss crazy clean up days. Oh well- another day! Enjoy a day of rest, folks!

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What was I thinking?!

This morning I woke up thinking that I needed to find a project. A craft, an art or some kind of time consuming busy work thing.

What was I thinking?!? I am starting the third trimester of my first pregnancy, training my work replacement, co-directing a musical with my husband, raising a dog, decorating a nursery all on top of the standard list of day-to-day chores! What kind of crazy am I?!

I am desperate for a nap or an evening to do some laundry (good thing my husband and I collect clothes- we can survive unusually long spans of time between laundry days). I have guilt over leaving the dog at home alone for too long! More guilt over not giving him loads of attention when we are there. And while the nursery is painted and furniture has arrived- it is not decorated and there is plenty to do in that department.

What kind of project did I think I would start?!

Is it more troubling that as I am writing this I am thinking that I should learn to sew or go buy some paints?! I'm going to chalk this one up to pregnancy crazy and hope that this thought gently floats away until another - less chaotic - day comes.

To all you crafty artsy people... I envy you.

Ps- here is a quick shot of the nursery in progress- and part of the dog!


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Mobile (not Alabama)

Testing. Testing. 1-2-3.
In my quest for finding more time to write (you noticed, hasn't happened yet) I am attempting to become uber mobile and write from my phone when I can find a free moment on the go. So here we go!
Testing. Testing. 1-2-3.




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...And you were there, and you, and you, too!

I am mortified that it has been many many months since I have taken the time to sit here and type for a moment or two. I so enjoy writing these little thoughts out - I have just neglected to find the time lately. Truly, this is a shame. Many things have happened lately and surely, I should have told the www.

When last I wrote, we had been welcoming our puppy, Lenny, into our home for a few weeks. He's still here. He is almost a year old, just as stinking adorable and I have never met a more loving dog. Or a more needy dog. I have come to call him "Blister" because he is on you like a blister after a day of new shoes. My family has a habit of giving everyone a nickname or two or eight and will never again refer to a person by their given name after the nickname has been approved. Lenny has been called all of the following: Len, Lenny, Leonard, Lenny-Pie, Pie, Pup-Star, Tar-Tar (b/c my 2 year old nephew couldn't say "Pup-Star"), Mister Blister, Mister, Blister, Puppers, Pup, The POOPER, and so on. I am surprised that the dog knows who he is.

Not only does Lenny sleep on our bed, but he sleeps on my pillow. Well, half on my pillow and half on my arm. And he snores like a man. But he is so cute, who cares?

In other news, we have just started rehearsals for "Crazy for You" at a local high school - I love this project. Last year we had a blast directing "Wonderful Town" and I anticipate this year to be filled with all kinds of good times.

Last but not least - we are joining the parent club! That's right, we are expecting our first baby due May 7th, 2011! My husband has been yelling at me to keep blogging about the last few months of baby growing - and I wish I had, but alas - too much to do (and too tired!).

Lots more excitement headed our way - hope everyone has been well while I've been gone!

Changed for good?

The theatre person that I am loves to dress for the location. AKA- I enjoy a good costume. When I go to the theatre, I wish I could wear a gown (I realize those days are gone). When I vacuum I usually put on my heels & pearls. I feel like these environmental outfits make the occasion more special.

Ladies. The unfortunate issue of Clothing Appropriateness has come up several times in the last week and I need to take a moment to address a few thoughts on the topic.

I recently attending a stunning performance by Broadway Powerhouse Idina Menzel at the gorgeous Pittsburgh Heinz Hall. Seriously. Google it. It's a beautiful hall.

Ok. Never mind. Don't Google. I did it for you. Follow the link. Then check out all the options under the Heinz Hall tab at the top.

Heinz Hall Info

Alright. Gorgeous. Right? I know.

Back to the issue. While waiting for intermission to conclude I did what I always do (race to the little lady's room to beat the old ladies who take a really long time to go... and!) people watch!

I must say. I saw one young girl (there were lots of star-struck youngsters. Did you follow the Idina link? Didn't you notice that she is on Glee??) who had a really super cute dress on...

really cute ...for a backyard picnic. Oh, did I mention that she sported the backyard flip flops too? AND a black velour hoodie.

