Donald Trump has been named the 45th President of the United States.
This is a post about how that makes me feel.
I know political posts can be annoying at best, hurtful and divisive at worst, so I understand if you don't wish to read any further.
I had a hard time getting out of bed this morning. And it wasn't because the autumn air was crisp and my bed was so perfectly warm, with our two dogs snuggled beneath. And it wasn't a result of staying up until half past one, a glass of forgotten Merlot on the coffee table and a racing heart in my chest.
It was because I've never been so overwhelmingly sad.
I cried this morning as I read the official news of Donald Trump's victory. I cried harder when I thought about how his presidency could affect my friends, my family, and my country's future. Would gay couples now be denied the right to marry? What about refugees fleeing for their lives? Would they be sent away? Was rape culture not only going to continue but thrive in a country where the leader thinks it's perfectly acceptable to grab women by their pussies?
It's sickening.
For the record, I don't see Hillary Clinton with rose-colored glasses.
Deep down, I can't shake my moderate core. And I still identify as a practicing Catholic. I voted for John McCain in 2008 and Mitt Romney in 2012. And while my political beliefs have admittedly started to lean left over the past four years, I know I would have considered voting Republican this election had the candidate been someone else.
But Hillary Clinton grew on me. Not just because she was "not as bad" as Donald Trump but because she's intelligent, brave, and tenacious. She somehow kept calm during those terrible debates. She showed grace and patience during this election. She inspired me.
This morning, I mourned something bigger than a Clinton defeat. I mourned the loss of America as I believed it to be.
As the electoral college results began to roll in, I watched in horror and disbelief.
And today, I had to face the heartbreaking realization that Americans are much more racist, sexist, selfish, and hateful than I could have ever imagined. Apparently "making America great again" was worth the price of so many minorities' rights and dignity. It was apparently worth blindly following a leader with no experience and no plans.
I'm an optimistic person who likes to believe the best of people, and today, I just couldn't. It felt like part of my being had been broken.
Tomorrow, Thursday, I hope to feel more like myself again and to have the energy to figure out an action plan for how I can help spread positivity and progress. I saw that a coworker of mine decided to donate to a bunch of charities that will benefit the groups threatened by Donald Trump. How awesome is that?
I know our country will continue marching forward. We won't be ruined by this tyrannical man.
But this evening, I need to do some grieving for my own loss of innocence.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
Sunday, November 6, 2016
My Worst Fear (Well, One of Them)
On Saturday morning, I usually drive downtown to work out at my company's gym.
This past weekend was no exception, as I cheerfully whipped my car into the garage and up to the second level. There weren't many spots left, so I pulled into one of our "Fuel Efficient Vehicles Only" spaces.
When we first moved into our new building, I wouldn't dare park in any of these spots. I am a rule follower to the extreme, and I figured you needed to drive a Prius or something to park there.
Of course, it didn't take long for me to notice that I was the only person in the universe following this rule, and considering gas-guzzling SUVs and giant trucks were among the crew parking in these spaces, my little Corolla seemed to meet these low standards.
Anyways! So back to yesterday morning.
I got out of my car and was walking toward the stairs when a guy called out, "Hey! I didn't know they made a hybrid Corolla."
Oh. My. God.
I was totally being called out! This was my worst fear!
My face grew red and I stammered, "Uh, they don't? At least I don't think so. I mean, my car has good gas mileage. It's pretty efficient."
"Ooooohhhkay..." he said sarcastically, and even though I knew he was joking around, I was annoyed.
"Hold that elevator!" I replied, choosing to ride down to the ground level with him rather than taking the stairs as I normally do. "Listen, SUVs and huge cars like that usually park there. Everyone does what I just did. It's not a big deal."
"Mmmhmm..."
He looked so smug! I hated this random man.
So, I stopped irrationally explaining myself and just lied.
"I work here, and they told us it's okay," I (sort of) bluffed. "Okay?"
"Ooohhhkaayy!" he winked, waving goodbye and strolling toward his group of friends. "See ya."
The nerve.
What a jerk.
This past weekend was no exception, as I cheerfully whipped my car into the garage and up to the second level. There weren't many spots left, so I pulled into one of our "Fuel Efficient Vehicles Only" spaces.
When we first moved into our new building, I wouldn't dare park in any of these spots. I am a rule follower to the extreme, and I figured you needed to drive a Prius or something to park there.
Of course, it didn't take long for me to notice that I was the only person in the universe following this rule, and considering gas-guzzling SUVs and giant trucks were among the crew parking in these spaces, my little Corolla seemed to meet these low standards.
Anyways! So back to yesterday morning.
I got out of my car and was walking toward the stairs when a guy called out, "Hey! I didn't know they made a hybrid Corolla."
Oh. My. God.
I was totally being called out! This was my worst fear!
Source |
"Ooooohhhkay..." he said sarcastically, and even though I knew he was joking around, I was annoyed.
"Hold that elevator!" I replied, choosing to ride down to the ground level with him rather than taking the stairs as I normally do. "Listen, SUVs and huge cars like that usually park there. Everyone does what I just did. It's not a big deal."
"Mmmhmm..."
He looked so smug! I hated this random man.
So, I stopped irrationally explaining myself and just lied.
"I work here, and they told us it's okay," I (sort of) bluffed. "Okay?"
"Ooohhhkaayy!" he winked, waving goodbye and strolling toward his group of friends. "See ya."
The nerve.
What a jerk.
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Where did October go?
Hi there. It's me.
And it looks like I've made October a real kind of "bookends" month for my blog, popping in on the 1st and then disappearing until the very end of the month.
Here's a quick recap of all the fun.
We went apple picking! We ended up with 30 pounds of apples (insane), and thus had to cook up every apple recipe we could think of in the following weeks. We also each ate at least two apples a day for the entire month.
We went to the Renaissance Festival. This was only my second time going, and this year wasn't as much fun as last. Since the weather was just gorgeous, it felt like everyone had the same idea as us, and the crowds were pretty brutal. I also felt totally sick that night after eating Renaissance Festival food...eeeek!
We cooked our very own pho, and it was positively fantastic. It was also surprisingly easy to do, and pretty inexpensive.
I went camping for the very first time. And after posing for a photo in our tent and feeling like I was an L.L. Bean model, things quickly went downhill. The temperature dropped to 40°F that night, and I couldn't stop thinking about a serial killer entrenching upon our camp. Peeing in the woods was as dreadful as expected.
"Let's pack this tent up!" I exclaimed shortly before 8 o'clock that Sunday morning, shaking a poor Adam awake. "Let's GO HOME."
I will never forget how wonderful that hot shower and morning nap in our cozy bed felt. Sigh.
We hosted a costume bash this past Friday. Adam and I dressed up as Hopper and Barb from Stranger Things, Gus was a lion, and Clementine was a monkey. We had two fires going in the yard, chicken and beef chili, and lots of wonderful friends stop by. But man oh man was I ready to take off those reader glasses and itchy wig by the end of the evening.
What I remember most about this October though is the absolutely perfect weather, with so many days of sunny skies and gentle breezes. I remember the lazy weekend mornings, with hazelnut coffee and sleepy dogs, and chilly nights on the front porch sipping on red wine. I remember driving down our street after a night of rain and seeing the orange and yellow leaves floating through the air. I remember feeling cozy and content.
And it looks like I've made October a real kind of "bookends" month for my blog, popping in on the 1st and then disappearing until the very end of the month.
Here's a quick recap of all the fun.
