Category Archives: … at Not So Everyday Things
I’m not a particularly active person. But you know this by now. To me, spending time outside means sitting by the pool at my apartment complex. But recently I have found myself wanting… a bicycle.
Yes, you read correctly. I, Lindsay Michele (Scalera)Scouras, want a bicycle.
Okay, yes, I have not ridden a bike since I was fourteen. I’m sure my purple imitation Huffy is still hanging out in the basement somewhere at my parent’s house.
But I’m an adult now, and a stylish one at that. So I don’t want just any bike, I want a fabulous bike.
Have I actually tried any of these? Sat on them in person? Rode them around the store for a bit? No, not exactly. But every plan needs a solid inspiration board.
So I took to the Internet to find my perfect ride. Of course, most of the models I found cost more than my monthly car payment, but as I am well aware, style doesn’t always come cheap.
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| pottery barn teen nirve bike $499 |
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| target schwinn lulu rigid $180 |
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| lilly pulitzer printed cruiser $450 |
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| velorbis rosa royale price unknown |
I’m guessing Target is going to be where it’s at. That last one is actually my favorite, but if I’ve learned anything from hanging out in the fancy end of the Natick Collection, it’s that if there’s no price listed, it costs more than you could make selling your first born on the black market. Not that I’ve looked into that. Also it’s from like Denmark or something. It’s sold in two cities in the U.S. and the closer is Denver. So, yeah, not happening.
What does one wear to fabulously ride a bike? Since I’m in the market for a retro looking bike, I always pictured myself in a 50’s style skirt and possibly a scarf tied around my head, but even I wonder about the practicality of maintaining such a look. But in all the vintage photos I scoured, all of the women are wearing skirts on bikes, so it can’t be that hard, right?
Just for research’s sake, I decided to take to Google for the answer. Upon searching “What to Wear When Riding a Bike,” I was brought to the Bicycling.com website, in which it prompts you to enter the temperature, wind conditions, and how you want to feel when riding said bike. This was of no help to me, as “stylish” was not one of the options listed of how I wanted to feel, instead there were boring choices like “cool” or “warm” or the uber-descriptive “in between.”
I entered in some faux conditions and let them determine my ideal bike wear. Okay, so maybe a tea length skirt isn’t appropriate anymore, since you know, we’re allowed to wear pants now, but I was thinking maybe it would suggest a crisp white button down knotted at the waist and a cute pair of printed capris.
Instead, I got this:
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| ew. |
Seriously- the shorts are the “foundation” for a riding ensemble?! Those shorts invented the camel toe. And I’m sorry, I don’t wear fingerless gloves under any other premise than rocking a Madonna costume at an 80’s party.
Needless to say, I was in desperate need of a little bike style sass. So as always, I turned to Hollywood for the ultimate cycle inspiration:
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| i’m hot. literally, riding this bike makes me sweaty. |
Whoops, just kidding. How did that sneak in there?
I meant something more like this:
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| can you say perfection? |
And of course, on a daily basis, you have to ask yourself: WWBWD? (What Would Blair Waldorf Do?)
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| see? riding a bike in a skirt is totally practical. |
If you’re looking for your own two-wheeled inspiration, check out Hollywood Rides A Bike by Steven Rea. He even keeps a Tumblr of celebrities riding bikes– I’m serious, this is an actual thing. And you better believe I looked through fourteen pages of posts while “researching” this very crucial topic.
~L
Disclaimer: I am fully aware that none of the pictures I chose feature any sort of helmet or protective gear. I get it. Helmets are necessary always. I won’t even mention the shame of helmet hair or the fact that I am specifically looking for a cruiser bicycle and will never go more than five miles an hour. Still, I get it, and I’m going to also search for the cutest (and safest!) helmet possible.
Why hasn’t anyone invented a helmet headband by now?!
Today, my husband turned 27.
Without being mean, I have to say that that sounds super old. Also I should point out that I will be turning 27 in July myself, so I can say that. When I was younger I always imagined that 27 was the age I would have my shi*t together. Like it just seems so much more of an “adult” age than 26.
But regardless, Steve is pretty amazing as far as husbands go. So in honor of the anniversary of his birth, I decided to compile a list of the “27 Most Awesome Things About My Husband.” These are in no particular order, so don’t get all upset that the schmultzy stuff is mixed in with things that have to do with television and other very important elements in a relationship.
- He cleans up very well. Not that he’s not handsome all the time, but the man looks good in a suit.
- In college he would always wake up early on snow days and go out and brush off my car. He still does this and often helps other women in the parking lot that are struggling. Either he’s super-chivalrous or he’s found a new way to prey on vulnerable women.
- He literally keeps me alive, because he makes my lunch and dinner everyday. Sometimes breakfast too. And all of it tastes good.
- He is the best housewife a girl could ask for. Way better than I’ll ever be. In addition to cooking, he is a whiz at laundry. He gets my whites whiter then they have ever been before. He also hates when I tell people that, but I’m so in awe that I can’t help it so I tell everybody.
- He has had the same group of friends since middle and high school. The camaraderie between this group of guys is amazing and creepy at the same time. Seriously – they should be studied.
- He is an excellent male nurse and takes really good care of me when I’m sick. Sometimes he even brings me flowers, but I think he just does that to distract me from the nasty Theraflu he’s always trying to get me to drink.
- He’s very polite. He opens doors for ladies and always helps people in the parking lot when they need to jump start their cars. Even if those same people continue to hit our cars with their doors.
- He wears striped polo shirts and boat shoes like no other.
- He deleted the Stanley Cup championship games off our DVR before we went on a trip to make room for all my recordings. That is love.
- He’s very smart. Every time I question the location of a country he always knows where it is. Although he also writes down what I said because supposedly he is working on a “Lindsay” map that is a more accurate portrayal of where I think things are.
- He’s gotten me to try food that I never would have looked at before. Although I’m still iffy on the whole squash thing.
- He remembers things I say I want to the point that I forget about it, so he always gives very thoughtful birthday and Christmas gifts.
- He can name every city that held the Olympics for the past 50+ years. I know because I quizzed him on them once we lost use of the radio driving to Quebec.
- He writes very thoughtful cards (and thank you notes!). He always buys me one serious card and one funny one.
- He calls me pet names like “Little Lady” and “Tiger Lily.” But he balances out the cuteness by sometimes also calling me “Frumpy” or “Crumby.”
- Family is the most important thing to him. That’s just nice.
- He is an old soul, which apparently is a nicer way of saying “old man trapped in a young person’s body.” He was visibly upset when he found out PanAm was cancelled, because it “reminded him of the life he should have had.” Whatever that means.