I know it's chilly in those classy places, but let's match the class in our wraps, ladies. And perhaps some shoes? (Flips are not shoes. I love them. Don't get me wrong. But they have NO PLACE in a theatre)

Second thought. Certain jobs require certain types of clothing. Other jobs allow you the freedom to be more creative and trendy in your choice of apparel. I am going to assume that we are all somewhat conscious out there and can step back for a moment and determine what clothing may be appropriate for your particular office versus what you can get away with. Let's put in some extra effort and maybe step up to impress (show the boss that you care?) and not just sneak the casual junk through.

Ok. Brief thoughts. That's all I have time for.

Be cute, y'all.

Blackberry Apple Juice

VS.

Or why everyone should own an iPhone.

There are many opinions flying around regarding various cell phones and their individual benefits. Top ranking iPhones and the thousands of different Blackberry brand phones often cause much debate around that New Phone purchase. Well. Today I was one-million percent convinced that iPhone wins.

I have personally owned an iPhone for about 2.5 years. That's right. The SAME iPhone (first generation, baby). I would have traded up... but the phone still works as wonderfully as it did the day I got it (we ARE trading up when this new iPhone comes out later this summer - just for kicks). Needless to say, my opinion has rested squarely on the side of iPhone for quite a while now.

The company that I work for has a large array of company phones that (unfortunately for them) are signed with a Blackberry carrying company and the frequency with which people trade in their phones in hopes of finding a bigger better version is dizzying. I take every opportunity to gloat in my iPhone glory when they complain about the ridiculousness and the frustration of operating these pieces of technology. On a very regular basis (at least twice a week) my boss looks longing at my iPhone while he pokes, shakes, flips and curses his Blackberry.

Today. Today, sealed the deal.

At the end of a very hectic (but good!) day I happened to be passing by the open door of an exec's office when a Blackberry came sailing through the doorway and bounced off of my foot, into my shin and then lay defeated on the carpet. I am positive that the surprised look on my face was priceless. I had been Blackberry'd. I laughed a nervous yet very genuine chuckle as I picked up this bruised (get it? Bruised? Like the color of a blackberry?) phone and handed it back to it's owner who grumbled of the frustration and hatred he harbored for the phone. As he apologized for the near fatal accident (fatal for the phone, not for me) he did not hesitate to hurl the phone into a corner where he was sure no one would be passing.

He has demanded a new phone be found tomorrow. Unfortunately for him, it will not be the iPhone. Maybe one day.

I share this story because I hope that everyone gets a good laugh out of it (I'm still cracking up) and if I can help sway anyone in the direction of purchasing an iPhone over a Blackberry - I can't think of a better tale of persuasion.

Puppy Love

We did it! We got my dog!

Friends, meet Lenny. Lenny, meet friends!

I have always loved animals. However, my pet-hoarding was kept at bay as a child by my very practical and wise parents (thank you). We had several pets while I was young. *technically, we had a few fish first... but I am going to bypass the fish that I cannot remember.

Pumper (named for a Pumper Fire Truck, courtesy of my then 4 year old brother - I was 2). I wish I had a picture of her (dad... a little help?). She was a German Shepherd / Beagle mix. Don't think too long about that one - it's a strange mix. She, however, was a great dog. She played, she protected, she obeyed -or so I remember. I was young, to me, she was perfect! She left us (cancer- very sad) when I was about 11 years old and my oh-so-wise parents decided we would wait a year or two before we chose a new dog (we were moving very close to that time and this was just smart).

A few weeks after we moved (I'm talking a month or so after Pumper went to the great kennel in the sky) we found ourselves at a breeder's home trying to pick which puppy we would take home. An adorable Brittany Spaniel puppy chose me. That's right. HE CHOSE ME. He was meant to be my father's hunting dog but I knew he would be my best friend - he chose me, remember? The breeder called him Nacho. Bad name. My father renamed him "Boone" -short for a really long inside joke of a name. Boone was awesome. Boone did not like me for long. He tolerated me - but I'm pretty sure he only put up with me because I knew how to get his treats out of the cupboard.

Boone never hunted with my dad. We couldn't trust him for nothing. We couldn't open the front door without having to contort ourselves around the 3 inch crack so he couldn't escape. I'm pretty sure he found a way to throw a party when my older brother and I left the house and he could have more of my mother's attention. But, boy, was he a beautiful dog. Boone left us a few years ago and left peacefully in his sleep. Despite his lack of affection for me... I still get sad and teary when I think about him.

