Conversations with Myself While Shopping

Me: Oh, here's a good store to check out...act natural, act natural, act natural...
Myself: Why are you saying that?
Me: I don't want them to think that the only reason I came in was to check out the clearance section.
Myself: But that was the only reason--
Me: Yeah, but they don't need to know that. I mean there's totally a stigma associated with clearance shoppers.
Myself: But you're a clearance shopper.
Me: Yeah but I don't want to be. Big difference.
Myself: ...
Me: There, we made it to the back!
Myself: Hooray.
Me: This is cute! Oh man, only $14.
Myself: Great. Try it on.
Me: Hmm...I don't know.
Myself: What now?
Me: I mean it's cute, and it's a great deal, but...
Myself: Oh boy.
Me: I'm just not sure it's my style.
Myself: What?
Me: I mean it's just not hardcore enough.
Myself: I'm sorry, I didn't know you and P!nk were friends.
Me: Oh, shut it.
Myself: No seriously, I didn't know you had a hardcore style.
Me: I do. At least in my head. And the way you think about yourself really does impact who you are.
Myself: And you want to be hardcore?
Me: I'm just trying to go after the whole intimidation factor, okay?
Myself: And this shirt doesn't do that for you?
Me: No, it's way too Barbie. I mean I'd have to get a tan and bleach my hair for this shirt to work. Even though it's cute.
Myself: Okay, so put it back, and let's move on.
Me: But it's only $14...
Myself: Just stop.
Me: Oh no, sales associate alert!
Myself: SAVE ME!
Me: I can't believe she called me "kiddo."
Myself: Well, you are in the clearance section.
Me: Not fair. I already told you that I don't want to be here.
Myself: And you have your hair in a messy bun.
Me: Messy buns aren't mature?
Myself: Well, they definitely aren't hardcore if that's what you're going after.
Me: Shoot. You're right. Okay, new store.
Myself: Thank God.
Me: Hmmm...
Myself: What? Why are we hesitating?
Me: It's just that it's Forever 21...I'm afraid to go in.
Myself: But you always shop there.
Me: No, I shopped there. Big difference. I haven't been shopping for like a year or two. What if I've outgrown it? What if I go in and all of the items are ugly to me and then I find myself wandering into Christopher Banks?
Myself: That's not going to happen.
Me: You can't be sure. I mean every woman makes the CJ Banks switch at some point in her life. Why can't mine happen right before I'm thirty?
Myself: Stop. Just stop. Go in there and see if you can find something you like. Anything.
Me: Okay, but if I'm miserable, I'm blaming it on you...OH I LOVE THIS STORE!!
Myself: Remind me again why it was wrong of the sales associate to call you "kiddo?"

15 Things I Learned at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

 The band.

So you know when someone young does something that's a little inspiring and hopeful and then they suddenly die a tragic, horrible death and then word of that thing that they did spreads like crazy until the whole world sees them as some iconic image of Love or Peace or Equality or whatever it was that they did that was so inspiring?

Well I realized that I was setting myself up to die one of those tragic, horrific deaths and become the poster child for Following Your Dreams or Quitting Your Job or who knows what.

So let's talk about something else, shall we? Because I have no intention of dying, thank you very much (although the idea of becoming an icon is tempting).

This past weekend, Tad and I drove to Ohio to see our friends, Zach and Stephanie. And for funsies, we visited the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Stephanie is a serious AC/DC fan (which we all find hilarious).
Tad loves Metallica (which I find hilarious).
Zach likes pretty much anything (although he has a huge weakness for ska).
And I...I'm one of those people who likes to think that I know a lot about old bands and artists, when in reality my knowledge doesn't go much past Wikipedia and the backs of my Ladies from the 80s Barbie Doll boxes.

So here are 15 things I learned at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame:

1. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame can be summarized by two performers and one movement: Elvis, The Beatles and punk rock
2. If you're in a punk rock band in the 70s or 80s, it's preferable that you hate God, hate the government, feel misunderstood, and choose a really cliche stage name. If you do all of these things, you will get a massive display at the R&R HoF and a video in which you're promoting anarchy and a limited use of the English language.
3. If I was in a punk rock band, my stage name would be Cat Call.
4. Jimi Hendrix had a lot of stage outfits.
5. Kurt Cobain really did die. I saw his birth certificate. Take that conspiracists! (Whether Courtney Love killed him or not is still up for debate).
6. Mick Jagger is a small, small man.
7. Apparently, rock and roll ceased to exist after the 1980s. At least that's what the Hall of Fame's lack of any bands from the 90s tells me (Nirvana aside).
8. Since when are Simon and Garfunkel considered Rock and Roll? And if they made it, where's Peter, Paul and Mary?
9. Lady Gaga's meat dress really was made out of meat.
10. It's cool to play a right handed guitar backwards when you're left handed. Wished I would have known this. I wouldn't have been so embarrassed while playing my right-handed Yamaha.
11. It's a good thing I had a hair appointment the week BEFORE visiting the R&R HoF. Because if it was scheduled after, I'm pretty sure I'd come out of there with a Debbie Harry hairstyle.
12. Faith Hill does not belong in the Women Who Rock exhibit. (What's she doing there?!)
13. I saw enough sequined tops and outfits that from now on when people give me a hard time about mine, I'll just say "All the rock stars are doing it." (You think I'm joking about having sequined clothing? Think again.)
14. If you die young, you have a better chance of getting a really good display in the R&R HoF.
15. The items from female artists are 99% of the time way more awesome and well-kept than the items of male artists. So, if you're thinking of making a trip to the R&R HoF, go now and catch the Women Who Rock exhibit while you can.

And now it's time to play Rock Band until my arms fall off.

how to attract vampires

This is probably the lamest thing I've ever done. Or at least the lamest thing I've ever admitted to.

I'm really trying here, but I just can't seem to come up with anything I've done that's as lame as this. Not even buckling my belt on the side. (Yes, I did this. Because I heard that rock stars did it to prevent the buckle from scratching their guitar. And, well, I wanted people to think I was a rock star. The sad part was I don't even play guitar that much. And when I do, I sit. So imagine just how lame that side belt buckle thing was.)

Well this is definitely lamer.

Do you see that jacket up there in that photo? The one Bella is wearing? Well, here it is again:


That's right folks. I have the official Bella jacket. Now before you make too much fun of me, you will note that I'm not alone. My friend Bekah has it too. So that makes it ok.

And yes, I'd jump off a cliff if my friends jumped off a cliff.

(Here is our emo pose ... life is better when you throw in an emo pose)

I will say, though, that the jacket has this odd magic to it. Because when I was in the dressing room, trying it on, I felt an icy breath against my neck and I turned and for a split-second saw a curious-haired boy dissolve into the shadows.

Ok, that didn't happen, but it IS true that the first words out of my mouth after zipping the jacket up were,

"OK EDWARD, I'M READY FOR YOU TO COME GET ME!"

Bekah can vouch for that one. She was there.

And I believe she also admitted to uttering a similar plea upon zipping up the jacket.

Except she looked at her husband when she said it.

And his name isn't Edward. It's Brad.

(Here we are, waiting for Edward to come get us. Apparently, I thought that Edward could fly.
Note the forest in the background)

I must admit, though, that if this coat was just sitting on a rack and had no connection to TWILIGHT, I'd walk right by.

To see our coat in action:

a few of my favorite things

Things I'm loving right now:

Battlestar Galactica -


Killer Bunnies -
Striped sweaters -

Amy's Kitchen -


Brown boots -

Non Tiq -

My Pocketbook

Colleen over at Designing dna tagged me in this fun little game where we show who we are ... through our possessions.

So, with no further adieu, I present the contents of my purse:

You are all so very lucky that I happen to be carrying the purse with the LEAST AMOUNT OF JUNK INSIDE. And while I could bore everyone with an endless photo stream of all the loose receipts and business cards and papers that float around in my OTHER purses, I figured the few odd items in my current bag would create enough amusement.

Even if they require some explanations.


A. Wilton Mint Crunch Sprinkles (because I took them to a friend's house to make mint brownies which were amazing and haven't thought to put them away)
B. An envelope that includes my entire identity (because we just got a new insurance plan at work and I needed to fill a bunch of stuff out)
C. Checkbook (because sometimes I need to write checks)
D. Bare Minerals Lip Gloss in Rose (because I got it for free when I bought some of my wedding make up from Ulta and I always think I'll wear it even though I never do. Ever)
E. Cell phone (an Env2 or however it's spelled)
F. Dunkin' Donuts (because I run on Dunkin')
G. A Turkish coin purse (because it makes me feel cultured when I use it)
H. A wallet (because I need something else to hold all the cards I don't use ever)
I. A scissors (can't remember how that got there...but I was quite happy to discover its existence after thinking it had vanished for eternity)
J. A cigarette case from Forever 21 (because I just couldn't find anything else as awesome looking to hold my camera)

Tagging:
All the ladies (or men) who read this blog every now and then and have blogs, Flickr accounts, or something similar of their own AND who also carry purses.

I'm talking about you, Meghan! And you, Katie! And you, Sara!
And the rest of you who read this blog under the cover nightfall ... it's time to show yourself!

A Show of Hands

Anybody else hang their wrinkly clothes up in the bathroom right before they shower so that the steam effect will de-wrinkle them? Any takes? Anybody?

