Category Archives: … at Not So Everyday Things

Once, Twice, A Hundred Times a Lady

Posted on Dec 10, 2012Written by Lindsay Scouras

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Well, here we are. Or should I say, here I am. My 100th post. You see, it may seem like I only started blogging once a certain forest creature invaded my apartment just a year ago. What many of you may not know is that I actually started this blog all the way back in 2008. And when I say “blogging,” I mean I registered on Blogger and wrote a single post about a one Miss Britney Spears and didn’t return for five months. If you’d like to see how it all began you can catch up here.

But to understand how this really began, we have to go back. Way back to the days before blogs and Twitter and the Internets. Okay, only one of those is true. But other than having a Live and/or Dead Journal, I had never heard of blogging or knew anyone who did it when I was in college. I had always loved to write, and once I transferred to a school that actually had a functioning newspaper, I knew I wanted to be involved. The problem was that I really only wanted to write about one thing: student government. 

I’m totally kidding. Obviously it was celebrities. 

Looking back, I’m not even sure how I convinced anyone to let me write about this, let alone allow me to have a weekly column. But it was with The Clock that I finally found something that I cared about and a group of people that were totally okay with me being ridiculous. That’s huge when you’re a transfer student and also hot mess. 

It took some searching, but I finally found my first ever Lindsay’s Look:

remember these two? ah, those were the days.


As you can see, it was originally titled “Lindsay’s Look at All Things Celebrity.” I remember that I loved that title and I was so pissed at that time when one of the layout people changed it without my knowledge, and that it would forever more be “Lindsay’s Look at Celebrity Scandal.” Or at least until I graduated. 

That’s right. Reality is a cruel, cruel mistress. You get so comfortable and jaded in your little campus bubble, taking classes just because they “sounded interesting” and working for $5.50 an hour and being totally cool with it. With graduation day looming, people asked me what was to become of Lindsay’s Look. I had no idea, because I never imagined that I wouldn’t spend the rest of my days writing about the trials and tribulations of Tinsletown’s biggest disasters. My roommate and fellow editor Erin told me that I should continue my column in blog form. It seemed like a good idea, but I was too busy imagining my fabulous post-grad life (and applying for jobs to hopefully help me achieve that) to really buckle down and do it. 

Until almost a year later, when I decided I missed my creative outlet. I obviously didn’t miss it that much, because after that one post, I only composed two others in the following year. And the next year, one more. In two years, I wrote four blog posts and two of them were about Britney Spears. I know, this is shocking information.

Then, in 2011, about six months after I got married, things started to get more interesting. Slightly. After all the hubbub of wedding planning was over and I settled in being married and working everyday like a normal adult, I found myself kinda bored and completely unsatisfied creatively. I got back into the swing of things, mainly commenting on reality stars and whatever was happening on Glee. It wasn’t until the end of the year that I finally started to write about anything that actually had to do with, well, me. And weirdly enough? Those first Christmas tree posts ended up being my most read ever. For some reason it seemed weird to me that anyone would be interesting in listening to me talk about myself or my life or the food that Steve cooks for me. 

And that’s kind of where we’ve been going since then. I say we meaning me and those of you that for some reason choose to read this. There may not be many of you now, but I hope to continue to grow my readership beyond just the people that happen to click on my links via Facebook. Getting to know everyone through Boston Bloggers and attending the first Blog Better Boston conference were huge sources of inspiration for me. I love reading any and all comments, and lots of times there are only two of them, or none at all. But I like to respond to every one because I just want everyone to know how much it means to me that you took a moment to read something I wrote. I know I personally read like a hundred blogs on a daily basis and if I didn’t have to work or shower I would comment on all of them. 

So nothing crazy to say here. I know a lot of you are expecting the 2012 Christmas tree story (which I promise is coming) or some other witty commentary on someone famous being ridiculous somewhere, but for now I just wanted to reflect on this. It only took me four years to get to one hundred, which I guess is kinda sad if you think about how many days that is, but it’s still a milestone.

But in case you need some reminding as to why you came here in the first place, take a look back at some of my personal favorite posts:


So there you have it. I look pretty good for one hundred, eh? 

Again, thank you for reading. And please keep doing so. You’re the best.

~L

Published under: ... at Not So Everyday Things

Some Folks Like to Get Away Pt. 2

Posted on Oct 22, 2012Written by Lindsay Scouras

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When we last left our heroine, Lindsay was barely still standing after a rousing three hour tour of the Maine Maritime Museum. After starting to show sign of extreme hangriness (for those that aren’t medical professionals, being “hangry” is an affliction caused by hunger that leads to anger), Steve finally recognized that she needed nourishment and human interaction. 

Ugh, my apologies for all the third person narrative. Even I can’t pretend I’m okay with that. 

We set off for one of the “Maine” attractions (GET IT?!) on our getaway:

cue the hallelujah chorus. for steve anyway.
I would just like to say despite the fact that I am not very outdoorsy, I actually like going to the Freeport L.L. Bean. It’s really amazing. It’s basically the Disney of the outdoors world… you know, besides actually being outdoors. 

Of course, I had to dress appropriately. That calls for flannel.


But like the museum, whatever slight interest I have is by no means any comparison to what Steve feels for it down in the depths of his soul. I mean, just imagine if you finally felt like you returned home:

is that not the face of man overwhelmed by sheer happiness?

I was actually really excited, because like the Girl Scouts and Fenway Park, the Bean is also celebrating it’s 100th anniversary this year. They had tons of cute celebratory things. 

wait, they sell food here too?
tiny boots

Steve had also been waiting to finally see the Signature collection in person. And let’s just say, he was pretty excited.

money can buy happiness. for $250.

They even turned a section into a kind of pop up museum. Obviously this is where we spent a large portion of our time. 

joy.

