Sara Soda

Doo-Doo

2012-02-03T16:49:00.000-08:00

Shirt: Old Navy (refashioned), Scarf: Imagotuscia, Jeans: Kohl's, Shoes: Nine West, Watch: Nixon, Necklace: Vera Wang (refashioned)
The most awful thing happened during this little photo session.
Seriously, think of the most awful things you can imagine, and then multiply them by a thousand and you'll know what happened.
Yes. I stepped in freaking dog poo. Was that a bit of an overshare? Do most people share with the entire internets when they happen upon the same piece of land whereupon a dog has done its business?

Sara Soda. Where you find all your complaining-about-stepping-in-dog-doo-doo-needs.

Seriously though, if you look closely at the pictures, you'll see something of an unpleasant greenish-yellow color on my left toe.
And if you were wondering what my, "Ew, I just stepped in dog poo!" face looked like, here ya go:

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to scrub my leather boots with ammonia.

Middle Ground

2012-01-31T16:16:00.000-08:00

Shirt: Gap, Vest: Style & Co, Jeans: J.Crew refashioned, Shoes: Naturalizer, Necklace: Vera Wang refashioned
This shirt is a ST, or Small/Tall. In laymen's terms, that means that it has longer sleeves, lower arm holes, lower waistline, and a longer length.
In Gap, Inc. terms, it means that the shirt fits except for the sleeves, which would hang down to my knees if left unrestrained.
I kind of feel like "Tall" clothes are too tall for me, but "Regular" clothes are too short and make me feel as though I need to constantly be squatting.
I wish there was a "Taller Than Average But Not Quite Amazonian" size that I could browse through. Yeah... that sounds like the kind of place where I could shop like crazy. The sleeves would hit my wrists, the pants would hit the floor, and strangers would be forbidden from walking up and asking, "So how tall are you?"

That would be the life, man. That would be the life.

Lost in Translation

2012-01-30T22:41:00.000-08:00

Someone come and save me.

The end.

Sunburns and Stairs

2012-01-27T16:24:00.000-08:00

Pants: Gap, Shirt: Old Navy, Shoes: Nina NY, Watch: Nixon
Did you guys know that you can be sunburned from snow? The sun plays a part in that, of course, because it's selfish and can't let sunburns belong to any other element, but basically what happens is the sun hits the snow, gets reflected off of it, and then burns you. That's why you'll get raccoon eyes if you go skiing with goggles and don't wear sunscreen on your face.
I learned that lesson the hard way in eighth grade.
And it was a very embarrassing and red few days.

I wore these pants a while ago with some heels, and because they're so long, I cuffed them so as not to ruin the bottoms by dragging them along the ground. This all worked out fine until I was walking down some stairs and out of nowhere, I went to take a step down and the heel on my left shoe got caught in the turned-up bottom of my right pant leg. For a split second, I had that, "Oh no, I'm going to lose my balance, fall down these stairs and die," feeling where your heart beats a million miles a second and your breath comes fast even though you've done no physical exertion whatsoever. I'm still not sure how, but I managed to miraculously pull the heel out of the pant leg without falling flat on my face. There was definitely some wobbling and violent railing clutching that happened in the process, but then I continued walking down the stairs like nothing at all had happened.
And hopefully I managed to fool the throngs of students that were walking to and from their classes in the same vicinity.
Probably not, though.
But I can dream.
And avoid that set of stairs from now on.

Swear Bear

2012-01-25T21:41:00.000-08:00

Conversation between me and a girl in class today.

We're talking about one of the short stories we were assigned to read.
Girl: "There's a passage about the fat guy in his apartment that falls down... I can't remember what it is though, and I forgot my book, I was in such a hurry to get out of the house."
Me: "Oh, you can borrow mine! Here."
Girl: "Thanks." Flips through book... "Umm, did you buy your book used?"
Me: "Yeah. Why?"
Girl" Well, there are all these black marks that somebody put in it."
Me: "Oh, yeah, I did that."
Girl: "Why?"
Me: "I really don't like to read swearwords. So I just black them out."
Girl: Looks at me like I suddenly sprouted a second head that said it blacked out swear words in books as well. "Oh... okay."

My name is Sara, I have a sharpie, and I am not afraid to use it.

Also, that thumb that seems to be defying all notions of knuckles isn't a defect. It's called hitch hiker's thumb and it is a recessive gene.
This has been a public service message.
No it hasn't.
Unless you have read this and decided to stop making fun of people with recessive genes.
In which case, you're welcome, world.

Hiatus

2012-01-23T16:47:00.000-08:00

Wrap: Old Navy, Tank: Nordstrom, Pants: Diesel, Shoes: Miz Mooz

I am a walking contradiction sometimes. I hate being cold, but I also hate wearing coats. Because it's all nice when you're outside wearing a coat, but when you get inside a building you start to sweat and pant and you can't tear that thing off fast enough.
Well, I can't tear coats off fast enough.
So a lot of the time during winter, I just go without. And I curse and moan and whine and shiver all the way from building to building, but it's so nice not to heft a heavy wool or down coat around with me all day at school.
For the record, I always think this is a really good idea when I'm inside, and then I immediately regret my decision when I go outside.
It's all very confusing.
But once in a while, you find a piece of clothing that's warm, but not too warm. Heavy, but not too heavy. The perfect amount to keep you cozy outside and pleasantly warm inside. Maybe with an awesome aztec-y pattern. With just the right amount of extra fabric that you can wrap all around yourself when you're trucking it on a snow-covered path to your next class.
The stars align, and on that day, ladies and gentlemen, happiness ensues.

Take it from me.

Snow on Memory Lane

2012-01-18T12:16:00.000-08:00

This is what's outside my window right now. And it's not supposed to stop until Saturday. The picture doesn't show it, but behind my car (the white blob in the lower right-hand corner) are some tire tracks that abruptly stop because hey, apparently cars can't get out of driveways that are covered in three feet of snow in a town that doesn't plow its roads. Something about the third law of gravity, crashing and freezing to death, science, etc. I think it was Sir Isaac Newton that said, "Dear University of Idaho, close the school when students have no other option of transport than snowshoes."
And Isaac Newton said it, so you know it's legit.

So since the University would rather have me turn into a snowman than cancel classes today, I took a self-prescribed snow day. My homework is done, my house is clean, my tummy is full of hot chocolate, a bath is running, and earlier today I found these:
This is mom and her older sister forty-something years ago. Check.out.those.cheeks. I think they had their own gravitational field.

This is my parents on the day they got engaged.

Twenty nine years later and still happily married.

And I think my mom looks like Kate Middleton. Our ancestors DID come over on the Mayflower, so I'm sure that means we're related to the Duchess of Cambridge.

Brought to you by Sara's infallible logic.

Made In USA

2012-01-17T13:25:00.000-08:00

Shirt: Nordstrom, Skirt: homemade, Shoes: MIA, Bangles: Nordstrom
Guess what, everyone... I made this skirt! Yes siree, I am a bonafide seamstress.
Okay, I'm not bonafide, and I don't really know what bonafide means, but I did make this skirt myself. I saw this Bailey knit midi skirt on Nordstrom's website the other day and thought to myself, "Self, you could totally make that, and not spend $180!" (PS, is everyone else loving the midi skirt trend as much as I am? New favorite thing ever!) So I went to Joann's with my handy dandy 40% off coupon, bought some fabric, and a few days later (because I procrastinated), I had myself a skirt.
And a whole lot of pleased-with-myself.

So here's how I did it.
First, I measured out how long I wanted the skirt to be (mid-calf) and how wide I wanted it to be at the widest point (my hips). At this point, I cut it much wider than was necessary because I was erring on the safe side just in case something went horribly wrong. So I just cut two rectangles of fabric and sewed them together.

Then I put the skirt on and measured where I wanted it to taper in, and since I wanted a tube skirt, I pinned how far I wanted the skirt to go in, took the skirt off and then sewed where I had pinned. Yes, my sewing machine is from the 1960s.

For the top of the skirt, I went off of this tutorial from Elle Apparel. Because I wanted the top to fold over (like yoga pants), I cut two strips of fabric that were as long as my waist is wide and about six inches wide. That was a confusing sentence. So the strips were about 13 inches long and six inches wide, since I wanted the waistband to be about three inches when it was folded over.

I sewed the wide part of the bands (not the long parts, the short parts) together and made sure it was the same size as the skirt where it would cover my hips. (Appologies for the out-of-focus picture.)

I should mention that I did not hem the bottom of the skirt. The Baily skirt that was on the Nordstrom's website that I copied said in the details that it had a "raw-edge hem", which is what tipped me off that I would be able to duplicate it on my own in the first place. So this is what the raw-edge hem looks like on my skirt.

Then it came time to attach the waistband to the skirt, which was the most complicated part, but still not too bad. I pinned the raw edges of the waistband together.

Then I lined up the seams of the waistband with the seams of the skirt. I pinned it all together with the waistband on the inside of the skirt, since I wanted the seam to be on the outside of the skirt, but not showing since I would be folding the waistband over.

This was the most complicated part, like I said. So I sewed the raw edges together using a zig-zag stitch so there would be more forgiveness pulling it over my hips, since the fabric was jersey and very forgiving.

This is the inside of the skirt before I zig zagged the seams. I wanted the seam where the waistband and the skirt came together to be on the outside since the waistband will fold over on itself.

And that was basically it! I ironed all the seams in between sewing everything together and finished the inside seams off with a zig zag stitch to prevent fraying. (It's what we without serger machines do and it works just fine.)And now, I have a fantastic, comfortable skirt that I can wear out and about and then take long naps on the couch in, and I saved myself $180. If that's not a win-win situation, I really don't know what is.

Partly Cloudy

2012-01-14T14:20:00.000-08:00

Jacket-Necklace: Nordstrom, Tank: TJMaxx, Jeans: JCrew (refashioned), Shoes: Sam Edelman, Watch: Nixon
I was driving to school the other day with the radio on, and the Dj said, "It feels like it's 15 degrees outside, but it's really 24."
So I took off my coat, traded my boots for flip-flops, and changed into shorts. Because as long as I only feel like I'm getting frostbite, I guess I can wear whatever I want, right?
Wrong.
As far as I'm concerned, there should only be one temperature to gauge the weather by. And really, I'd be happy if the DJ said something like, "For the next two days it will be so cold that your ears will hurt when you walk outside and your nose will turn all red, but look out for normal ears and a flesh-colored nose on the weekend!"
At least that's how I'd report the weather.
I may have missed my calling in life.

School Is In Session

2012-01-12T11:38:00.000-08:00

Sweater: Wet Seal, Button-Up: Style & Co, Pants: Diesel, Shoes: Miz Mooz, Earrings: Style & Co.
Sup guys.
School started yesterday. I am now in the ultimate (not to be confused with penultimate) semester of my college career, unless I get smacked on the head with a 2X4 and get amnesia and forget how horrible school is and go back for my MFA.
Please, nobody smack me on the head with a 2X4.
Husband is also in his last semester of his school career, except he's in law school and apparently it's held in one of the seven layers of hell.
We're both ready to be done, in case you didn't catch my subtle subtleties.
The problem though, is that husband and I have way different school schedules, so when I'm home he's gone, when he's gone, I'm home, when he's in class, I'm sleeping, when I'm in class, he's working out, so... that's why these were taken via tri-pod in front of the table.
Also, it's negative a zillion degrees outside and it makes my eyes water and then my tears freeze on my cheeks. True story.
Since this might be the location of the next few posts here, here is an annotated picture so you can all get really comfortable with the dining area, and also so I can showcase my stellar decorating skills. (Ahem... not.)

Inspiration for today's outfit.

Pinterest Wants

2012-01-09T19:37:00.000-08:00

1. Trouvé Pleated Ballet Skirt 2. Free People Slouchy Velvet Blazer 3. Gap Skimmer Ballet Flats 4. Ralph Lauren RL 6079 Eyeglasses 5. Nine West Women's Ramone Platform Sandal 6. Harry Potter Snuggie 7. Bailey 44 Knit Midi Skirt 8. Topshop Cream Spot Midi Dress 9. ASOS Twist Front Ponti Pencil Skirt 10. ModCloth Love Ballad Top 11. Dr. Suess Grinch Stripe Footie Pajamas-Adult 12. Nine West Getem Pump
I know everyone posted their Christmas lists a while ago(like, before Christmas instead of after), but I've seen these lovely things on Pinterest lately.
Yeah, one of my wants is a Harry Potter Snuggie and another is adult Grinch footie pajamas.
No judging.

I've been putting away Christmas decorations today and invariably, whenever I clean one thing, I end up cleaning way more than I intended, which is why my spare room is in the midst of reorginization right now.
Don't ask me how that works.
I found a bunch of wedding cards from Mr's and my wedding a few years ago, and I was going through them and found some treasures.

-"I'm pretty excited there is a guy up to the challenge of Sara Soda." From my friend Dan. Thanks, Dan.
-Thank you card with "Thanks for marrying Bryan, it means a lot!" from Bryan's friends.
-The card that said, "Congratulations Brian and Sarah!" Hmm... managed to misspell both our names, and you're related to my husband. Impressive.
-The card that said, "May your love keep getting better, even if it takes a while." Good. Because I barely love him now and I want this to work! Depressing wedding cards. A whole untapped market.
-And my favorite, the wedding card with a CPA business card tucked inside. "For all your accounting needs." Weddings. They're such great occasions for advertising.
And love. But it's whatevs.

Wonky Tonk

2012-01-08T16:56:00.000-08:00

Dress: Talbots, Shoes: Steve Madden, Earrings: Claire's
I bought this dress a year and a half ago. Literally. Summer of 2010, this dress came home with me from the store. I tried it on and it fit so wonky, but I knew I could love it because I loved so many parts of it.
The pattern.
The style.
The retro feel.
The sleeves that I felt like could lift me off the ground if I flapped my arms hard enough.
So I bought it thinking, "Oh, I'll just alter this baby right up and she'll fit me like a glove."
Well.
I tried several times to alter it, but it just was not working. It was too big, but it didn't fit... right. So this poor dress sat in my closet for a year and a half while I worked up the gumption to tackle it again.
And last night I got just the right amount of bored and inspired, so I took to my scissors and sewing machine, and I figured out the problem with this dress.
Someone, and I'm not pointing fingers (mainly because I have no idea at whom I would point them) sewed a size 4 front onto a size 6 back. What! Who does that? So as soon as I had figured out what the problem was, I set about to matching the sides of the dress so they were the same size, and then I sewed it up and voila!
Now it fits.
And I got to it before the moths did, so point one for me.

Nerdy on a Friday Night

2012-01-06T19:04:00.000-08:00

Do you guys see why this is so rad?? Look closer...

See it now??

Lord of the Rings lives forever.
The end.

The Reason I'm Married

2012-01-04T16:19:00.000-08:00

Shirt: Gap, Cardigan: Target, Pants: Gap, Shoes: Steve Madden, Watch: Nixon, Necklace: Lucky
Do you guys like my braid with the rubber band from the newspaper around the end? This is what happens when you don't write "clear elastics" on your Wal-Mart shopping list.
You have been warned.

Husband and I met in Washington, D.C. Did you know that? We were both working on Capitol Hill for a semester. His roommate worked in my office, we lived in the same building, walked the same route to work, etc. We'd been introduced a few times, but the first time he really noticed me, and I mean, noticed me, was when I was waiting in the metro station one day, wearing slacks. I was standing with my back against the wall, so he saw me as he walked down the stairs to the loading deck where I was. And if you can believe it, my slacks, my brown slacks, are the reason he noticed me.
In fact, he told me today, "If it weren't for business pants, we wouldn't have gotten married."
So thanks, business pants. You saved my behind.
And made my husband notice it.