We went apple picking! We ended up with 30 pounds of apples (insane), and thus had to cook up every apple recipe we could think of in the following weeks. We also each ate at least two apples a day for the entire month.
We went to the Renaissance Festival. This was only my second time going, and this year wasn't as much fun as last. Since the weather was just gorgeous, it felt like everyone had the same idea as us, and the crowds were pretty brutal. I also felt totally sick that night after eating Renaissance Festival food...eeeek!
We cooked our very own pho, and it was positively fantastic. It was also surprisingly easy to do, and pretty inexpensive.
I went camping for the very first time. And after posing for a photo in our tent and feeling like I was an L.L. Bean model, things quickly went downhill. The temperature dropped to 40°F that night, and I couldn't stop thinking about a serial killer entrenching upon our camp. Peeing in the woods was as dreadful as expected.
"Let's pack this tent up!" I exclaimed shortly before 8 o'clock that Sunday morning, shaking a poor Adam awake. "Let's GO HOME."
I will never forget how wonderful that hot shower and morning nap in our cozy bed felt. Sigh.
We hosted a costume bash this past Friday. Adam and I dressed up as Hopper and Barb from Stranger Things, Gus was a lion, and Clementine was a monkey. We had two fires going in the yard, chicken and beef chili, and lots of wonderful friends stop by. But man oh man was I ready to take off those reader glasses and itchy wig by the end of the evening.
What I remember most about this October though is the absolutely perfect weather, with so many days of sunny skies and gentle breezes. I remember the lazy weekend mornings, with hazelnut coffee and sleepy dogs, and chilly nights on the front porch sipping on red wine. I remember driving down our street after a night of rain and seeing the orange and yellow leaves floating through the air. I remember feeling cozy and content.
Saturday, October 1, 2016
Time for All Things FALL
While I consider September 1st as my personal start to fall (it's when I allow myself to start burning pumpkin- and leaves-scented candles), I must admit that the true beginning to autumn definitely belongs to October.
Oh, October!
I am quite pleased with our little cottage—I believe it's been nicely fall-ified.
I set out a bunch of mums and a few pumpkins on the front porch, and I even found a charming scarecrow at Michael's a few weeks ago. He is standing proudly in the front landscape, where the only thing he's actually scared so far is our Golden Retriever.
I've hung my seasonal dishtowels with care.
In our family room, I created a subtle ode to fall on the bottom shelf of the entertainment center. Aren't my Day of the Dead skeletons amazing? They're my favorites.
I've been wanting to stay in more often on the weekends, opting for evenings filled with hot tea and good books, beginning my annual need for coziness.
And we've certainly switched out our summer dinner go-tos with heartier entrées, like this roasted chicken! NOM!
Today, in celebration of the glorious month of October, I'm throwing on my overalls and we are heading to the apple orchard.
I mean, WHAT could be better? :D
Happy fall!!!
Oh, October!
I am quite pleased with our little cottage—I believe it's been nicely fall-ified.
I set out a bunch of mums and a few pumpkins on the front porch, and I even found a charming scarecrow at Michael's a few weeks ago. He is standing proudly in the front landscape, where the only thing he's actually scared so far is our Golden Retriever.
Clem isn't afraid of the scarecrow. Probably because she is blind. |
In our family room, I created a subtle ode to fall on the bottom shelf of the entertainment center. Aren't my Day of the Dead skeletons amazing? They're my favorites.
I've been wanting to stay in more often on the weekends, opting for evenings filled with hot tea and good books, beginning my annual need for coziness.
And we've certainly switched out our summer dinner go-tos with heartier entrées, like this roasted chicken! NOM!
Today, in celebration of the glorious month of October, I'm throwing on my overalls and we are heading to the apple orchard.
I mean, WHAT could be better? :D
Happy fall!!!
Wednesday, September 7, 2016
To knit or crochet: that is the question
As many of those close to me know, I am not a tough sell.
When a Sephora associate promises me the jar of beauty cream she's holding is the secret to blemish-free skin? I'm tossing that miracle moisturizer into my basket.
When a friend swears that a certain self-help book cured her anxiety? I'm requesting it from the library (or buying it from Amazon!) in a matter of moments.
When a coworker raves about a new television show on Netflix? You'd better believe I'm blocking out my evening to binge watch.
So while reading Jen Lancaster's Tao of Martha last night and coming across Jen's description of her loom and how calming she finds the process, I felt quite sure I also needed to buy myself a loom. Or take up some sort of textile hobby.
So my question is, do any of you knit or crochet? Which one should I choose?
I've heard varied opinions about which one I should pursue and figured additional feedback would be helpful.
I'd like to create cozy blankets and warm shawls.
I imagine myself knitting or crocheting these beautiful pieces while drinking a glass of red wine and watching my usual rotation of televisions shows (The Office, Parks and Recreation, The Mindy Project, and Sex and the City). Obviously both dogs will sit at my feet as Adam gazes lovingly at me from across the room.
All thoughts welcomed and appreciated!
When a Sephora associate promises me the jar of beauty cream she's holding is the secret to blemish-free skin? I'm tossing that miracle moisturizer into my basket.
When a friend swears that a certain self-help book cured her anxiety? I'm requesting it from the library (or buying it from Amazon!) in a matter of moments.
When a coworker raves about a new television show on Netflix? You'd better believe I'm blocking out my evening to binge watch.
So while reading Jen Lancaster's Tao of Martha last night and coming across Jen's description of her loom and how calming she finds the process, I felt quite sure I also needed to buy myself a loom. Or take up some sort of textile hobby.
So my question is, do any of you knit or crochet? Which one should I choose?
via |
I'd like to create cozy blankets and warm shawls.
I imagine myself knitting or crocheting these beautiful pieces while drinking a glass of red wine and watching my usual rotation of televisions shows (The Office, Parks and Recreation, The Mindy Project, and Sex and the City). Obviously both dogs will sit at my feet as Adam gazes lovingly at me from across the room.
All thoughts welcomed and appreciated!
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Pursuing a Big Dream
Ever since I can remember, I've loved to write and tell stories.
My parents would give me giant stacks of computer paper when I was little, and I'd pen (technically pencil) the romantic and harrowing tales of Princess Lisa and Prince Jimmy.
Lisa was my babysitter's name. Jimmy was the cute, shy boy who hung out in the art corner of my kindergarten classroom. He looked like a young Josh Hartnett and was my first crush following a summer spent swooning over Ben the Lifeguard at Shady Lane Swim Club.
Anyways.
I wrote my first full-length novel in high school. My heroine was the president's daughter (Remember when that was a big thing? I mean, there were two movies in the late 1990s and early 2000s with this very same heroine!) who fell in love with a boy "from the wrong side of the tracks."
As if I had any idea of what that meant.
"I noticed you had several sentences where you ended with a preposition. I'm not sure if that is an error or whether you did that on purpose to show that Maverick did not always use good grammar. I'm looking forward to the next book. You are very good at developing a story line."
—Email from my grandma, 08/22/06
"It really felt like it was coming from the point of view of a teenager (which it is) and in a novel such as this, one with a teenage main character, it is essential that the portrayal of the teenage experience is believable and realistic and I think you did a great job of this because, well, you are a teenager."
—Email from my friend Brandon, 11/11/06
As you can see, it received RAVE reviews!
Anyways. I circulated that book around friends and family and had a really fun time receiving feedback. I wish I could provide you with a few excerpts, but the novel was lost in its entirety the day my laptop was stolen from my Chicago dorm room.