**Tissue Break (I just told you about the tears - you should have figured this was coming)

Overlapping our time with Boone was a brief venture into the world of "why on earth did we get this animal" pets. A lizard (ew, right?) that was found in the new tropical plants at my father's work somehow made it's way home. He fried in his little home out on the front porch. Several fish won at the fair or purchased due to lack of winning one at the fair - all had their time in a bowl in our house. A hermit crab that must have been related to Hercules - the thing never had it's box cleaned or re-done. Never had a new shell, had a crack in his front claw, never got fed or watered, got thrown several times across a room (not by me!) and managed to live for YEARS. I know. I'm confused too.

I always wanted a cat. I was never allowed. I believe this is the root of my pet hoarding issues.

And this is an obnoxiously long post. Stick around for part 2 (and possibly a part 3) - coming soon!!

Do not pass go - do not collect $200.

Dear friends,

I have failed.  I apologize.  It breaks my heart to have to confess this to you tonight (or this morning, or whenever you happen to read this).

If you have not yet read my previous post on "Non-Buyer's Remorse" please do so now.  I will wait.  

Done?  Got it?  Good.  Continue.

Not 24 hours after writing that post I regret to inform you all that I, once again, refused to listen to those little voices telling me "do not buy this."  After bragging to you that I was making vast improvements in my ability to decipher the meaning of these buyer's agents I got lost in translation.

Pride cometh before the fall.

Today I had several items to return at the mall (not so much as buyer's remorse, rather a change of plans - definitely not the same thing) when I remembered that I had a gift card to Aldo burning a hole in my pocket.  Coincidentally... I had about 20 minutes to kill - PERFECT COMBINATION.  After strolling into the store and making a first pass over the shelves I narrowed in on several pairs that looked cute but not too crazy (you have to be careful in there).  The sales girl assured me that she would be more than happy to assist me in creating a veritable "shoe party" (her words, not mine) in hopes of finding the perfect pair.  After quickly nixing about 5 pairs of sandals that made my feet look really awkward (and they felt about that awkward, too) I worked it down to about 3 pairs.  Easy.  

first pair: didn't have my size in the color I would prefer - instant gratification, anyone?  Scratch numero uno off the list!

second pair: grey, low-heeled, open-toed strappy-but-not gladiator- sandals fit beautifully into my standard color palate of choice though not necessarily my style.  Considering.

third pair: super cute coral high heels - peep-toe, ankle strap much more my style... not so much my color.  Also important to know - I intended on purchasing a sandal, not this cute heel.

After several rounds of on-off-on-off-on-off I decide that I will be daring and get the coral heels.  My style - why couldn't I try a new color?!  Done!  maybe... nope, really!  Done!  Purchased!  

Ah!  Potential outfits are flooding my imagination!  Oooooh - so cute!  Except... wow, those are bright shoes in my imagination.  wow.  A little, um... distracting?  huh.  ok...  I can work around that... right?

Ok, at home.  Put on new shoes.  try a couple dresses and skirts...  wow.  maybe I need more self-tanner to make these work.  hmm.  

crap.

Sad sigh, but I'd rather suck it up and return the shoes then wait for something I really like that I will really wear.  Heavy heart.  Sad smile/frown.  Realization that buyer's remorse had hit and had hit hard.  alas, my friends... my regret is practically crippling.  Well, kind of.  Regardless, I extend my apologies and ask for your forgiveness.  I will continue to try to rise above this.

Sincerely,

A remorseful buyer

PS- the indecision over the shoes trickled into my choices of nail color.  2 full attempts (meaning fingers and toes) and a couple of sample toes later... I'm still polish-less.  

Non-Buyer's Remorse

We have all (at least I hope we all have... that's what I tell myself to make it ok) made those impulse purchases that we have later regretted.  A little buyer's remorse.  Occasionally we fret over making a purchase and after much debate we hand over the cash and later wonder why we didn't trust the part of our gut telling us to pass.

Yes, buyer's remorse.  The conversation in my head usually goes something like this:

"yeah, this was a good idea.  It's cute.  It probably needs a belt or a long necklace."

"I'm never going to wear this."

"I WILL wear it.  I WILL."

"Good thing it was on sale... it may never leave the closet."

"Good thing it was on sale... I love a great deal."

I try to pay closer attention to these little voices before I pull the credit card out of the wallet.  I have gotten better at this.  One day I hope to conquer this dreaded shopping side effect.