Secret Agent Man

2012-01-03T17:51:00.000-08:00

Shirt: Macy's, Blazer: Gap, Jeans: See Thru Soul (refashioned), Shoes: MIA, Sunnies: Smith, Watch: Nixon
Whew! My shirt is wriiiiinkly! Guess who hates ironing? This girl. Guess who would have ironed if she had know that the back of her shirt looked like a wet towel? Also this girl.

During the break from school, Bryan and I have been watching a lot of Netflix, trying to get our fill of entertainment in before the semester starts and we both begin to forget what the black screen in our living room is for.
So we started watching Burn Notice.
And now, I have a problem. A Burn Notice problem. And it's morphed into a little bit of an obsession. I didn't even like the show at first, but now I love it. And I secretly want to be a spy. So if you see me planting bugs on bad guys, or skulking around corners with a gun in my hand, or blowing up boats just to scare people into submission, please don't panic.
I'm just doin' my job. My spy job.
That I don't really have.
That I just want to fantasize about, because if Burn Notice has taught me anything, it's that spies are AWESOME.

You may all refer to me as Agent Sara from now on.

Happy New Year

2011-12-31T17:15:00.000-08:00

Shirt+Pants: Gap, Jacket: Sonoma, Shoes: Payless
Husband and I went to see the new Sherlock Holmes movie this afternoon. We go to matinees. They’re cheaper than evening shows, and hey, we like to save a buck. We’re basically counting down the days until we turn 55 and can use the official senior citizen’s discount at the theater.
The movie was pretty good, I have to say. But right before the climactic scene at the end, someone up in the projector room forgot to switch the reels or something and BAM. It just stopped. Blank screen, lights coming on, the whole works. ’Twas very disjointing. But the movie was good anyway. And the unexpected intermission was perfect timing for a bathroom break. (I ordered the large rootbeer.)

In other news, Happy New Year, internets! I hope your celebrations are safe, your resolutions are resolved, and that this new year brings you even more happiness than the last.
See you in 2012.

Sara Soda out.

Furry....Yet Again

2011-12-30T16:39:00.000-08:00

Dress: Old Navy, Vest: Style & Co., Shoes: MIA, Cuff: Precision, Earrings: Macy's
I sincerely hope you guys aren't getting sick of my furry vest yet. Because I still have two weeks left to wear the heck out of it before it goes into regular closeted rotation with the rest of my stuff. Same with my new booties. I love them. It's like learning to walk all over again, but dang it, I love them.

Today, my final Christmas present got here! Hubby surprised me and did the 12 Days of Christmas for me this year. He got me flowers, men's socks (so I'll stop stealing his), a YEAR's supply of mouth guards for when I sleep (for bruxism), Iowa sweats (he's a big Hawkeyes fan), and tons of other very thoughtful, very sweet gifts.
But my last gift got here today because it was backordered forever, and it's a new white iPhone 4s! I am in love with it. Hubby bought me a pink cover too, and my brother says it's my princess phone.

But honestly, being married to Bryan, I feel like one.
*cue "awwww"s.

Nerd Alert

2011-12-27T16:54:00.000-08:00

Blazer: Thrifted, Shirt: Macy's, Jeans: Seven for All Mankind, Boots: Miz Mooz, Locket: Nordstrom's, Glasses: Ralph Lauren
These are my glasses. I hardly ever wear them since my eyesight is so bad that I have no peripheral vision when I'm not wearing contacts. I think I've had these babies for five years. Definitely time for a glasses update.

Since you guys said so many lovely things about my blazer yesterday, I figured I'd feature it again today and come clean: I totally refashioned this blazer. Eee!
I bought it from a thrift store a few weeks ago when I was on the hunt for an ugly Christmas sweater. It's a Classiques brand so I knew it was well made. I just had unpick the lining, remove the shoulder pads, take in the sides and the back and the sleeves, chop off about six inches from the bottom (it was a loooong blazer), round the edges, chop off the pockets, resew the lining, and voila!
That makes it sound a lot easier than it actually was. In reality, I spent probably five or six good hours trying to get this thing to cooperate. Since it was so well constructed, it was difficult to put back together after I had made all the alterations. There is still some lining that I haven't sewn back together, but I figure I won't be wearing the blazer inside out anytime soon, so I'll leave it until I can muster the bravery to dive into this sewing project once more.
But the good news is that I can alter jackets! I always thought alterations needed to stick to shirts and sweaters, so it's nice to know that I can start expanding my altered wardrobe. Yay!

Do you have any alterations successes? I'd love to hear them!

Aftermath

2011-12-26T15:50:00.000-08:00

Jacket-Shirt: Thrifted, Jeans: Diesel, Shoes: MIA, Earrings: Claire's
Merry Christmas!
I know that sounds a little dated since it was a whole 24 hours ago, but I think we should keep wishing happy holidays until Valentine's Day is over. So happy holidays, everyone!

Bryan and I enjoyed a nice, quiet Christmas, just the two of us.
And our sore throats and coughs and runny noses.
So really, it ended up being a very full house. Bryan gave me these MIA peep-toed booties. And I almost fell and broke my neck within the first ten seconds of wearing them outside. It was all very precarious.
It's amazing how unbalancing an extra six inches can be.
How was everyone's Christmas??

Mission: Possible

2011-12-22T19:28:00.000-08:00

Tank-Cardigan-Locket: Nordstrom, Jeans: J. Crew, Shoes: Miz Mooz, Scarf: TJMaxx
Sewing is a big part of my wardrobe-ness. There is nothing that gives me a bigger rush than finding an expensive article of clothing on clearance, sized XL, and buying it knowing that I can make it fit me after a little work on my sewing machine.
(Sidenote: why is the L-XL section of clearance always ten times bigger than the size smalls? Not cool.)
That's what I did with this cardigan that I bought on black Friday. And I bought these jeans about two years ago, and they were kind of a bootcut with a little flare. They fit well, but I literally don't think I've ever worn them. So I found a tutorial on how to make your jeans skinny and applied it to these pants and voila! New skinny jeans that I'm in love with!
And that's how I'm spending my break. Finally getting to the sewing projects I've been putting off all semester.
It's awesome.
What's also awesome is date night going to see Christmas lights with the husband.

Three days til Christmas!!

Libary

2011-12-20T16:37:00.000-08:00

Shirt: Old Navy, Vest: Style & Co., Pants: Gap, Shoes: Nine West, Earrings: Claire's, Necklace: Lucky Brand
I know I wore this vest just the other day. But that's what happens when I get something new, I kind of wear the heck out of it for a few weeks and then it goes into regular outfit rotation. So I can't guarantee that this will be the last time you'll see this vest. I'm in love, I'm in love, and I don't care who knows it!

The hubby and I are doing a fantastic job at vegetating now that school is over. Pretty much days full of naps under the Christmas tree, copious amounts of treats, Modern Warfare, lots of watching Starship on the internet, pretty much anything but productivity. And that's the way (uh-huh, uh-huh) we like it.
We did venture outside once today. To pick up leisure reading books from the library, and to visit the redbox machine.
Tonight will feature Columbiana, Midnight in Paris, movie butter popcorn for him, and kettlecorn for me.
Dear Christmas break, I never did see anything so wonderful as you.
Love, Sara

Rows and Columns

2011-12-19T13:53:00.000-08:00

Shirt: Victoria's Secret, Skirt: Anne Klein, Boots: Nine West, Tights: Calvin Klein, Earrings: Style & Co., Bracelet: Vera Wang, Ring: Nordstrom's
This outfit was supposed to have a belt with it. And it wasn't until I got home and changed into sweatpants that I even realized I had forgotten to put one on! Grrr... I debated even posting these pictures because once I have an idea in my head of what I look like, it's hard to let that go and see that I looked differently than I thought. So, in light of my forgotten belt, here are a few I think would look fabulous with this ensemble.

Now as for that face I'm making in the last picture... let me just say, those columns were cold. Freezing, even! And I didn't know that, so when I leaned up against there, it shocked me to the core and I reacted, well, just like you see me reacting in that picture. And lucky for me, husband caught it on camera.
He is super on top of things.

Fashion Inspiration

2011-12-16T15:13:00.000-08:00

I didn't take pictures today, so here's some fashion inspiration straight from the JCPenny fashion show of 1987.

Aaaaaaand thank goodness I was born after the head-to-toe white-wash denim craze had run its course.
I can imagine sitting in the audience of this spectacle. "I'm much more likely to buy a denim jumpsuit now that I see how easy it is to dance badly in! Thanks, JCPenny!"

You're welcome.

Furry

2011-12-15T14:30:00.000-08:00

Sweater: Aeropostale, Vest: Style & Co., Jeans: Gap, Boots: Jessica Simpson, Cuff: Precision, Earrings: Style & Co.
It snowed last night. And this morning. And it's still snowing now. Can you see the little drifts of snowflakes in the pictures? And in my hair? Snow. And the most fantastic thing about this snow is that I don't have to go out in it. I can sit inside, sipping my hot chocolate piled high with marshmallows and know that the snow can't get me inside.
Ha. Snow-zero. Sara-one.
As much as I hate to admit it, I was sort of hoping there would be a little snow for Christmas. Hopefully the weather gets the message and stops before I'm in drifts up to my thighs like I was last year.

Can we talk about my furry vest for a second though? I am so in love with this article. I've been looking for a furry vest for-ev-er, so imagine my glee when I found this vest on clearance and an extra 30% off clearance at Macy's! There was much singing. There was much rejoicing.
And then there was much altering because it was a medium.

Happy snow day, everyone!

Pénultième

2011-12-14T19:31:00.000-08:00

Shirt: Thrifted, Vest: Maurice's, Pants: Gap, Scarf: TJMaxx, Boots: Nine West, Watch: Nixon, Earrings: Style & Co.
I am caught in the throes of finals right now, and quite frankly, it's not pretty.
I'm not sleeping, I'm not brushing my teeth til about noon every day, and I'm not cleaning anything.
I am eating, though. A lot. Like, a lot. All my fantastic friends are bringing yummy Christmas treats over, and the treats stare at me until I unwrap and eat all of them.
It's a little bit awesome.
In other news, Jenny and Jacqueline from The Sunshine District gave me a blog award!

They are just the sweetest. I read their blog pretty much every day and Jenny grows lemons and oranges in her backyard. You should all be jealous of her with me.
K, thanks.

So here's how this works:
Rules:
·link back to the blogger you got the award from
·fill in the question form below
·give the award to ten other bloggers

Question and Answer
Name your favorite song:
I rocked out to Kesha on my way home after taking my penultimate French final earlier today. She can't sing, but boy, her songs are catchy.

Name your favorite dessert:
Creme Brulee. Hands down. And if I knew how to type French accents on my computer, you would all be impressed... but I don't.

What pisses you off:
I'm actually pretty easy going. Just gotta let the good times roll, man. Now that you mention it though, incorrect grammar kind of gets my goat.

When you're upset, you:
Don't really get upset. But when I'm hormonal, I turn all green and huge and all my clothes rip off me except for my shorts, and I say things like, "SARA SMASH!" They're working on a diagnosis.

Your favorite pet:
Yeesh, pets... I like well-trained animals that stay away from me. And kittens.

Black or white:
Black. It's slimming, yo.

Your biggest fear:
I prefer to operate from faith rather than from fear. A concern I have though is aliens taking over the planet. H.G. Wells ruined me for life. Also sharks.

Best feature:
Husband says, "Bodalacious bod."

Everyday attitude:
Life's a garden. Dig it.

What is perfection:
I don't really know what this question is asking me here... so, naps? I never met a nap I didn't like.

Guilty pleasure:
Neighborly Christmas treats and That '70s Show. I watch reruns constantly.

7 Random things about me:
My toes are webbed. Yep. I think the story goes that my mom was rescued at sea by a merman and lived with his clan for a few years or something, and then I came along.

I am left-handed. A south paw. Most boxers do not want to fight me because I throw their timing off.

I can quote every line from every Lord of the Rings movie. Husband won't even watch them with me, because I say right with Sam, "A new day will come, and when the sun shines it'll shine out the clearer!"

I have one purse. One.

I really, really, really, really hate being cold. Would rather sweat than shiver any day.

I have a deep, abiding love for Orlando Bloom.

Claymation makes me want to barf. I won't watch anything in claymation.

I nominate:
TJ from Mr. Taylor and His Lady.
Ash from Ash Louise.
Alexandra from To Vogue or Bust
Kat from Kats Love Fashion
Audrey from Casual Glamorous
Krista from Lazy Saturdays
Madeline from Uber Chic for Cheap
Sara from You, Me, & Anthropologie
Elaine from Clothed Much.
Kristina from Kristina J.

Go forth and conquer, bloggers!

Not So Alone

2011-12-12T19:10:00.000-08:00

Hey guys.
I'm putting off studying. You're super surprised, I can tell.
One of my favorite not-studying websites to visit is thebestofyoutube.com. It compiles all the top-rated videos on youtube for your viewing pleasure, and today, I saw this:

It's a little long, but if you have the 12 minutes, I think it's worth watching.

Hairy and Harry

2011-12-11T16:50:00.001-08:00

Dress: Nordstrom's, Tights: Calvin Klein, Shoes: BCBG, Necklace: Kohl's, Ring: Maurice's, Earrings: Style & Co.
I love tights. Especially on a Sunday morning, when you wake up at 8:20 and church is at 9, and you haven't shaved your legs in two weeks and aren't going to because your shower can't last more than five minutes or you'll be late...
I feel like that was an overshare. But I'm just keepin' it real.

It's finals week. And even though come Wednesday, I will have taken my last final of the semester and (hopefully) finished my last paper for the semester, I've already started planning what I'm going to do with the three weeks of uninterrupted-by-homework time I'll have. Here's what is on the docket so far:

1-sewing marathon. I have so many new clothes that I haven't worn because I haven't had time to alter them to fit me. My wardrobe will double in size once I can actually have time to sit at my machine for a few hours. Yay!
2-Harry Potter marathon. Harry Potter 7:1 & 2 are in redbox right now. Six hours on my couch watching Harry defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? I think I shall!
3-Naps. Oh, days and days of naps.
4-Finding decorations for our poor, undecorated tree. It's just sitting in our living room, all naked.
5-Cleaning the house. I can't believe how excited I am to have time to clean my house. I feel like that's a little bit pathetic, but I haven't dusted in longer than I'm going to admit and my cabinets are overflowing with unorganized food storage. Look out, cans of creamed corn... I am coming for you, and you will be stacked properly.

I can't wait!

Broken Pants

2011-12-09T18:42:00.001-08:00

Sweater: Thrifted, Shirt: Kohl's, Jeans: Gap, Belt: Husband's, Shoes: Nordstrom's, Bangles: Nordstrom's, Earrings: Semi-Precious
I wore my husband's belt today. It's a size 36. And it did nothing whatsoever to help me hold my pants up.
But it was thick and leathery and cute, and accessories are not always necessities.
You can quote me on that.

About two hours ago, Bryan and I were rushing out the door to make it to the post office before 5:00. See, we have brothers about the same age that are both serving LDS missions right now, one in Minneapolis, one in Bulgaria. We don't get to talk to them on the phone or go see them for two years, and this is both of their first Christmases away from home. So we put together some care packages of candy and treats and cookies and gingerbread men (made by yours truly!).
And a pen. Apparently you can't get Zebra pens in Bulgaria. Or Swedish fish.
So I was in the office printing out letters to put in their Christmas packages, and as I was running back to the living room, the belt loop on my right hip got caught on the door latch... and tore completely off.
What can I say, I was actually running pretty fast.
This happens to me a lot. I am just the perfect height for my belt loops to get caught on door latches. It happens to me at least a few times a week. Usually I'm not running though, so my belt loop stays connected to my trousers, and I am just stopped in my tracks until I unhook myself.

Not today, though.