So if you ever see any books out there about the president's daughter spending her summer in Cincinnati, Ohio? CALL ME!
The second novel I wrote took me the longest.
When I started it, I was one sad gal. My high school sweetheart had broken up with me for...wait for it...his fraternity brother.
He was gay. I was confused and devastated.
I turned to writing for comfort, beginning a chick lit book starring a heroine dealing with a very similar heartbreak to my own.
During the course of writing this novel, though, I changed quite a bit. My ex-boyfriend became my best friend. I met and dated new people. I didn't work on the novel very consistently, and thus, the writing process ended up dragging out over nearly five years!
Wowza! Five years!
By the time I wrapped it all up, I was a completely different person.
I self-published the book on Amazon (You can buy it here!) in December 2014. I'm proud of how it turned out, and I think it's a very fun read with a lot of heart, but I also learned a lot of writing lessons along the way.
Most important, I learned that while writing will always be therapeutic for me, I don't want to create another heroine that's so similar to myself. It's limiting for your writing process and really confuses things when you the writer are changing as you're penning the book. I mean, if you follow all of your own exact feelings and moods, your protagonist might look a bit schizophrenic.
Second, I learned that it's basically impossible to find an agent or publisher for a book you've already put out there on Amazon.
Amateur mistakes, but very valuable lessons learned.
All of this brings me to today, the present.
I finished my second novel at the end of July. This one only took me about seven months to write, and I am really, really proud of how it turned out.
Many mornings, I would wake up at 5am and write for a few hours before work. I stayed in weekend nights and stayed awake much later than I should on work nights.
I feel like this latest novel is finally the point where talent and dedication came together, which is one spectacular combination.
My novel has...
I am about six weeks into the querying process (the tip of the iceberg, really), and it's an experience that can be discouraging for the most optimistic and determined of writers. I have been reading other authors' publishing stories, and while each is different, I have a good perspective of how grueling this process can be.
Everyone's taste is different; just because an agent passes on your book doesn't mean it isn't up to snuff.
Finding an agent can take years and years.
After you do find an agent, it can take a long time to find a publisher.
And then! Even if the stars align and all of this does happen...maybe your book won't sell well.
I try to be realistic about what it takes to become a published author. But sometimes, I feel a little overwhelmed by the whole ordeal rather than staying positive and thinking of this all as a fun adventure.
I mean, I'm chasing my biggest dream! How awesome is that?
And I have enjoyed reaching out to agents. Even when passing on my work, many agents have sent along an encouraging note and positive feedback. And I'm definitely learning new things about the querying process and the publishing industry daily.
So today, I needed to write this all down and put it out there, out into the universe. I needed to remind myself of how far I've come and how determined I am to become a published author.
I love telling stories. I love making people laugh. I love the overly dramatic.
Meg Cabot, Sophie Kinsella, and Emily Giffin (among many, many other authors) have been sources of happiness, comfort, humor, and calm for me over the years. I want to publish these same sort of tales that help people escape the anxieties of everyday life for a bit.
If you've made it to the end of this post, you are #suchagoodblogfriend, and thank you for following along.
Any positive thoughts or vibes you'd like to send my way are much appreciated!
My parents would give me giant stacks of computer paper when I was little, and I'd pen (technically pencil) the romantic and harrowing tales of Princess Lisa and Prince Jimmy.
Lisa was my babysitter's name. Jimmy was the cute, shy boy who hung out in the art corner of my kindergarten classroom. He looked like a young Josh Hartnett and was my first crush following a summer spent swooning over Ben the Lifeguard at Shady Lane Swim Club.
This is me, right around age five, looking a little crazed. |
I wrote my first full-length novel in high school. My heroine was the president's daughter (Remember when that was a big thing? I mean, there were two movies in the late 1990s and early 2000s with this very same heroine!) who fell in love with a boy "from the wrong side of the tracks."
As if I had any idea of what that meant.
"I noticed you had several sentences where you ended with a preposition. I'm not sure if that is an error or whether you did that on purpose to show that Maverick did not always use good grammar. I'm looking forward to the next book. You are very good at developing a story line."
—Email from my grandma, 08/22/06
"It really felt like it was coming from the point of view of a teenager (which it is) and in a novel such as this, one with a teenage main character, it is essential that the portrayal of the teenage experience is believable and realistic and I think you did a great job of this because, well, you are a teenager."
—Email from my friend Brandon, 11/11/06
As you can see, it received RAVE reviews!
Anyways. I circulated that book around friends and family and had a really fun time receiving feedback. I wish I could provide you with a few excerpts, but the novel was lost in its entirety the day my laptop was stolen from my Chicago dorm room.
So if you ever see any books out there about the president's daughter spending her summer in Cincinnati, Ohio? CALL ME!
The second novel I wrote took me the longest.
When I started it, I was one sad gal. My high school sweetheart had broken up with me for...wait for it...his fraternity brother.
He was gay. I was confused and devastated.
I turned to writing for comfort, beginning a chick lit book starring a heroine dealing with a very similar heartbreak to my own.
During the course of writing this novel, though, I changed quite a bit. My ex-boyfriend became my best friend. I met and dated new people. I didn't work on the novel very consistently, and thus, the writing process ended up dragging out over nearly five years!
Wowza! Five years!
By the time I wrapped it all up, I was a completely different person.
I self-published the book on Amazon (You can buy it here!) in December 2014. I'm proud of how it turned out, and I think it's a very fun read with a lot of heart, but I also learned a lot of writing lessons along the way.
Second, I learned that it's basically impossible to find an agent or publisher for a book you've already put out there on Amazon.
Amateur mistakes, but very valuable lessons learned.
All of this brings me to today, the present.
I finished my second novel at the end of July. This one only took me about seven months to write, and I am really, really proud of how it turned out.
Adam and I celebrated the night I finished with pink champagne and Moscow Mules |
I feel like this latest novel is finally the point where talent and dedication came together, which is one spectacular combination.
My novel has...
- quirky pop culture references
- a great love story
- wonderful friendships and family relationships
- witty dialogue
- A whole lot of heart
I am about six weeks into the querying process (the tip of the iceberg, really), and it's an experience that can be discouraging for the most optimistic and determined of writers. I have been reading other authors' publishing stories, and while each is different, I have a good perspective of how grueling this process can be.
I split my querying time between this book and the Literary Market Place |
Finding an agent can take years and years.
After you do find an agent, it can take a long time to find a publisher.
And then! Even if the stars align and all of this does happen...maybe your book won't sell well.
I try to be realistic about what it takes to become a published author. But sometimes, I feel a little overwhelmed by the whole ordeal rather than staying positive and thinking of this all as a fun adventure.
I mean, I'm chasing my biggest dream! How awesome is that?
And I have enjoyed reaching out to agents. Even when passing on my work, many agents have sent along an encouraging note and positive feedback. And I'm definitely learning new things about the querying process and the publishing industry daily.
So today, I needed to write this all down and put it out there, out into the universe. I needed to remind myself of how far I've come and how determined I am to become a published author.
I love telling stories. I love making people laugh. I love the overly dramatic.
Meg Cabot, Sophie Kinsella, and Emily Giffin (among many, many other authors) have been sources of happiness, comfort, humor, and calm for me over the years. I want to publish these same sort of tales that help people escape the anxieties of everyday life for a bit.
If you've made it to the end of this post, you are #suchagoodblogfriend, and thank you for following along.
Any positive thoughts or vibes you'd like to send my way are much appreciated!
