Monday, December 5, 2011

A Few Things

1. Going away for the night should not carry the expectation of returning "rested". That's just never going to happen, and that's okay. Sometimes a break is just a break. It's not a catch-all for every little thing that my regular life doesn't allow for. I won't look fashionable and finish all the shopping and visit one of those new-fangled blow-out salons and catch a show and get ten solid hours of sleep all in the span of 24 hours. But I will climb out of my routine and I'll shake a little stress off my shoulders. Works for me.

2. There is a Salvation Army Thrift Store in downtown Chicago that sells 1980's, pastel abstract oil paintings for $130 and wraps purchased glass-wares in (unused) Depends, disposable diapers, and maxi pads. In the words of the clerk, "You gotta do what ya gotta do when you don't have no paper." Oh Lordy, I loved it. I was gleeful. There are few things I love more than a strong hit of Ridiculous. Still, I felt sorry for the man taking home a bud vase wrapped in extra-absorbent feminine hygiene. How exactly would he explain that? I was so excited to see what my Corelleware platter would be wrapped in. I was banking on the Depend. Or a group effort of some kind. Imagine my disappointment when a new clerk took over, reached down and ripped off a big sheet of paper. Robbed.

3. $0.50 blackberries are surprisingly portable. I find myself intermittently nervous when I think about the end of the fiddy cent sale.

4. My wimpy hair doesn't hold up to rain. Or a gentle breeze. Or a gnat yawn.

5. My purse from this post is from Gap, circa 2007. I fell in love with it the first time I met it, but it cost $40. Maybe more. I walked away. Months later, I found it for $17 on clearance. I have pulled it out every single winter since and it never gets old. It's pilly-perfect. It makes me feel strangely like Margaret Houlihan. I can't explain it.


6. I've said it before, I'll say it again: When it comes to fashion, just layer with reckless abandon, Lucille. Throw things together that make even you a little twitchy. For example, there's this. It is glazed pecan corduroy britches that don't really fit, a purple waffle-T with silver crowns, and an $8 cheapskate weirdo cardigan thingy. I don't recall what shoes I had on, and I don't want to. It was only a month or so ago, but it feels like a millions years. All I know is, I felt like I was back in third grade when I left the house. I doubted everything I've ever believed. I wanted to be a girl who does better than this. For a brief moment in time, I envied the girls who match a little. But then the sun got all hazy and Cory took some pictures and I like it. Purple + Glazed Pecan Pants = art. Or maybe it's just me.

7. We should have a layering linky party one day. Just think of what we'd come up with!

8. I've also kicked around a "Weird Food" linky. Seems like the perfect inaugural linky.

9. I hate the word "linky".


10. For every good picture you post of yourself on your blog, you have to post a bad one. #whatishappeninghere,cory?


11. I think I still owe myself eighteen good ones, because I've posted this picture so many times.

12. The congregation is divided on bloggers who regularly post pics of themselves. Here's where I fall: I tend to connect most to bloggers who I can picture in my head when I read them. Also, it's important that the photos they post aren't all Glamour Shots.

13. I've never did get any Glamour Shots. They seemed like the raddest thing around, there for a while. My life is just barely complete without a shot of myself in a black taffeta gown with blue eye shadow and mall bangs.

14. Glamour Shots linky!

15. Whenever I type "barely", I always, always, always first type it "barefly". What does this meannnnnnnnnnn??

16. I can't stop thinking about corduroy. A short story: I was in 6th grade. We were playing Heads Up Seven Up in our class at church. (The Bible story must have been a short one.) I had my head down. Steve Belcher tapped my head. When it was my turn to guess, I said "Steve Belcher". The teacher vehemently accused me of cheating. But I wasn't cheating. Moral of the story? Don't wear corduroy pants whilst playing Heads Up Seven Up. Duh, Steve Belcher. The end.

17. I always felt a little depressed over corduroy the bear, with his tired green overalls and his missing button and whatnot. It would be sad to only come alive after hours.

18. Sometimes I feel like I only come alive after hours.

19. Let's play free association. I'll say a word, you start typing what comes to mind. Ready? Corduroy! Go!

20. Twenty is really more than a few. It's too many. I've taken advantage. On the flip-side, I barefly remember the dreary day I had today, so there's that.