Almost even more annoying than a case of buyer's remorse is the dreaded NON-buyer's remorse.  Those moments when you misunderstand the voices telling you to "buy" or "don't buy" and leave that item on the shelf.  Naturally, the second you get home (if not before) your heart gets heavy, your breathing is labored and your ability to focus on anything else vanishes.  

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GET THAT ITEM.  IT BELONGS TO YOU (it should, right after you pay for it).  IT IS SITTING ON THE SHELF CRYING... WONDERING WHY YOU LEFT IT LIKE A NAUGHTY CHILD IN THE GROCERY STORE (I'm not condoning this action.  But the thought has crossed your mind, right?).  BUT YOU CAN'T GO BACK AND GET IT... NOPE.  SOMEONE ELSE HAS PICKED IT UP AND TAKEN IT TO CHILD SERVICES (the cash register) AND REPORTED YOU AS AN UNFIT PARENT (successfully purchased it and left the store).

There are many reasons why you may have passed up this item.  Perhaps you were pressed for time and the line to check out was far too long (and that woman already holding a bag from that store will inevitably have a complicated return), or the price tag seemed a bit too steep and you are trying to stay on budget this month.  Maybe you were on the phone with a friend and got distracted.  Whatever the reason, shame on you.  It hurts, doesn't it?

Today I am having the very subtle pangs of what may be a case of non-buyer's remorse.  It's over the silliest thing, really.  Yesterday I got my hair cut at a salon that has recently started to carry the product line from BLOW: nyc blow dry bar.  They specialize in the art of the blow dry.  Um... Can I go??  Please??  Regardless, the product line is lovely.  As usual, the salon experience ended with my stylist walking me to the desk and reviewing the handful of products she put in my hair, two of which are from the aforementioned product line.  I convinced myself that I didn't need to spend a collective $43. on what is probably 7floz of product that I have lived without thus far.  

 

Sigh.  Today, part of me wishes that I had purchased these uber trendy products and part of me is happy that those $43. are still in my wallet to spend on some other unnecessary thing.  I wonder what it may be - oh, the suspense!!  Wow - this almost feels like Christmas!

Early Retirement

I often wonder where it all fits.  Pick up any magazine and it will undoubtedly encourage you to make it's contents your number one priority.  

Fitness Magazine:  Exercise, Exercise, Eat Right and Exercise!

Elle: Be fashionable!  Spend money on TRENDS!

Martha Stewart Living: Bake for the masses!  Iron your bed sheets and tie sachets of dried lavender (from your own garden, of course) with ribbon made from silk you've collected from your garden of silk worms!

Gourmet: Buy the most exotic food regardless of price and prepare it as though it is from the finest french restaurant but never gain a pound (or accidentally burn it)!!

One of my favorite "let-us-tell-you-how-to-have-the-most-successful-and-rewarding- life-ever" mags is Real Simple.  Typically filled with practical household tips and tricks and the more practical "livin'-in-the-burbs" fashion trends, I find that it has a nice warm spot in my "Susie-homemaker-wannabe-life."

However, lately I have often wondered what it is that I am supposed to sacrifice in order to succeed elsewhere.  I find that I can do everything ok - but nothing great.  But what gives?  Do I give up my rare but much treasured trips to the gym?  Do I forego the household chores until it's unlivable?  Do I give up trying to maintain any sense of style?  Do I give up hygiene?!  Do I give up grocery shopping (this one I could be ok with - but the result of not eating is less than desirable)?  Do I give up reading (which seems to have happened)?  

Which of these "THIS MUST BE YOUR NUMBER ONE PRIORITY" priorities can I sacrifice?  

While reading the latest issue of Real Simple I have found that the Life Lessons story, "Can I Call You Back in Fifteen Years?" is a reflection of my life (and I don't have kids or dogs or other needy dependents)!  But I understand the overwhelming list of to-do's that pushes the people in our lives to the bottom of the totem pole.

Making time for my friends has always been a priority in my life.  It is probably the time that I feel is the most fulfilling.  Social Interaction.  But where does that fit in amongst the vacuuming, the shopping, the laundry, the job, the family, the rest of my life?  

Truly, this post is not a complaint - it is a question.  I adore taking care of my home and in no way resent the fact that I feel the compulsive need to vacuum my living room at least twice a week.  I enjoy ironing and spending time with family.  I don't mind running errands (but why are there always so many?!?!).  Really, I just want to know who has it all figured out that they can maintain their lives, their careers, their homes, their faith, their fashion and their friends while never being late with a bill payment.