Monday, September 5, 2016
Labor Day, Labor Yay
Happy Labor Day, one and all!
Did you know it isn't even clear who the founder of Labor Day is? Some say it was Peter J. McGuire, who was the General Secretary of the Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners (I bet Aidan Shaw would have also been a member of this group) and a cofounder of the American Federation of Labor, while others argue that it was in fact Matthew Maguire, a machinist.
Either way, both men have eerily similar last names.
And no matter whose idea it was, the holiday was first celebrated on Tuesday, September 5, 1882 in New York City.
That's a long time ago!
What I really learned during my brief research is if you're a working guy or gal contributing to the American economy...this day is about you! So you'd better be celebrating yourself however you most like to celebrate.
Isn't it so luxurious having a Monday off from work?
I woke up around 7:45 this morning to the pitter-patter of Clementine's feet against the hardwood floors. Since she's used to going out at 6:15 on workday mornings, I applauded her patience.
I brewed a big pot of coffee and assembled a healthy breakfast starring a granola bar (homemade, with love, by Adam) and a quartet of blood orange wedges.
I have my new favorite candle scent going in the dining room (Weathered Oak from Target—when I discovered it last week, they were already sold out of the large sizes) and the sun is SO bright I had to close my happy, yellow curtains to preserve my already limited eyesight.
I plan on mapping out my week ahead before spending most of the day reading and writing and eating good foods.
My three favorite things, basically.
I hope you have a day of luxury and relaxation ahead, as well!
Thank you, Peter J. McGuire or Matthew Maguire, for giving us this Monday away from work! It is much appreciated.
Did you know it isn't even clear who the founder of Labor Day is? Some say it was Peter J. McGuire, who was the General Secretary of the Brotherhood of Carpenters and Joiners (I bet Aidan Shaw would have also been a member of this group) and a cofounder of the American Federation of Labor, while others argue that it was in fact Matthew Maguire, a machinist.
Either way, both men have eerily similar last names.
And no matter whose idea it was, the holiday was first celebrated on Tuesday, September 5, 1882 in New York City.
That's a long time ago!
What I really learned during my brief research is if you're a working guy or gal contributing to the American economy...this day is about you! So you'd better be celebrating yourself however you most like to celebrate.
Isn't it so luxurious having a Monday off from work?
I woke up around 7:45 this morning to the pitter-patter of Clementine's feet against the hardwood floors. Since she's used to going out at 6:15 on workday mornings, I applauded her patience.
This is from Saturday night. GAH IS SHE NOT THE CUTEST, WEIRDEST CREATURE? |
I have my new favorite candle scent going in the dining room (Weathered Oak from Target—when I discovered it last week, they were already sold out of the large sizes) and the sun is SO bright I had to close my happy, yellow curtains to preserve my already limited eyesight.
I plan on mapping out my week ahead before spending most of the day reading and writing and eating good foods.
My three favorite things, basically.
I hope you have a day of luxury and relaxation ahead, as well!
Thank you, Peter J. McGuire or Matthew Maguire, for giving us this Monday away from work! It is much appreciated.
Saturday, September 3, 2016
Things I Did This Morning
I was out of bed by 8:30am, which may not sound especially impressive, but considering I can sleep until noon quite easily...this was good for me.
And then! I even made the bed.
I let the dogs outside and fed them. They were pleased.
I threw on yoga pants and a t-shirt and decided to head to the gym. I was proud of myself for not putting any makeup on. While I have no problem going into public with makeup-less eyes, I'm really self-conscious about my skin (which is red and splotchy). So choosing to go makeup-free was a good step forward for me!
The weather was absolutely perfect though, so instead of driving to the gym, I headed toward my neighborhood park.
I felt quite rugged hiking in the woods.
I forgot how much fun it is to jump over logs and shimmy through narrow paths. Plus, every hiker I passed was really friendly.
Well. Excluding one couple who was actually running through the forrest. I had to jump out of their way! That's how fast they came at me!
And they did not even apologize.
The woman did have the most stellar six-pack I'd ever seen, though. You probably have to run in a somewhat inconsiderate manner to maintain a physique like that.
She was likely thinking, "Get out of my way, Girl Moseying Through the Woods While Listening to the P.S. I Love You Soundtrack!"
And of course, right when I made it to the part of the trail that leads to the cliff overlook, I was blocked by employees of the park who were cutting down trees.
But that's okay. The fun is in the journey, not the destination, right?
After my outdoorsy endeavors, I ventured back to my comfort zone: shopping.
I picked up a photo order I've been letting sit for a bit too long (I swear, it's my easiest errands that I procrastinate the most!), and I walked through a resale shop and Michael's, admiring artwork and jewelry at the former and Halloween decorations at the latter.
I stopped into HomeGoods and smelled a bunch of soaps without buying any. I also found one of those glass dome/base pieces that I really loved. This glass dome sat on a copper base, and I daydreamed about all of the sweets I could bake and set inside.
Since I deep-cleaned the bathroom last night, I decided I deserved a long bath this afternoon, so off to Ulta I went for a calming face mask.
Not only did I found a good face mask, I also ended up with bubble bath and a cherry-shaped lip balm! How did I not know about this Tony Moly brand? Love, love, love!
And now, I am opening up my Whole Foods lunch from the hot bar and planning on watching some Sex and the City before sending out a few more query letters this afternoon.
I hope everyone's long weekend is off to a nice start!
And then! I even made the bed.
I let the dogs outside and fed them. They were pleased.
I threw on yoga pants and a t-shirt and decided to head to the gym. I was proud of myself for not putting any makeup on. While I have no problem going into public with makeup-less eyes, I'm really self-conscious about my skin (which is red and splotchy). So choosing to go makeup-free was a good step forward for me!
The weather was absolutely perfect though, so instead of driving to the gym, I headed toward my neighborhood park.
I felt quite rugged hiking in the woods.
I forgot how much fun it is to jump over logs and shimmy through narrow paths. Plus, every hiker I passed was really friendly.
Well. Excluding one couple who was actually running through the forrest. I had to jump out of their way! That's how fast they came at me!
And they did not even apologize.
The woman did have the most stellar six-pack I'd ever seen, though. You probably have to run in a somewhat inconsiderate manner to maintain a physique like that.
She was likely thinking, "Get out of my way, Girl Moseying Through the Woods While Listening to the P.S. I Love You Soundtrack!"
And of course, right when I made it to the part of the trail that leads to the cliff overlook, I was blocked by employees of the park who were cutting down trees.
But that's okay. The fun is in the journey, not the destination, right?
After my outdoorsy endeavors, I ventured back to my comfort zone: shopping.
I picked up a photo order I've been letting sit for a bit too long (I swear, it's my easiest errands that I procrastinate the most!), and I walked through a resale shop and Michael's, admiring artwork and jewelry at the former and Halloween decorations at the latter.
This was one of the pictures I picked up today. It's from our Pacific Northwest trip, and THAT WATERFALL IS REAL! |
Since I deep-cleaned the bathroom last night, I decided I deserved a long bath this afternoon, so off to Ulta I went for a calming face mask.
Not only did I found a good face mask, I also ended up with bubble bath and a cherry-shaped lip balm! How did I not know about this Tony Moly brand? Love, love, love!
And now, I am opening up my Whole Foods lunch from the hot bar and planning on watching some Sex and the City before sending out a few more query letters this afternoon.
I hope everyone's long weekend is off to a nice start!
Thursday, September 1, 2016
SEPTEMBER IS HERE!