- He tells me that I’m going to be a good mother someday, even though there are many many times that I’m not so sure.
- He let me use one of his socks for my sock bun. And by “let,” I mean he didn’t know I was taking it and was really mad when he found out I cut the toe off a perfectly good sock that still had a match.
- He makes award-winning chili. Which I wouldn’t know, because I haven’t actually eaten it.
- When I get really stressed out, he writes “calm down” on all of my to do lists.
- He has gotten me semi-interested in and actually able to converse about a sport. My father almost died from shock when I was able to name the Bruins players that were injured this season.
- He makes cookies and cupcakes and other treats for me to bring to work. Once I volunteered him for a charity bake sale and I left the cookies he made at our apartment. He drove all the way to my work to (angrily) bring them to me.
- He is a very snazzy dancer. I am terrible, but because of him we were able to fool the people attending our wedding that we were sort of okay.
- He really values his health and motivated himself a few years ago to lose the 40 pounds of beer/late night eating/college weight on his own. Although now I hate him a little bit because sometimes I think his waist looks better than mine.
- He tells me I’m pretty every day. Even when I look totally gross.
- In general, he puts up with me blogging about him, posting everything he says on Facebook, and taking pictures of everything we do. And he very seldom complains. And I love him for it.
us, circa college 2007
us, circa wedding day 2011
~L
Alright, so I finally got my act together to do a Boston Bloggers recap. Everyone and their mother that attended this first ever conference this past Saturday has already done theirs, and I already feel like I’m way behind. But this was too good an experience not to cover. So let’s start from the beginning, shall we?
You may have seen a few posts ago when I overanalyzed what I was going to wear to said conference. Lots of people weighed in on Facebook, but what was really exciting to me was that I got like 12 comments on the actual post, mainly because all of us that were attending were all reading up on who else was going to be there as well. I get lots of feedback from people when I see them in person or via the ‘Book, but I get very few actual comments on my blog posts themselves. And to a blogger, those comments are liquid gold. I got so many nice messages from people that I hadn’t even met yet, so I went into Saturday feeling really excited to put faces to the comments and tiny profile pictures.
Of course since I’m hardly a together person, by the time I woke up on Saturday I still had not selected a winning outfit. I thought about just wearing what outfit most people liked the best (which it seemed were outfits 9 and 12 according to the comments), but like blogging, I had to choose what I was going to wear (or write) to represent myself, and I kinda just had to act on what I was feeling that morning. I decided on the neon yellow polka dotted sweater with the pink skinny belt, because it just made me feel bright and happy and that was something I wanted people to know about me from the second that I walked in. Once again, my very very VERY nice husband also arose early (7:30 am!) to take my photo before I headed out. Please ignore the flats, I had my heels in my big girl purse. Also, on a scale of one to ten, how much do I look like I’m ready for the first day of school?!
present!
I arrived at the Google offices BEFORE 9:00 am, which is when breakfast/registration started, which just goes to show you that when you’re actually excited to wake up for something, it’s really not a big deal to rise so freaking early. I headed right to the table, and was excited to get my name badge, the attendee list and there was even a COAT CHECK. Granted, I had packed my hot pink Kate Spade Stevie (thank you, Uncle Peter!) with the intention of being a bag lady and having to carry my crap around all day, so this was a very welcome surprise. When I walked in, I was shocked to find that a few people knew who I was by the outfit I was wearing. And everyone was really polite about it and said they liked it instead and didn’t question my decision.
I decided ahead of time to bring a notebook and my little Canon Powershot instead of my Rebel T3i. I just didn’t want to have to lug around more stuff than I already had to. A bunch of people took notes on their iPads or laptops and shot what were probably amazing photos with their SLR’s, which made me regret my decision a little bit. However, my laptop is four and a half years old, so it’s definitely from the days before Apple made things that were svelte enough to fit in manila envelopes. But oh, the iPad. How I covet thee, if I didn’t already before.
see? neon is in
Amy and Alana did an amazing job organizing this event. So amazing that I didn’t even realize until I talked to Amy at the after party that this was the first time they had ever done an event like this. That’s them on the right at the “opening ceremonies” of Blog Better Boston.
heels & nametags: a winning combo
They had one of those things there to take your picture in front of, which I thoroughly enjoyed because it made me feel like I was at an Us Weekly party. Which let’s face it, is how I aspire to feel in life all the time.
if only we could stare at our phones all the time & not be perceived as bitches
So they had all these great panels and workshops and an airtight schedule that allowed for an appropriate amount of breaks, mingling and free food nabbing from Dunkins & Au Bon Pain. One of the things that they really encouraged us to do was to Tweet all day long, which as you can see on the picture on the right, people did furiously. I have barely used Twitter in the past unless I wanted to find out what Kim Kardashian ate for lunch that day, so this was kind of a foreign concept to me. Also foreign? Staring at your phone/laptop/iPad while people are standing in front of you, speaking for your benefit. That’s kind of the cool thing about this group- no one was offended not to be holding your full intention. Because it was a room of bloggers, everyone understood (and was probably flattered) that you were expressing to the world (i.e., your followers) what they were saying. Still, it kind of goes against everything you learn in school, from your parents and general good manners so it was a little weird for me to get used to.
um wait, who is that on the left?
That is, until they featured one of my Tweets on the big screen and I was totally okay with it, because again, anything that makes me feel slightly famous is okay by me. Luckily, many of the other bloggers I met were much nicer than me and I got to partake in one of my favorite past times: Collecting people’s very cool business cards. As I said in my last post, I had worked very hard on my own cards, and I’m really excited with how they came out. And I still have about 70 of them, so message me your address and I’ll send you a stack that you can wallpaper your home with, or else my friends and family are getting these as Christmas cards this year.
please don’t steal my identity, unless you want to inherit a wicked banana republic credit card bill
i’ll take some of those natural, voluminous curls, please
This is Amy, one of the co-organizers from Stylish Year. She was super nice and has gorgeous mermaid-esque hair and she introduced me to fancy technological things like Tweet Deck.
The after party at Think Tank was a blast, particularly because by now we had known each other for a whole day and Katy Rose gave us extra drink tickets. It went on even longer than planned, and I was a little bummed to leave but I had made some very special plans with my former roommate of 77 Hancock at our favorite Cambridge eatery:
lindsay & liz, chips & salsa: reunited
We drank margaritas and shoved our faces with Mexican amazingness, which was kind of the cherry on top of a perfect day.
I’m sad that it’s over now. It was kind of like going to camp and not wanting to part with all the new friends you made that summer. At least that is what I imagine happens because everything I know about summer camp is from The Parent Trap (the Lindsay Lohan version, clearly).