As a Sunday evening winds down I am sitting on my couch taking some "me-time" to read a magazine, write this post and prepare to spend another week trying to figure out how to best organize my time - I say to you...  

Here's to the American Dream!

Poor slob without a name!

No one makes getting caught in the rain look as classy as Audrey.

Granted, the rain during the emotionally tumultuous ending of "Breakfast at Tiffany's" is a bit expected (really, aren't there ALWAYS thunderstorms in scary movies and in a chick flick -soft summer showers that catch a couple out on a beach just as they are realizing they may be in love - so too does our leading lady get stuck in a pelting downpour as she allows herself to feel something for not only her leading man, but also her cat).  I think we can all admit that rain gets over played.  

Despite the obvious artistic choices, I would love to look like Audrey while being caught in the rain.

(don't worry, more tea shop plans* to come - this is just a side note.  *see previous post)

I love wild thunderstorms that come out of nowhere and turn the sky so dark it makes the spring green leaves on the trees look electric.  Today, two such storms paid me a visit.  Which would not have been a problem had I not had a dinner party to get to.  Compounding the issue happens to be the fact that on my way home to pick up my husband for said dinner party, I had to swing by the pharmacy to pick up some pain killers for the hubs (threw out his neck - anyone else ever feel too old for their age?!?).  Again, this would not have been an issue except for the arrival of these storms.  

The first storm knocked out the power and therefore the pharmacy could not fill the prescription.  Very kindly, they sent their business elsewhere and I crossed the parking lot to Target to make a second attempt at getting the pain killers.  While waiting for the order to be filled I noticed a rather loud sound coming from the metal roof... another storm!  I am now 15 minutes behind schedule, still without pills or my husband and now I must go through the storm to my car.

Now 20 minutes behind schedule and soaking wet, I am finally able to deliver the medication to my ailing husband.  I run (it was more like a dejected saunter) upstairs to change into who knows what (I had intended on just wearing the blue and grey jersey wrap dress from work to the dinner party - but not so much anymore). 

Let's just say that my version of being caught in the rain landed me with frizzy hair, raccoon eyes and cold feet.  

Despite the unfortunate effects of being caught in the rain - 2 wild thunderstorms in one afternoon made my day.  I'll try a little harder for the Audrey look next time.

One lump or two?

I need a place!  I need a place to go to sit and chat with friends and snack a little snack and sip a little tea!  

I love me some Starbucks as much as the next caffeine addicted, trendy drink loving, always on the go girl - but what about those wonderful rare occasions when you can actually take an hour or so and enjoy that latte?  Even better - when you can enjoy your latte in a legit cup (not made of 10% post consumer recycled paper) while chatting with a friend?

This is my dilemma now.  In my current home town I have yet to find a cute little coffee shop / cafe that does not include a drive through, makes you wonder if the place is ever cleaned or requires you to enter through a cloud of smoke from the hippies puffing something outside the front door (nothing against the hippies - just the smoke.  for some reason the crowds of people who gather to smoke outside of coffee shop doors tend to dress in hemp-made clothing, wear birkenstocks and need a haircut).

This has inspired me to want to design and open my own place.  And then I want to sit there all day and welcome friends for a chat, a cup of tea and enjoy the social cup of happiness!

More to come as these designs take shape... I'm not kidding - this place needs to exist.

Anthony says...

While catching up on past weeks of Project Runway and folding laundry I heard something that is not said often enough.

"The one thing that never goes out of style is making a woman look like a lady." -Anthony

I have to say - I could not agree more.  

Women, step up and be a Lady!  In your fashion and your stunningly beautiful personalities!

Hair Raising!

I mentioned briefly in my previous purple post that the status of my hair (wavy vs. flat ironed) was more interesting to many a co-worker than the appearance of new glasses (not only NEW glasses, but glasses in general).

My hair has recently become a significant frustration.  After being forced (strongly requested?) to chop my half-way-down-my-back locks into a bob worthy of Teased-Eighties-Tresses for a play (THE PLAY.  THE BEST PRODUCTION EVER.  Noises Off) I have spent the last 4 years fighting the "to grow or not to grow" war.

"To Grow" has won the longer than necessary war and really should be embarrassed that it took this long to pull out the victory.  We all knew it would win from the beginning...  To it's credit, "Not to Grow" won several minor battles threatening any chance of a graceful comeback for "To Grow."  Regardless of the fight - we have a winner.  