Despite the fact this store is open twenty four hours a day, we were not there long enough for Steve to actually decide what he was going to purchase. I can see how that would be difficult when you have to choose between forty pairs of boots with the slightest variations. Which meant…

We were coming back the next day. 
this is the closest to us getting a picture together this whole time.

We checked out of our hotel and headed straight to The Wild Oats Bakery for lunch, because we were so overwhelmed by the amount of food options the day before that we knew we had to return. We still had trouble deciding… so we just got everything.

you haven’t really lived if you’ve never had a grilled goat cheese sandwich.

I had learned from the previous days that I needed to load up on carbs whenever I had the opportunity, because day trips with Steve sometimes means five hours without a solid meal. 

Before making our last Bean stop, we had a slight detour. That somehow involved the biggest indoor flea market I had ever seen. 


Okay, I guess it’s called “antiquing.” Or as I know it “finding dirty old things that make me sneeze.”

I’m half kidding. I actually found some cool things. But everything was so dusty and I couldn’t breathe and again, we were there for a solid three hours. But more on that tomorrow. 

Back to the Bean. After much deliberation, Steve finally picked out his perfect pair of boots:

all mine, baby.

These aren’t just any boots, though. These are the 100th Anniversary special edition Bean boot. You know they’re special because they have red soles. You know, just like Louboutins. 

It was love at first sight.

is this love that i’m feeling…


And me? I met this bird. We developed a very special bond.

Just kidding. It was a good time. But I really did take like twenty pictures of that bird. 

~L


Published under: ... at Not So Everyday Things, ... at Picture Taking

Some Folks Like to Get Away

Posted on Oct 20, 2012Written by Lindsay Scouras

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Remember a few weeks back how I said that Steve and I don’t have regular schedules, therefore rarely spend time together other than having dinner at 10:00 pm? We agreed it was high time to fix that and decided to go away for a weekend. Which for us, meant Sunday-Tuesday. 


We decided to get away for a few days somewhere cheap (thank you, Groupon, for allowing poor folk everywhere to get hotel rooms and go out to dinner for pennies while making us feel fancy), close (because it doesn’t matter how inexpensive the room is if you can’t afford the gas to get there) and with the perfect mix of activities (for him, obviously) and relaxation (for this girl right here). 

So of course, we went to Maine! 

Now Steve and I have very different ideas of what a Maine getaway should be. I grew up going to Old Orchard and York Beach, so I have an affinity for boardwalks, day trips to outlet malls, and as my mother calls it, “honkey tonk.”

Steve prefers places that claim to be part of “America” but are really moonlighting as Canada. 

So we met in the middle/wherever Groupon would guide us. Which was Brunswick. 

We arrived first at the lovely Captain Daniel Stone Inn. You’re going to have to take my word for it, because I didn’t take a single picture of the hotel room, because the second I opened my suitcase it exploded and the room looked like a disaster until 10:59 Tuesday morning. I did appreciate the fact that they were rocking it old school giving us an actual key. When was the last time you even saw one of these at a hotel?!


Later, we called my friend Amy and basically invited ourselves over for dinner, which she and her husband were totally fine with because we hadn’t seen them since their wedding last October. You may remember their nuptials because it inspired the only episode I’ve ever suffered of a fear related exercise routine in order to fit into a certain bridesmaid dress for their wedding. 

The next day, we embarked on our Maine adventure. It began in what I guess you would call the “downtown” area of Brunswick where we discovered our new obsession: The Wild Oats Bakery. In case you were wondering, myfitnesspal was not invited on this vacation. Because everywhere we looked, we saw this:

And this:

Also, this:

I was in a food coma and I hadn’t even eaten anything yet. We quickly decided that we would enjoy breakfast that day, come back for lunch tomorrow and also get desserts for the ride home. Hello, vacation.

I settled on a cinnamon bun the size of my head. I also fed my brain with some classic 80’s Trivial Pursuit that they provided on every table.  
From there we continued on to… Bath. Yes, this is an actual town. Actually, it reminds me more of a village. I can tell the difference, as I went to college in a village for a year and a half (shoutout, Cazenovia!). Remember Stars Hollow, the beloved fake town that provided the perfect setting for a plethora of mother/daughter shenanigans on Gilmore Girls? It was like but without all the teen mothers. At least I assume so. It was cold and rainy, so Main Street wasn’t exactly teeming with locals. It was cute though, so I took advantage of all the quaint photo ops. 


Bath is known for making boats and iron working. So of course they had their very own Maine Maritime Museum. At first, I was totally gung-ho for this because believe it or not, I actually do like history. Not like, Steve’s level of history, but it was one of my favorite subjects in high school. Plus, I could only imagine the sheer amount of nautical artifacts. 

This may have been a mistake. Steve warned me that he couldn’t just go into a museum like a normal person. I already knew this, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to throw a little culture into this trip. 

Three hours, one hundred and twenty eight pictures and one very grumbly stomach later, we finally left. There were some things that were really cool. You know, if you like fish and boats and stuff.

if only.

signed by two presidents. fo real.

that thing on the right is from the front of an actual boat. also it probably has a real name.

steve said he wants this above our bed. like i can handle that after the ship wheel.

But there was also a lot of reading. And wandering. I tried really hard be a historically supportive wife. I tried for every store I’ve ever dragged him to, for every Reese Witherspoon movie I made him take me to see in the theater. But after a while I sort of gave up on the exhibits and just started taking pictures of nautical elements that could someday be framed to compliment a certain couple’s bedroom. Or something. 





While part of me died and went to nautical heaven, Steve was the one who was really in all his glory. 