While I did not discover a long lost twin, I met a lot of other nice people who I immediately went home and stalked online. They are now all being followed (ON TWITTER, calm down) and have been added to my already extensive Google Reader. Carley, Sara, Germana, Jamie, Meaghan, Erin, and even Emily from middle school were all awesome and I’m excited to read more from them.
I took all these photos on Instagram, which I am obsessed with because it makes it look like I am artsy and totally lets people know that I’m cool enough to have an iPhone. Kidding, but I am obsessed. If you are an Instagram user too, follow me at linzphoto731 because I have very few friends on there (sad face) and I want to see how cool and artsy you are too.
Until we meet again, bloggers!
~L
A few weeks ago, my coworkers and I were delighted to discover that we are getting bonuses this year. With the elusive check scheduled to arrive any day now, my brain has been working double time to figure out what items I am going to treat myself with for working all year.
I know what you’re thinking. “Lindsay, isn’t it a huge waste to use your money on a bunch of little things that could potentially be out of style in six months to a year?”
Probably. But you know what? I don’t care.
And I’m not going to blow the entire thing in one fell swoop of the mall, Supermarket Sweep-style. I am definitely going to save the majority of it, which I was miraculously able to do last year and it paid for our trip to Canada for our anniversary. After all, we do need to someday live in a place with more than 690 square feet, or else I’m going to run out of places to put all the crap that I buy.
I may have mentioned before that I have a very strict allowance as of late. And by allowance, I mean I am forbidden to buy anything ever unless it is an absolute necessity, i.e. food or toilet paper.
I totally see where my husband is coming from giving me such constraints. I have a closet that is exploding with clothes- fun, pretty clothes that I almost never wear because my daily wardrobe requirement is black, black, some more black, and in case you didn’t have enough already, just a little bit more black. My “side” has somehow started to spread over into his side, and that’s not including all the spring/summer clothes that are neatly Space Bagged on the top shelf right now. But like an addict, there are just temptations EVERYWHERE. First of all, I work in a mall. So not only do I see many cute things on a regular basis, but I also walk by certain things everyday, so I see when they finally get marked down, which feels like winning the lottery to me. Also, ever since I got more involved in blogging, I have discovered blogs of many fashionable ladies that feature outfits that I think I should be wearing.
Aside from the additional fun things I want, I need some essentials stat. But since I have somehow started using expensive products such as shampoo, makeup, etc., when I run out of something, it’s hard to convince said husband that my bronzer that is now crumbling at the bottom of my makeup bag needs to be replaced, and it just so happens right now that I have a zillion things I need to restock.
My brain is spinning from all the things I’m coveting right now. So better to put it out there than keep it swirling around in my brain. Without further adieu, I give you:
My List of Stuff I Want to Buy But My Husband Won’t Let Me So I’m Waiting For My Bonus Wish List.
Essential Elegance Skirt $69.99 Mod Cloth
I’ve seen this skirt on multiple posts from Jessica at What I Wore and I think it is just darling. Like I said, I wear lots of black and I’m always looking for different pieces to break up the monotony of an A-line black skirt (which I currently have approximately five of). Also I love the vintage feel and the high waist. And on those days when you just don’t feel like getting dressed for work, how much more fun is it when you have a skirt to twirl in?
Xhilaration Challis Shorts $16.99 Target
Okay, I also only know of the existence of these shorts because of Jessica (what can I say? The girl just knows how to put it all together) but I’m obsessed with these for two reasons: 1. Vintage-looking. 2. Cheapness. Seriously, this is such a good deal for a cute piece like this! I’m already picturing wearing this over my sailor-style swimsuit with a scarf tied around my head. And as soon as I go on Pinterest, I will actually figure out how to do that.
Colour Surge Eye Shadow Duo in Buttered Bronze $19.50 Clinique
I guess you know you have a problem when the eyeshadow costs more than the clothes you want. But seriously, that bronze color is the best shadow I have ever used for contouring my eyes and I only discovered up because of those damn free gifts with purchase that I keep falling for. It was in a trio of a shadow for your whole eyelid, this color for the accent and then a dark brown with a teeny brush for lining. It was like, the most perfect shade and I used it every day. Then, one sad day, I opened my beloved compact and Buttered Bronze was completely shattered into a crumbly mess, staining all the belongings of my bag (luckily, I have about 30 more where that came from- thanks, Clinique). But the other two colors? TOTALLY FINE. I have tried every cheap bronze color in my Forever 21 eye shadow palate, and none of them are as perfect a shade as this. We will meet again, Buttered Bronze.
Picture This Camera Ring in Pewter $9.00 Threadsence
I just have to have this. There’s no way around it. Thanks to Jessica at My Style Vita for posting this for $10 Tuesdays. Good thing it’s temporarily sold out, or I would have nabbed this baby a month ago.
City Stretch Peplum Sleeveless Top $29.95 New York & Company
I think it’s safe to say after the Academy Awards that we all need a little peplum in our lives. This is going to be the next big thing, and apparently it’s everywhere all of a sudden, from jackets to dresses. Me? I just want a simple top like this because I’m always weary of things that are all of a sudden in style, which is why I still only own one pair of skinny jeans. However, after my recent snafu with a return at NY&Co, I don’t know that I will ever be allowed to buy anything there again. And I have so many coupons…
Polka Dot Tights $20.00 Express
Okay I know that Steve will never understand this, but this is why I HAVE TO BUY THINGS WHEN I SEE THEM. I have been coveting these polka dot tights ever since I saw Rachel from Pink Peonies wearing them with a fabulous hot pink skirt. Since she said they were from Express, I went over one day on my break to check them out. $20 seems like a bit steep for tights (because it seems like no matter how careful you are, they inevitably could rip) but I thought they were so fun, I promised myself I would get my hands on a pair when some extra funds came rolling in. While working on this post I went to the Express website and THEY’RE NOT EVEN ON THERE! Hopefully they’re still available in the store, or else I will cry. I mean, how often to polka dotted tights come around?!
Weightless Shine Conditioner $25.00 Sebastian
I know, I know. Conditioner is a necessity. But twenty something dollar conditioner is not a necessity. Of course you’re thinking, “Lindsay, why not just buy less expensive conditioner?!” Because that would be the sane thing to do. I have used Sebastian shampoo and conditioner for some time now, and it just works the best for me. And once you find something you like, you can’t go back to using drugstore stuff. You just can’t. Yes, my hair is now spoiled. Luckily, having a friend that is a hairdresser, I have been able to substitute miscellaneous samples that I have acquired over the years while I wait to buy the good stuff. Otherwise, it would be a sock bun kind of day, everyday.