My hair is now only a few (3? 4?) inches shy of my ideal length and is most certainly in a workable place.  I like the most recent color choice (interestingly enough - the darker the better.  I spent years and beaucoup dollars getting the highlights and wondering why I always felt so blah... give me some straight up dark brunette and I'm a happy girl.  Also note: Red is a very very poor choice on my head.).  So, "what's the frustration?" you ask?

I am disgusted with the cut.  Embarrassed by the fried-over-flat-ironed ends. Sick of my bangs and unable to find a stylist that lands somewhere between, "Oh, the shaggy short layers and choppy angles are in" and "Plain no layers with awkward bangs are in."  JUST CUT THE LAYERS AND THE BANGS THE WAY I ASK.  JUST DO IT.  

I would desperately love to grow out my bangs, however I have the dreaded "5 finger forehead."  "what is that?" you say - just ask Tyra.  On many a makeover episode of pick-a-season America's Next Top Model, Tyra will often bond with an aspiring model and console her fears of bearing the "5 finger forehead" or a forehead that is too big... So when I do not have my bangs covering my enormous forehead, I swear that forehead is like a beacon - no - a whole lighthouse of awareness screaming at anyone within eyesight, "LOOK AT MY ENORMOUS AMOUNT OF FACE ABOVE THE EYEBROWS!!!"  Needless to say - it is a cross I still struggle to bear.  

Additionally, I miss my wavy hair, which really only waves when it is long (we're getting there), however in recent weeks I have been very disappointed with the curl enhancing products that I used to love.  

This one is too crunchy!

This one is not curly enough!

This one causes too much frizz!

I hope that in finding a new curl product I can, in turn, reduce the flat-iron injuries and increase the health of my hair to a point where I can once again enjoy it.  I used to.  So here's hoping.  Any product advice is welcome - my experimental funds will dry up the second my husband sees an alarmingly enormous collection of new hair care.  

A lady's hair is her permanent accessory.  I need an accessory that I am proud to show off.

Purple Rain

While reading the always awesome and ever inspiring blog of my best friend Chelsea I made a long over-due realization about myself.  

This inspiring blog was about the very urgent need that comes over many a stylish lady this time of year to inject a sudden and severe shot of color into one's wardrobe.  As I nodded along to her appreciation for the color green (always a beautiful choice), I let my mind wander to my winter closet.  Like many, I live in the staples of greys and blacks during these bleak winter months.  The neutrals.  My neutrals.  **The brown earth-toney neutrals really don't make as frequent an appearance and therefore I consider them slightly less than neutral in my personal wardrobe.  Black and Grey securely hold that rank.  

My realization is not 

that black and grey outrank brown- but that a new color has pulled itself into the rank of "neutral."

Purple.  Wonderful, beautiful, dramatic purple.  

Typically, I go through color phases.  There was a very long Orange and Red phase... which led to just a Red phase, which made a quick turn into a Navy phase which morphed into a Blue phase that became a Blue OR Green phase and has landed me squarely into what has become pretty long Purple phase.

Over the last couple years my collection of purple items has grown into an enormous pile of plum: coat, hat, gloves (FYI: the previous three are NOT worn together.  Even I have a limit), purses (note the plural...), sweaters (plural), shirts (dress & casual), pens, post its, jewelry and soon to be my dining room paint color.  And I love it.  I did resist the urge to purchase purple glasses frames... they was really no desire... which means that I haven't gone COMPLETELY off the deep end.  

Over the last few weeks many people have made comments about my purple obsession and while I usually take a lot of pride in it I had a couple moments of "uh oh" recently.

1. Several people at work made shocked comments about my curly hair (it's naturally wavy, I straighten it most days to reduce frizz, for some reason no one at the office remembers that I have wavy hair and they always act surprised) while only one person made a comment about my new glasses (I wear contacts 99% of the time.  No one cares when I show up in glasses).  While commenting on my curly hair (for the second time in 15 minutes) a co-worker and my boss mentioned that I wore purple EVERYDAY this week.  **Let's interject here that the following colors were worn this week:

Monday: Charcoal and Navy plaid pencil skirt with grey sweater, grey tights and grey heels.

Tuesday: Black with geographic purple print wrap dress over black tights and black shooties.

Wednesday: Black cords, black shoes and green sweater.