Eeeeppp!!!
Happy September, guys and gals!
I always look forward to September 1st as I consider it the unofficial start of the autumn season.
And Cincinnati did not disappoint.
The weather was absolutely spectacular—we're talking temperatures in the mid-70s, low humidity, and blue skies.
Since Adam and I both work downtown, we met up at lunchtime at Smale Park.
We walked through the gardens and glided away on the swings, looking out on the river as steamboats paddled by.
It was really lovely.
After work, I popped by the UPS Store and shipped off my too-big Bean Boots and then visited Ulta for new foundation. After those two errands, I made a stop at Target to grab some deodorant, a new alarm clock (Adam says my current one is too bright, I say his eyes are too sensitive), and another fall-scented candle (because you can't ever be too stocked up, right?).
I came home and practically sprinted to the bathroom cabinet where my stockpile of candles lives. I pulled out one of my most favorite—Heirloom Pumpkin—and fired it up.
Oh, how I cannot wait for the weather to cool down and go apple picking and carve pumpkins and eat shepherd's pie and...
Well. You get the point.
I'm an autumn kind of girl.
Happy September, guys and gals!
I always look forward to September 1st as I consider it the unofficial start of the autumn season.
And Cincinnati did not disappoint.
The weather was absolutely spectacular—we're talking temperatures in the mid-70s, low humidity, and blue skies.
Since Adam and I both work downtown, we met up at lunchtime at Smale Park.
We walked through the gardens and glided away on the swings, looking out on the river as steamboats paddled by.
It was really lovely.
After work, I popped by the UPS Store and shipped off my too-big Bean Boots and then visited Ulta for new foundation. After those two errands, I made a stop at Target to grab some deodorant, a new alarm clock (Adam says my current one is too bright, I say his eyes are too sensitive), and another fall-scented candle (because you can't ever be too stocked up, right?).
I came home and practically sprinted to the bathroom cabinet where my stockpile of candles lives. I pulled out one of my most favorite—Heirloom Pumpkin—and fired it up.
Oh, how I cannot wait for the weather to cool down and go apple picking and carve pumpkins and eat shepherd's pie and...
Well. You get the point.
I'm an autumn kind of girl.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Rock that Frock
This summer, I had a dress made by a very lovely seamstress.
My first piece of couture was completed just about a week and a half ago.
Isn't it pretty? It's so fun and flouncy and bouncy.
"Would you ever wear it to work?" One of my coworkers asked.
"Sure! Maybe!" I laughed, definitely not serious.
But last night, as I was choosing my outfit for today, I thought, Why not rock that frock?
Since my seamstress made the dress two separate pieces, I decided to pair the purple, tulle skirt with a button-up shirt.
Fairy princess meets Meg Ryan Ă la Kate & Leopold meets Carrie Bradshaw meets career woman.
"Whoa! Heading to the prom?" Adam asked this morning.
"Is it too much?" I replied, beginning to have doubts as I stared at my giant, poufy skirt in the bedroom mirror.
He smiled and shook his head, "Nope. Not for you. You look very pretty."
I know I say it a lot, but Adam really is the greatest.
So I grabbed my lunch bag and car keys and headed out the door.
Driving to work was a little difficult as the tulle took up most of the front seat.
I sat in my car a few minutes once I arrived at work, suddenly anxious all over again.
Would people think I was a total weirdo? Or perhaps that I desperate for attention? Or a total weirdo desperate for attention?
Rock that frock, I reminded myself.
I took a deep breath and exited the Corolla, my gym bag slung over my shoulder and as much confidence as I could muster in my step.
An older woman was exiting the elevators, coming from the hotel next door, and she gasped.
"I love it!" she said, pointing to my skirt.
Her adult daughter smiled at me, "You look really pretty."
Those gals gave me the final bit of confidence I needed to walk into work.
And the day couldn't have gone better!
Coworkers I am friends with and coworkers who are total strangers alike all complimented my skirt.
No one was mean or made fun of me (at least not to my face). And no one seemed to think I was a total weirdo desperate for attention.
It actually ended up being a very fun day.
I mean, it's kind of hard to let anything at work get you too stressed out when you're wearing a huge, tulle skirt, you know?
So while I don't think I'll be wearing the ensemble again anytime soon (bathroom trips were a bit tricky and a tulle skirt isn't the most comfortable thing to wear for 10 hours), I'm happy I set aside my fears and rocked my frock.
My first piece of couture was completed just about a week and a half ago.
Isn't it pretty? It's so fun and flouncy and bouncy.
"Would you ever wear it to work?" One of my coworkers asked.
"Sure! Maybe!" I laughed, definitely not serious.
But last night, as I was choosing my outfit for today, I thought, Why not rock that frock?
Since my seamstress made the dress two separate pieces, I decided to pair the purple, tulle skirt with a button-up shirt.
Fairy princess meets Meg Ryan Ă la Kate & Leopold meets Carrie Bradshaw meets career woman.
"Whoa! Heading to the prom?" Adam asked this morning.
"Is it too much?" I replied, beginning to have doubts as I stared at my giant, poufy skirt in the bedroom mirror.
He smiled and shook his head, "Nope. Not for you. You look very pretty."
I know I say it a lot, but Adam really is the greatest.
So I grabbed my lunch bag and car keys and headed out the door.
Driving to work was a little difficult as the tulle took up most of the front seat.
I sat in my car a few minutes once I arrived at work, suddenly anxious all over again.
Would people think I was a total weirdo? Or perhaps that I desperate for attention? Or a total weirdo desperate for attention?
Rock that frock, I reminded myself.
I took a deep breath and exited the Corolla, my gym bag slung over my shoulder and as much confidence as I could muster in my step.
An older woman was exiting the elevators, coming from the hotel next door, and she gasped.
"I love it!" she said, pointing to my skirt.
Her adult daughter smiled at me, "You look really pretty."
Those gals gave me the final bit of confidence I needed to walk into work.
And the day couldn't have gone better!
Coworkers I am friends with and coworkers who are total strangers alike all complimented my skirt.
No one was mean or made fun of me (at least not to my face). And no one seemed to think I was a total weirdo desperate for attention.
It actually ended up being a very fun day.
I mean, it's kind of hard to let anything at work get you too stressed out when you're wearing a huge, tulle skirt, you know?
So while I don't think I'll be wearing the ensemble again anytime soon (bathroom trips were a bit tricky and a tulle skirt isn't the most comfortable thing to wear for 10 hours), I'm happy I set aside my fears and rocked my frock.
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
Tumultuous Tuesday
What a day of ups and downs!
This morning, I got to work from home for a few hours before my dentist appointment, which was total bliss.
At 7am, I sat down at my dining room table and opened my laptop. The sunshine was streaming through the windows, and my yellow curtains made the effect especially happy and bright. I brewed a pot of hazelnut cream coffee, and Clem nestled into her bed beside my feet.
Gus moseyed in around 8 o'clock.
"Well, well, well! Look who decided to show up for work," I pretended to scold him.
Except Gus is super sensitive and got really bashful and ashamed, so I had to remind him I was only teasing.
My morning glory was short-lived because at 9:45, it was time to venture to the dentist.
DAH DAH DUUUHMMM!
I hate, hate, hate the dentist.
I think and worry and dread going for days before my appointment.
Today, I had an appointment with a new dentist (Adam's family dentist), so I was hopeful but maybe even a little more anxious. For all I knew, this DDS would be worse than my previous one, who always found problems in my mouth and then would boast about all of the fancy things he was buying.