Let this be a lesson to ya'll. Don't cut corners. Yuk-a-yuk-a-yuk.

I'll be here all night.

Inspiration for today's office came from Karla's Closet. She has a fantastic pixie cut, is gorgeous, and wears fantastic shoes. Click here to see what I copy-catted.

Le Nez

2011-12-07T14:22:00.001-08:00

Jacket: Nordstrom's, Sweater: Wet Seal, Jeans: Gap, Shoes: Steve Madden, Necklace: Target, Earrings: Claire's, Ring: Maurice's
I'm not such a fan of up-close shots like that picture you see of my face up there. Usually when Bryan gets the camera that close to me, I freak out and threaten to pull out my pepper spray.
But I thought I'd tell a story today about the birthmark you see on my nose. See it? That red mark on the side of my nostril? (Nostril is a weird word.)
I was born with that red mark on the side of my nose. And when I say red, I mean r-e-d. It used to be so dark and vivid, kids in school would tell me I had ketchup on my nose. That didn't happen just once. It happened pretty much every day, usually a well-meaning older kid in the cafeteria at school would pull me aside after lunch and tell me, and I'd have to say, "Um... it's a birth mark."
I don't think I ever acknowledged that I had issues with my birth mark, but I really did. So even though it got a lot lighter as I got bigger, when I started wearing make-up, about 90% of my concealer was used for the side of my nose so I could cover up the red mark that I thought every body was staring at and thinking "She can't keep the ketchup/pizza sauce/strawberry puree away from her face."
And that's how it was for a long time. From about age 15 onward.
And then this summer, one day I grabbed my concealer and prepared to put the customary nose covering on and thought, Why am I doing this?
And just like that, I stopped. And I haven't covered it up since.
And you know what? I really like my birth mark now. It makes me different. It makes me unique. It's just one of the many aspects that makes me me.

And I like that.

Ch-Ch-Check It

2011-12-06T19:36:00.001-08:00

Just wanted to let you all know that Gap is doing a 40% off entire purchase promotion right now! They have the Farrah pants that I'm wearing here. Snag them here!
And the cardigan I'm wearing here!
What I'm coveting at the moment:

Seamed trouser true straight pants, 40% off of $49.99. I love classic pieces like this, straight-cut pants flatter every body shape and they are always in style.

Striped three-quarter sleeve sweater for 40% off of $45.95. I think I'd go monochromatic with this top and pair it with black jeans and black boots. So lovely! And can we talk about that model's adorable hair? She makes me want to get a pixie cut! Don't tell my husband...

Pin-tucked half-sleeve top for 40% off of $54.95. Isn't this top so lovely and feminine? I think it would be fabulous with a structured jacket over the top, skinny jeans, and peep-toed booties. And this is the perfect top for transitioning from cold to hot weather and back again!

Go take a look at their sales, and tell me about your fabulous finds!

*Use code GAPSNOW for the 40% off, and it's free shipping on orders over $50! Go forth and conquer!

Funny Faces and a Redbox Experience

2011-12-06T19:11:00.001-08:00

It's dead week at the university.

And I really don't know why they call it that, because it is anything but "dead," unless you count me working myself to death trying to figure out French articles and when to use subjunctive and writing nine million papers. (<--exaggeration)
So since I'm on my couch in sweats with greasy hair and no make-up on, here's some pictures that my little brother took with my computer when my family was visiting for a few days.

Seriously, this kid. Cracks me up more than he knows.

While my family was here for the holiday, we rented Cars 2 from a redbox the day before they left. So the next morning, we pulled up to the Walgreens where the redbox is and my dad, who had not ever returned a redbox DVD, tried to return Cars 2 while my mom, brothers, and I sat in the car watching.

It was funny.
And my dad will be paying much closer to the arrows on the DVD cases from now on.

Bringin' the Bacon

2011-12-04T16:39:00.001-08:00

Sweater: Old Navy, Skirt: Dillard's, Shoes: Naturalizer, Belt: Thrifted, Cuff: Precision, Necklace: Nordstrom's, Earrings: Style & Co
Wow. I have a lot of hair. It looks like it's taking over my entire torso! It is time for a trim/thinning and that is all there is to it.

My go-to fast food place is Wendy's. Lovely Wendy's. And I've been going there a lot, what with the semester winding down and my professor's instance that I, ya know, take finals.
I remember when I was in high school and they built a new Wendy's in my home town. It was one of the greatest days of my life. I mean, a Junior Bacon Cheeseburger for 99 cents?? Hello, lunch every day for the rest of my life!
But somewhere along the road, Wendy's changed.
Their huge JBC's slowly shrunk to the size of a nickel. And while their food was shrinking, their price was raising, and I paid $1.79 for a Junior Bacon Cheeseburger yesterday that I could almost enclose in my fist.

It was delicious.
And I ate it in three bites.

You Sneaky Husband

2011-12-01T12:37:00.001-08:00

Button Up: Style & Co., Tank: Nordstrom's, Pants: Diesel, Scarf: TJMaxx, Boots: Macy's, Necklace: Vera Wang, Ring: Nordstrom's
I played hookey today. Can someone please tell me where that term comes from? I don't see how "hookey" and "ignored my obligations, like class, and stayed home on my couch" came to mean the same thing.
Luckily though, I was able to do super important things with all the extra time I had today. For example, I deleted all those pesky blog drafts that have been cluttering up my home page. Whew! My life is a lot less complicated now.
While I was deleting those unpublished thoughts, I came across a post Bryan tried to sneak past me a few years ago. He thought it would be really funny to log onto my account, pretend to be me, and defame my good name by saying I loved a lot of things that I most definitely do not love. Good thing he is not very sneaky. Here's what he had to say:

Right now I am thinking of a few things that I love. And I wanted to share them with all of my blogger friends.
I love Aaron Neville. He is such a good singer, and I love the way he breathes when he sings.
I love my husband’s old shirts that he has been wearing for eight years or something now. The tatters really give them character. I secretly love it when he pulls them out of the trash after I throw them away, and then wears them.
I love when Bryan chases me down and gives me a big sweat-covered hug after his runs.
I fall in love with Bryan every time we are on a road trip and he takes a picture of me sleeping with my mouth hanging wide open. I am so glad he is kind enough to then send them to my family and friends. What a man!
I think dish drainers are the most practical, and beautiful kitchen accessories of all time.
I love Idaho! And the weather!
I love forcing my husband to eat fruits and vegetables every day of his freaking life. It doesn’t matter how delicious of a dinner I cook- I am always happy to ruin it with disgusting apples and spinach.
Have a bloggerific day!

Nice try, sweetums. Love you!

Au Natural

2011-11-30T16:43:00.001-08:00

Jacket: Nordstrom's, Shirt: Nordstrom's, Necklace: Nordstrom's, Bangles: Nordstrom's, Jeans: Gap, Boots: Nine West, Bag: GiftWell kids, this is it.
This is my hair in all its natural, frizzy, curly, unmanageable glory.
It's pretty calm today, actually. Usually after I shower and sleep with it wet, I wake up feeling like my hairs are declaring mutiny and trying to take over the rest of my face. It's a war zone. But I have the ultimate weapons: a straightener and anti-frizz cream. And I always win.
Today though, my crazy curls were actually pretty easy going.

I wasn't born with curly hair, ya know. Webbed toes and a birthmark on the side of my nose, yes, but not curls. No, my curls manifested themselves when I was a teenager and my hormones started to rage. But I have heard that sometimes when curls appear at puberty, they similarly disappear after pregnancy.

'Scuze me while I go ask my husband how babies are made.

Farrah Fawcett Called

2011-11-28T16:46:00.001-08:00

Sweater: Wet Seal, Jeans: Gap, Shoes: Steve Madden, Necklace: Kohl's, Bangles: Nordstrom's, Belt: Thrifted
And I'm pretty sure she wants her pants back.
But she can't have them, because if ever there has been a time when I have loved jeans, this is it.

My family went back to Utah today. *sad face* I sure loved seeing them. I even wrestled my 15-year-old brother. Somehow, when I'm around my younger siblings, I revert to my twelve-year-old state of being.

And I thought I'd let you know that I'm starting my own Occupy movement today. It's called Occupy My Couch And Laptop Until My Homework Is Done Or I Die Of Boredom.
I'll let you know which comes first.

Happy Thanksgiving, Pilgrims

2011-11-24T18:20:00.001-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving!!
I love this holiday. Gratitude, food, and family. That's about the trifecta of happy things for me. If we could go shopping on Thanksgiving Day, my brain would explode from all the enjoyment.
We did things a little differently this year for the big feast. My uncle decided that his life would not be complete until he roasted a pig.
Yeah. Roasted. A. Pig.
Here. Take a look-see.

My dad, my uncle, and their pig roasting pit. Oh, and the dead/butterflied pig splayed out behind them. *yuck*

Greg the neighbor, and Greg the neighbor's son proudly carrying the roasted pig up to the house. *yuck*

The pig. In all its porkified glory, on the kitchen table, looking me in the eye and saying, "Why, Sara? Why did you let them roast me??" Sorry, Wilbur. My job was the pies, not the meat.
And that's my mom, my hubby, and another son of Greg the neighbor. I think my mom thought Greg the neighbor's son was pretty funny.

Here's what I'm grateful for:
A husband who comes and rubs my shoulders while I wait for pictures to upload.
A husband who laughs when he asks me, "What time do you want to wake up?" and I respond, "Your mom."
A husband who works harder than literally any person I have ever met.
Pretty much my husband in general.
My family.
The ability to live in this country.
My religion.
My health.
My friends.
My education.

It's a much longer list, but I'll end things there and let you all get back to your baggy sweaters and jeggings. Everyone else is wearing baggy sweaters and jeggings today, right?
Now, go forth and stretch your stomachs out with pie!

Happy Thanksgiving.

And The Blustery Day

2011-11-23T16:39:00.001-08:00

Sweater: Nordstrom's, Jeggings: Gap, Shirt: Shade, Boots: Jessica Simpson, Cuff: Precision, Necklace: Style & Co.
Wow. Today was a rough picture day. I know you can't tell, but the wind was blowing hither and thither like you would not believe. So there was only one picture where I was not desperately brushing my hair out of my face. Crimeny. And we're even in the inland Northwest, where it's hardly ever windy. What gives?
Remember that part on Pocahontas where she stands up in the waterfall?

When I was little, I saw that movie and thought having long hair blowing in the wind was going to be super glamorous.

It's not.

C is for Cafe Rio

2011-11-21T17:50:00.001-08:00

Tank: Old Navy, Cardigan: Thrifted, Pants: Diesel, Scarf: TJMaxx, Booties: Miz Mooz, Earrings: Semi-Precious, Bracelet: Vera Wang
Bryan and I went to Cafe Rio today. I ordered a grilled chicken salad with a whole wheat tortilla, and then I died from bliss. Have you ever eaten at Cafe Rio? It'll change your life. Bryan wanted to share a meal at first, but I told him he was to keep his mits off my salad, so he ordered a pork burrito. One of the waitresses came up to me when I was about halfway done with my salad, and asked me if I wanted a take-home container. And I looked at her and said, "Nope. I'm going to finish this whole thing right here." And then I did.
Some people just don't understand how much I can eat.
I remember when I worked on Capitol Hill for a semester, one of the other interns and I went to the cafeteria under the Capitol building one morning and I bought two donuts... and then ate them before we even got back to the Cannon building.
Yeah. I love food.

Sunday Night Song

2011-11-20T19:57:00.000-08:00

My favorite song for today:

Twirly Swirly

2011-11-20T13:48:00.001-08:00

\
Dress: Nordstrom's, Shoes: Steve Madden, Necklace: Kohl's, Bracelet: Tiffany's
Remember how I told you I was really obsessed with pleats? Well, this is my favorite dress right now. And look how twirly it is! I can twiiiiiirl. Favorite thing ever.
Bryan and I spent about twelve hours in the car yesterday. He woke me up at 5am and I stumbled to the car and slept while he drove. It's pretty much how our road trips always go. Me sleeping in the passenger's seat while Bryan drives. It gives him a lot of time for reflecting on his life.
Someday when he discovers the secret to living, it'll be thanks to my inability to wake up.

Oh, and those are mountains in the background. Mountains!.
They make me happy.

The First: Part 1

2011-11-18T02:25:00.001-08:00

Dudes... dudettes...

It's 2am. 2:25, actually. I just got back from this:
Midnight showing. Heck yes.

And I have two things to say.
1. I am tired.
2. That movie was AWESOME. (I think it was awesome because it had an 11% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes last I looked, so I went in with low expectations. Thus: awesomeness ensued.)
3. Dear first snow of the season:

Bite me.

Good night.

Miss New Bootie

2011-11-15T17:17:00.001-08:00

Shirt: Old Navy, Wrap: Gap, Jeans: Gap, Socks: Stolen from Husby Wusby, Shoes: Miz Mooz, Bracelet: Precision, Earrings: Macy's
I've been wanting some furry booties for a while. So imagine my utter glee when I saw these on sale while I was shopping with my friends over the weekend! It was pure bliss. I've seen so many girls make adorable outfits with booties and socks, so I decided to try it. And I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this particular look, but I am digging the shoes for sure.
It's getting dark here at around noon. No exaggeration. (Okay, a littleexaggeration.) This makes taking pictures a little difficult, especially when the husband and I don't get done with our daily crap until after sunset. Thank goodness for flash mode, am I right?
Course I am.

This is the first time in a long time that I've straightened my hair, and I'm surprised at how long it got. Long enough that it gets caught in the car door when I shut it, and subsequently gets ripped out of my scalp when I turn my head.

Might be time for a haircut.

Posh

2011-11-14T23:44:00.000-08:00

First: VICTORIA BECKHAM, Silk-blend double-crepe dress; Second: VICTORIA BECKHAM, 100 silk and wool-blend double-crepe dress; Third: ANTONIO BERARDI, Zip-detailed wool-crepe dress
Dear Victoria Beckham,
Can we be friends with benefits? And by friends with benefits, I mean, can you be my friend and let me "sample" all of your dresses, please? I think you and Antonio Berardi might be two of the only people in the world who create gorgeous dresses that I don't have to squat in.
Sincerely,

Sara Soda

Copy Cat

2011-11-13T13:03:00.000-08:00

This lovely outfit has been floating around Pinterest for a while.

Isn't she lovely? I don't know who she is, but she has got some fantastic style and gorgeous hair. And that bag? Fuggetaboudit.
The more I looked at this picture, the more I thought, "Hey... I could do that!" Not the hair and the bag thing, or the Ikea thing, but the outfit, for sure. I have black leggings. I have a blue cropped 3/4 jacket. I have a long white shirt and gold bangles. I have black heels! Woot! Here's my version.
*Note* Keep in mind that the wind is blowing 200mph outside and I'm not going to leave my house until I run out of graham crackers and frosting. So these pictures were taken inside, in horrible lighting. Thank you for your consideration.

Jacket: Jones NY, Shirt: Shade, Pants: Elle, Bangles: Vera Wang, Shoes: BCBG
Overall, I think it turned out pretty well! I know one of the old fashion "rules" is that you're not supposed to pair blue and black together, but here's what Stacy and Clinton have to say about that: "When you're wearing navy with black, you should try to play up the differences in tone. Wearing a white shirt under a navy blazer with a black skirt will help delineate the hues, making your outfit look intentional instead of accidental."
Yep! Ikea girl nailed it.

Saturday Night Revelation

2011-11-12T21:04:00.001-08:00

Guys: I just had a serious revelation. Like, serious.

I am busy putting off homework tonight (Le Francais, je te déteste!) so of course, I'm on pinterest. Do you use pinterest? If not, get crackin, lazy pants. It'll change your life.
Honestly, this little website has opened me up to so many things out there on the internets that I didn't even know existed. It's been fantastic, scary, and a glorious procrastinating tool. Glorious.