Chambray Button Up $17.80 Forever 21
So I keep seeing Chambray shirts everywhere in every fashion blog I read, but everyone seems to be buying theirs from J. Crew. Thanks, but if I’m going to be spending $78 on a shirt, it sure as hell isn’t going to be made out of denim. Again, this is one of those things that I am perfectly content picking up for as little money as possible, as I have no idea how long this is going to be on trend for. I want to pair one with a brightly colored maxi skirt because I keep walking by it on a mannequin at Madewell and it makes me happy.
Patent Toe Ballet Flats $20.80 Forever 21
Isn’t it weird how certain things are all of a sudden in style and you’re like, “where did that come from why don’t I have it I need it now ahhhhh!?!” Just me? Okay, well cap toe shoes seem to be one of those things this year. I’ve been seeing all kinds, from flats to heels and even though they’re “in,” I think a neutral pair seem pretty classic, like you could wear them for years (that is, if the cheap ass ones I end up buying don’t fall apart). Payless also has a pair that was made by Dexter, so those could be infinitely more comfortable. Of course, if money was no object, I would clearly be lusting for this Kate Spade pair. I don’t think my entire shoe collection combined even reaches $225.
Vintage Inspired Swimsuit 50’s Style Pin Up White Bathing Suit $75.00 Unique Vintage
I don’t really want to talk about how many vintage bathing suits I have (sorry, vintage style, not actual old bathing suits. Ew). But I have been searching for a white one piece for YEARS, ever since I saw a picture of Jessica Simpson in a Michael Kors similar style one a long, long time ago. I always wanted a white one because it reminds me of old school like Marilyn Monroe style beach glamour. Then when I opened up my February issue of Elle, I was delighted to see my girl Lea Michele in my very dream bathing suit! Too bad it was $350. This one from Unique Vintage seems similar enough for a fraction of the price. Then I promise, no more bathing suits. This year.
Flocked Trout Stream Pillow $19.99 Target
I want to be one of those people that can mix patterns of things and have it look amazing. However, if you only have one pattern on your couch at the moment, you’re not really getting there. I have this great blanket with all these different color pale greens, periwinkles, light blues, and even tiny hints of orange that somehow blend perfectly together (it even has traces of brown, which is the color of my couch). Now I just need to find other patterned throw pillows in the same color family to add into the mix. Other than taking the blanket with me from store to store, I don’t know where to find inexpensive pillows that go. If I was crafty I suppose I would just buy fabric and make them. Luckily for my fingers, this pillow from Target totally goes, and compliments the pale green ones I have already. Now… where to find non-hideous orange pillows…
I’m sure from the time I wrote this until the time you read it, I will have come up with 27 more things that I want. After this little spree, it’s penny pincher time, so I’m going to savor the moment while I can.
~L
So this past Tuesday was Valentine’s Day, otherwise known as the international day of love. Before I met my husband, I was single pretty much every February 14th (and most other days) and quite bitter. I know not every single person is bitter that day, but I was. Mainly because they used to sell carnations in high school that you could have delivered to homeroom or something and I would watch some girls prance around with seven of them while I got zilch.
Although I’ve technically had a “Valentine” for the past 6 V-Day’s, Steve and I have never made a big deal about the day. Steve says everyday for me is Valentine’s Day, because he cooks me dinner, buys me things, and generally showers me with adoring love and affection on a daily basis (his words, not mine). That’s mostly true, so I’ve never made a big deal about it, but just an acknowledgment of the day would be appreciated.
This year I got more than acknowledgment, as I was asked to attend a special February 14th Bruins game! Well not so much asked…
Steve: So there’s a Bruins game on the 14th.
Me: February 14th?! As in Valentine’s Day?!
Steve: Uh, yeah. Did you like, want me to do something with you that day? Because I can find someone else to go with.
Me: YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT ME ON VALENTINE’S DAY. I got married so I would never have to be alone on Valentine’s Day ever again, EVER.
Steve: Wow. Okay. So I guess we’re going.
I love a theme, so when I found out that my presence was so lovingly wanted at this game, I knew immediately what I was going to wear: the forbidden Pink Jersey, banned circa July 2009. I know, I know- any true sports fan, regardless of team, wouldn’t be caught dead next to a girl in a pink jersey, hat, t-shirt, etc. I have been lectured many times about how “real” fans don’t wear pink; they proudly support their teams actual colors, and clearly no team’s colors are a baby pastel pink.
But this being a day filled with hearts and love and sparkles I decided that I would stand firm and insist on rescuing The Jersey from the perils of my closet where it would surely never see the light of day again. And as I learned from Tom Hanks scratching himself in A League of Their Own, anything worth doing is worth doing right. I was going to go all out.
So you can imagine Steve’s horror when he step out of the shower and saw me in this:
the pink ladies would be much more accepting
His actual words: “Is that what your’e wearing? Do you know how many other season ticket holders sit around us?!”
My response: “IT’S VALENTINE’S DAY!!!!”
Not my best comeback, but accurate.
Dressing for these games is so hard. I love a good theme but I don’t want to be wearing enough garb that it looks like I think I’m actually on the team. For situations like this, I have to look to my #1 hockey girl fan, Mrs. Carrie Underwood Fischer.
I love her because she always has her hair and makeup done but dresses down just enough that she doesn’t look like a glamourpuss who took a wrong turn on her way to an awards show and ended up at a hockey rink by accident.
Then of course we had to do our mini ticket photo shoot. I especially wanted to get a good picture of the date:
timmm-maaaaaaaay
Steve was a little camera shy. He kept hiding behind his tickets. I can’t imagine why…
he knows we can still see him, right?
Finally, he relented and actually let me take a picture of us together. Although the embarrassment almost killed him.
don’t be fooled. behind that smile is an angry, angry man
As if The Jersey wasn’t enough, the Bruins totally ate it and we lost 3-0, which was essentially pouring salt on the wound.
sad v-day 🙁
To be fair, the Rangers are in first place and we are in second, and also their goalie is REALLY handsome, and Thomas has had that moustache for so long…
what? i always take my helmet off in slow motion
So I think that The Jersey is now officially retired. And by retired, I mean someone hid it and I can’t find it anymore. Also, I am now banned from attending Original 6 match ups.
Happy V-Day, lovers (hockey and otherwise).
I know that everyone is sitting on the edge of their seats to see a picture of our genetically altered tree in all its decorated glory, however I must digress for this entry because I absolutely have got to share about my recent run in with the law.