More than a little suspicious, if you ask me.
I'll bet my million fillings and crown funded some of those purchases, Dr. Distrustful.
Anyways.
I arrived a bit early for my appointment and filled out the new patient paperwork. Under the section where they ask about any medical conditions they should be aware of, I wrote all shouty, "I HAVE A CROWN!"
You see, one of my biggest fears is that dumb crown falling out, especially during the scraping part of a dental cleaning.
My dental hygienist came out and could not have been any friendlier.
"Are you from Cin—" she began to ask.
"IamsonervousbecauseIhatethedentist,andI'mjustreally,really,reallyanxiousrightnow!!!" I interrupted her, my voice hurried and panicked.
She smiled, "That's okay. I'll talk you through everything."
And she did!
She explained everything she was doing to my mouth along with a scientific explanation and why it was important. For the first time in years, I felt my anxiety in that dentist chair melt away.
Sure, the scraping part is still uncomfortable, but the hygienist was gentler and didn't make it feel as bad.
When the dentist came in to visit me, he said my teeth were beautiful and strong. He told me to floss more often and said they'd see me in six months.
How easy was that?*
I was practically walking on sunshine as I drove to work. I called my mom on the way and reported how my new DDS practice rocked and bragged about my cavity-free mouth.
My jolly good mood quickly faded when I pulled into the parking garage at work.
Every. Single. Spot. Was. Taken.
I circled around the garage for 25 MINUTES along with four other cars looking for a spot.
Finally, finally, we all found spots on the very bottom basement level. Which is incredibly scary and creepy since you have no cellphone service down there, and there is obviously no sunlight.
My workday continued without any further inconveniences, and I even fit in a workout at the end of the day. I wasn't in the gym for as long as I'd have liked, but I don't think I'm feeling quite back to 100% after yesterday's stomach troubles.
I drove home and warmed up some leftover P.F. Chang's lettuce wraps, which was mecca from the heavens, of course.
"This day is finishing off strong!" I declared to Gus and Clem and Adam. "Now you guys can watch me try on my Bean Boots."
Ah yes, did I mention how I finally pulled the trigger and ordered a pair of L.L. Bean Boots?
Giddily, I opened the cardboard box and beheld their hand-sewn-in-Maine beauty.
I slid my foot inside.
Too easily.
Despite my thorough sizing research, I had made the ultimate mistake and ordered my Bean Boots too big.
"Do they fit okay?" Adam asked, surely sensing the terror beginning to show in my eyes.
"I mean, boots are supposed to be a little big!" I said quickly. "To fit knit socks...right? RIGHT???"
"They shouldn't be too big. Or else you'll get blisters or hurt yourself," Adam said, reasonable as ever. "Do your feet slide in them?"
Oh, God, yes. They slid all over the place.
I wanted to sob.
So now I'll be returning these beautiful, beautiful boots and exchanging them for a smaller pair.
I believe it's time to pour myself a glass of wine and end this rollercoaster Tuesday on a relaxing note. My emotions could certainly use a break.
*God, I love Ina Garten.
This morning, I got to work from home for a few hours before my dentist appointment, which was total bliss.
At 7am, I sat down at my dining room table and opened my laptop. The sunshine was streaming through the windows, and my yellow curtains made the effect especially happy and bright. I brewed a pot of hazelnut cream coffee, and Clem nestled into her bed beside my feet.
Gus moseyed in around 8 o'clock.
"Well, well, well! Look who decided to show up for work," I pretended to scold him.
Except Gus is super sensitive and got really bashful and ashamed, so I had to remind him I was only teasing.
My morning glory was short-lived because at 9:45, it was time to venture to the dentist.
DAH DAH DUUUHMMM!
I hate, hate, hate the dentist.
I think and worry and dread going for days before my appointment.
Today, I had an appointment with a new dentist (Adam's family dentist), so I was hopeful but maybe even a little more anxious. For all I knew, this DDS would be worse than my previous one, who always found problems in my mouth and then would boast about all of the fancy things he was buying.
More than a little suspicious, if you ask me.
I'll bet my million fillings and crown funded some of those purchases, Dr. Distrustful.
Anyways.
I arrived a bit early for my appointment and filled out the new patient paperwork. Under the section where they ask about any medical conditions they should be aware of, I wrote all shouty, "I HAVE A CROWN!"
You see, one of my biggest fears is that dumb crown falling out, especially during the scraping part of a dental cleaning.
My dental hygienist came out and could not have been any friendlier.
"Are you from Cin—" she began to ask.
"IamsonervousbecauseIhatethedentist,andI'mjustreally,really,reallyanxiousrightnow!!!" I interrupted her, my voice hurried and panicked.
She smiled, "That's okay. I'll talk you through everything."
And she did!
She explained everything she was doing to my mouth along with a scientific explanation and why it was important. For the first time in years, I felt my anxiety in that dentist chair melt away.
Sure, the scraping part is still uncomfortable, but the hygienist was gentler and didn't make it feel as bad.
When the dentist came in to visit me, he said my teeth were beautiful and strong. He told me to floss more often and said they'd see me in six months.
How easy was that?*
I was practically walking on sunshine as I drove to work. I called my mom on the way and reported how my new DDS practice rocked and bragged about my cavity-free mouth.
My jolly good mood quickly faded when I pulled into the parking garage at work.
Every. Single. Spot. Was. Taken.
I circled around the garage for 25 MINUTES along with four other cars looking for a spot.
Finally, finally, we all found spots on the very bottom basement level. Which is incredibly scary and creepy since you have no cellphone service down there, and there is obviously no sunlight.
My workday continued without any further inconveniences, and I even fit in a workout at the end of the day. I wasn't in the gym for as long as I'd have liked, but I don't think I'm feeling quite back to 100% after yesterday's stomach troubles.
I drove home and warmed up some leftover P.F. Chang's lettuce wraps, which was mecca from the heavens, of course.
"This day is finishing off strong!" I declared to Gus and Clem and Adam. "Now you guys can watch me try on my Bean Boots."
Ah yes, did I mention how I finally pulled the trigger and ordered a pair of L.L. Bean Boots?
Giddily, I opened the cardboard box and beheld their hand-sewn-in-Maine beauty.
I slid my foot inside.
Too easily.
Despite my thorough sizing research, I had made the ultimate mistake and ordered my Bean Boots too big.
"Do they fit okay?" Adam asked, surely sensing the terror beginning to show in my eyes.
"I mean, boots are supposed to be a little big!" I said quickly. "To fit knit socks...right? RIGHT???"
"They shouldn't be too big. Or else you'll get blisters or hurt yourself," Adam said, reasonable as ever. "Do your feet slide in them?"
Oh, God, yes. They slid all over the place.
I wanted to sob.
So now I'll be returning these beautiful, beautiful boots and exchanging them for a smaller pair.
I believe it's time to pour myself a glass of wine and end this rollercoaster Tuesday on a relaxing note. My emotions could certainly use a break.
*God, I love Ina Garten.
Monday, August 29, 2016
Current Mood: BLAH
I'm writing this blog post from bed where I'm hunkered down with a box of saltine crackers and a cool Diet Coke.
Whoops.
Just the sort of thing to happen on your first Monday back from vacation, I suppose. Murphy's Law and all that jazz.
*...and yet here I am blogging about it like a weirdo
My stomach has been all out of whack today.
An hour or two after I had finished breakfast (which was a simple strawberry and pineapple medley), I began experiencing terrible stomach pains.