Tonight, I found this blog: Can You Stay For Dinner? Actually, I found a specific set of posts. Three posts. Labeled "My Exercise History." And you better believe that at 9pm I took the time to read every one of them. Even though I'm tired. (We marrieds... we get tired much earlier than those singles.)

And I kind of feel like my life has changed.

So this girl (I don't even know her name, because all I read were those three posts) went from 268 pounds to 135. Basically by exercising every day, and a lot every day. And then when she hit 135, she kept exercising a lot. Jogging, to be precise.
But from what I understand, she was miserable. Working too much, pounding her body too much, and it all got to be overwhelming. So one day, she decided to be at peace with herself. At peace being moderate instead of miserable being excessive. So she doesn't run anymore because she hates it. She walks now, and she loves it. She walks to work, walks home, walks to get coffee, walks with her boyfriend (or fiance or husband... like I said, all I read were the three posts). And that's enough. She doesn't gain weight, and she's completely content in her regimen.

And you know what? I hate exercise. I hate it. Every time someone tells me they love to exercise, I want to throw a piece of cake at them and scream, "Liar!! No one could ever love exercise! It's miserable!"
I'm pretty blessed though. I have great European genes that give me height, broad shoulders, and an incredibly fast metabolism. (And gigantic canoes for feet, but let's not get into that.) I used to dream about the day when I could gain a little weight and not look like a toothpick. And even now, I don't gain weight, no matter what I do and what I don't do.

What I do right now though, is Insanity two or three times a week. And I have to trick myself, tell myself, "Oh, you're just putting on your exercise clothes, you don't have to do any exercise if you don't want. Oh, you're just putting the DVD in, you don't have to watch it if you don't want. Oh, now it's on, guess you better just get it over with!"
And I kind of hate it. It hurts. I have tendonitis in both of my wrists right now and pulled a muscle in my shin the other day that's making it hard to walk now. It hurts and I don't love it enough to push through.

But you know what I do love? I love, love, love, LOVE to play tennis. I love it. I love tennis more than shopping. I know, right? I love tennis more than eating. I love tennis more than I love having an even tan.
Proof:
Back from the high school days, when I was playing tennis every day.

I love that sport. I started playing the summer between eighth and ninth grade when I didn't make the cheerleading squad and my friend Mandy told me I should start going to tennis with her instead.
Mandy, you gave me an incredible gift that day. Tennis is the only sport that I've ever loved. I rode horses all growing up, competing in equestrian shows, but it wasn't ever love. I played soccer in elementary school and was on an undefeated (no thanks to me) basketball team in seventh and eighth grade, and I hated it. I hated practice. I hated the poster. I hated the team that I never felt like I was a part of.
But when tennis came along, I felt free. I felt powerful and graceful and beautiful for the first time I can remember. I know that when I'm on a court with a racquet in my hand, I'm unstoppable if I want to be, and I've never felt that way with anything else.

So today, I'm setting myself free. No more Insanity, unless I truly want to engage in it. No more going to the gym and sweating it out on an elliptical for two hours. No more.

And I'm going to play tennis again. As much as I can and as often, not because I feel like I have to in order to be skinny and toned, but because I truly love it.

Because exercise shouldn't be something that makes you miserable. I am not giving over any more of my time to something I don't love.

I think I'll break out my racquets on Monday. It will be a sweet, sweet runion.

Pretty Please Pleats

2011-11-12T00:21:00.001-08:00

I just got back from shopping. This is more complicated than it sounds.
Mostly because where I live, the closest actually shopping, as in s-h-o-p-p-i-n-g is about two hours away.
Commence pitying.
But it was also more complicated because on the way home, we 1) took a wrong turn and 2) ran into a white-out snow storm. So it took a little longer than expected. And we got home a little late. But it was a whole lot of fun. Friends, food, shopping. Pretty much a fantastic afternoon.
I didn't get a picture of today's outfit, so instead, I'll show ya'll one of my latest fashion obsessions: pleates, featuring the lovely site of us.asos.com.

This is the first pleated dress that caught my fancy. (Thank you, Pinterest.) Isn't it beautiful?? I love the orange palette, the defined waist, and the way the skirt floats away from the body. Also, I love this model's ankles. Experiencing ankle jealousy over here. And one of the fantastic things about this site is that it lists the model's height and sizes so you can judge based on her whether the piece will fit you! Usually I am concerned about the height of the model, and whether the dress she's wearing will hit me at the knees like she shows, or mid-thigh on my gams, and whether the waist of the dress will hit me at my true waist, or at my ribcage. But this model is 5'10 and a size 4, so I know the dress will hit me in roughly the same spots! No more guess work.

Then we have this red number. I love the tea-length of this skirt. It's so classy and classic but casual at the same time. And probably comfortable! I'm all about the "c" adjectives today. I think I'd pair it with nude pumps and a crocheted cardigan. So pretty!

I love this dress. It also comes in pale pink, but I think the teal is so pretty and vibrant. I can see this with a statement bib necklace and some silver accent jewelry. Love!

So head on over to ASOS and check out their amazing deals and get inspired! And then let me come raid your closet.
Thanks.

Bagel Breath and Streans

2011-11-10T18:07:00.001-08:00

Pants: Gap, Sweater: Gap, Shirt: Shade, Scarf: TJMaxx, Boots: Nine West, Watch: Nixon, Earrings: Nordstroms

Right before Bryan took these pictures, I was busy eating breakfast. Then he said, "Picture time, bagel breath!" and we jumped out of the car, me with half a bagel clenched in between my teeth. So I shoved the rest of the bagel in my mouth, and that's why I am not smiling with my teeth in any of these pictures.
I'm so glad I could share that with you.

Oh, and these pants are actually jeggings. When I told Bryan that jeggings are a cross between jeans and leggings, he decided to come up with another mash-up name for them. Streans. Stretchy jeans.
Oh, I love that man.

All Tied Up

2011-11-09T10:56:00.000-08:00

Shirt: Gap, Pants: Elle, Boots: Jessica Simpson, Socks: Husband's, Cuff: Precision, Earrings: Macy's
I went shopping in Pennsylvania while Bryan and I were there last week. We were an hour and a half away from the second biggest mall in the United States, but I didn't know that, so I found some rinky dink malls in a place called Reading, pronounced "Redding." But there was a Gap, and I have a love affair with Gap, so I was okay. And I found this shirt! I think it was $8.97 on clearance and they were doing a 40% off entire purchase promotion, so it ended up being probably less than $5. (I'm bad at math but super good at shopping.) It is an XL, and so I was planning on taking it in to fit me, but this morning, I was in a huge hurry and the time to sew is just not in my near future. So I tied a knot, pretended the "boho" look was what I was going for, and went about my business.

That business includes:
getting my traffic ticket plead down to a bon forfeiture (sp?) so my driving record won't have any points on it. It's only $30 than my ticket and will save me hundreds on insurance! Hooray for lawyers.
BUNKO NIGHT. Bryan says it's like gambling because we play for prizes, but I say it's just healthy competition.
Mounds of homework and writing fifteen hundred papers in French. Je ne veux pas faire cela. Pas de tout.

A demain, mes petits chaufleurs!

Guilty

2011-11-07T18:13:00.000-08:00

So, this post isn't really about anything.
Unless you count my whims as something. In which case, this post is about EVERYTHING.
Today, I am featuring the men I prefer without hair. It's a very short list. Bryan has a full head of curly locks, and when he goes to get it cut, the lady always says, "Why are you cutting such beautiful coils?" (All beauticians speak like New Yorkers.) And boy, do I love his hair. If you haven't run your fingers atop the head of a man with curly hair, you are missing one of the finer things in life. I definitely love hair.
But once in a great while, so far, about once in two billion people, I see men that I think look better bald. Or shaved. Or waxed, if you can even do that to the top of your head, which would probably cause a lot of pain and anguish.
So this is my guilty pleasures post. The men I prefer without hair.

Let's start with The Rock. Technically we're supposed to call him Dwayne Johnson now, but he'll always be The Rock to me. I could do without the tattoos, but look at that head! I want to lather it with shaving cream.

I don't think you could talk about men that look better bald without talking about Vin Diesel. I googled "vin diesel hair" just to see what would happen, and my Mac said, "Nope. Don't go there." So I didn't. (Yes I did. And he looked funny.)

And finally, Timothy Olyphant. He gets on this list because his name is a mythical mammal in the Lord of the Rings series, and also because his looks better without hair. So much better, in fact, that when I saw him in Hitman, I was like, "Daaaang!" And then when I saw I am Number Four and those few episodes of The Office where he plays Danny Cordray, I didn't even recognize him, and was like, "Bored! Next."

The end of my ramblings. (But just for tonight.)

Hair Port

2011-11-06T19:44:00.000-08:00

Shirt: Gap, Wrap: Gap (rhyme!), Pants: Diesel, Shoes: Macy's, Cuff: Precision, Earrings: Semi-Precious
Clarification 1: airport lighting is not kind to anyone's face.
Clarification 2: I have been traveling all day and am exhausted. All day. As in 7am Eastern until now, 8pm Mountain. That's a long flipping time.
Clarification 3: it wasn't supposed to be a long flipping time.

Here's what happened.
Husband and I flew to JFK in New York City on Thursday, stayed that night in New Jersey, and drove to Pennsylvania the next day for his classes. He taught Friday and Saturday, and then we stayed in Jersey Saturday night, and then hopped in the car to fly out of JFK this morning.
Sounds super easy, right? Here is what we did not foresee:

See the date? November 6th? That's today. The New York City Marathon was this morning. And they closed the Brooklyn Bridge, which was the only way our GPS knew as far as getting to JFK. There were cops directing traffic everywhere, so we rolled down our windows and asked one of them, "How do we get to the airport?" And he said, "Go through Joisey, Brooklyn, and into Manhattan."
Because, ya know, New York is super easy to navigate, and everyone knows how to get from Jersey to Brooklyn to Manhattan, right?
WRONG, cop. WRONG.
I think we ended up paying $50 in tolls this morning. It's expensive to go through tunnels.
Long story short, we missed our flight this morning due to closures and detours and my inability to read a map, and had to fly standby on the next available plane, which left us at JFK for four hours. Then in the air for five hours, and now we're at SLC (which has harsh lighting) for another three hours, and then another two-hour flight.

I think we'll eventually get home sometime in the year 2012. *zonk*

Hold Cans

2011-11-02T17:10:00.000-07:00

Sweater: Old Navy, Jeggings: Kohl's, Shoes: Nine West, Earrings: Macy's, Ring: Maurice's
Can you tell that I'm wearing fancy you-can't-see-them-but-I'm-wearing-socks socks? Ha! I'm so tricky. But seriously, these shoes give me blisters if I don't.

It's the time of the year when my hands are always as cold as if I'd taken them off my wrists stuck them in the freezer for a few hours.
That was a really gross way to describe that. But I'm a creative writing major. Our job is to make people uncomfortable!
No it's not.
But anyway, my hands. They're cold. All the time. No matter what I do. And the only cure for cold hands is a man's back. Specifically, my man's back. But my man's back is not the cure for your hands, so step off, ladies.
Seriously though, can we talk about how warm husbands are? Bryan is my own personal space heater. No matter how cold it gets, his skin is warm. And sometimes when he hugs me, I can sneak my freezing hands up to his back for about a microsecond before he jumps in the air and screams and looks at me like I just ate the last piece of pizza.
My similes are really strange today.
But last night was movie night, and Bryan let me put my freezing hands on his warm and cozy back until they had reached a temperature that would no longer alarm medical personnel.
I think it's because of the killer taquitos I made for dinner. Or maybe it's because we were watching Fast Five and he was sufficiently distracted. Either way, it made for some happy hands. And if you don't have a warm back in your life, for the love of all things toasty warm, go getchee one.

Sunday Funday

2011-10-31T15:47:00.000-07:00

Shirt: Victoria's Secret, Skirt: J. Crew, Shoes: Steve Madden, Earrings: Macy's, Necklace: Kohl's, Bracelet: Tiffany's, Ring: Nordstroms
We need to talk about a few things.
1: I am constantly forgetting to put my wedding ring on. Time Magazine posted something about not washing your hands while wearing rings because soap residue can build up and cause global warming or cancer or something, so I always take my ring off when I wash my hands. And I immediately put lotion on every time I wash my hands, and it tends to get caught in the loops and holes of the design of my ring, and then turn brown and nasty. So my wedding ring is usually not on my finger because I am usually forgetful. But I am married. Promise.
2: This shirt makes it look like I have nothing going on upstairs. ("Upstairs" being my chest/bosom region.) I am not a 14-year-old boy. Sometimes my profile might fool ya, but I am all woman up in here.
I feel awkward now.
3: In that last picture, I look like I'm doing some fancy footwork/dance move. I'm not. Husband was just taking pictures in quick succession while I was trying to regain my balance while wearing heels in the midst of very small rocks. The picture after that one was not so graceful.
4: My toes are in desperate need of a good coat of paint. But it's not going to happen for a while. So I'll just not wear peep-toes for a while. Problem solved.
5: Can you say "fall colors"? Can you? Well, say it. Because fall has definitely arrived, ladies and gents. I have the red leaves to prove it.

A Few of My Favorite Things

2011-10-30T13:36:00.000-07:00

Today, I'm sharing with you a secret that few know. It's one of my time-fillers. You know, the things you automatically do when you're putting off homework, or showering, or making dinner. A reason to procrastinate, if you will.
See, what I love to do is visit people.com. Yeah, I know. Kind of lame, right? But I love it! And my absolute favorite part of the website is the style watch page. And my favorite part of that is the "hit or miss?" where you vote on whether celebrities' outfits are, well, a hit or a miss. I love it. It's so fun to see the outfits that celebrities put together and to see what you like and what you don't. It's a great place for style inspiration. And it's just kind of that mindless fun that we all need once in a while.
Admit it. We all need it.
So I thought I'd put together two of my favorite outfits from last week and then two of my least favorite outfits! Whoo. Let's get down to it.

First we have Sandra Bullock. Isn't she lovely? I think she'll be one of those timeless actresses. Anyway, I love her outfit, I think it's very complimentary and, as we all know, I'm a sucker for a tailored jacket. It gives your body shape so you really don't have to try very hard.
And then we have Zoe Saldana. Sometimes I think Zoe has trouble dressing herself, she really has put together some odd ensembles in the past, but here I think she looks fantastic. If you're going to do neutral from head-to-toe, this is the way to do it.

And then we have Elizabeth Olsen, little sister to Mary Kate and Ashley. And if you're going to do neutral from head-to-toe, please don't use her outfit as a reference. I don't know what's worse, the shape of the shirt, the jagged hemline of the skirt, or the fact that she could shoplift several frozen turkeys while wearing the whole thing and no one would be able to tell.
And then we have Maggie Gyllenhaal. Did I spell that last name right? Someone check for me. Older sister of Jake, and victim of the Joker. And the problems here, I think, are as follows: no shape. Shape is always more important than pattern, but look! She manages to botch both aspects. Pattern can be great, it is probably the easiest way to add visual interest to any outfit. But if at any point you find yourself getting dressed and your outfit has an ocean landscape, you really just need to calm the earthiness down a few notches. Also the tights. If this was all-black it might work, but the dark blue/black combination is a big no-no, and I just feel like we are so busy trying to figure out what beach she's wearing that we forget to even see the person in the clothes.

So there you have it. My People Style Watch opinions from last week. Go vote on the hits and misses and get some inspiration from the stars!

Photos courtesy of People.com. Opinions courtesy of me.

