Category: It’s a She Thing

Attrocities


Thursday, September 6th, 2012

Yesterday was a busy work and housekeeping day.  So when Emme’s afternoon nap rolled around, my Preptember motivation was half passed nil.

But I made myself go upstairs and get to work.   I cleaned Dan’s bachelor era microwave and lugged it downstairs.  Today, he delivered it to a friend of ours needing a nuker.

Then, I tackled a massive Sterlite of clothes I’d been saving for awhile.  These were clothes that I wanted to keep.   After going through them, I have no freakin’ idea what I’d been thinking.  A burgundy velour tank with lace trim?  Pale pink cords?   Why did the salespeople let me buy these things!?!

When I saw a $158.00 tag on a maroon velour blazer I’d never worn, I just about flatlined…. until I saw the reverse side with the $29.99 price tag.  While there’s no excuse for buying something that says “Let me sell you a house!” I do feel slightly better that I hadn’t totally jumped the shark.

From this bin, I filled 3 large shopping bags for Goodwill.  I figure I should donate them soon, because I know people  will be looking for clothing just like this.

After all, Halloween is coming up.

 

When I Am Fashion Empress


Friday, August 31st, 2012
  • All handbags will have light colored lining to make finding things easier
  • All iPhone cases will be brightly colored for easily spotting across a room or in an overstuffed handbag.  (Noticing a pattern here? Yeah, I need to clean out my purse)
  • Only clothes tailored for a person’s bodyshape will appear when shopping online or searching Pinterest (damn you, skinny jeans!)
  • When asked,  clothing store sales clerks will be required to offer honest assessments such as “I’m sorry, but those pants do make your hips look huge.”
  • Said clerks must also make available emergency Frappucinos after giving three consecutive hips-don’t-lie assessments.
  • Retailers must enable alerts to notify online shoppers when a desired product has gone on sale.
  • Like fashion magazines, TV shows must offer the designer credits for the fashions worn by the actors or anchors.
  • No more ikat.
  • You too, wedge booties.
  • Bra sizes will be universal.  No wearing a 34F fin one brand and 32B in another.

I Like Blue…Leopard Things & Other Stuff


Saturday, August 18th, 2012

So here’s the non-kiddo related stuff going on in my life:

  • I constantly have three songs stuck in my head: Taylor Swifts “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together,” Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe” and Cookie Monster’s “Share It Maybe.”
  • I’m obsessed with dark blue nail polish.

  • I’m excited that Old Navy and kate spade are selling awesome leopard goodness.

  • I volunteered to organize our mini neighborhood garage sale in October.  Yeah, I’m a moron, but I did it for two reasons:  1.)  more households participating will draw bigger crowds (kow) and 2.) I needed the motivation accountability affords.
  • I can’t wait for Fall.  I blame all the clever Halloween-themed pins on Pinterest.
  • I’ve almost mastered a home version of my grande 1/2 caff soy caramel Frappucino using Starbucks Via! Iced Coffee packets and Central Market vanilla rice milk.  It’s good because I can enjoy my coffee beverage for a fraction of the cost, but bad because I have easy access to a sugary beverage that enhances my ass width.
  • I’m a big fan of the classic interview tactic where you sneak out to see an applicant’s car interior to judge his/her work ethic.  Right now, I wouldn’t hire me. I haven’t had my car professionally cleaned since the dealership gave it a quick wash and vacuum when I had it serviced in December.  Of 2011.   I plan on remedying that tout de suite.

The Ring


Saturday, March 26th, 2011

It was Summer 1997, shortly after I’d returned from the TCU-in-London program and right before I would turn 21 and leave for my White House internship.

My BFF and I headed to a strip center tattoo parlor.  My skinny ass was wearing a long, straight skirt I’d bought at H&M, a fitted white tee and my Doc Marten Fisherman sandals.   I’d scored the shoes within hours of arriving in London.  How do a bunch of college coeds beat jet leg?  Shoe shopping in Covent Garden!  As I walked through the Doc Marten store, I noticed this super-skinny old dude with two little kids and a platinum blonde big-haired wife.  It was like being in Dallas!  One of my coeds walked over to me and whispered “Is that….”  It clicked.  Yes, yes it was!  Attention Doc Marten shoppers, Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler is buying shoes. In Disney “It’s a Small World” fashion, it turned out the whisperer was from the same small Oklahoma town as the then-Mrs. Tyler.  They struck up a conversation that led to pictures and autographs.  Steven Tyler suggested we all see their show at Wembly Arena, so we did just that!

Flash forward to the tattoo parlor, where Carole and I took turns bellying up to a biker-looking dude.   In a matter of minutes, we both had pierced belly buttons.  Hers didn’t take so well and mine seemed to take an eternity to fully heal.  This was pre-low rise jeans, so it made for some serious discomfort.   It was never infected but always sensitive.  After DC, my Horned Frogettes and I hit a Fort Worth tattoo parlor.  I showed it to the piercer, who confirmed the first place had used too small of a gauge. He told me he could easily fix that.  I hopped on the table expecting him to simply replace the ring when a shot of pain surged through my already-sore naval.  Nope, no switcheroo.  This was a full on piercing with the stake through my belly button.

It healed quickly. Whew! A year later, it caused much concern for an anesthesiologist prepping me for nasal surgery.  I was his first pierced belly patient.  He wanted me to take it out.  I defiantly said “He’s operating on my nose,  not my stomach.”  He returned with a compromise: a mini Band-Aid.

It’s given me no problems for the past 13-1/2 years….until now.  During my last Dr. F. appointment, she pointed to my ring and said “This will need to go before delivery.”   NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.  Yes, I know that belly rings are passe, but I’ve had mine for so long that I wasn’t ready to give it up.  Sure, my stomach isn’t the flat pancake it was in 1997, but it could be again right!?!   I guess I always knew it would have to go, but I figured it would be during the ashes to ashes dust to dust portion of my life.    I dismissively ignored Dr. F.’s proclamation, saying to myself “Well, if it’s a C-section, okay…. if natural, Band-Aid!”

My recent expansion has led to a 180° policy reversal.  My stomach had started stretching to the point I could see the inner ring through my skin.  Not attractive.  Last night, I unscrewed the ball and removed the ring.  I placed it in a plastic baggie, not ready to completely toss away a part of my past.

In another 13-1/2 years, I’ll show it to Wiggles as proof that I wasn’t a total nerd.   Well, unless she’s a rebel with a penchant for attracting bad boys.

In that case, I’ll have the ring melted into a chastity belt.

Oh. It’s You, Summer.


Monday, June 7th, 2010

It’s time I take a Pollyanna approach to summer, my least favorite season…

I’m glad for the amazing A/C blast that hits me when I walk into my office.

I’m glad for the huge honkin’ iced tea that makes lunchtime’s 15 minute round trip bearable when Felix’s A/C doesn’t kick in for 10 minutes.

I’m glad for an excuse to eat coconut milk ice cream and drink soy Frappucinos.

I’m glad for cheezy, poppy songs that keep me singing and bouncing. (As I sing “Cal-i-fornia girls we’re unforgettable…daisy dukes…bikinis on top”)

I’m glad that while I can’t fit into a bikini, I can save big bucks at outerwear clearance sales.

I’m glad for the start of hurricane season motivating me to call the tree euthanizer.

And, most of all, I’m glad that summer brings me closer to fall, which is just a step away from CHRISTMAS! 😉