An Epic Act of Laziness

As Tad gathers in his arms the pile of Amanda's laundry that has been sitting in the living room chair for a week:

Amanda: Oh wait.
Tad: Wait what?
Amanda: That stuff is clean. Let me find a bin or something to put it in.
Tad: Ooookkkkk?
Amanda: So it doesn't get mixed with the . . . or . . . I suppose I could just fold it and put it away.

Male Fashion, 1995-2005

On this day of costumes and creepers, let's take a look at some guy style that used to separate the men from the boys:

Adidas Sandals

What could be more comfortable and stylish than Adidas sandals worn with socks? NOTHING! That's why boys pimped this style well into the 00's.

Compound Cargo Pants

No more suffering through the sweltering day, boys. These cargo pants not only have all the pockets you could ever want, they also have hidden zippers that convert them to shorts! Unzip partially or completely, depending on your desired body temperature! Envious bystanders will stand in awe while you casually roll the detached portions and stuff them in one of your pockets! This style was so hip, it followed me through high school.

Hemp Necklaces

Calling all manly men who are too young to get their parents' permission to get their ears pierced--hemp necklaces are the answer to your problem! Want to feel rebellious without any pain? Want to appear tribal without leaving your backyard? Want to make girls wonder whether you're a surfer or a preppy meathead? Here's your chance! (I still see this style on occassion)

The Bowl Cut

Raise your hand if you idolize Moe from the Three Stooges! This style went strong through the 90's. Its fashion-forward appeal was so tempting, that eventually we saw it on grown women.

Frosted Hair

Even the stars jumped on this one. Getting your hair frosted meant compliments and congratulations from guys and girls alike. For the first time young guys looked forward to their hair appointments, and instead of settling for Great Clips, they visited salons and specialists. Curly, straight, long, short, nothing escaped the frosting. And can we ever forget the proud and the few who would frost their bangs and then stick them straight up?

Celebrating Winter and Slipper Boots

These are my blips. They are one of my most favored possessions. Imagine my joy when the thermometer hit the 40's this past week and our apartment heater still had not been turned on.

Pure joy.

The Psalm of Winter
The cold is my friend. I shall not want.
It makes me lie under layers of blankets. It leads me to the kitchen for coffee and hot coco. It restores my damaged hair.
Yea, though I struggle through the hottest parts of the year, I shall fear no sunburn. For the cold will soon be with me.
Its layered sweaters and slipper boots (blips), they comfort me. It covers my neck with scarves, my lungs overflow.
Surely cute outfits and un-sweaty palms will follow me all the days of winter.
And I will dwell in the flurries of its snowfall forever.

(These are my other pair of blips . . . Tad is making it a tradition to get me a new pair every winter. These are my Christmas 07 blips. The other aforeshown pair is from Christmas 08)

Desperate Housewife - Part 2 (of infinite)

Confession 2:

I am up to my ears in laundry--I am literally wading through it as we speak. My laundry collection is so vast I could clothe a small country of women sizes 14 to 4. And . . . I will continue to put it off.

When 8pm rolls around and I've finally gotten to that point of the day where I can do whatever the heck I choose, the last thing on my list is "Begin working on the five hundred loads of laundry you have strewn across your bedroom floor". . .

. . . mostly because:

- I do not like journeying to the basement of the apartment complex in the night (it's a really long walk)
- I do not like carrying/dragging a million pounds of laundry with me
- I do not like having to return to said dungeon multiple times in one night
- I do not like folding laundry
- The laundry will just end up right back where it started because I do not have a dresser (admittedly, though, it'll be clean)

It took an act of Tad to sort through it all and get me to the point where I started thinking about actually doing laundry. But now I realize I have no fewer than 7 loads ahead of me.

That's what? . . . a million and one pieces of clothing that I possess in sizes 4 to 14? My eco footprint is sounding more like an eco grand canyon.

And yet I have nothing to wear.

To which Tad would reply: You have a million things to wear.

To which I would reply: Yeah, but nothing sounds good.

Or, depending on how much time elapses before I begin laundry season: Yeah, but nothings clean.




I am ashamed of this.

Staying Above the Yellow Line

Here is an unflattering photo of me in a shirt I haven't worn in public since circa 2007. This is because I became too skinny for the shirt. Now, as the picture clearly shows, the shirt has shrunk.

Or, I have grown.

In a conversation with my sister, we joked that I was the perfect candidate for a commercial:

"After getting married, I just lost motivation. I gained weight and got to the point where no matter what I did, I wasn't capable of summoning the strength to work it off."

The REAL joke, however, was that I've only been married 3.5 months. 3.5 months and I'm already a walking, talking infomercial. Apparently, I fall off the wagon hard and fast.