A Celebration and Slumber Party

2011-10-29T13:24:00.000-07:00

Bryan had a test a few days ago that he ended up passing with flying colors (yay!) and when I found out that he had done as well as he had hoped, I knew we needed to celebrate. It was somewhere around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, and I decided we were going out to dinner immediately. And I decided it had to be pizza.
I'm very bossy.
So we went to Pizza Hut because the pizza is amazing, because they're doing their any-pizza-for-$10 deal, and because I love their salad bar. It has pudding. And I ended up putting pudding on my salad.

It's been a weird week.
And then when we got home, I decided that we should have a slumber party in the living room. So I gathered up all the blankets we own and we hunkered down for the night right in between the couch and the TV.

Sometimes, it's nice to have a husband who allows himself to be blown hither and thither by my whims.

Thievery

2011-10-27T11:08:00.000-07:00

Pants: Diesel, Sweater: JCrew, Undershirt: Shade, Booties: DSW, Scarf: TJMaxx, Watch: Nixon, Ring: Nordstroms, Earrings: TJMaxx
Please don't let yourself be concerned about my joints from that last picture. I'm a girl. We're supposed to throw like that.
Aren't these leaves just lovely, though? I feel like I'm in the land of yellow here. I'm following the yellow leaf road!

I feel like I need to explain where I got that sweater I'm wearing. The great thing about being a destitute college student is that it forces you to be really creative with your wardrobe when you can't go shopping. Also, the sucky thing about being a destitute college student is that it forces you to be really creative with your wardrobe when you can't go shopping. I wanted to be really comfortable, and I didn't have any oversized, slouchy sweaters in my closet. This is a dilemma of epic proportions.
So I raided the husband's closet. I found this JCrew sweater that I bought for him about two years ago, that he's worn probably once. (Husbands can be so naughty sometimes.) So I took it in a few inches on the sewing machine, which took about a minute and a half, and then I had slouchy, comfortableness to wear all day. It was glorious.
So my advice for the day is to steal from your husband/brother/dad/boyfriend/unsuspecting party hosts, and embrace the manly!

Here, Kitty Kitty

2011-10-26T15:23:00.000-07:00

Jacket: Jones New York, Shirt: Anne Klein, Pants: Gap, Shoes: Nine West, Earrings: Claire's, Necklace: Kohl's, Watch: Nixon
Here is how taking these pictures went: Bryan and I pulled up to this pond by my friend Lyndee's house. (Hi, Lyndee!) We started taking pictures like normal, and then I heard this "meow" and saw this kitty booking it toward me. It ran right up to me, and started purring and nuzzling on my legs, so I bent down to pet it. And then we were best friends. And kitty kitty wanted to be in all of the pictures with me. And who am I to tell such a cute kitty that it can't be in my pictures? So kitty kitty posed with me, and it was a hoot and a half.

Fun fact about this outfit: none of the clothes I'm wearing were my size when I bought them. I have found that if you know how to do the most basic of sewing, you can make anything fit you! The pants were a size six, so I took them in using the instructions on this tutorial . I used white thread instead of gray, but I figure no one is going to get close enough to tell. And if they do, I'll just say, "Please get your head away from my pelvic bone." The shirt was an XL, so I unpicked the seams at the sides a few inches, sewed it up, and redid the hem. And the jacket was a medium, and jackets... well, I love them, but they rarely fit me right off the rack. This one had some very tight side seams so I sewed right over them a few inches in and then just cut off the excess fabric after zig-zagging the seam so it wouldn't fray.
As a destitute and starving college student, this is one way I've found to save a lot of money on clothes. And I mean, a lot. There is usually an abundance of L, XL, XXL clothes on clearance, so it's really worth it to dig around and find good deals on well-made clothing that will last a long time, and then make it fit you!

And those are my pearls of wisdom for today. Go forth and conquer the clearance rack, my children!

My Favorite Trench

2011-10-25T18:38:00.000-07:00

Coat: Dillards, Pats: Gap, Shoes: BCBG, Sunglasses: Smiths, Watch: Nixon, Earrings: Nordstroms
Some guy said to me today, "I bet you don't get lost when you're wearing that coat."
Yes. Yes, my mom bought me this coat because she was worried she wouldn't see me if I wandered off at Disneyland.
Not.
She actually bought me this coat for my birthday (which was back in July), because we all know the best time to stock up on winter clothes is in the dead of summer, right? The sales are insane, yo.

Of course, I had to have the belt loops taken down a few inches because clothes here are not made for 5'10" frames and the belt was tying somewhere around my ribcage before I got it fixed. Oh, the things our Dutch genes do to us.
Fun fact: Dutch genes also make it difficult to find shoes. In Holland, the average height for a woman is 5'11". Did you see that correctly? 5'11"! My shoe size (11... yeah, I know) and my height are below average there! Someday, I will travel to Holland and go shopping for pants that are long, shoes that are large, and coats that tie at my waist.
And then my life will be complete.

The end.

Very Purple-y Dress

2011-10-24T17:13:00.000-07:00

Dress: Gap, Heels: Nordstroms, Necklace: Gift, Ring: Style & Co.
Today, I drove my husband to school early. (We are sharing his car for a while. Oi.) So early that I didn't have time to do my make-up before we left, so I just threw my bathroom bag into the car along with my school books and bagel and strawberry cream cheese, and drove off going 90 down the driveway.
Just kidding about the cream cheese. It was plain.
After I got husband to school (on time, thank you very much), I started to do my make-up in the parking lot and noticed something in the mirror... my eyebrows were out.of.con.trol. Thankfully, I had my tweezers and started going to town on my hairier features.
I got some looks. From the people who parked next to me.
From the students weaving their way through cars.
Especially from the parking attendant who leaned close to my windshield to check my parking pass, saw me, jumped, and scurried off.
I feel like we have a special relationship now.

And you should see how well-groomed my little browsies are.

Happy Halloween! (Early.)

2011-10-23T14:32:00.000-07:00

Shirt: Shade, Pants: Elle, Boots: Macy's, Awesome Costume: Homemade, if you can believe it.

We went to a Halloween party last night. It was a little bit awesome. There was a dance-off, and it was the absolute best part of my whole day. Maybe my whole week.
Can you tell what I went as? I was an iPhone! Can you see all my little apps?? I looked at my husband's phone and used Gorilla Glue (yeah, we don't have a very big craft box) and colored paper, and even scissors to create the ensemble you see here. I felt pretty cool. Some people came up and pushed my "apps." It was awkward.
But I guess technically, I am pushing my own music app in the last picture. Except I only did that so it wouldn't fall off. It was a long party. My apps got bent and were tired of hanging on to the duct tape I used to stick them to my shirt.
Yeah. I put a lot of effort into this costume. (No I didn't.)

Oh, and don't worry about the wrist brace. I have the tendonitis. But I blog anyway. See how much I love you?

What I Wore The Day I Got In An Accident

2011-10-21T08:36:00.000-07:00

Cardigan: Dillard's, Tank: Nordstroms, Jeans: Gap, Shoes: Nordstroms, Earrings: Style & Co., Bracelet: Lucky Brand

Yep. This is what I was wearing when I got in my first real accident. I mean, I've been in one fender bender before, but this was my first capital A ACCIDENT. I remember my driver's ed teacher saying, "Everyone has either been in an accident or will be in one." Back then, I just thought, "Pff. Watch me be the exception to the rule, buddy." But somehow the great equalizer found me yesterday, and I got hit on the highway. The damage to my car was just mostly cosmetic, thank goodness, but the other guy's was leaking fluid and had to be towed away. One of the worst parts of yesterday is that I think his whole day was ruined. He had to go and get a rental car and everything, and he didn't even live in this state. Poor guy...
Bryan was in the passenger seat with me. I can't tell you how glad I was not to be alone at that moment. He kept trying to give me a hug and tell me everything would be okay, but I told him not to until we got home because I knew if he wrapped me in his arms, I was going to loose my cool in front of the cops and everyone driving by. Speaking of which, why is it that we think everyone on the road that passes us immediately cements our memory in their mind forever? I am so paranoid that someone is going to see me at school or in the grocery store and whisper to their friends, "See her? That's the girl that was in that accident I told you all about the other day." We humans. We are just not rational sometimes, are we.
No one was injured at all yesterday, thank goodness. It honestly could have been so much worse than it was. I kept telling Bryan how sorry I was, but he told me over and over that it didn't matter and everything was going to be fine and that we were safe and that's all that was important. He said it was one of the worst moments of his life when he saw that car coming right at me.
The thing is, I look back at some of the guys I dated before I met Bryan, and yesterday I imagined what it would have been like if I had married one of them and gotten in an accident. And I can tell you with 100% surety that not one of them would have been as understanding and as forgiving and as comforting as Bryan. I love that man, and I am so lucky that he married me.
One upside to yesterday though, is that a door-to-door salesman came to my house about an hour after the accident, trying to sell me some green cleaning products. I said, "See the left side of my car? I'm going to meet my insurance deductible getting that fixed and don't think I can fit your cleaning products into my budget this month." And then he left! So that part of the day was a little bit fantastic.

I Wish...

2011-10-20T13:05:00.000-07:00

Today, I wore a hoodie and tennis shoes to schol, ate a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger and fries at 10:30am, came home and took a nap. So instead of showing you what I wore on a really unproductive day, I'm going to show you what I would have worn if it could have been anything I wanted. I did a few variations on polyvore.com, but what they both ended up having was 1) a leather bomber jacket, 2) a striped long-sleeve tee, and 3) winter booties. And of course, skinny jeans because I'm not sure that another kind of pant even exists. (I need help.)

By the way, if a hoodie and tennis shoes equals lack of productivity, if I had on that $1,200 black bomber jacket, I'm pretty sure I could have solved world hunger. Just sayin'.

She Wears White After Labor Day

2011-10-19T15:11:00.000-07:00

Blazer: Gap, Tank: Nordstroms, Jeans: Gap, Necklace: Kohl's, Ring: Nordstroms, Earrings: Style & Co, Shoes: BCBG

Do you wear white after Labor Day? I know it's a rule that you're not supposed to, but I haven't quite gotten over my teenage rebellion rule-breaker years yet. I'm thinking when I hit 30 I'll probably start to mature. My voice will drop, I'll stop locking myself in my room and listening to screamo-rock, and I'll start growing hair in my armpits.
Never mind... I'm still not really sure how biology works.

I vacuumed my car out yesterday. It was pretty bad... it's a good thing I live far away from my family because my dad totally would have grounded me if he had seen it. It had gotten to the point where every time I turned a corner, water bottles, bags of chips, loose change, and school books would be thrown to and fro. It's squeaky clean now though!
And will probably stay that way for about a week.
And you know what? I'm just okay with that.

Cat's Out Of The Bag

2011-10-18T22:41:00.000-07:00

Dress: Old Navy, Boots: Macy's, Watch: Nixon, Earrings: Style & Co, Belt: thrifted

Okay, kidlets!
Surprise, surprise.
I decided to take my little blog of sweet nothings and turn it into somewhat of a style blog/journal for myself. (Super original, I know.) It's kind of something I've wanted to do for a while so I decided it was high time to bite the bullet. So welcome to the change!

And if you're wondering if I'm still going to be hilarious, fear not!
I so am. And if we can not talk about the faces I'm making in pretty much every single one of the pictures, that'd be great.Thanks.

Hey Folks

2011-10-12T15:33:00.000-07:00

That's how one of my professors always addresses us. Feels very down-homey.

Just wanted to let you know that change is a'comin! The blog is getting redesigned and I am switching up the way I do my posts (content, how often, etc.)

Stay tuned!

Husband and Wife Conversation

2011-10-09T23:59:00.000-07:00

Scene: Wife is cooking Sunday dinner, a concoction of pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, salad, melon balls, and rolls fresh out of the oven. This is the best wife EVER. She has everything done ahead of time and her husband is super lucky to be married to her.

Husband

Hey wife, do you need me to mash the potatoes?

*Lifts lid on pot in preparation of mashing*

*Sees that potatoes are already mashed*

Oh, look! The potato-mashing fairy already

came and took care of it!

Wife

*Not amused*

Yes. Just like the laundry fairy visited over

the weekend. Just like the bed-making fairy

visits every morning. Just like the vacuuming

fairy visits a few times a week. Just like the

homework fairy comes and sits at my

computer for hours every night.

Husband

Just like the pain-in-the-butt fairy visits

when I say something wrong.

Wife

*Laughs*

Food For Sicky Days

2011-09-26T17:58:00.001-07:00

I'm home sick today. In Bryan's sweatpants and a shirt that I spilled V8 juice on.

I have the strep.

I think that's how we should classify all illnesses. With "the" in front.
The cancer.
The gout.
The strep.
The tendonitis.

Really, the possibilities are endless. And articled properly.

So naturally, I've had a lot of time to sit and think today. And watch movies. And eat tomato soup and drink tea. And surf the internets. And watch YouTube videos. And there a few things that I think the world needs to know.

Thing 1: Tina Fey said it better than I could have, and described my sentiments exactly when she said in her SNL skit regarding Justin Bieber, "I don't know if I want to marry him or put him in a stroller and push him around the park!" J Biebs, I haven't figured out how I love you, but I love you and that's enough for now.

Thing 2: I hate, hate, hate, hate, HATE with a passion when songs have a long first verse, then a chorus, then a short second verse, and then a chorus. Ugh! Lazy bums! Write out a whole second verse! Example: Next 2 You by the aforementioned Biebs and Chris Brown. First verse:
You’ve got that smile,
That only heaven can make.
I pray to God everyday,
That you keep that smile.
Yeah, you are my dream,
There’s not a thing I won’t do.
I'd give my life up for you,
'Cause you are my dream.

Second verse:
If you had my child
You would make my life complete
Just to have your eyes on a little me.
That’d be mine forever

And then it ends and goes to the bridge. Awful! I hate when songs do that, Carrie Underwood does that, Adele does that... the midget second verse is rampant in the music industry and it must stop, I say. Must stop!

You know when you go get a pedicure, and they do the salt scrub on your feet and legs and you're like, "I know this is nice and exfoliating but I'm losing nine layers of skin here."
I have that feeling in my throat.
And my throat is not skin.
It's muscle.

Ow.

See you when I put regular clothes on again.
And stop having sick-person hallucinations about a boy six years younger than me.

How Do You Like It?

2011-09-25T17:35:00.001-07:00

There is one correct way to drink pop, as far as I am concerned.

Yeah, I called it pop. Not soda. Not cola. Pop.

So I guess there is one correct way to refer to it and one correct way to drink it.

This can is open. Yeah. Believe it. Bryan calls it "shotgunning." I don't know what that means, but it's where you only crack it open part of the way. If you tip it, it doesn't spill (as much). It seems like you're ingesting less sugar than you are. And it lasts a really long time.

Win, win, win.

Lord of the Nerds

2011-09-05T14:32:00.000-07:00

Have I ever told you what a gigantic Lord of the Rings geek I am?
I'm talking embarrassing kind of geek.
The kind of geek that filled my locker with pictures of Legolas in high school.
The kind of geek that earned me the nickname "Frodo" at youth conference once.
The kind of geek that visited LordoftheRings.net every day on the phone with my friend and we'd take bets as to which voice would say, "Welcome to Lord of the Rings.net" next, joined the Council of Elrond, played Lord of the Rings Monopoly with my other geeky friends, read the behind-the-scenes book cover to cover, and basically read every single thing on the internet that related to the Lord of the Rings movies.
And then did a book report on The Fellowship of the Ring in English class.

I can tell you what the structures used to make regular people look like midgets are: bigatures.
I can tell you who the stunt double that did most of the Gimli parts is: Brad Beaty.
I can tell you which boat almost sank on the river while shooting: Legolas's and Gimli's.
I can tell you what game the hobbits played on set during downtime: tig.
I can tell you at which point in the second movie Peter Jackson hit the gong once: when Eowyn disappears.
I can tell you what they used to make Bilbo's face go nuts when he sees the ring again: the Mission Impossible kind of mask.
I can tell you pretty much any useless information you want to know, and even most of it that you would rather not know.