But his excitement didn’t end there. Up next- our excursion to the motherland:
L.L. Bean.
Stay tuned! I may have even donned some flannel for the occasion. 
~L

Published under: ... at Not So Everyday Things, ... at Picture Taking

Pick A Little

Posted on Sep 26, 2012Written by Lindsay Scouras

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Steve and I went apple picking yesterday. I know, thrilling stuff, right? 

I haven’t gone apple picking in years. Mainly because I barely eat healthy food that I can buy from a grocery store, let alone having to traipse around outside and gather it for myself like some sort of early settler. 

But it’s fall in New England, and this is just one of the things you’re supposed to do. Plus for the first time in weeks, we actually had a day off together. For all of you out there with normal schedules (or “real” jobs, as Steve calls them), it’s probably no big deal for you and your husband/life partner/cat to carve out some quality time to spend together. For us, it’s slightly more difficult due to our unconventional schedules, hence why we often eat dinner at 9:30 pm. 

Mondays are our Sundays, in that we can usually swing being off together and doing errands and grocery type things. Correction: Steve goes to the grocery store on Monday and I sleep in until he comes home and so rudely wakes me. But this is also the day where we do couple things, like go to the gym together. Okay, so that’s not normal either. But I did go with him yesterday, which was a mistake because he made me do level four on the elliptical. LEVEL FOUR. 

After this, the plan was to go apple picking at Steve’s beloved childhood farm Tougas in Northborough. And by that I mean he went there as a child, not that he used to live on a farm. Ew. But since this was our only day off together, we had to do other less fun grown up things too- like look at mattresses. Yep. Lindsay and Steve’s Apple Picking/Mattress Buying Day of Fun. 

So we headed off to his beloved Tougas. I had obviously dressed for the occasion with the perfect ensemble for a crisp fall day. Or at least, what I thought was perfect. 

Steve: What are you wearing?
Me: This is my apple picking outfit. Well, apple picking or if I was going to sit in a ski lodge. I would have to change the boots though. 
Steve: Okay, you are inappropriately dressed for BOTH OF THOSE THINGS. 
Me: What am I supposed to wear?
Steve: I don’t know… SNEAKERS?!
Me: Ick. 

BTW, there was a slight pit stop on the way to the farm because we realized that my car was overdue for an inspection. Whoopsie. We all know what happened last time I let that one go.  Apparently, I looked slightly out of place at the local body shop.

Steve: You look so inner city right now.
Me: Okay I really hope you mean “city.” 
Steve: Whatever, you don’t belong here.
Me: I KNOW. 

By this point it was almost three o’clock. But it didn’t matter! Because even if it killed us, we were going to pick those damn apples. As we drove up to the farm, with rows of apple trees lining the quaint New England windy roads, we envisioned all the amazing things we’d do with our foraging. Well, Steve envisioned and I crushed all of his dreams. He had to think outside the box because he already knew of my disdain for apple pie (I KNOW, I’m horrible, stop reminding me). 

Steve: I could make apple crisp.
Me: Eh, I don’t really like soggy apples. 
Steve: If you make it right, they’re not soggy.
Me: Okay, then I don’t like cooked apples. I don’t like chunks of cooked apples in things that are supposed to be dessert. 
Steve: Well then, excuse my language, but you are just shit out of luck. Your mouth is not a fun place.
Me (the most offended I’ve ever been): WHAT?!
Steve: I’m sorry, but for the person you are, your taste buds are bland. You like plain cupcakes-
Me: Classic.
Steve: Plain. You like brownies, and that’s it. Oh wait, you like the worst frosting in the world- fondant. No one likes the taste of fondant. Your palate is BORING. 

Of course, after that exchange, I was determined to be a fun person to do things with. I was going to frolic around that damn orchard with the best of them. I was going to look fabulous while picking apples that I was going to eat uncooked right off the core. It was going to be the best fall day he’s ever had in his twenty seven years on this earth.

Until we got to the farm and found out it was closed. 

Yep. You know our Sunday? No matter what way you slice it, it’s still Monday. And they’re open Tuesday-Sunday. 

It was soul-crushing. 

We sulked a little while around their farmstand and ate our emotions in the form of homemade sandwiches and apple cider donuts. I took the opportunity to take pictures of at least some fall paraphernalia because I knew that by the time we had another day off together, there would probably be snow on the ground. Which could technically be October, but still. 


Instead of crying in the parking lot or just stealing apples off of the closest trees to the road (both of which I considered in my inner emotional meltdown), Steve used the powers of technology and some website that he found that helps you find where you can pick things. I’m serious- this is how he found the Christmas tree farm. And we all know how that turned out. 

The closest place was Honeypot Hill Orchards in Stow. So there we went. And it was glorious. Mainly because they let us in. 

You have to decide when you walk in how many apples you’re going to pick. If they would let you choose like four I’d be all over it.


There’s two of us, so the obvious choice is…

Sixty mother-effin apples. And a few pears for good measure (I don’t eat those either). 

Did I mention that Steve is allergic to red apples? 


But why let that spoil the fun?

Know what does spoil the fun? All the cautionary signage warning us about the dangers of careless apple picking. 

i could use a double alright.
I let Steve do most of the apple handling. But I helped too.

Did I say help? I meant pose for pictures in my poncho sweater with as many props as I could find. 

 

hey look what I found.


Actually I did pick something: 

Yep. All me. 

All in all, it was a really great day. Even though Steve refused to buy me a caramel apple. He thinks paying for a single apple on a stick covered in delicious caramel is ridiculous after he’s already lugged sixty apples around an orchard for an hour that were already ours. What a weirdo. 

a happy weirdo.
and we did.


If you don’t hear from me in a while, it’s because I’m drowning in applesauce. Which I also don’t like.