Before you jump to conclusions, know that I went to court for a hearing to dispute a ticket for not having my car registered FROM AUGUST. Although I would have loved to have had the chance to “plead the fifth” or “handle the truth,” it was not at all glitz or glamor as the 15 different versions of Law & Order would have you believe it to be.
Back on this fateful Friday night at the end of August, I got pulled over in Holliston on my way home from work. When the police officer asked me why I was pulled over I had no idea, as it was physically impossible for me to be speeding on Main Street, USA. He informed me that my registration was expired and that technically he should have my car towed because it’s illegal to drive an unregistered vehicle (I love how they tell you all the things they “could do” just to make girls like me start crying, like the time a police officer told me he “could” have me arrested for driving in MA with my NH license that was no longer valid because I didn’t live there anymore).
It was then that I realized that I wasn’t a moron, I did know that my registration was expired. It slowly started to come to me… I remembered Steve saying something about going to get my car registered, but he couldn’t for some reason… because something wasn’t done right… the inspection? Had my car not passed? Well yeah, that also happened but it was something else…
“You have an outstanding Fast Lane violation you haven’t paid yet,” said Officer Intimidation.
Ugh. Now I remembered. Steve had been begging me to look into that notice I had gotten for going through the toll without a Speedpass. Only I had a Speedpass, so I was convinced I was innocent and saw no reason to actually contact them. They would figure it out.
He was nice enough to “let me go” with my illegal car, but still issued me a $100 ticket, and then told me that I was too honest telling him the whole story about my husband begging me to pay the violation so he could register my car and that that was the only reason it wasn’t registered and I was so so SO sorry and I would go home and do it right away but it’s Friday and I don’t think I can do it online this late at night and I have to work all weekend so I have to drive my car but what if I get pulled over again? I was so confused- hadn’t I been taught my whole life by my parents, teachers and other generally decent human beings that it was always better to tell the truth than to tell a lie? Was he fining me for my registration being outdated or taking up too much of his time truthtelling?
Just to put me more into shock, he told me that although he was giving me a ticket, I should appeal it and appear in court and LIE and tell them I didn’t know it was expired and they would drop the fine. This really confused me because if the whole point of all of this is to get them to drop it, shouldn’t you just not give me a ticket right now and save all of us the extra time and paperwork?!
So cut to four months later, I’m due to appear in court for my hearing at 11:15. So naturally I start panicking at 9:00. My first dilemma was, what to wear? How does one dress for a traffic hearing? My goal was to look nice enough that they could tell I wasn’t a delinquent but not so nice that I looked like I had enough disposable income to afford a $100 ticket. But I was weary of overdressing and looking like I was trying too hard to look innocent. I settled on dark jeans, black ankle boots, and longish white tank and a cropped black jacket with pearl detailing on the edges.
I headed over to the Framingham District Courthouse an hour early. From what I’ve heard, these things take an insanely long time and it helps to be punctual. But of course it was POURING. Not just like raining, but like movie rain hose from the sky pouring. Luckily I had my Gap trench and new clear bubble umbrella to chicly shield me from the weather, however parking was another story.
When I pulled up to the lot, it appeared that not only was it full, there was a sign that said “Employes Only.” Weird, I thought. How could that many people work in this small building? And where is everyone else supposed to park? I continued on, circling the perimeter of the building. The street adjacent to the courthouse appeared to serve as additional parking, but the sign said there was a parking ban that only permitted people to park on the odd side of the street. I looked around. People were clearly parked on both sides of the street! I knew I couldn’t take my chances and inched into a space on the odd side. Parking on the incorrect side of the streets and ignoring the signs when it’s clearly marked is something that only happens to you once. Or in my case, twice.
After my minor parking dilemma, I tried to mentally prepare myself with my story for when I took the stand. At this point I was about a half an hour early and still feeling okay, until I realized that my two index fingers had NO nail polish on them all, while my other eight digits were polished with shiny red glitter. I forgot that were majorly chipped yesterday and I peeled them off with the intention to repaint them prior to my hearing. This did not look good. If having an unkempt manicure isn’t a sign of disorganization I don’t know what is. Good thing I always carry a small bottle of nail polish remover with me in my little purse emergency kit.
BUT IT WAS GLITTER! Red glitter. It took me a solid 15 minutes to get all of it off. Now I would only be 15 minutes early. Also I smelled like rubbing alcohol. What if the judge thought I was ingesting it in order to flush illegal narcotics out of my system to pass a drug test? I hear that’s what the kids are doing these days.
And what was I going to do with all the nail polish remover soaked tissues? I couldn’t leave them in my car. It would ruin my new car smell. I didn’t see any trash cans in sight and there was no way I was going to litter because it’s totally against my beliefs. Also there were tons of cops around, but that’s besides the point. I figured I would just have to put them in pocket and throw them away inside.
I hustled down the sidewalk to get into the building, getting splashed by giant waves of water with every car that passed by. Nice. I rushed into the building only to be confronted by a giant body scanner/metal detector thing. Were they serious? I plunked my oversized purse down on the conveyor belt and stepped through, setting off the detector immediately. I couldn’t believe it. In all the years since I became a bionic woman (i.e. had a titanium rod put in my back) I have never set off a metal detector, even though there have been a few times I wanted to for some strange reason. “It’s probably your shoes,” the security guard said. Fat chance, I wanted to tell him, as I buy pretty much all my shoes at Payless and they are clearly plastic.
So I had to stand there with my arms and legs spread as he waved that little wand around me, while his buddy over at the machine informed me he had to check my purse. Of course he has to check my purse. It was then I realized that in my state of frantic nail polish removal that I had torn through my bag, leaving it completely disheveled and unorganized. As he started poking around, I could clearly make out that my bag seemed to be exploding tampons everywhere. Not only were there feminine hygiene products in plain sight, but I seemed to be hoarding all of my electronic devices in my bag as well. “Just make sure you keep that camera inside your bag when you’re in there,” he warned. Right, because this was a day I really wanted to remember. Also, my laptop cord was hanging out, which I was pretty sure he was going to consider it a weapon and confiscate it. For some reason he let me go, and even offered to hold my sopping wet umbrella for me.
He told me to head up the stairs to registration for my paperwork. What was this, freshman orientation? They were the ones who told me to be there at a certain time. Weren’t they just expecting me? I raced up the cold metal staircase and found myself in a bustling courthouse like you see on TV dramas. The floors were marble, which only exaggerated how many people were rushing around there as you could hear every step they took. Every office had one of those wooden doors with the big glass windows on them.
After finding my way through registration, the woman told me to head up to the second floor. But I had already went up a flight of stairs to get here. Aren’t I on the second floor now? Whatever, I didn’t want to ask anyone, as nobody seemed particularly friendly.