So you can imagine my sheer delight when I saw this on my favorite blogger, Pioneer Woman's, entertainment website:

You can imagine my glee. Can't you? Doesn't everyone get gleeful when they see movie quizzes on their favorite blogger's website where the first person to answer all the questions right wins a $250 gift card?
Just me?
Oh.

So, I watched the clock like a hawk all day Saturday, waiting for 6:00 sharp when the quiz began. And I answered all the questions with what I thought were the right answers, and waited until Sunday when the winners would be posted. And you know what??

See that "Sara W."?

THAT'S ME.

:)
All those years of nerddom finally paid off. Whoo!

Nice Honkers

2011-09-01T18:01:00.000-07:00

Did I mention that Bryan and I bought a new car over the summer? Well, new to us. Technically it was one of those "pre-owned" ones, but it had such low miles and was in such good condition that we snapped it up!
It's a little burgundy civic, gets fantastic gas mileage, and I just love it.
Problem was, it didn't come with a keyless entry. Which was strange, because our CRV (both Hondas, Honda makes the CRV and the Civic, for those of you who don't come from families where this is vital information) is several years older and does have the little clicker-automatic-thingy.
Well, this needed to be remedied! What kind of modern woman would I be if I had to actually put my key in the lock and turn? Wow. A bad modern woman, that's what kind.
So I called up Advanced Sound and Performance in St. George and asked if they could put keyless entry on our car and they said, "We can do 'er. Tomorrow at 1:00," or something like that. So I took the car over, went shopping with my mom and brothers while we waited for the deed to be done,

Fast forward to two days ago:
Sometimes Bryan has class earlier than I do, and sometimes I have class earlier than he does. On the days his class is earlier than mine, he rouses me five minutes before he needs to leave and says, "Let's go!" See, we didn't want to buy two parking passes because they are e-x-p-e-n-s-i-v-e and university parking is l-a-m-e-o. So we only bought one, so we can park only the civic on campus. And if we were to park off campus, we'd be walking a good mile to school every morning. WHAT HORROR!!!! Seriously.
So I take Bryan to school and then come home, get ready, eat, pack up my things, and then leave for school myself, where I circle the parking lot for hours, hoping and praying that someone will decide to leave campus so I can have a place to park before my classes begin.
It's a vicious cycle.
Anyway.
So the other day, I was taking Bryan to school. We picked up one of his friends that lives in the area that had the same class as Bryan and tripped happily off down the road.
And then it happened.
I don't know how. Or why. Or wheretofore. But it happened.
The car alarm started going off. As we were in the car, as we were driving down the (very full) street. A blaring horn, blinking lights, the whole nine yards. I pulled off to the side of the road and turned off the car, put it in park, nothing helped.
But then it stopped!
Miracle of miracles, we continued down the road.
And then it started right back up again.
This pattern continued the entire way to school. ENTIRE. WAY. There are an abundance of pedestrians in this college town. I hope that the steady rhythm of the very loud horn helped everybody realize that it was not, in fact, me honking at them, but my car, with a devil inside the engine. Or computer system. Whatever.

Bryan's friend loosened the positive battery connection on the car for me once we got to school, and that reset the computer and seemed to solve the problem. Just to be safe, I took it to an electrical specialist here in town and he said, "Yep, that can happen when you have an after-market keyless system put on. If it doesn't stop, we'll probably have to just take it off."

*deflate*
That was some disappointing information, because I know that all bad guys just look for women who are getting into cars without keyless entry, right? It gives them more time to attack women, right? RIGHT?
I sometimes get delusional about bad guys, but that's honestly the impression that I have.

Anyway, the devil seems to have moved out of the car for the time being. If you (in Southern Utah or in Idaho) hear a rhythmic honking driving down the road, because you WILL hear it, it's deafening, please shout to people on the street that it's the dang keyless entry and that I'm a very normal person.

Thanks.

For your pleasure: I typed in "car randomly honking" on YouTube and this is what it came up with. Enjoy.

My Old Friends

2011-08-24T15:40:00.000-07:00

Hello, bloggers. I have but one thing to discuss today:
Firstly, we're back in Moscow, back in school. It's going to be hectic and crazy and I might be in the loony bin by the end of it. So that's not my topic of discussion today. Instead, it's this!

That's right... my old friends Ben and Jerry. My super-evil, overweight, emotionally distraught alter-ego picked up four (that's right, four Ben and Jerry's containers when we were at the store on Saturday. "They were on sale," my alter-ego said. "That's over five thousand calories!" I shot back. I ended up losing, and leaving the store with the ice cream containers, two of which are now completely empty. I have no idea how it happened.
Here's the problem with Ben and Jerry's: it's delicious! I can't get over it! Look at all those ingredients, and tell me you don't want to dive into a pool of marshmallow cream and caramel! That's right, you can't. But there are SO many delicious aspects (the ice cream, the fudge bits, the oreo cookies, the caramel swirls, the chocolate-covered waffle cone, the brownie bits... I could go on) that I want at least a bit of each before I put the container back in the freezer. This presents a problem. Take "Karamel Sutra" for example. Caramel, marshmallow, fudge pieces, chocolate ice cream. With each bite, I strive to get an equal representation of each lovely sweet, but this is inevitably what ends up happening:
"Oh, I didn't get enough marshmallow in that last bite."
"All I could taste was fudge in that bite."
"The only thing that bite had was ice cream."
"Ooh, I want a fudge piece with caramel, that would be perfect."
"Maybe just some ice cream and marshmallow."

And I spend 15 minutes trying to get the elusive perfect spoonful of Ben and Jerry's, so before I know it, half the container was gone and I have to stop myself from getting the calculator to figure out how long it will take me to burn all those calories.

I guess the age-old adage is correct: You can't eat your Ben and Jerry's and stay skinny too.

Life is unfair.
And delicious.

Happy Anniversary, Baby, Got You On My Mind

2011-08-16T11:47:00.000-07:00

Two years!

That's right. Bryan and I have been married for two years. I'll be honest, sometimes it seems a lot longer, and sometimes I can't even remember what the heck the point of my life was before I joined it with my man. And other times, it seems like the time has just flown by because of all the fun we have had being together.

A Homage to the Husband:
Bryan is the most magnanimous person I know. He would literally give the shirt off of his back to a stranger if he thought that person was in need. A few months ago, Bryan came home from hiking on a Saturday and told me that the next morning, he was going to help a man he had found stranded on the side of the road with a broken car. He left early Sunday morning, drove 50 miles, spent all day with this man trying to fix his car, and when it was plain the car couldn't be fixed, Bryan paid for a hotel so the guy would have some place to sleep that night, because he'd spent the last night in his car on the side of the freeway. Then he came home and said, "I hope you're okay with me getting him a place to stay." And I just looked at him, incredulous, because I have never known anyone else to spend an entire day helping an complete stranger.
A few weeks after that, he came home from work and I ran up to him and hugged him. Then I pulled away, because the back of his shirt was wet with perspiration, which was odd because he worked in an office and drove home in an air-conditioned car. I asked him what he'd been doing and he said, "Oh, I saw a guy on the highway trying to push his car up a hill, so I got out and helped him." The way he says these things, so nonchalantly, is mind-boggling for me. If he hadn't been sweaty, and if I hadn't asked him what he'd been doing, he would never have told me. I doubt he would have told anyone. He is the most altruistic person I know. I am confident that there are scores of other situations just like that one, that I have never heard about because he has never told me, because for Bryan, helping someone in need does not even require a second thought or fanfare of any kind. He just helps.

Bryan served his mission in Florida, and a few weeks before we were married, I got a letter from the wife of his mission president, whom Bryan had not seen or spoke to for over five years. I don't remember all of what it said, but I do remember she said, "I hope my daughter marries a man like Bryan Wheat."
A few weeks ago, on a trip with Bryan up to Salt Lake, I had the opportunity to meet a man Bryan had gotten to know quite well on his mission. We sat and talked with him, his wife, and his three-year-old daughter for about an hour, and it was so incredibly enjoyable. I just love the people Bryan attracts. I got an email from this man just yesterday who was concerned that he hadn't adequately expressed his gratitute toward Bryan for how much Bryan helped him in Florida. It was such a kind, heartfelt email and I was once again reminded of the caliber of the man I am married to.

So Bryan... every day, I am thankful for you. I love you completely and am so grateful you chose me. Thank you for being a good man and for being my husband. I am so glad I am yours and you are mine.

Les Pays-Bas

2011-07-29T20:47:00.000-07:00

Something significant happened this summer. Something I have failed completely to blog about. I am now rectifying that failure. (Does anyone else think the word "rectify" should have a completely different meaning?)

My family, well, at least half of it, is from Holland. My grandfather's father joined the LDS church in Holland and came over to America, eventually sending for his wife and children. My grandfather was the youngest child in that family, his first language is Dutch, in fact. I think there were seven or eight children in my great-grandfather's family and three or four of those siblings joined the church and came to America. The same thing kind of happened on the other side of my family as well, except for in England. A few generations later, I was born. Isn't that so lucky that all those circumstances came together to result in me? When you think about it, the fact that any of us are alive is a sheer miracle. We've all beaten incredible odds to even be born. Go us!
Anyway, fast forward to this summer: one of my great-grandfather's brothers stayed in Holland, and so has his progeny, so far. That brother begat a son, and that son begat a son, Hans, who then begat Brenda and Koen (pronounced like the last syllable in "racoon"). Hans, Koen, and Brenda came to America to spend a month in the wild, wild west. And I can't even begin to tell you how much fun we had with those three. Hans is my mom's second cousin, so Brenda and Koen are my third cousins (Hans is my second cousin once removed. Confused yet?).
I just have to tell you... I think that our ancestors up in heaven leapt for joy when we all met. The three cousins stayed with my parents for a week, while we showed them all Southern Utah has to offer. The lake, Zion National Park, hiking slot canyons, shooting an entire arsenal of weaponry, swimming pools, shopping American-style, and a whole slew of other activities. The three spoke perfect English and I had so much fun talking to them and getting to know my cousins from an entirely different land. After staying in Southern Utah, they left for Northern Utah, where most of my mom's family still lives. They stopped back through here today on their way to Vegas, where they'll fly out of to Amsterdam (yes, an 18-hour flight) tomorrow. It was such a joy to see them again, I thought it would be another few years before I got that chance.
And I'll tell you what--there is something to be said for family. There is no other bond like it, and even with people that should have been total strangers, I felt completely at home. I'll miss the Dutch Groens (pronounced "Growin" here, pronounced "Hchhhrooon" there) and look forward to seeing those wonderful people, and any other relatives I haven't met yet, in the future.

Some interesting things I learned about Holland:
-They reclaim land there. Meaning that they literally push the ocean back with their dikes and drain the water back to the ocean, giving themselves more land. It's nothing short of genius how they operate those.
-They have a queen. And a price and princess, much like William and Catherine. I guess the Dutch don't so much mind their royalty, but they are paid quite a lot.
-Cars are ex-pen-sive. On top of buying a car, paying insurance, and paying for gas, you have to pay monthly taxes for every car you own. Economy cars are about $60 a month. Big trucks and suburbans? About $600 a month. Fuggedaboudit.
-"Soft" drugs are legal. Hard drugs, nope.
-Holland was once the most powerful nation in the world, thanks to its position to the ocean. Shipping and mercantile made it the richest country once. Think middle ages time period.
-No guns in Holland. You're not even allowed to own one. And surprisingly, shooting guns was Koen's favorite American activity. Ha! That's because we rock.
-It costs a lot of money to get your driver's license there. You have to drive for 35 hours with an instructor, and each hour costs about $50. As a result, very few young people have their licenses simply because they can't afford it.
-They don't measure their rainfall there. When they learned we get less than a foot of rainfall here each year, they were astounded. When I asked them how much they got there, they said, "Who bothers to count?" So much rain that you can't count it. Crazy.
-You can smoke at 16 there. I think the drinking age is 18.
-Students get free bus passes to discourage driving.
-Their national color is orange. And boy, do they love their orange. Of course, orange is nowhere to be found in their flag. It's red, white, and blue like ours.
-Ice skating is very popular, and famous skating routes are found in Holland on the rivers there, which freeze completely over during the winter. Because of the recent change in climate, the rivers haven't frozen for a while, however.
-They usually eat bread for breakfast and lunch. And not much else.
-Cheese is big over there, too. But they differentiate between "new" and "old" cheese. Young people eat "new" cheese, old people eat "old" cheese. New is cultivated in the last 65 days, old is anything beyond that. Who knew?

Anyone want to go to Holland avec moi? We'll have some fantastic tour guides...

Le Coupable

2011-07-18T10:27:00.000-07:00

I've been on the hunt for the past few days, looking for what could have possibly given me food poisoning last week. Usually, I am very careful about what I eat, so I was determined to figure out what I could have overlooked. This morning, I went to my parents' house, and I'm pretty sure I found the culprit. I'll show you:

Yes. Hershey's chocolate syrup. I used it to make some chocolate milk, because I'm seven. You might think that since it's Hershey's, it's trusted and safe. And in your case, it probably is. This bottle, however, has a problem. I'll show you:

Don't see it? Let's move closer:

Ah.... eureka. "Refrigerate after opening." Why is that a problem? Let me show you where I found it.

Ta da. Problem solved. Moral of the story? Check labels. They'll save you an uncomfortable few minutes kneeling in front of the toilet. And for heaven's sake, refrigerate your perishables.

Examine The Jammin'

2011-07-16T17:55:00.000-07:00

My stomach is a fairy stomach. A weak stomach, a pansy stomach. Remember my lovely licorice experience? What other stomachs merely scoff at, mine seizes up and freaks out at.
It's not all that fun, to be completely honest with you.

Take yesterday, for example. I was experiencing my first jam-making session ever. My grandma has a plethora of apricots and she set some aside for me because my husband loves apricot jam and I love to make the food my husband loves. It's a win-win relationship. Anyway, I was supposed to go on the Orderville Hike yesterday (14 miles through a river, it's beautiful) but I wasn't feeling well, so I bailed. Then I tried to work out and got through the first five minutes and had to stop because I was so tired.
I may or may not have stayed in smelly work-out clothes for the rest of the day anyway.
When my grandma and I started to make the jam, I was feeling a little queasy. Thank goodness the mixture had to boil for about 20 minutes, during which time I went and collapsed on the couch. When my grandma called me back upstairs to continue the jam making experience, I was worse. She showed me how to pour the mixture into the bottles and seal them, and I looked at her and said, "Grandma, I don't feel so good." She asked, "Would you like me to do this part?" And since I'm so macho, I said, "No, I'll be fine."
Approximately five seconds later, I was in the bathroom kneeling in front of the toilet while my stomach expelled everything I've ever eaten out of it. Bleh.
Then I felt fine and continued making jam.

I do not understand my digestive system.
First A&W, then Subway, then Pita Pit, then licorice, then whatever I ate today.... my stomach and I are going to have a serious sit down here pretty soon if it doesn't tough up.
Meanwhile, I won't be eating, as retching is a miserable experience.

The end.

The Rain in Spain Falls Mainly in the Plain

2011-07-06T09:46:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Bryan came up to me after work and said, "Last year you blogged about me on my birthday, and this year you didn't." And then he gave me a really sad face and big puppy eyes, and I stifled a laugh and gave him a hug. Then I told him I would blog about him today to make up for it. I'm such a nice wife.