Thursday: Grey pants, purple ruffle sweater and grey heels

Friday: Denim and burgundy/purple sweater with brown boots.

Ok.  Yes there is lots of purple.  But NOT everyday.

2. While walking through a crowd of people carrying a purple post-it note... I overheard a co-worker say, "the purple starts there."  ????

3. While shopping with a very good friend she put her foot down and said I was not allowed to buy another purple shirt.

4. Reading Chelsea's blog about neutrals vs. colors and immediately thinking of purple as my staple.

These are only a couple moments, but it is enough to realize that purple is a neutral.  MY neutral.  I have no choice but to embrace it.  I love it.  It suits me.  It's beautiful and classy.  It's dramatic.  And the financial investment of my current collection is enough to remind me that I can't give it up any time soon!!  

Play the Hostess!

My husband and I enjoy hosting people at our home, whether it be for a dinner, an evening of games or for an overnight visit.  We like to play host(ess).  

If for nothing else, it is a fabulous excuse to clean the house.  I love a clean house.  I used to say that there was nothing better than a well swept stage.  This is when I spent more time in a theatre than in my own home.  Now I have adapted this phrase a bit: There is nothing better than a well vacuumed floor.  ...or a well swept floo

r (naturally, this depends on the type of flooring you are attempting to clean).  

I am contemplating the most efficient way to clean my house in the next two days without it looking like I tried too hard.  Now, why on earth would I not want to clean so well that my home looks sparkling?  

My parents are coming to visit!  

My wonderful parents live about 11+ hours from my husband and I and we don't get to see them often enough.  While I would love to scrub the floors, dust everything in sight and somehow remove 3 cat's worth of fur... I know that my parents (my mother, mostly) would get irritated that I worked so hard after 18 years of trashing their home.  So, while I am catching up on episode's of Grey's from 3 season's ago and trying to write this quickly enough that I'll have time to paint my nails I am also wondering what in my house I should leave messy.  

I may just have to suck it up and clean the whole thing.  Or at least power clean the whole thing... let's be real.  I still have to go to work, the grocery store, the eye doctor and who knows how many other places.  

Here's to the Swiffer, the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser and the giant 10" long lint roller... my power tools.  

Let the cleaning, shopping, cooking, scheduling, shuttling, laundering and general pre-hosting games begin!  I may complain... but deep down inside (it's really not that deep, either) I love it!

Bottoms Up!

I like trends.  Really, I do.  If nothing else, they offer us wonderful opportunities to look at old photos of ourselves and laugh that, "oh my goodness, what was I thinking" laugh.  I have a particular picture of myself as a pre-teen in what I can only describe as a "Blossom" hat.  Remember Blossom?

My hat looked strikingly like the one in the lower right-hand image.  I wish I had that photo to share with you, however it is safely kept from the public eye at my parent's house!  This is a trend that many of us (I hope I wasn't the only one) got wrapped up in and fortunately, we all got out of it!

A trend that has lasted a few season's longer than expected is that of the leggings.  Around for a second time (or maybe the third?  the fourth?), leggings have seemed to find a happy place in many a celebrity's heart and therefore in the hearts of those that want to dress like a celebrity (I include myself in this category.  Kelly Ripa, anyone?).  Personally, I enjoy the occasional legging.  

Earlier today, my husband, nephew, bro-in-law, a friend and I went tubing at a lovely mountain resort.  Prior to venturing out into the snow, we grabbed some lunch at the lodge.  And here is where I saw the most unfortunate use of leggings that I have seen in a very very long time.  

You know when you stretch jersey (the material, not the state or the cow) it gets really thin - so thin that you can see through it.  If you did not realize this, please take this opportunity to file this  information away for future use.  Well, unfortunately, there was a woman who decided to wear leggings on the "slopes" and for whatever reason, took her snow pants off in the lodge.  Her tunic was really just a long shirt - not really intended for wear as a dress.  This image was special enough - but when said women bent over the fire to warm up her soaking wet gloves... the entire lodge got a sneak peak at her white underwear.  

*sigh*

Ladies.  It is not vanity that causes us to check out our butts from every angle in dressing rooms.  It is also not vanity that causes us to double check these vantage points at home every time we choose to wear any particular item of clothing.  It is a precaution.  It is a necessity.  Be sure that your clothes are not see through.  

So go ahead - check out your butt.  I encourage everyone to check out their butt at any chance they may get.  For the sake of those of us around you - check it out.