Finally I made it to the second floor even though I was convinced I was really on the third floor. Maybe this is one of the ways they get inside your head and break you down so you confess. I took a seat in front of hearing room 4 and awaited my fate. But I couldn’t stop myself from staring at everybody who walked by, wondering what horrible things they have done to end up here.
It was then I realized I still had all those tissues in my pockets. I scanned the room for a trash can, trying to stand as close to it as possible in order to minimize people witnessing me tossing out multiple red stained tissues, which I had just realized probably didn’t do much to convince anyone of my innocence.
The sign on the door said “Quiet- Court In Session,” but the building was so echoey there was no way I would be able to hear my name called. Oh God, I realized, I have to pee. I always have to pee when I get nervous. But it was already 11:10. What if I missed my time and was automatically found guilty? I would just have to hold it.
A woman leaned to take a drink at the water fountain beside me. I looked over and she was wearing handcuffs. HANDCUFFS. She was in a total mom sweater and looked like someone that would bake cookies for your local PTA. Hardly seemed like a criminal, but was being escorted by a police officer nonetheless. She was still smiling though! This place was insane.
Across from me, an elderly gentleman was being spoken to by an attorney about whether he meant to intentionally steal something from someone. He looked like he could have been my grandfather. Oh dear God, please get me out of here, I begged in my head.
It was then I noticed that a bunch of other people seemed to have lawyers accompanying them into their hearings as their names were called. For traffic hearings? Was I supposed to get a lawyer? Or should I have been studying up these past four months with online law courses to learn how to defend myself a la Bringing Down the House?
I started to feel lightheaded. Probably from inhaling all that nail polish remover in the car, but I was beginning to debate booking it out of there and just paying the $100 fine.
Everyone that was there was on opposite sides of the wardrobe spectrum. There was not one person who was in the middle (except for me, of course). People were either decked out in sweatpants and Ocean State Job Lot athletic sweatshirts or they were in full suits. There was one guy in a navy suit with an aggressively green dress shirt that made him look like the Joker. Not a great way to prove you’re not a criminal, buddy.
Oh jeez, now a baby is crying. This had to be what hell feels like.
Finally, my name was called. I grabbed my stuff and bolted into the room, which looked oddly like an academic classroom in an old building. There was no bench, no judge, no jury- not at all like what I was expecting. Just me, a police office and a clerk sitting at a desk.
As the officer read my offense, I tried to remind myself in my head what my story was. Don’t say too much, I reminded myself. Don’t tell the truth, the whole truth so help you God. Just say, “I didn’t know.”
“So did you fix this online?” the officer asked after he finished reading.
“Yes,” I said. “I tried to do it that night but it was Friday so they wouldn’t let me do anything until Mon-“
“So it’s all set then.”
“Um yes. It was all set on Monday. And I ended up getting a new car like a week later so I had to reregister anyway.” Too much?!
“Well then,” he said. “Aren’t new cars nice?” Wait, was he mocking me? It almost sounded like he was implying I was a spoiled housewife who was just sitting around, waiting for her husband to buy her a new Bentley. I had to defend myself against his unfair judgements!
“Yeah but it wasn’t just like, a new car, I mean, I really needed it. It’s the first new car I’ve ever had. My old car was almost 11 years-“
“Okay you’re all set. You can go.”
“Oh. That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
And just like that, it was over. After days of preparing my alibi, selecting the most court-worthy ensemble, and having mini panic attacks for the past 3 hours, I was a free woman. I flew out of that courthouse, grabbed my umbrella, and got the hell out of there. And I vowed never to return.
So the moral of the story is, stay on top of your crap. Don’t end up a cautionary tale like me. And apparently, lying to a police officer is okay.
I’ve been married almost a year now, and while that seems like a substantial amount of time, there are some things that we do not share. Like toothbrushes. That totally freaks me out. I don’t care how long you’re married for, I just think that is gross. *Shudder* Wait, what was I talking about?
Oh right, sharing. So one of the biggest things we have not shared yet in our post nuptial life is the elusive Bruins/Canadiens game. For those of you who don’t know, that is the hockey equivalent to the Red Sox/Yankees rivalry. I’ve gone to a fair amount of Bruins games over the past 6 years that I have known Steve, but I kind of didn’t realize the importance of a game like this. This is my interpretation of how the exchange went in which he informed me I would be his official “date” to the event. Yes, event.
would you care to join me for an a very special evening?
S: I am taking you to the Bruins game on Thursday.
Me: Oh yay! Who are we playing? (Tip #1 for wannabe sports fans- speak about team as if you are an actual player.)
S: The Canadiens. (Cue dramatic music)
Me: Oh, okay. Well I’ve been to a Canadiens game be-“
S: (cuts me off) No you haven’t.
Me: What?
S: You have never been to a Canadiens game. You have been to two Toronto games. There is a big difference.
Me: Oh. (Clearly by this point I know there are like 6 teams from Canada, but I kind of thought we were just referring to all of them as “Canadians” with an A.) Well, that should be fun.
S: There are some rules.
Me: What?!
S: Rules. Things you can and cannot do at this game. You don’t understand how important this is.
As I sat there with my mouth open, because I myself have never even given so many restrictions for the 8 hours of Oscar coverage that I insist on watching in silence, I was given a very succinct list of the “rules.”
1. No cell phones out during a period (which is 20 MINUTES LONG)
2. No extended arm self photos of ourselves while the game is happening
3. Only allowed to take 3 pictures of the game per period
4. Must focus on the game at all times and no talking about ANYTHING else
And just like that, he was able to suck all the fun out of the privilege of going to game. Yes, privilege. I discovered that after 6 years, the only reason I was finally allowed to attend the Bruins/Canadiens was because he put a ring on it. In fact, these were his exact words when telling me why I should consider myself lucky to attend this game with him:
“You’re allowed to go to Canadiens games now because you’re actually my wife. Before, when you were just my fiance there was a chance it wouldn’t work out.”
So that’s what I knew that this would not be an ordinary “fun night out” for the two of us at this game. Still, I wanted to be the best hockey wife I could be, but while retaining my usual sense of style.
First things first, I had to pick out my outfit. As you can imagine, I’ve acquired quite a bit of Bruins clothing and accessories over the years, but I’m always careful not to pile on too much of it at once because I think that’s a surefire way to make it look like you’re not a real fan. An over-abundance of fan wear just seems like you’re compensating for something. Like maybe if I throw on one extra hat of accessory it’ll totally make up for not knowing the name of team’s head coach (which is Claude Julien by the way- BAM!).