~L

Published under: ... at Not So Everyday Things

My Impossible Dream: The End of the Olympics

Posted on Aug 18, 2012Written by Lindsay Scouras

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Okay, I know I’m a little behind on this one, but the Olympics is finally over. And may I say, thank you, Baby Jesus. I know that this is the one time every two years that we take a break from chastising everything that is wrong with America and find solidarity by way of Spandex and sweat, but frankly, keeping up with this is exhausting.

For starters, every citizen of the great US of A is well aware that NBC could not get their heads out of their asses with their showing of the games. Yes, I know nothing about television production. Yes, I understand that there is a very inconvenient time difference between us and merry ole England. But other than just blatantly giving away the recipients of gold medals prior to the airing of their event, I had to listen to my husband shouting at the television as if he was directly hooked up to the NBC controllers via blue tooth. Things like: “okay, we have just watched seven different forms of track races and NO ONE is paying attention to the POLE VAULTING going on in the background!!! Hello?!?!?!” or “I don’t give two craps about (athlete’s name here) personal life, SHOW US THE DAMN GAMES!!!” Which is ironic, because those Bob Costas back stories about the athlete’s daily carb intake featuring videos of them as forcibly trained babies were about the only thing that kept my interest during this seventeen day everysportathon. 

Of course, I’m still me, so I couldn’t help but treat this event as almost like an award show. I mean these people were the closest thing I had to celebrities all week because my DVR was conveniently too full to capture any form of Bravo programming (further exacerbated by the fact that my go to channel crossed over to the other side and aired half of the games themselves- don’t they know what treason that is for a gay network?!). 

So I have to decided to give out my own personal Lindsay’s Look statuettes: Olympic Edition. Most of them are negative so this is one case where winning isn’t really winning. Oh also, none of this has anything to do with athletic ability or talent. We’re talking about stuff that really matters. Like hair clips. 

mazel tov.


Worst Hair (Gold Medal): 
USA Gymnastics Team


I know I am going to get hate mail for even putting these girls in the same sentence as the word “worst,” but there, I said it. I’m sorry, I just could not get over the sheer lack of effort here. I mean you train your whole life (like, all seventeen years of it) for this moment and glory, and that is what you do to your hair?! That is how my hair looks for ten minutes at the end of the day when I am washing my face, and my husband still makes fun of me and how ridiculous I look. I expect scrunchies from other non-fashion forward countries but this is America. We invented sock buns. Well, probably not considering the girl I learned it from on YouTube seems pretty Russian. And don’t get it twisted- this has nothing to do with Hairgate 2012 because a.) I know nothing about African American hair, and b.) who the hell cares about the front of her hair and whether it was relaxed/straightened/gelled/hermetically sealed, because how was anyone able to look past the haphazard half bun that she and all her teammates were sporting in the back?! They were bouncing around all floppy and totally distracted from their performances in my eyes, which is really all that matters, because well, these are my awards. I call for something slick and secure for Rio 2016!

Worst Hair (Silver Medal): 
Russia


So in this case, getting the silver medal is actually a good thing because you don’t want to get a gold medal for being the worst at something. Get it? Side note: I think I have a future as an Olympic judge. You know, when it comes to the important things like an athlete’s physical appearance or victory dances. So the thing that kept Russia from eating it in the hair category was the fact that at least the girls had some neat, normal ponytails going on. But the glitter. Oh, the glitter. And scrunchies. And those metal snappy clips. It’s like everything I wish I could forget about my 90’s childhood. Maybe Russia is so far behind with their time zones that it’s actually just now 1996 there. Other than that, I really can’t explain a need for any of this. 

Best Hair: 
Alysia Montano

So for all you haters that say that I’m being so mean to those poor teenage gymnasts, they’re so talented and flying off bars, how are they supposed to make their hair look good, wah wah wah, check out this lady. She friggen ran like fifty miles an hour with a flower in hair and it stayed. So I don’t want to hear that a girl swinging on an uneven bar couldn’t have made just a little more effort. Yes, Alysia came in fifth, but hey- at least she has a memorable signature. I mean, I remembered who she was, so that has to count for something, right?

Most Adorable Athletic Enthusiasts: 
Will & Kate


I mean, c’mon, could these two be any cuter? Well maybe, if it weren’t for William’s receding hairline. But still, cuteness city. If there was ever a time that people were calling for these two to procreate, it was this moment when they were watching tennis or handball (whatever that is) or something.  They probably could have conceived a child right there and they would have received a standing ovation from the crowd. Though it probably helps when you own the country. Although do you hate her a little bit for make a white polo look so good? No? Just me? Okay. 

Second Most Adorable Athletic Enthusiasts: 
David Beckham & a child that is not Harper

Ohemgee-this-is-like-all-the-puppies-and-kittens-in-the-world-and-that-fabric-softener-bear-cuteness-rolled-into-one. Who knew Becks was such a doting father? Although I guess someone in that family has to be the affectionate one. We all know that’s not exactly Posh’s strong suit. 

Best Meme (Gold Medal): 
The Queen (Remixed)
I can’t believe I didn’t think of this. Literally while watching the open ceremonies Steve was counting all the countries that had flags featuring the Union Jack. When I showed him this, he yelled “we could have been rich!!!” and cried a little. 

Best Meme (Silver Medal):
McKayla Maroney is Not Impressed

I love that she made this face while excepting her silver medal. As the sister of a pageant queen, I know that first runner up really means first loser. That face should be the poster for the term first loser. Okay, obviously I know she’s not actually a loser, I mean she clearly also has a gold medal and I don’t no matter how much jewelry I acquire. But this reminds me of at award shows how all the nominees that don’t win are expected to clap politely and be pretend happy for the actual winner. This bitch is not pretending. She’s downright pissed and she doesn’t care who knows it. I sort of like her more for it. 

Best Dressed:
All of These People


As if the Olympian’s bodies were hard enough to stare at for two weeks and not feel like a complete and utter failure, England showcased their most well known export- stick figures that could walk for days. But seriously, how fierce is this all ages living model montage? I literally gasped when they popped out from behind those billboards of themselves. I would wear every single thing that each of them is wearing. Even the guy’s gold suit. And the headdress. Together. 

Worst Dressed:

Face Dress Sign Holder Girls

I’m serious, this may go down as one of my top worst dressed people ever. I mean she’s like above Gwyneth in that goth wife beater gown but below anything Helena Bonham Carter wears (hey, where was she? She’s British and weird. Would have fit right in at Opening Ceremonies). It’s bad enough there was one of these dresses, but in fact there was one for every country. Apparently they were made to represent the faces of all the volunteers for the ceremony? I’m sorry, I would have rather received a nice fruit basket. Everything about this is wrong- the shape, the shoes, the sleeves. Blech. This makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit. At least she figured out how to do a good bun!

Biggest Trend:
Bodysuits

Olympics go Gaga? Yawn. Is nothing original?

Second Biggest Trend:
Neon

Okay, I take back what I said about (certain) athletes. Both the men and women were very on trend with most of them sporting an assortment of neon shaded sneaks. I am very impressed… some one has been reading InStyle…

Ed. note: Apparently Nike makes these shoes in these colors because your eyes are drawn to them and you want to buy them. Also they’re technically meant for function so I take back what I said about these runners being so stylish. 

Most Overexposed:
Every New NBC Show


Dear God, NBC. Please. I get that now is like make it or break it time for advertising, but frankly, I am no longer interested in any of your upcoming fall shows. Revolution is clearly a movie that J.J. Abrams convinced someone to stretch into a series, Go On is another chance for Chandler to redeem himself after Studio 60, and I just don’t care for shows or movies where a primate is one of the principal cast members. But of course I will watch The New Normal because it’s from Ryan Murphy and I love Glee and anything Glee adjacent. 

Greatest Spice Girl Reunion Moment: 
Um, ALL OF THEM! But Especially This-


I basically only came around to being okay with this whole Olympics taking over our lives thing because I heard the Spice Girls were reuniting for the Closing Ceremonies, which is why it really sucked that it took us so long to get there. I have loved Sporty, Scary, Baby, Posh and Ginger (she was my favorite!) since I was eleven when I caught their first ever American television performance on SNL. I had a VHS tape that I recorded anytime they appeared on TV. I cried when my parent’s wouldn’t drive me and my friends to the opening of Spiceworld at the local movie theatre because there was some stupid snowstorm and they were “worried for our safety.” I also cried when we worked diligently on our lip sync version of “Wannabe” and were not accepted into the West Running Brook talent show because we were in sixth grade and the eighth graders wanted to do it too. I also cried and held a candlelight vigil (for one, obviously) in my bedroom when Ginger left the group. So you could say I’m a life long fan. I kick myself every time I hear about them doing something because I can’t believe I didn’t get it together to go to their reunion tour. So help me, if this musical gets off the ground and comes to the States I AM GOING. 

Most Horrific Spice Girl Reunion Moment: 
We Almost Lost Posh!

I mean, she’s no one’s favorite, and it would leave Becks as a single man, but oh the horror when she almost flew off that Mini Cooper!

Photos courtesy of Yahoo, USA Today, Style Blueprint, Gizmodo, IMDB, ABC News, Imgur, Nick Verreos’ blog. Don’t bother suing me, unless you accept payment in the currency of things that cost less than $10 from Forever 21. 

~L

Published under: ... at Not So Everyday Things

I Don’t Feel So Alive

Posted on Aug 14, 2012Written by Lindsay Scouras

0

Ugh, I’m sick.

Not like I have a cold sick. I get colds and coughs and general snottiness all the time (I know you just had to know all of that. You’re welcome). 

If you asked me on Saturday night, I would have told you I was dying. Alright, I guess that’s a little overdramatic but I was in such pain that death seemed imminent. After going to the E.R. and whatever other doctor I could find (thank you Urgent Care, for taking in a dumb twenty seven year old young woman who STILL hasn’t found a primary care doctor in Massachusetts despite taking up residence here for the past three years), it’s pretty much a guarantee that I have a kidney infection. And it suuuuuuuucks. Not just because it sucks anytime you feel like a part of your body is failing on you (or in my case, rebelling because I’m not so good with the eating healthy/exercising), but because the pain I have felt in conjunction with this has like totally imobilized me. 

I am now on day three of sitting on the couch/doing nothing and even I am bored with myself. Did you know that there’s only so much Bravo you can watch before you lose vital brain cells that prevent you from performing basic functions? Combine that with painkillers and you’re basically a useless blob. I always wish I had this many days off in a row, but that was to hopefully you know, accomplish something. The pain in my side has prevented me from putting away my laundry, blogging (!!!), painting my nails, washing my hair (I don’t want to talk about how long it has been) and performing any motions other than walking back and forth to my bedroom.

So needless to say, that’s why I’ve been sort of MIA. And not in a cool way like the rapper, as in like absent in the world. Especially blog world. Which really sucks, because now would be the perfect time to just get a whole bunch of crap done. But when you feel this horrible/are in a oxycodone haze, the last thing you can do is pull yourself together enough to compose a Friday’s Fancies, Olympic wrap up, or a montage of adorable photos from my first ever maternity shoot (taking the pictures, not being in them. After the discomfort I’ve been in I can tell you that having a baby is the LAST thing on my brain right now).

In short, this is what I can deduce from living the past three days as a vegetable:
1. I miss humans. Real ones, like other than the other sickly people in waiting rooms and every person on Bridezillas.
2. I don’t really care for Aylin (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, you clearly didn’t just watch six episodes of The Glee Project IN A ROW).
3. Microwaveable heating pads are the greatest invention ever (can you believe in the old days they had to be plugged in?! psh).
4. It’s okay to abandon all of your fashion rules when you feel like crap (I went to the E.R. in socks and sandals- I KNOW) but you still have to brush your teeth.
5. Husbands are the best. Well I don’t know if all of them are, but mine certainly is. I knew this already, but it pretty much hit home when I woke up this morning and realized he labeled all my medications in black Sharpie because it’s really hard to tell them apart in a drug induced haze. 

So that’s where I’ve been. I’m hoping after this round of antibiotics I’ll be back to my regular self. Because the version of myself that I have been for the past seventy two hours is someone that no one should want to be friends with. I’m thinking about breaking up with me. 

~L

Published under: ... at Not So Everyday Things

Oh Say Can You See

Posted on Jul 31, 2012Written by Lindsay Scouras

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Hey, did you know that the Fourth of July is my favorite holiday? No? Well then you must be new around here. Welcome. 

After spending all night packing every nautical item in my wardrobe, it was finally ready to begin our annual Portland trip. On the way, my friend Alisa and I stopped in Wells to catch up with some family friends and to celebrate my mom’s birthday.

These two are just so hard to be around. They’re so shy and quiet you can’t even stand it:

Just kidding. Mikey is hilarious and my sister is practically famous. Also her name isn’t Jennifer. 

My mom’s birthday is July 3, so usually a large birthday/seafood dinner is in order. Of course, what kind of birthday would it be if you weren’t being humiliated in front of an entire busy restaurant?


Not a very good one, I can tell you that. Because I personally love being sung to in public. I’m serious. I will welcome this level of publicity anytime. However my mom looks less then thrilled at what is happening here, which I imagine will be similar to the emotion she feels seeing that I posted this picture. Love you, Mom! 

It was time for Alisa and I to get going. Partially because it was getting late but also because Mikey kept referring to me as a female Jason Mraz. 

After spending the night at Alisa’s brother’s house, we were horrified to find out that the weather forecast for the Fourth was not what nautical dreams were made of. This didn’t stop us from our usual caravan trip to the grocery store where we stocked up on all of the essentials. 


How many times did you say that day you “wanted a hot dog real bad?” I’m going to guess no less than five for us. 


I personally try to stay away from berries of all kinds, but I appreciated the color palate. 

Speaking of accessorizing, how bummed was I that the horrendous downpour prevented me from sporting so many of my planned outfits? Well I can tell you, not as bummed as the fact that Steve showed up in this:

I only wore ONE outfit that day. It was depressing. Also depressing? Cancelled fireworks. That’s right. It was like not having snow on Christmas. Or picking out really cute outfits to ride your bike in and then your husband tells you you have to wear sneakers. But that’s a story for another day. 

Despite the elements, we did not let this ruin our annual group photo shoot. 


However, getting there was tricky. There was a lot of this: 


And this:
Honestly, I’m still not even really sure what was going on here: 
Followed by our annual “rap group” photo (note that almost every part of this trip is annual):


Which quickly turned into this:


Of course none of this would be complete with Brent’s annual (there it is again) red, white and blue margaritas. Because nothing says patriotism like a Mexican cocktail.


After recovering from the sadness of see NO FIREWORKS AT ALL we ventured out the next day when the weather was of course, finally beautiful and perfect. Alisa and I insisted on at least something of a beach day and the boys relented, despite the fact that Rocky couldn’t find his one bathing suit (I think the biggest headscratcher here is HOW COULD SOMEONE ONLY HAVE ONE?!) and Steve hates the beach. 

We went to Scarborough where we were quickly ambushed by an entire camp that happened to be visiting the beach that day with counselors that virtually paid no attention to what they were doing, which was running on top of our blanket and kicking sand all over us on their way to the trash can. Before you say that I’m a horrible person who doesn’t like children (which is only partially true, some of the time) even my kid-loving husband (ew, wait…) had enough after he got hit in the side of the head with a Frisbee. 
At this point Steve left us to return to his week of fishing far away from ocean water and nautical costume changes. Alisa and Rocky and I continued on for our annual (get it?!?!?!) quest for lobster rolls. And not only did we find them, we totally trumped last year:
We continued walking around Portland for as long as the meter would have us. I love Portland, Portsmouth, basically anything to do with a port and cities that look like this:

I also appreciated that many of the storefronts were in on the patriotic theme as well: 

All in all, it was another great trip despite the rain and the gross amount of underused outfits. Thanks to everyone who housed us, fed us, and put up with our baggage (I mean literally- there were so.many.bags.). While I was super bummed to wear so few of my patriotic duds, I kept many ensembles in mind for my upcoming post-Portland trips. Here’s a brief rundown of what I actually made it out wearing during our three day adventure:

Just to be clear, those are my pajamas in the first pic. Yes, those are red, white and blue too. I don’t mess around. 

~L

Published under: ... at Not So Everyday Things

Guess Who’s Back?

Posted on Jul 26, 2012Written by Lindsay Scouras

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Did you miss me?

Okay, so I may have taken an accidental hiatus the past few weeks. I went on like three trips, which is three more than I’ve taken all year, let alone in three weeks. I say my hiatus was accidental because I brought my laptop to many of these places with me and didn’t crack it open once. Sorry, folks. I missed you though.

So needless to say, I have tons of recapping/updating/photo editing/unpacking (yes, still. I’m the worst) to do. Tomorrow is my first full day off without plans in a long while so I’m locking myself somewhere with WiFi hoping to get some things accomplished. And if I don’t… it means it was nice out and I went to the pool instead. My life is so hard. 


So let’s be friends again. Because I’m sad and lonely without you, Internet. 

even steven (get it?!?!?!) has been begging me to blog
again. or maybe he just wants me to leave him alone so
he can watch olympics coverage in peace.