You know, sometimes I wonder if my husband and I have a "normal" relationship, if such a thing even exists. Take it from me, Bryan and I are not normal around each other. Of course we tone things down when we're around our friends and family, because if people ever saw how we act alone, someone would call social services and we'd be committed. At least that's what I think. Are other couples like that? Normal around other people, but slightly psychotic alone? The world may never know.
I'll give you an example of how Bryan and I talk to each other sometimes. And I really can't describe it any other way except for a rhyming competition. It's completely impromptu, one of us will say something, the other will make a ridiculous rhyme, and the game is suddenly ON. And it is so on.

I suppose if any of you have seen the movie Amazing Grace, you probably know what kind of rhyming contest I mean. Billy and Wilberforce get done with their foot race and one says to the other, "What are we going to do about Fox?" The other replies, "Hit him with socks."
"Put him in a box."
"Fill him with rocks."
And so on, and so forth.

Yesterday, Bryan and I got in a particularly fierce rhyming contest. See, Bryan is an intern for the county prosecutor here in Utah, but there's another intern as well. She is a 1L and hasn't been there all summer, so I asked him where she was, and he said, "In Spain." So of course, I said, "Is she making it rain?"
"She probably flew over on a plane."
"Well yes, you can't take a train."
"Sara, of my life you are the bane."
"Like Abel and Cain?"
"More like the Ukraine."
"I bet life there is mundane."
"And probably a drain."
"Oh Bryan, please refrain."
"You are a poop stain." (We're also really mature and creative around each other. Not.)
"What do you have to gain?"
"Not a weather vane."
"You need to stay in your lane."
"Do you think tonight the moon will wane?"
"Please remove your mane." (This is about when I start to panic because I can't think of any more rhymes, and Bryan is going strong.)
"Well that was inane."
"Only because you're a pain!"
"And sometimes you're plain."
"You can't use that, you already said 'plain'!"
"Yeah, but I was using it as the flying object, a plane."
"Doesn't matter, come up with a new one or I win." (I'm definitely panicking at this point.)
"Fine. You're standing like a crane."
"Dang it. Um.... shall we begin again?" (Said like a gain.)
"You like a guy named Blain."
"That was lame. Um... I'll rent you in twain."
"How many times must I explain?"
And now I can't think of any, so I say, "I'm done!" to try and save face, but Bryan keeps going strong. As we were washing dishes, he kept coming up with more "ane" rhymes.
"I have a varicose vein. We're high up on the food chain. It's a lovely domain. We're eating whole grain. What does that contain? I could run a campaign. And maybe some jam I could strain. But I shan't be inhumane. I simply want to ascertain. Maybe we could visit Maine. And you could play a Scottish thane. And eat some sugar cane." At this point in time, I'm cracking up, but I can't let him get away with using my word twice.
"I already used 'Cain'! You're cheating! You've already won and you're still cheating!" And we both laugh and I tell him he's the smartest husband in the world, and that he can rhyme better than everyone I've ever met. Because everyone knows that a good rhymer is a love-all-my-lifetime-er. Ha!

So whether or not we have a normal relationship, we have fun, and there is no one that I enjoy being around, or rhyming with, more!

Happy be-lated birthday blog, babe.

Ooh, maybe alliterations will be our next impromptu game! See, with us, the options, however simple, are truly endless.

Love,
Sara

Twizz and Fizz

2011-06-24T19:00:00.000-07:00

I have had quite the interesting last few days. So interesting, in fact, that I think you'd like to hear about it.
Aren't I so thoughtful?

Let's start with Wednesday morning, shall we? Wednesday morning, my family was going to the lake at around 9am. So, since I've decided to jump back on the I-exercise-every-day horse lately, I got up at 8am to do this video:

It kicks my butt. And it's part of "recovery week". Right, Shaun T. Right... I hadn't had a lot of water before the workout, because I had been asleep. And I find that it's best not to drink water when asleep, seeing as I'm not awake. So. After the workout, I tripped happily, and sweatily, on over to my parents' house and we left for the lake. I had a bottle of water with me when we got on the lake, but somehow the bag of cups in the boat had apparated to who knows where, so my water bottle ended up being the only apparatus with which to extract water from the big blue jug that is the boat's store of drinking water. So naturally, everyone on the boat started drinking from my water. Including my three-year-old nephew, and my six-month-old niece, who loves drinking water. As you can probably deduce, there was backwash involved. So I bid my fair water bottle adieu and settled for snacking instead of drinking. Snacking what, you ask?

Snacking these. Now, don't be fooled by the happy and peppy and energetic explosion behind the actual Twizzlers. I can assure you, they are not so impressive in person. I think I had two Twizzlers.
Fast forward to Wednesday night:
My stomach started cramping while I was in the shower. And not normal, I'm-hungry-feed-me cramps, these were, I'm-pissed-so-suffer-sucker cramps. Before I knew it, I was doubled over, clutching my stomach and hyperventilating. So I did what any mature and independent adult would do:
I called my mommy.
My mom then proceeded to tell me that sometimes when she eats licorice, her stomach cramps up. And my mom and I look a lot alike on the outside, so we deduced that our insides probably react the same way to licorice, and by the way, it's only when I don't drink enough water, dear.
Fantastic.
The couch and I became very good friends that night.
Thursday morning:
I felt fine! Super! Great! My mom and I were driving up to Salt Lake to see her parents for a day or two, so I ate breakfast really early, and we hit the road! A few hours later, the cramps came back. So I leaned back my chair and tried really hard not to scream. And my mom then told me, "Oh, well the licorice is probably still in your stomach since it won't digest, and now your stomach can't digest all the new food you send to it."
My mom's timing has been better in other situations, I promise.
So, we decided to remedy the situation, I would take this:

See how it's "trusted" and "guaranteed"?
It's not. I can tell you that with absolute assurance that those words are false advertising. I'm not going to tell you how exactly I know this, but rest assured. I KNOW. So I ate nothing Thursday, excepting the ill-timed breakfast.
Friday morning, I was, ah.... disappointed, I guess you could say, given the certain, ah.... timeline on the aforementioned product. And I was alarmed at the warning on the back which said, "Contact a doctor immediately if ..... does not occur in 6-12 hours. This could signify a serious problem." So I freaked out, dialed my uncle's number, and he said, "Go to the pharmacy and get this and drink it."

So I did.
And it says something inviting on the bottle, like, "The only fizzy magnesium citrate!" or something. I now understand that such enthusiasm about fizz indicated the most awful taste ever ingested inside. And it was awful.
And highly, HIGHLY effective.
Again, don't ask me how I know that.
But when I say that it's effective for at least 12 hours, (given that I downed it 12 hours ago, with my mother chanting, "Be brave, piglet!" as I spewed and sputtered and cringed) trust me. It doesn't stop working. DOESN'T STOP.

Which explains why I haven't left my grandparents' house today (except for an ill-timed lunch with my friend Paige), and why my grandparents now understand perhaps more about my digestive system than I would be comfortable with them understanding.

I'm so glad we had this talk.

Love,
Sara

A Man's Man

2011-06-20T22:42:00.001-07:00

It's almost midnight, and I don't want to go to bed.
Believe it or not, it is shocking the number of times that is more true than not.
Am I a morning person? No. Am I a night owl? No. I am a sleeper, but I put it off. I have issues.

The reason I put off sleep tonight though, was to take my little brother to a movie. The Green Lanter, to be exact. Now, Time called it "the most generic of summer time-wasters", but I liked it. Perhaps because I went into it with low expectations after reading that review, but nonetheless, it was enjoyable for me. Maybe because Ryan Reynolds was in a skin-tight green uniform that was shockingly revealing, and maybe because I enjoy seeing good triumph over evil. We'll never know the specifics of why I enjoyed it. But I digress.
Watching this movie made me realize something: superheroes are very committed. Not just to fighting evil and getting rid of villans with bulbous heads and appendages, but also to their lady friends. Let's explore together, shall we?

Superman--the end and beginning of all things super and manly. Also heavily committed to Lois Lane, even though Kate Bosworth made it seem as though he impregnated her and then left. That's a pretty typical man thing to do, but he never chases after any other women, at least not in any movies I've seen regarding bird, no... plane, no... man of steel.
Batman--Rachel Dawes. I know at first it seemed like he was all into Katie Holmes and then he was all, no, now I'm into Maggie Gyllenhall, but they're both Rachel Dawes so I'm also going to assume that Batman is a one-woman kind of guy.
Spiderman--Mary Jane Watson. Never chases after any other girl. Although I hear it's going to change in the next Spiderman movie, and that Gwen Stacy will be his main squeeze. But we all know Spidey's heart belongs to MJ. Aw.
Thor--he's into Natalie Portman. And her character was so transparent in the last film that I don't even remember her name. But he had eyes for no other woman, including his kick-a fighting chick friend in the shiny armor. Now that's impressive, God of Thunder.
Hal Jordan--granted, he's shown in bed with another woman, but again, we sense that his heart has always belonged to Blake Lively, another character whose on-screen name is escaping me. And I walked out of this movie literally less than half an hour ago. My brain. It's tired.
Ironman--now we all know Tony Stark is a ladies' man, but we never see him chase, or care about, any woman other than Virginia "Pepper" Potts.

Maybe it's because screen writers realize time constraints and don't have the minutes to spare developing any other female characters. Or maybe, it's because deep down, people realize that a real man's man loves one woman and treats her like it. Yeah. I'm definitely going with that supposition.

Did you hear that, Representative Wiener?
And President Clinton?
And Governor Schwarzenegger?
And Governor Spitzer?
And Governor Sanford?
And Tiger Woods?
And Brad Pitt?
And David Letterman?
And Jude Law?
And Charlie Sheen?
And Jesse James?
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera....

Mais Oui!

2011-06-13T21:31:00.000-07:00

Anyone else read Oh Happy Day? My aforemetioned hair stylist asked me if I read it, so of course, I came home after my hair appointment and checked it out... and guess what. Jordan (Oh Happy Day blogger) is giving away a trip for two to Paris for seven days and seven nights! Air fare and hotel included!! Can you believe that? I think it's awesome when bloggers are willing to do stuff like this for their readers. Definitely keeps me coming back! :) And how fortuitous that the day I get my hair done is the day the contest is posted? Meant to be? I think so. Check it out, peeps.

The giveaway and ways to enter.
The blog.

Take me with you if you win!

Rub-A-Dub-Dub

2011-06-12T22:05:00.000-07:00

I am sitting in the aforementioned massage chair, and I just found out that there is a pad in front of the kneaders that is removable . So guess what. I removed it. Now there is a thin strip of fabric between the knots in my back and the kneaders of steel that are rubbing them out. Also, I'm in a thin shirt and nothing else so there is as little obstruction as possible. I take my massage chair-ing very seriously. And I also only take it seriously after everyone has gone to bed and there is no one to walk past and see me without a bra on.

Now to business.
Are any of you girls as qualm-y as I am about getting your hair done? The amount of qualms I have over going to a salon is practically pathetic. So you'll understand why there is only one hair dresser that I truly trust, right? Her name is Alesha and she is a miracle worker. I have gone to her several times over the years and she has always come through. Always. I love what she does every single time, and I'm always feeling happy and bouncy when I walk out of her salon... albeit a few hundred dollars poorer. Which is why I haven't seen her in several years, you see. But this summer, I decided that I deserved to go see Alesha again.

So I did.

And it was glorious. I got to see my good friend Cami, who now works at Alesha's salon, I got my hair cut and colored, I got my head massaged, I smelled glorious hair products for a few hours, and a Brazilian Blowout (which is not a dirty word combo) was explained to me. It was fantastic. And my hair is darker with some lowlights weaved in and out, and I can now curl my hair with a straightener, which is like killing two birds with one hair tool. But I walked away from the salon feeling some uncertainty about a certain salon event. I'll explain.

You know that part of the hair venture, after the dye and toner but before the cut? The wash, darlings. The wash is what I'm referring to. And you know how hairdressers will massage your head during the washing? Oh... that massage. (As you can tell, I have a thing for people willing to rub their fingers on me. I'm not sure if it's a problem or not. And I guess, given my current predicament, that it applies to machines, too.) I just want to let my eyes roll back in my head, let the muscles in my neck go slack, and moan and groan with every twist and turn of my hair dresser's fingers... but I'm not sure if I should. In fact, I feel a little qualm-y (word of the day) about even closing my eyes. As a beautician, how weird must it be to have someone just close their eyes while you rub their head? So I used to just open my eyes and stare straight ahead, never in the beautician's eyes because that's weird and seems inappropriate, but I'd just stare. This time, I tried the closing my eyes thing, but then I had no distractions so I think I enjoyed the head massage too much. GAH. See my problem??
So I need some opinions.
Is it proper to close your eyes and enjoy a head massage?
Or should you not freak out your beautician and just stare straight ahead. Or is that rude, like, you're not massaging my head well enough because my eyes are open, kind of a message?

My life is really confusing right now.

Win-Win-Win

2011-05-30T20:09:00.001-07:00

Have I told you that Bryan and I are living in Southern Utah for the summer? Because that's why I haven't been blogging. I've been enjoying sun, family, and friends (in that order, unfortunately). It's a fantastic change of scenery for both of us, and Bryan is enjoying his internship immensely. I am enjoying re-learning how to dress for warm weather immensely. It's win-win.
Anyway.

The place we are living right now is huge, has a garden, pool, ginormous LCD TV that fits up an entire wall, is impeccably furnished, and is inhabited by my grandmother. Believe it or not, this is also a win-win situation. I cook, I clean, Bryan acts as handyman, and we pay no rent! It rocks my socks.

And as I said, this house is fully furnished. My grandma has the neatest stuff, I just love this house. Even growing up a mile away from it, I still don't know all its secrets. But one perk with which I am very familiar, is this:

Grandma's massage chair.

Are we familiar with the story of my mangled shoulder that hurts so badly it burns most of the time thanks to that one day... that one bloody day I didn't stretch before a tennis match? I'll tell you the story. I didn't stretch before a tennis match. The end. Anyway, this massage chair has lots of options:

You can't see them, but they are rolling, kneading, pointing, tapping, course, leg massage, up/down, width, speed, and stop. I'll just tell you right now, that rolling/kneading are my best friends. You can do them at the same time so the chair kneads your back alllllll the way down and then allllllll the way up. And I sit in the chair with my eyes closed, head back, and pass two hours that way. It's legitimately the best thing ever. Bryan says that if having a chair like this means that I'll never ask him for a massage again (his hands don't work as well as they used to thanks to life-threatening CIDP that he overcame), it means we're buying one.

WIN-WIN-WIN. Massage chairs are wins for everyone involved. So do me a favor. Do yourself a favor. Do your spouses that you constantly hound for back rubs a favor. Move in with your grandmother that has fancy massage chairs.

Deja Vu Number Two

2011-05-26T07:26:00.000-07:00

I know there is more to the world than harping on Hollywood, but by golly, I just am not sure what that is or how I can find further meaning in my life. So until then, I have another deja vu moment for you. Observe:

Comes out in 2011:

Came out in 2003:

I am just sayin... I think even I could write a more original script for a movie that did not include the oh-a-famous-person-looks-exactly-like-me-how-serendipitous story line. Once again, Hollywood.... step it up.

Deja Vu

2011-05-18T11:57:00.000-07:00

There's a show on TV that I think is kinda cool. It's about high school and singing, and you basically can't combine two things that I love more. Unless it's ice cream and singing, but I doubt there would be enough drama about those two things for an entire show to last more than a few episodes. Am I right?
I'd still watch it though.
But what I'm talking about is Glee.