I settled on my skinny jeans with my black fur lined lace up boots (because the weather was meeeh that day and I’m always cold in the Garden) with my official black and gold Bruins jersey over a few layers, all in coordinating colors of course. I say “official” jersey because I actually have 2. Unfortunately I am not allowed to wear the other one because it is pink, which would push me into the dreaded “pink hat” territory, a place where no real fan wants to be.
I only bought the pink jersey because it was on sale and because I can fit into the extra large girl size. After wearing it for the first year or so that I was going to games with Steve, he finally bought me a real jersey (well, real in it’s color scheme- still kids sized. What?! It’s cheaper). And now my pink jersey is banished forever to my closet, because he wouldn’t dare be caught within 50 feet of the Garden with a chick in one of these. Sigh. I thought it was cute.
Anyway, next I had to decide on accessories. I have a lot of Bruins jewelry for all different occasions (you know, some formal, some fancy. In case there is ever a “fancy” Bruins event I get to go to…?). Some of it is gold, some silver, so I have to pick and choose my combinations strategically. On this day though, I had already lent like half my jewelry to someone for their Halloween costume so it made my choice a bit easier. I settled on my larger sized gold “B” earrings (yes, I have more than one size of the SAME earrings) and then transferred my essential belongings into my Bruins clutch purse. Okay I know it’s starting to sound like I’m wearing a lot of Bruins things, but that handbag was a necessity. Do you know what a pain it is to carry a hobo sized purse around that place?!
earrings, jersey & clutch by b’s pro shop. full set of teeth, not included
Next: Makeup! I decided to do a gold eye shadow with a thick amount of black liner. Black and Gold- get it?! I know, it’s starting to get crazy. I swear I’m done. Only I’m not, because I also wore gold lip gloss but I don’t think that was so obvious.
bruins, sponsored by cover girl? i smell an endorsement deal waiting to happen…
Last but not least, I needed outerwear. I put on my Bruins black track jacket that Steve gave me for my birthday and my white Stanley Cup Champions hat. Okay, I didn’t really need the hat but when we were planning out all the Cup merchandise we were going to buy (yes there was an actual day we spent doing that) I made a huge deal about wanting a white women’s hat that said “Stanley Cup Champions” on it that wasn’t the official one that came out the day after they won (it was so masculine and huge and not cute), and I found one (for a mere $40) and I’ve never worn it.
Also, Steve does this thing where he takes pictures of each page of his season tickets before he rips them up. So there was mini ticket photo shoot:
yeah, work it
And then we finally got out the door! Unfortunately, we did not leave as early as Crazy wanted to and it was like half rainy out, so the traffic was terrible. Even though the game doesn’t start until 7:00, and usually then it’s still more like 7:15 or something, somebody likes to be in their seat with a Molson and chicken parm sandwich well before Rene takes the ice for the national anthem. I’ll give you a hint- it’s not me.
The antsy-ness reached it’s critical mass around Exit 17 on the pike, which is always the worst at that time of day. But he couldn’t handle that we were a mere few miles away with over an hour to spare. “I have to pee,” he said, annoyed. “This is why I have to get to games early so I can get my bodily functions situated.” It was 5:52. Also, I don’t want to know what that means.
Needless to say, we got up the escalators, through the refreshment line and in our seats just before Rene took to the ice. So we missed warmups, but luckily, we were there in time for the pre-game montage, which I enjoy watching as much as the actual game. After the lights came back on, I looked around the Garden and was shocked to see how few seats were filled.
crickets
Where was everyone?! Didn’t they know that we were playing our arch rivals, the hated Canadiens? Don’t these people have their own frantic husbands giving them lectures 3 days before and forcing them out the door as they are still applying their Bruins themed makeup? Don’t they realize that they pro shop will be open after the game so now really isn’t the time to stock up on B’s merchandise?!
If they didn’t know it, they eventually realized it and filtered into their seats within the first half of the period or so. But still. I’m a pink hat?! You people don’t even show up in time for the start of the game! Double standard?! I think so.
One of those people that eventually filed in was Steve’s season ticket seatmate Brian. Brian is a quiet fellow, and I’m 95% positive that for the first year they had these tickets, he and Steve didn’t utter one word to each other, and their seats touch. As someone who forms a bond with strangers that I meet once in a movie theater, I was appalled. Over time, they became “friends” in the sense they talk to each other during games and added each other on Facebook. Brian also usually brings a male relative to the games, and I think by now Steve has met more of his extended family than mine.
So I almost fell out of my hard yellow seat when Brian took his seat with… A GIRL. Yes, an actual female. At a Canadiens game! Oh, the irony. After lecturing me about the importance of choosing a buddy for these sort of games that is blood related or unable to separate without legal documentation, here was Brian, a fellow season ticket holder, with a girl that wasn’t his wife, fiance or girlfriend. SHE WAS JUST A FRIEND. I just about died.
Me: That’s weird. I don’t remember you telling me that Brian got married.
S: *Ignore.*
Me: And I don’t see a ring, so they’re definitely not engaged. That’s so odd. He doesn’t have a sister, right?
S: *Drink beer, consume sandwich.*
Me: So you’re telling me that guys sometimes take girls to Canadiens and other important games that they don’t have a life long connection to? That’s weird. He must not have read the rules or something. Make sure he gets a copy. Don’t you always carry a first edition of Who To Bring to a Bruins/Canadiens Game in your vest?
Okay so I didn’t technically say that. But I did point out that she wasn’t wearing a hint of Bruins memorabilia, just a gray turtleneck. Amateur.
Needless to say, this was an awesome game to attend. Spoiler alert: we ended up losing 2-1. But it almost didn’t matter, because this was the stuff that real hockey games are made of. I was at a game a few years ago and I saw someone shatter the glass, but until this Canadiens game, I had never seen so much actual fighting in person. You see, these two guys, Marchand (us) and Subban (them) had it out for each other for literally the entire game. They would fight, get shoved in the penalty box, wait out their time, then the second they entered the rink would just start killing each other again. And they did this no less than three times, so much so that they missed the rest of the games because they had more minutes off the ice than what was left in the period.
People were going crazy. However, amongst all the frenzy, there was the nicest family of four sitting behind us that was a very welcome change from the usual drunk college girls that spill beer in my hair. Like I said, we lost this game, so there were definitely some plays didn’t exhibit the B’s best Stanley Cup worthy skills. Usually, when they screw up, all we hear around us is drunken swearing. These people were like “oh, that’s okay, at least they tried.” I even snuck into the conversation between the teenage daughter and her mother when I eavesdropped them talking about Bruins nail polish. They even wanted to see all my iPhone pics of my B’s themed manicures. Well, whether or not they wanted to they saw them anyway.
how do you spell team spirit? for me it’s: o.p.i.