~L

Published under: ... at Not So Everyday Things

Now They Say It’s MY Birthday

Posted on Jul 2, 2012Written by Lindsay Scouras

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I love presents. Yes, I said it. I know that people are supposed to be all humble and like “oh, I don’t need any earthly possessions. All the gifts I need are love and happiness and health and that’s all.” Yes, all those things are great and everyone should have them, but c’mon- getting presents is FUN. There, I said it.

I would also like to point out that I love to give presents as well. And buy fancy cards that my husband says we can’t afford. And gift-wrap like I had my own room in Candy Spelling’s house. So it’s definitely a two-way street. Presents are awesome and anyone who says otherwise is LYING. 


My twenty seventh birthday is looming. In fact, it’s exactly a month away (July 31 ya’ll!). If you couldn’t tell by now that I’m a Leo I don’t know why we’re even friends. Unless we’re not friends yet, then please, stick around.

I decided what better outlet than the blog to transcribe my ultimate birthday list? Before you get all cranky on me, part of the reason I’m doing this is because people are always asking me what I want for Christmas & birthdays, and this just seemed like a good forum in which to present such a list. Also I’m digitally continuing a tradition that I have been upholding with my mom since I was in high school. She would always ask me what I wanted for Christmas, and I started making these elaborate scrapbook style collage lists complete with photos, just in case she had no idea what I was talking about. She saved them all somewhere and would always get comments from salespeople about what a good idea that was.

See? So in thinking of myself, I’m really helping others. 

So in case you were thinking of sending a gift, or if you just want a longer list of the things that Steve has forbidden me from buying for myself, I give you…

LINDSAY’S ULTIMATE 27TH BIRTHDAY 
LIST EXTRAVAGANZA 2012!!!!!

Thomas Paul Scrimshaw Plates

I am obsessed with these plates for obvious reasons. Part of the reason that I want this set is because I am already the proud owner of the Moby Platter. I mentioned in a previous Mall Madness Monday post that Steve was in a tizzy over this plate because it was plastic. In fact, these are all plastic. However I think it’s the perfect casual set to use outdoors. Do I have an outdoor space? No. Of course not. But I’m thinking of the future/things I want immediately.


Poppy Razzi Collection by Essie
After Nail Polish Inventory 2012, I have basically been forbidden from owning another bottle, which is why I haven’t purchased any of these for myself yet, despite the fact I’ve had at least four Ulta coupons pass me by since these came out. I need these for two reasons: 1.) The name of the collection and the individual colors are all camera-related, and 2.) The candy-colored shades are all perfect pops of summer color.


Most Talkative by Andy Cohen
I don’t think it’s a secret that I’m mildly obsessed with all things Bravo. This book supposedly gives lots of dirt on the Housewives, which is definitely something I need more of in my life. Also, we didn’t do the whole superlative thing in our high school yearbook (too many damn people, I guess?) but I would hope if we did that this would be something that Mr. Cohen and I would have in common. 


This Means War on DVD

I don’t care what the critics say, Steve and I saw this in the theater and I loved it. Then again, I’m slightly biased because Reese Witherspoon is my favorite actress of.all.time. I have almost every single one of her movies on DVD (and some on VHS!) so I need this to round out my collection. 


NH State Pride Necklace by Kris Nations
I know I’m technically a Masshole now (driver’s license and all) but I will always consider myself to be from the Granite State. There’s lots of variations on state shaped jewelry out there, but this I happen to love because of the name spelled out inside. I mean, that’s an awfully long name to fit inside such a small state. These ones are available through the Nordstrom’s website, which would probably be the least expensive thing I have ever coveted from there.

Let’s Pretend This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson

I only discovered The Bloggess a few months ago, but apparently Jenny Lawson has been at this for years. Around the time I started reading was when she announced her first book was coming out. Obviously I’m all for supporting my favorite bloggers in any capacity, and releasing an actual book is like a huge deal. Plus she’s just super funny and I can’t wait to read this.

Perfect Skinny Glitter belt in Gold by Ann Taylor
I’m all about skinny belts lately. Especially if they’re claiming to be perfect. I have also been wearing a lot of gold and I think this little belt would be a nice accent for an ensemble. I think I really wanted one from J. Crew but I’m not sure if it exists anymore, at least I couldn’t find it using the powers of the Internet. 

Touch Cut Away Tank via Roster

So this tank has been available forever in Roster, but only the Sox version. I am always on the hunt for more girly Bruins things to wear (not a pink hat, but do jerseys have to be so boxy?) and it wasn’t until April that I finally saw this version pop up. Probably because I had been personally begging Alyssa Milano to show us a little love. Well maybe it’s more cause the B’s finally took home the cup. Anyway, this one has to go on the birthday list because I could never spend $60 on a tank top for myself. Well I could, but not even a Bruins logo would convince Steve that that was a worthwhile purchase. 



Initial Signet Ring by Jennifer Zeuner

I have a love/hate relationship with Lauren Conrad, because I am bitterly jealous of all of her success but I love everything she wears. When I saw her sporting one of these monogrammed signet rings I was all like “ahhhh omg I have to have it.” I like that it’s old school (Prince William wears one instead of a wedding ring!) but I would rock it on my middle finger a la LC and not on the pinky like the leader of an Italian mob family. I would be happy with either and “L” or my full on initials, but again, minorly obsessed with gold at the moment. Also it could really be from anywhere, because this one is almost $200. Maybe if I had LC money this would fly, but I mean, I could get like twenty dresses on clearance for that at Forever 21. 