Since I'm a lady, I will refrain from going into further detail.
Plus, I mean, who wants to hear about that sort of thing?*
Plus, I mean, who wants to hear about that sort of thing?*
I figured my morning coffee hadn't sat well or perhaps I was nervous about my dentist appointment tomorrow (because I HATE the dentist) and continued on with my day.
I went out to lunch with a few of my team members at one of the restaurants below our office.
The food there is so fresh and delicious. It's one of those places where it's difficult to decide what to order since everything looks good.
I chose the burger but switched out the fries for a tossed greens. I felt quite smug and proud of myself for the healthy side substitution.
Go, Jenna, go!
Lunch was divine, and I carried on with my workday afterwards fine and dandy.
But then? A few hours later?
The horrible stomach pains were back! Except this time, they were accompanied by sweating and light-headedness!
Once again, I'll be polite and just say that man oh man, was I feeling ill.
I contemplated going home, but I only had half an hour left of my day, and my German Heritage can be a real bear when it comes to these sort of things.
You can last 30 more minutes. You need to finish out your full day's work. My German Heritage told me, all serious and gruff. Don't be a slacker!
So I wrapped up a big project before finally venturing to my little Corolla and journeying back to my abode.
I've spent most of the evening sleeping, and it doesn't look like saltines are even going to stay down tonight.
I'm wondering if I caught some food poisoning from something I ate yesterday (I recently heard that most people have food poisoning when they think it's a stomach bug). I also just learned that drinking soda is like one of the last things you want to do.
Whoops.
Just the sort of thing to happen on your first Monday back from vacation, I suppose. Murphy's Law and all that jazz.
*...and yet here I am blogging about it like a weirdo
Sunday, August 28, 2016
See ya later, Summer!
I realize most people enjoy...no, love...sweet summertime.
But I am not one of those people.
Sure, I like certain decidedly summer things:
But I am not one of those people.
Sure, I like certain decidedly summer things:
- Thunderstorms (We are having one right now! It's even hailing!)
- Dining al fresco (this excludes outdoor dining where the bugs are especially bitey or include any insect that's out to sting me)
- Fun and fruity drinks
- Tory Burch "Miller" Sandals
- Swimming
- The smell of sunscreen
Everything else? Meh.
After arriving home from cool Michigan late last night, I feel especially "over" summer.
Beautiful Lake Michigan |
There were a few days up in Harbor Springs and Petoskey that I actually wore a sweater and rain slicker! So coming home to 90° temperatures and Cincinnati's oppressive humidity only worsened my wrath for this time of year.
Proof of my fall-like ensemble. This is me standing in line outside of Tom's Mom's Cookies in Harbor Springs. FYI: They're worth the wait. |
Is anyone else out there ready for fall?
It probably doesn't help that I went a bit crazy today at Target.*
Their fall collection is amazing!!! I ended up with a few turtlenecks, this AWESOME beige vest for work (it's so chic), and a dress.
Tra la la! I'm going to look so posh this autumn!
Anyways.
September arrives this week, and I couldn't be happier to bid farewell to summer! ;) Bring on the cooler temps!
*Said millions of women everywhere
Thursday, August 18, 2016
Vegging out: HBO-style
Last night, I poured myself a glass of cab and nestled into the coziest spot on the couch, amongst the blankets and animals.
Animals meaning Gus and Clementine.
We aren't running a zoo here, I swear.
I flipped open to where I had left off in the mystery I've been reading, but I just wasn't in the whole "missing woman, murderer on the loose in a small town" mood.
So instead, I grabbed the Apple TV remote and navigated to the HBO Go app.
Does anyone else consider disturbing documentaries a guilty pleasure?
I skipped over a few true crime films before landing on Americans in Bed.
Disturbing, indeed.
I started the documentary, sipping my red wine thoughtfully, and waiting to be shocked or scandalized.
Except I felt neither of those emotions.
Instead, I found myself charmed, laughing, and even crying at some parts. The documentary wasn't really about sex. It was about love and relationships. Some of the couples left me sad and depressed, but most of them made me feel happy and hopeful.
It was a really well done film.
In typical Jenna-drinking-wine fashion, I was not ready for bed yet.
Usually tucked into bed and quickly heading toward dreamland at 10pm, the moment you give me a glass of wine, I am suddenly a night owl with a severe case of FOMO.
What movie would I watch next?
Since Adam was busy doing freelance work, I chose a more female-centric film that I'd had my eye on for a while. Brooklyn.
You guys, my eyes literally hurt this morning! That's how many times Brooklyn made me cry! The acting, the story...it was all so beautiful. If you haven't seen the movie or read the book, the protagonist is a young, Irish woman named Ellis Lacey (pronounced AY-liss, not ELLE-liss, which really confused me, by the way) who immigrates to the United States.
And let's just say there is the most swoon-worthy love story on top of some epic self-actualization on Ellis' part.
Anyways.
I highly recommend both movies if you happen to come across either.
They'll make you laugh, cry, and look at life in a new and exciting way.
Exactly what excellent storytelling should do.
Animals meaning Gus and Clementine.
We aren't running a zoo here, I swear.
I flipped open to where I had left off in the mystery I've been reading, but I just wasn't in the whole "missing woman, murderer on the loose in a small town" mood.
So instead, I grabbed the Apple TV remote and navigated to the HBO Go app.
Does anyone else consider disturbing documentaries a guilty pleasure?
Disturbing, indeed.
I started the documentary, sipping my red wine thoughtfully, and waiting to be shocked or scandalized.
Except I felt neither of those emotions.
Instead, I found myself charmed, laughing, and even crying at some parts. The documentary wasn't really about sex. It was about love and relationships. Some of the couples left me sad and depressed, but most of them made me feel happy and hopeful.
This couple was AMAZING. |
In typical Jenna-drinking-wine fashion, I was not ready for bed yet.
Usually tucked into bed and quickly heading toward dreamland at 10pm, the moment you give me a glass of wine, I am suddenly a night owl with a severe case of FOMO.
What movie would I watch next?
Since Adam was busy doing freelance work, I chose a more female-centric film that I'd had my eye on for a while. Brooklyn.
via |
And let's just say there is the most swoon-worthy love story on top of some epic self-actualization on Ellis' part.
Anyways.
I highly recommend both movies if you happen to come across either.
They'll make you laugh, cry, and look at life in a new and exciting way.
Exactly what excellent storytelling should do.
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
A Tuesday Pun
"Look how pretty my apple looks beside my frame!" I marveled to my coworker, distracting us both from our current tasks. "Isn't it beautiful?"
She nodded thoughtfully, "Your apple beside the apple of your eye."
Obviously I wasted no time in texting that pun to Adam, pretending it was my own brilliant thought.
While he responded with a satisfying "Hahaha," he was probably just relieved to see that I was fitting in a piece of fruit after my Ina Garten brownie binge last night.
Making brownies is the best because you get to lick the bowl before they go into the oven and then enjoy little squares of chocolatey goodness after they're done baking.
They're the dessert that just keeps giving.
She nodded thoughtfully, "Your apple beside the apple of your eye."
Obviously I wasted no time in texting that pun to Adam, pretending it was my own brilliant thought.
While he responded with a satisfying "Hahaha," he was probably just relieved to see that I was fitting in a piece of fruit after my Ina Garten brownie binge last night.
Making brownies is the best because you get to lick the bowl before they go into the oven and then enjoy little squares of chocolatey goodness after they're done baking.
They're the dessert that just keeps giving.