Anyway, this family was so nice it gave me home for the future. Hockey didn’t have to be all about violence and rivalries and spending $10 on a personal pan pizza. This was like a fun night out for these people, something they were all enjoying together, as a family.
Me: That’s going to be you and your family someday isn’t it? Or I guess, our family.
S: If you’re lucky it’ll be your family.
Me: Uh, it better be me, I’m at the Canadiens game.
At some point I was allowed to take my requisite photo of the two of us together. This is the only one from the entire game, which took a lot of restraint on my part.
steve is clearly happy about what is going on here
Since it was only a few days before Halloween, between periods the Bruins flashed a couple of photos of the Jumbotron of various players in costume visiting kids at Children’s. Steve leaned over and asked me if I had seen the pictures online of our team captain, Zdeno Chara (who happens to be 6’9) dressed as a pink bunny rabbit.
Me: Nope, I definitely missed that one.
Brian’s date: Oh here, let me show you. *whips out her phone*
Me: Wow, you just like, have that all ready to go on your phone?
BD: Well, I follow the Bruins on Facebook and Twitter, so it’s easy just to pull it up.
As I sat there with my mouth open, Steve whispered in my ear “now that’s the kind of girl you take home to your parents.”
And me? Well, this is the guy I took home to my parents:
no, not patrice. the guy on the left. made you look!
Disclaimer: This post was written around noon on Sunday, which will now be known as “The Day the Music Died.” For me, at least.
Knowing that this weekend Hurricane Irene was going to barrel in and knock everyone on the East Coast flat on their asses, I prepared myself for the entirely likely but highly inconveniencing thought that the power may go out, rendering my day off completely ruined, as there would be no means to watch 89% of DVR, a 2 week-old Netflix, or my ultimate favorite time waster- perusing blogs on the Internet.
However I have read my fair share of American Girl books over the years, and I know that girls for decades survived without power, and if they could do it, darn it, I could too!
After losing the power at 9:52 am, smack dab in the middle of my DVR’d Dance Moms (disappointing, I know, but at least I had already gotten through Jersey Shore) I readied myself with my own version of a hurricane survival kit: 4 practically unread magazines, 3 books, a new bottle of Essie ridgefiller basecoat and a vanilla cupcake Yankee Candle. Yes, it was still light out at 10:00 am, but I just like the smell.
By 10:30 I was bored. Like B-O-R-E-D bored. And I was super disappointed in myself for not being able to occupy my brain for a few hours without power. I forced myself to get up and make the bed, straighten up the coffee table and bring all the dishes to the dishwasher. Good thing the power was out or else I would really have had to learn how to turn that bad boy on.
What I really wanted to do was take a shower, but alas without a hairdryer I was less enthused. Who wants to sit around with wet hair for half the day there’s a monsoon outside? Then I thought, I’ll let my hair dry and just straighten it later. Duh, bad idea, as a hair straightener needs just as much power as a hair dryer to function. Ugh, this was harder than I though. I felt as though I let Kirsten and Laura Ingalls and other fictional pioneers down, but mostly- I really just let myself down.
So I decided to make a list of Lindsay’s Ways to Stay Scandalous During a Natural Disaster. Just because you’re suddenly stripped of something that impacts every moment of your life and you know no other way to live, it doesn’t mean you can’t still hang onto your last remaining shreds of your identity in a time of crisis (and yes, I know that almost no one has died and this really turned out to be nothing more than a strong rainstorm, but seriously, it’s 3:30 and I still don’t have power. We’re only 4.5 hours away from VMA’s preshow– it’s like someone is TRYING to kill me).
The List
1.Think of Hurricane Irene iPod Playlist. Download songs once Hurricane Irene has ended when Internet comes back. Later delete playlist, or save for next weather disaster.
Tracks include: “Come On Eileen” (which I’ve obviously had stuck in my head ALL DAY) by Dexie’s Midnight Runners, “The Hurricane” from the movie The Hurricane, “Set Fire to the Rain” (something I’d like to do right about now) by Adele, “It’s Raining Men” by The Weather Girls, “I’m Only Happy When It Rains” by Garbage, “Listen to the Rhythm of the Falling Rain” by someone old I can’t remember.*
*Apologies in advance for the accuracy of this list, but let’s all keep in mind it has been a Google free day.
2. Come up with a Hurricane Irene queue for Netflix. When Internet returns, add titles before removing them a day later to make room for every disc of Mad Men. Damn, that would have been a good thing to start today. Titles include: Me, Myself and Irene, Twister, The Hurricane (okay, I know that’s a repeat but again people, GOOGLE FREE), The Perfect Storm.
3. Paint toenails an ungodly shade of neon. Hurricane Irene may be marking the end of the summer, but I need at least 2 more weeks of a warm weather shade before I resort to deep plums and greiges. This is mainly for function though, not fashion (although I am obsessed with my neon yellow Essie that I’ve been told looks like a bad foot fungus), as I discovered when I used our bathroom with no windows that it practically glows in the dark. Take that, crazy Walmart battery people. I didn’t purchase a single battery and I’m going to be JUST FINE. I think.
4. Come up with new ways to wear hair in a bun. I’ve been working several different styles of loose chignons throughout the day. Thankfully I had already invested $3.49 in my Goody Spin Pins, which I’m convince should win a prize for engineering as I ever never seen anything like them. I ended up taking a shower but not washing my hair, so the Spin Pins are more of a necessity than ever. Bet you weren’t thinking of THAT when you were stocking up on water, were you?
5. Organize magazine clippings into a “Look Book” for when you have nothing to wear. I have literally never thrown out a magazine in my entire life (and my mother can attest to that) without going through and ripping out pictures and articles that I thought were interesting. I have a giant box of all of them that I always intended to do something with. I finally started organizing them into sections: Fashion (for the days when I think I have nothing to wear), Hair (inspiration for future ‘dos), Makeup (I may actually learn how to put on liquid liner correctly one of these days), Nails (I think I tore out at least 10 pages on how to give yourself an at home manicure), Skin (did you know there is a correct way to pop a pimple?), Pictures I like, Articles I like, Decor, Food and Exercise (smallest section), and Future (articles about how to feed children or train them to do something, I don’t know I’ll look at it someday). Did I actually put anything in book form today? No, not exactly, but I made very even piles of each category and now they’re still sitting in the same box, but organized into labeled page protectors.
6. Most important- write down any inspiring thoughts to post on blog later when power returns. Pat myself on the back for charging laptop when there was still time. Take that, Irene. You don’t scare me.
Just kidding. Please return my power soon. Please?!
~L
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