The show Glee, created by Ryan Murphy, staring a bunch of nameless Broadway stars that have since made regular appearances on People.com because I check the style watch section of that website every day, thank you very much.
I don't love Glee. I sort of like it because the music is pretty dang cool, but I believe and have always believed that the storylines are not as strong or convincing as they could be. Now this could be because the show is trying to get me to believe that a 29-year-old is in high school, but that remains to be seen. What I have noticed about the show lately though, is that the writers seem to be grasping at straws to create drama and therefore a story, and are therefore intentionally or unintentionally needlessly repeating events that have already happened. Case:
Kurt (center bottom of the picture) is gay. Whoop-de-doo. The whole first season was focused on him coming out and on how hard his life was and how much persecution and judgement he'd receive, and *yaaaawn*. Nothing new there. But now, the show is not content with Kurt since he is happily gay and accepted, so they created a needless gay conflict with Santana and Krovsky (sp) who are struggling to decide on their sexualities as well. Um, Glee? We've heard it all before. And if, as you say, the show is really set in a small town in Ohio, I sincerely doubt that there would be three gay kids in the same district, let alone in the same school, in the same grade. The gay community makes up less than 1% of the entire population, and yet that's got to be 50% of what the show centers around. Gratuitous much?
Now onto Sue Sylvester (the woman in the center picture). Sue is a person with a chewy, good, nougaty center and a hard, brittle, bitter exterior whose whole purpose in life is to bring the Glee club down. Invariably though, the Glee club comes together with camaraderie and a spirit of fair play and doing good to one's fellow man, and Sue has a change of heart. And I don't even want to count the number of times that exact storyline has been explored in Glee. More times than I care to count and more times than is interesting.
And of course, no drama would be complete without some relationship goings-on. Most notably the love triangle between Rachel (bottom right), Finn (top left), and Quinn (upper middle). Quinn is pretty, Rachel has a huge nose and dresses herself in strange clothing, and Finn is a sensitive jock. Not exactly revolutionary material, Glee. Finn and Quinn are in love, Rachel comes between them, they break up, Finn tries to get Rachel back but she claims to have moved on, Finn waits for her, Rachel and Finn eventually date. That already happened once in the series. But now, Finn has broken up with Quinn to be with Rachel, who is fanning the flame of an old boyfriend that she dated after Finn and Quinn broke up for the first time and Finn was trying to get her back. Wow, I sound like an idiot just reiterating that, and it's about as fun to watch happen as it is to recall. And it's happening all. over. again. GAH.
And of course, we have the ever-present competition to become the best singer in Glee. And before I even go back to my point of this being set in a small town in Ohio and are there really so many great and attractive singers in Ohio? controversy, let's just state the obvious. Rachel is the best singer. Ryan Murphy called her a "once-in-a-millenium" find, and she gets every solo because she can wail like none other, even if she does have a beak sitting underneath her eyes and above her lips. There have already been numerous episodes about the singers trying to out-diva one another and prove that they're really the best instead of other members, and blah blah blah blah BLAH. No one cares. We all know Rachel is the best girl singer, and that Finn is the best guy singer, and that they're going to get more solos than anyone else, regardless of how often Mercedes (black chick), Santana, and Kurt try to prove otherwise.

So here's my point: Glee is getting to the point where it's not even fun to watch anymore. I'd almost rather just YouTube the song performances the day after the episode airs because I can probably piece together the storyline myself, and make it more interesting, just from watching the songs.
Oh, and I haven't even mentioned the Mr. Shuester/Emma impossible-yet-inevitable romance that they're revisiting. AGAIN.
Time to pick it up, Ryan Murphy. And for the love of all things good and green on this planet, come up with some new material.

How You Doin'?

2011-05-16T22:56:00.001-07:00

So... anyone remember Sanjaya from American Idol a few years ago? Simon hated him, but somehow he made it to the final four or something? I still remember Simon's nicest comment toward him: "I didn't hate you tonight." Whew! Anyway, (bragging moment coming up) my cousin is Sanjaya's new guitarist for his tour this summer and I thought I'd post this video of a talk show that he played on today. It's pretty radical, dude. My favorite part? "Wow, he's cute!" Thanks, show host that should cut down on morning coffee. Thanks.

And ladies? He's single. And 6'5. Because height matters.

Les Fleurs, Part Deux

2011-05-10T21:53:00.000-07:00

I have always been a very direct person.

Literally.

My mouth has very little, if any, filter. If my brain thinks it, my mouth says it, and then instead of worrying about the consequences and how people feel about my opinions, I choose another path called "not caring." It's fantastic.

It has gotten me into trouble before (like when I wrote in my final paper of the semester that I had no desire ever to travel to South Asia in a class about South Asian literature taught by a South Asian professor), but I don't mind. I'm happy saying what I mean and meaning what I say and being truthful 100% (Dr. Seuss's tenses rhyme better than mine). Of course, this trait of mine that my husband loves so much, especially when we're in large groups, was inherited. If you ever wonder where I get it, listen to my dad talk for roughly 30 seconds, and then things will suddenly click for you.
So when I heard a bunch of my friends talking about the hideous things that happen before, during, and after childbirth, I decided I wanted something for Mother's Day. Not because I am a mother, not because I have immediate plans to become a mother, but because someday, someday, I am going to be a mother. And therefore, I must be rewarded for it immediately. Why? Ice diapers specifically made for womens' throbbing nether regions, that's why.
That's why, on Friday, I said to Bryan, "Bryan, I want flowers for Mothers' Day."
And Bryan said, "But you're not a mother."
And I said, "No, but someday I'm gonna be, so I want flowers now."

And when I woke up on Mother's Day, these flowers were in my vase, because Bryan had bought them the day before and I had cut them and arranged them ever so pleasantly.

Aren't they pretty? They're so purpley and yellowy and springy, and they just make me happy.
I am grateful to have a husband that doesn't question certain petty indulgences. I'm also grateful to have a husband that has agreed not to go anywhere near the end of the table in the delivery room while I'm in labor.
Ew.

Thanks for the flowers, babe!

Wanted Dead or Alive

2011-05-08T17:42:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure what happened to the lovely tradition of "dead week" , but could someone in the upper levels of the government please bring it back?? I always thought dead week was the one week during the school year when professors weren't allowed to assign any homework, because the week was dead and dead things can't be doing homework, right?

Maybe I have that wrong.

But even though I'm pretty sure it's the university policy not to have any homework assigned during dead week, I had
- 1 oral final
- 1 final paper
- 1 final presentation
- another final paper
- and another final paper
all due. ALL DUE.

Needless to say, that's where the majority of my brain power has been focused for the last little while. So obviously, other areas have been somewhat lacking. Like the go-shopping-and-make-food areas. I can't count the number of times I have gone to the refrigerator or pantry this week, opened the door excitedly, and then closed it sadly because there was nothing edible. Bryan, too. He often comes home and says, "Do we have anything to eat?" Usually, I'll say, "Go look," because I'm a very attentive wife, but this week I've been saying, "Nope. Go to Wendy's."
So this would explain why, exactly, I found myself at Papa Murphy's last night staring at their menu board. I don't think PM employees like to see me pull into the parking lot. Here's why:
Employee: "Hi, how can I help you?"
Me: "Okay, I want the gourmet vegetarian pizza, except I want it with the thick crust instead of the regular, and I don't want the garlic sauce, I want the marinara sauce, and can you add... pepperoni and sausage? My husband needs meat on stuff or he won't eat it. But I'll just pull all the sausage off my pieces, so why don't you add sausage to just half of the pizza. Oh, and can you decrease the amount of cheese you put on this pizza by about 50%? There always seems to be an abundance of cheese that melts in my oven and spills and burns the next time I cook. Oh, and I have a $3.00 off coupon."
Employee: *head explodes*

A Bit O' An Understatement, Govn'a!

2011-05-03T20:15:00.000-07:00

Has anyone seen that episode of Family Guy where Peter gets a segment on the nighttime news called "What Grinds My Gears"? I can't find a good video of it on YouTube or I'd post one. Anyway, this is a version of what grinds Sara's gears.

Old timey movies. We all like them. And there are some relatively fantastic ones on there in the movie world, right? Some of the most critically acclaimed movies have come from inspiration about medieval times, or even pre-medieval. I myself like a good period film. If you want a nice little compiled list of said films, Wikipedia has you covered. Wikipedia rarely does not have you covered. Anyway, onto what bothers me.
Why do movie directors believe that anytime they are filming a period movie, they must have the actors speak in a British accent? Why? I'm pretty sure British accents as we know them didn't really evolve until maybe 200 years ago. So anything pre-1800s should not, therefore, be spoken in a traditional, obviously faked British accent. Let's look at the facts:
Britons settled America, right? So the people that came to America in the 1600s and 1700s must have talked exactly like the people in England. So over the course of 300-400 years, our languages have evolved to the point that you almost need a dictionary to understand the limeys. (Not really. I exaggerated that point.) So if that's the case, then why in the world would movie directors believe that actors taking on a fake British accent by default made the movie old-timey? It maketh no sense.

Let's look at some examples.

Prince of Persia, set a few millennia ago. A shirtless Jake Gyllenhall, a mythical sand glass that controls time, and some awesome stunts. And... the entire cast speaking in British accents. Wha..... Firstly, ancient Persia was located in Iran. That's in the middle east. The middle east is nowhere near England. If anything, the cast should have been talking in fake Iranian accents, of course. Ba-zing! Next:

King Arthur, set in the 6th century. A smoldering Clive Owen, a mostly naked Kiera Knightly, and an interesting take on an old tale. Now, I don't know where exactly the cinematographers were portraying the story to take place, but I do know that it involves Romans and Sarmatians, a race of people living in Iran during the Roman conquest. And what accent is everyone speaking in? British. While it makes sense for Kiera Knightley's character as well as Merlin, no one else were really British people so... bad choice, Mr. Director. Next:

Gladiator! A tortured Russel Crowe, an incest-obsessed Jaquin Phoenix, and some awesome Colosseum effects. Where was the Colosseum built? Oh yeah. ROME. What country is Rome located in? Italy. What language to the Italians speak? Italian. What accent are the actors portraying? British. If anything, they should be talking like New York mobsters from Italian families, which would seem more realistic, but once again, the director was under the impression that since it was a period drama, it automatically necessitated a British accent. See where I'm going with all of this? Next:

Clash of the Titans. A revengeful Sam Worthington, an ethereal Gemma Arteron, and some mythological crossovers (Djinn and Greek gods? Hmm...). Set in Ancient Greece, this play takes place in... Greece. Grecians do not speak with British accents now, so I'm guessing they most definitely did not speak with British accents during the time of Zeus. And yet, the characters are speaking in British accents. Except for Sam Worthington, who retains his Aussie accent, which creates even more confusion. Why, Hollywood? Why?

Now that I have sufficiently made my point, I expect all future movies set in old times to portray the correct accents, even if the characters are speaking English. And since I know all of Hollywood's main streamers follow my personal thoughts closely, we can expect a sliver more of historical accuracy, because that's what is important in films: accuracy.

Not.

Not Sour Grapes

2011-04-30T23:50:00.000-07:00

I know that this is the most common thread of my blog, and perhaps my fanbase is tired of reading about it, but I just have to reiterate:
My husband is the best.

A few weeks ago, he and I were in Sandpoint, ID for him to teach a concealed weapons class. . After the class was over, he and I went to dinner. Since we had never been to Sandpoint before, we decided to try one of the local, unique places that Sandpoint had to offer. Bryan let me choose. He often lets me choose. It's very rare that I don't get to choose something, except for when it comes to guns or how many fashion magazine subscriptions is too much. So I picked this place:

Yes. Ivano's Ristorante and Caffe. (No idea how to pronounce either of those words.) It had gotten great reviews online, and I love Italian food. Every time I eat bread and pasta and potatoes in the same meal, I tell Bryan I am climbing Mount St. Carb. He laughed the first six times I said that, but now he just rolls his eyes. I eat bread and pasta and potatoes in the same meal quite often, you see.
And may I say that climbing Mount St. Carb was delicious? I got this pollo (or "chicken") meal that was stuffed with some Italian stuff and it was the most delicious restaurant meal I have ever had. (Except for filet mignon at the Capitol Grille in DC. But I digress.) Bryan and I also ate our way through three and a half baskets of bread. The pollo took a while to cook, and as long as the waiter was willing to refill our bread basket, we were willing to continue shoveling it in our mouths. We're very refined.
But my favorite part about this restaurant, my absolute favorite part was the olive oil/balsamic vinegar dispensers on each table. I don't even know how to describe these wonderful contraptions, but I'll try.
The oil and the vinegar get to be in the same container, but it has two spouts and the balsamic vinegar is kept separate from the oil so the diner can control his or her oil to vinegar ratio without having to pick up more than one container. It's brilliant and looks SO fancy. The closest photo I could find on the internet was this:

but the one at Ivano's was so much cooler because the balsamic vinegar part was shaped like a bunch of grapes. It was seriously so rad.
Well imagine my surprise when I opened the door yesterday and there was a package waiting for me. Well actually, it was addressed to Bryan, but I opened it and it's not a felony, because he gave me express verbal confirmation that I could open his mail at any given time. (We're married.) So I opened this package, and to my surprise....

lo and behold, my very own oil and vinegar grape disposer!!! I was so excited. Bryan swears he told me he ordered me one, but if he did I forgot, so it was a fabulous surprise and made my entire day.
I just love that Bryan saw how much I liked it and then bought me one of my very own.
I am seriously in love with that man.

Off To Make More Gooey, Cheesy, And Uncomfortable-For-Anyone-That-Isn't-Me-Or-Bryan Statements,
Sara

Disregard This

2011-04-28T14:33:00.000-07:00

This is not a blog post, I am just putting this on for easy access for a class.

Afghan Women

Bibi Aisha

The end.

That Shouldn't Be There...

2011-04-26T22:01:00.000-07:00

There are just some things you don't want to hear a doctor say, am I right? Like, "Hmm, that shouldn't be there," or, "Well that looks weird," or, "Forty years in the medical profession and I haven't seen this before!"
Fortunately for me, that last statement rang beautifully in my ears at my doctor's appointment today.

See, I have this weird thing on my head. My skull right behind my right ear is cracked, and I can't remember it not being cracked. You can literally feel the crack by running your fingers over where my skull protrudes behind my ear, and it's definitely not normal. I got a new exercise regimen a while ago and have been trying (and failing, what with finals coming up and all) to do it regularly. I was doing a cardio resistance video the other day and there was a lot of jumping going on, so for one exercise, I jumped and came down a lot harder than I intended to. Sorry, knees. Anyway, the little crack behind my ear, of which I am so fond, twinged really bad when I came down and it's been causing me pain ever since, especially when I exercise or bend over or do normal living person things. So I made an appointment with a doctor to get it looked at and she spent about fifteen minutes examining my head, first one side and then the other, and at first she said, "Oh, there's a weird protuberance there." Then she said, "Hmm, that's not normal." Then she said, "Okay, now I feel the crack. It runs kind of horizontal, right?" And then, "Forty years in the medical profession, and this is a first."

Yay for being unique!
Not.

Then she went out of the room to figure out what to do with me, since she didn't really know how to proceed, and she came back with an anatomy book. She showed me a picture kind of like this.

See when we're born, our heads have to be squeezed out of places they don't really fit, right? So our skull, thankfully for our mothers, can move around a little bit and get through that birth canal. The bones aren't fused together to allow for growth and where they DO fuze together is called a suture. As you can see, we have a lot.

So the doctor thinks that the suture behind my ear (whatever the heck it may be called) fused together wrong. It's this suture riiiiight here.

Of course, we have all sorts of nerves and muscles and tendons that attach to our bones, so the weird shape of my skull is causing strain on the muscles and nerves surrounding it. She thinks that when I jumped and landed hard, the muscles on my neck were too tight, which caused too much of a strain on that little problematic area.

Now for my favorite part:
The doctor doesn't want to do surgery, because what doctor wants to jump into that? No doctor. So she said that I could take some measures right here at home to make sure that the muscles on my neck are loose enough not to cause strain anymore. The prescription?
Doctor: "Do you have a partner?"
Me: "Um... do you mean husband? