Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Pinterest is my Muse

Since the world has conspired against me by refusing to allow my admittance into the cast of New Girl, I'm left to create my own fun.

That show. Listen. I enjoy some fine media, okay? And by "fine", I obviously mean sitcoms, reality tv and dramas that might cause you to judge me. I've made peace with it all.

Last night we were cackling our way through the part where Nick refers to Jess's bobby pins first as "a bunch of metal tooth picks" and then as "Bobby's pins" and I found myself thinking, That is the job for me.

Can you even imagine getting paid lots of cash to look pretty, eat at the craft services buffet, and hang out with a bunch of hilarious people every day?

I have missed my calling.

Goodbye, everyone! I'm headed to Hollywood. YOLO!

Okay, whatever. Moving on.

Hi, this is me in an outfit. It was carefully curated to highlight my new favorite fashionABLE scarf for this post. You've probably seen every stitch of the outfit one hundred times before, because most of my duds are pretty old, or at least tweenagers, which is old when you think about it.

A reader recently said something to me to the effect of, "All my friends would think I was so full of myself if I took pictures of myself looking cute and put them on my blog." I totally understood what she was saying and sadly, I couldn't, in good conscience, say, "Oh, no! Of course they'd never think that!"

Hear this, it is highly likely that some of the people in my life think similar things, and worse. But guess what? Oh Well. Because I happen to LOVE it when people blog about what they wear. Or what they did to their living room or their pantry or their hair. I like all the dirt and every flip-flinging detail. Give me more. Show me your face already. I like it when I can see you. It makes me feel like we're actually friends. AND it gives me great ideas to rip off.
Fall Style

Case in point.

Girl with the sun at her back: I do not know you.
But you gave me the idea to pull out my age-old American-Eagle-by-way-of-TJ-Maxx sweater and button it over my gingham. And I will love you forever for it.

Girl in pink: I do not know you, either.
But I liked the way you wore your scarf, so I stole the idea.
You also got my wheels turning with that bag of yours... Stay tuned.
Oh, and the pink shoes with the pink sweater? It goes against everything I believe. Yet it works.
I shall ponder that further.

Long story short, I grabbed a bunch of old stuff I've owned forever, fluffed my hair, and took to the alley. In a mortifying turn, my neighbor (the one who sent a platter of chicken and beef mole two nights ago but now I'm just bragging) was sitting in her back yard, talking on the phone.

I can only imagine what she thought of the whole scene. And really, I can only imagine it. We have a major language barrier between us, one that is currently traversed only by pumpkin cakes and tamales. Times like this, I'm glad for it.

Cory took about one hundred pictures, and that's no laughing matter.

I looked redonkulous in many of them. Like, truly unphotogenic. But hallelujah, there were a few that worked.

So, do I walk around in my regular life with my hair fluffed and my scarf wound fetchingly around my neck? I do not. But now and then, it's fun to share some good ideas and I hope you'll do the same.

I don't think I'm super pretty or extra fashionable. I know not everyone has a capable photographer or a fancy camera at the ready. I'm not about being trendy or goading you to spend more money on yourself.

I'm about sharing my life and who I am, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

One last thing. This guy got his first 4-hour pass on Sunday. He spent it walking around the neighborhood, going to Wal Mart and McDonald's, and visiting his parents in the alley photoshoot. But that's not really the point of this photo.

The point is - What famous person does he look like? I mean, he's a RINGER! I died laughing and he vehemently disagreed but then Cory immediately confirmed it and I'll love you forever if you'll do the same.

Sidenote: I keep asking him if he would like a belt.

He doesn't find it particularly amusing.