But there's good news! I once again have a reason to loose weight. But it's top secret.

(More info coming later . . .)

A Country-Wide Sigh of Relief

I proudly declare that I never jumped on this bandwagon.

Don't I feel salty...

Do you see it?


How about there?


OR THERE?

I have a sweat issue. Thankfully, today was cool, dry-pitt weather. Unthankfully, I forgot that the last time I wore this pink shirt, it had been in the 90's and I was stuck in a stuffy conference room for hours on end.

Unthankfully, I forgot about the subsequent salt ring on my shirt.

Unthankfully, I saw the ring while in the bathroom at work, AFTER I had completed a meeting with a client and AFTER I had put more than half the day behind me.

How many times had I raised my arms in public that day? How often had I placed my hands on my hips? How frequently had I reached for something in front of someone else? HOW OFTEN HAD I MORTIFIED EVERYONE WITHIN TWENTY FEET OF MY SALT RINGS??

Color Critics

One of the best part about weddings is seeing all of the bride's 'likes' come to life--and then gossiping about it afterword.

• I KNEW she'd have a traditional wedding, Canon in D and all!
• I surely didn't expect bridesmaids to wear halters . . . I was thinking more of a full-length strapless.
• Can you believe she didn't have a veil?!
• I always thought her dress would be more frilly.
• Sweet Home Alabama at the reception? That was totally not her.
  

Such musings can also take place before the wedding, as friends and guests predict or comment upon what they expect to experience and what they already know to be true.
Such a conversation between friends who are headed out to a wedding is going on now. Let's listen in . . .

Amanda: Her colors are pink and purple. I'm just not seeing it.
Ashlee: Well Andrew's wearing yellow, so I expect that to be there too.
Amanda: Pink and purple and yellow?
Ashlee: That's what Andrew said.
Amanda: I suppose that will make it all come together. I was wondering about just the pink and purple because they were so rich.
Ashlee: Where'd you see them?
Amanda: On the invitations. It was like a magenta-like pink and a deep, royal purple.
Ashlee: Well the yellow is light.
Amanda: I just don't see those colors working well together.
Ashlee: I don't know...
Amanda: I mean, pink and purple? I could see having pink or purple. But both? And they seem to be really rich . . . really rich like this pink color here on my dress. *points to dress*
Ashlee: Ooohhh.
Amanda: And this purple here on my dress. *points to dress*
Ashlee: Ooohhh.
Amanda: Just don't see those colors working. Oh, wait, there's light yellow on my dress too!
Ashlee: OOOHHH.
Amanda: Well, THAT'S embarassing.

Word to the wedding-gossip-wise: Never wear the exact color combination that you're about to critique.

Bathroom Conundrum

What do you do when you're at work and you're going to the bathroom and you realize that your underwear are on inside out but you've already been in there long enough to cause people to suspect that you're doing more than just a polite bathroom break and are going to come out of there with the fan on full blast and your finger prints all over a half-empty can of Glade Lavender Meadows?

You leave them be. Leave the underpants be.

I Got Drafted.

Before Tad and I were married, I said that I would join the armed forces on two conditions.

1) That I see some action. None of this getting stationed in the UK for a year, staring at dots on a monitor while my friends are saving civilians and pushing back the insurgence.

2) That I get to wear whatever I want. Or at least get to take my uniforms to a tailor.

Because the second would never happen and the first would be very hard to achieve as a woman, the military has lost a recruit. . .

. . . while the state of Indiana's judicial system obtained one.

I received a sort of preliminary summons yesterday for jury duty.

I'll get called. I've gotten called before. Consequently, I helped save a nice, old man from having to pay a crazy nutcase of a woman hundreds of dollars. See? I saved a civilian while holding off the insurgence.

And I got to wear whatever I wanted.

The 30 (and sometimes 90) Day Window

Is it bad when you're in your closet, searching for something completely unrelated, and then you open a box, wondering what's inside and it turns out to be a pair of shoes you do and don't remember buying? Shoes that appear to have never been worn? Shoes of which your faintest recollection is one maybe two years old?

Is that bad? Cuz it feels kind of bad. It makes me realize I had a problem. Glad those days are over.

Glad I got better about returning things.

Blah the Way, I tried to say...

Today has been one of those days. You know, the type of day in which the only thing that pulls you out of bed in the morning is the thought of wearing a green sweater.


The type of day that is so blah that you can't even hold the camera steady enough to capture a cute moment in said sweater...even with James Dean's help.

The type of day where you find yourself embarrassingly grateful that By the Way by the Red Hot Chili Peppers came on the radio.



Ugh, they're even worse live than I expected. Perhaps knowing that will bring my day up a few notches?