Monday, August 15, 2016
Balloons & Storm Clouds
After work this evening, I popped into Kroger for a few items that would help pull off a special birthday surprise for one of my most favorite colleagues.
In addition to A LOT of butter and chocolate (I baked Ina Garten's Outrageous Brownies tonight—have you ever tried them? If not, please refer here), I purchased balloons to tie to my coworker's chair.
Balloons are problematic.
They're incredibly silly and fun, yet they're very frustrating to transport just about anywhere.
Oh my GOD, I thought, staring out the front windows of the grocery store as huge storm clouds gathered in the distance.
I put the pedal to the metal and rolled my shopping card outside like I was an Olympian competing in the 100 meter sprint.
Lightning streaked across the sky and thunder roared as I finally neared my little Corolla.
I threw my grocery bags into the backseat and then went to untie the balloons from the shopping cart's handle.
Except they wouldn't budge.
THE BALLOONS HAD KNOTTED UP!
Boom, boom! Lightning, lighting!
My stomach felt sick and tears actually welled up in my eyes (seriously) as panic set in. I could not untie those birthday balloons for the life of me, and now I was set to die in a Kroger parking lot via lightning strike.
Finally, I fished my car keys out of my pocket and sliced the strings free.
The plastic clips went flying, one landing beside a nearby car and setting off its alarm.
"GAH! You've got to be kidding me!" I actually shouted aloud (like a crazy person!) before stuffing the boppity balloons in the car and hopping in the front seat.
Thank goodness I made it inside my car when I did...it really poured!
I had to sit in my car for a bit once I arrived home. I took Snapchat photos of myself to remain entertained. I only stopped when a very athletic (and dedicated) runner jogged by, and I felt stupid.
I'm feeling very grateful to be in our cozy house tonight, with Ina brownies baking in the oven, our bedding tumbling about in the washer and dryer (meaning fresh sheets tonight, meaning the best thing ever), and no more balloons dancing in the wind.
Storms are better enjoyed from inside.
Just ask our wet golden retriever.
In addition to A LOT of butter and chocolate (I baked Ina Garten's Outrageous Brownies tonight—have you ever tried them? If not, please refer here), I purchased balloons to tie to my coworker's chair.
Balloons are problematic.
They're incredibly silly and fun, yet they're very frustrating to transport just about anywhere.
Oh my GOD, I thought, staring out the front windows of the grocery store as huge storm clouds gathered in the distance.
I put the pedal to the metal and rolled my shopping card outside like I was an Olympian competing in the 100 meter sprint.
Lightning streaked across the sky and thunder roared as I finally neared my little Corolla.
I threw my grocery bags into the backseat and then went to untie the balloons from the shopping cart's handle.
Except they wouldn't budge.
THE BALLOONS HAD KNOTTED UP!
Boom, boom! Lightning, lighting!
My stomach felt sick and tears actually welled up in my eyes (seriously) as panic set in. I could not untie those birthday balloons for the life of me, and now I was set to die in a Kroger parking lot via lightning strike.
Finally, I fished my car keys out of my pocket and sliced the strings free.
The plastic clips went flying, one landing beside a nearby car and setting off its alarm.
"GAH! You've got to be kidding me!" I actually shouted aloud (like a crazy person!) before stuffing the boppity balloons in the car and hopping in the front seat.
Thank goodness I made it inside my car when I did...it really poured!
I had to sit in my car for a bit once I arrived home. I took Snapchat photos of myself to remain entertained. I only stopped when a very athletic (and dedicated) runner jogged by, and I felt stupid.
I'm feeling very grateful to be in our cozy house tonight, with Ina brownies baking in the oven, our bedding tumbling about in the washer and dryer (meaning fresh sheets tonight, meaning the best thing ever), and no more balloons dancing in the wind.
Storms are better enjoyed from inside.
Just ask our wet golden retriever.
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
Lucky Number 9
My lucky number is 9, so it's no surprise that today was such a grand day.
At lunchtime, I walked over to the seamstress for another dress fitting. Karen of Sewendipity is an absolute magician. She's making me the loveliest dress in the world. It has all sorts of ribbons, tulle, and even a bow. And today when I went for my fitting, she actually needed to take the waist in a bit, which is always a reason to rejoice.
Since I'm apparently sooo skinny, I stopped by Lala's Blissful Bites on the way back to work and picked up a "Foxi Brown" cupcake. It was chocolate heaven.
After work, I popped into Anthropologie to return a bottle of perfume I had bought online. I bought it thinking I was ordering a set of mini bottles, but it turns out, I just ordered one big bottle.
Naturally, Anthro was still having their "25% Off Sale Items" promotion, and naturally, I spent three times as much as the returned perfume cost me.
But I don't even feel guilty (yet) because I snagged a super flattering dress, a versatile t-shirt, an AMAZING wrap/kimono/scarf thing, lotion, and perfume (...because of course I would pick up more perfume after returning perfume. MEH).
When I arrived home, I climbed into my most favorite place in the world (bed) with one of my most favorite dogs in the world (Clem).
We plan on watching HBO Go tonight and politely asking Adam if we can have our supper in here.
He isn't going to say yes, but you can't blame a gal for trying.
At lunchtime, I walked over to the seamstress for another dress fitting. Karen of Sewendipity is an absolute magician. She's making me the loveliest dress in the world. It has all sorts of ribbons, tulle, and even a bow. And today when I went for my fitting, she actually needed to take the waist in a bit, which is always a reason to rejoice.
This is the inspiration dress. Mine is pretty similar, but it features purples and a lot more sparkle! |
After work, I popped into Anthropologie to return a bottle of perfume I had bought online. I bought it thinking I was ordering a set of mini bottles, but it turns out, I just ordered one big bottle.
Naturally, Anthro was still having their "25% Off Sale Items" promotion, and naturally, I spent three times as much as the returned perfume cost me.
But I don't even feel guilty (yet) because I snagged a super flattering dress, a versatile t-shirt, an AMAZING wrap/kimono/scarf thing, lotion, and perfume (...because of course I would pick up more perfume after returning perfume. MEH).
When I arrived home, I climbed into my most favorite place in the world (bed) with one of my most favorite dogs in the world (Clem).
We plan on watching HBO Go tonight and politely asking Adam if we can have our supper in here.
He isn't going to say yes, but you can't blame a gal for trying.
Monday, August 8, 2016
Book of the Month Club Bliss
"Oh, a package!" I thought excitedly, as I strolled up our front porch steps after work. "Maybe it's my August Birchbox!"
It wasn't my Birchbox, though. It was my other monthly subscription and one of the most delightful services I've ever signed up for...
BOOK OF THE MONTH CLUB!!!
Last month, I read Missing, Presumed, which was a mystery book that took place in England. In addition to my hardback novel, BOTMC also included a tote bag, sunglasses, and crazy straw because they're just that neat.
My August book is called The Woman in Cabin 10, and it's written by Ruth Ware. I actually saw this novel quite a bit in the various airport bookshops during my recent trip to Austin. The cover art alone has me intrigued!
I call this my "wearing zero makeup, worked out, look rather underwhelming, so hide behind your book" pose |
Liberty Hardy described the novel as a "delightfully fun mystery," so my hopes are high for this one.
And guess what? THEY EVEN SENT A WINE KOOZIE!
I mean, how cute is that?
Cute enough to demand I wrap up my querying and editing for the evening to curl up with some red wine and a book instead? Yes, I believe it is that cute.
Off I go!
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