Top of the Rock by Warren Littlefield
I read something online somewhere (I know, great details here) about this book and I heard it was really interesting. Plus as someone who started watch Friends in fourth grade, I feel like I grew up in the Must See TV era. Also as someone who has a husband that is still quoting Mad About You (which I find utterly confusing as I’m pretty sure we were in like, elementary school at that time) and who makes me watch Wings every morning, I think this book could spawn some interesting conversation topics. Also I love any sort of behind the scenes entertainment tell-alls. Show me your surprised face.

West Avenue Large Monogram Necklace by Max & Chloe
I think it’s obvious that when it comes to jewelry, my least favorite mantra is “less is more.” Why not have a gigunda necklace of your initials?! Like every blogger in the free world, I discovered this via the fabulous Atlantic-Pacific and now I’m just obsessed. 

Cards Against Humanity via Amazon

If you’ve never played this game before, you probably have never had real actual fun in your life. Also you’re probably a good person. This game is for bad people who know they’re going to hell and might as well have fun before their handbasket arrives. It is basically a super-offensive version of my favorite game, Apples to Apples. Make sure to play in a judge-free zone. I tried it once with friends and I absolutely need my own. 

Of course I am in no way implying that I am expecting to receive all of these things or that I need them all. This is just a momentary fantasy in which I’m indulging myself via a birthday wish list. I promise to be less selfish tomorrow.


~L

Published under: ... at Not So Everyday Things

Let’s Go Ride A Bike

Posted on Jun 12, 2012Written by Lindsay Scouras

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So I’m sure that all you savvy readers noticed that in my Mall Madness Monday post last week, I may have mentioned that I purchased a bicycle. And I know that you have been salivating as you hover over your computer, waiting for details as to how I came to such an important decision. 


Like many other important life decisions, I devoted quite a bit of my time and energy thinking about this. Like, a full week and a blog post. Serious stuff. 

After being unsuccessful at not one, but two Targets, I took the opportunity to hit up the one in Salem, NH when I was home last weekend, because I figured if anything I would save on sales tax. I was pleasantly surprised to find that they even had any women’s bikes in stock at all, because the other two I had visited were sold out of every bike meant for a female over the age of six (sorry, Dora- I just don’t think it was meant to be for us). 

Although the pink bicycle with the basket was the one I was really hoping to see in person, they only had a similar model, sans basket. I was bummed, but even I knew that you can’t buy a bike on impulse via the Internet. In fact, the Lulu bike was heavier than I imagined, and I could barely lift it let alone ride it. But then I discovered the Schwinn Majestic and figured I would give it a whirl. The only thing is, it was really… orange.

But the more time I spent with it (i.e. riding it around the aisles in Target) the more I started to like it. Not only was it offensively orange, but it also had pink, yellow and white accents with polka dots! I wasn’t the only one who thought it was totes adorbs.

Eight year old in Target: That is a cool bike.
Me whizzing by her: I know, right?
Eight year old eating my dust: I should get a bike like that.
Me halfway across the store: You really should. 

So I was sold. And it was the only bike on sale, so I ended up getting it for $143, which was way cheaper than the $180 I thought I was going to be spending, which leaves just enough in the budget for a cute helmet! Which Target definitely did not have. 

ta da! cute helmet definitely not included.

Slight problem, as this was an unexpected shopping trip and I hadn’t really put any thought into how we were going to get it home. We were in my Nissan Rogue, which while it’s a small SUV, it would have been way more convenient had we been in Steve’s X Terra. Also these retro style bikes are totally not conducive to throwing them in a trunk as the fenders add a lot of extra metal to be concerned about denting. Which probably means I’m going to need to get an ugly bike rack or something. Ugh. 

After swearing under his breathe about his anger over how much stuff I had in my car (like boxes of old magazines that I refuse to toss out before I go through and clip out articles or pictures I may like), reconfiguring the bike every which way in my trunk without any sort of schematics, and slicing his finger open on God knows what, Steve was able to load the Majestic into the car for the voyage home. Unfortunately, home meant my in-laws garage as I don’t have anywhere to actually store the bike at my apartment. 

So it’s been over a week, and I hadn’t even seen the Majestic (okay, it just occurred to me that I really need a cuter name) let alone ridden it outside of the aisles at Target. Steve and I were both off today, and since he works at a restaurant and I work in retail, we like to pretend that Mondays are our Sundays. With the great weather today, it seemed like as good a time as any to test out my new bike. 

air steven

By the time we got to his parents house, loaded up the bikes and drove to the Milford bike path, it was 1:30 in the afternoon. Fortunately, this gave me plenty of time to figure out what I was going to wear. 

priorities

It had been so long since I had seen my bike, I almost forgot how adorable it was! And so appropriate for an (almost) twenty seven year old!


Now I’m not what you would call the most athletic, coordinated or graceful, and I don’t think that I had ridden a bike since I got my driver’s license. But I was determined to have  a good time and maybe even get in my weekly (okay… biweekly) amount of exercise. And if I was going to do it, I wanted to do it right. 

Me: So, what gear should I be in?
Steve: I am guessing that you will be a first gear girl for the rest of your life. 

Ouch. That’s accurate, but it still hurts. 

We ended up riding for probably a half an hour. I know. I need to work on my muscles. And stamina. And breath support. Also I am now on the hunt for the perfect basket. And this helmet. 

apparently, audrey hepburn is the only one that can get away with capris on a bike.

But this bike is called a “cruiser” for a reason. It’s meant for coasting!
watch out
After this we headed to the Purchase Street market across the street. After all the strenuous exercise, I need nourishment. Steve and I both indulged in our favorite lunches. 

cranberry walnut chicken salad.
apparently “small” is also code for “the size of your head”

tortellini salad. lunch of champions & cruisers alike

I’m exhausted from all that activity. So I’m going to need your help. What should I name my new bike? The Majestic sounds like an old boat. As much as I love all things nautical… we need a cute bicycle name up in here. 

~L

Published under: ... at Not So Everyday Things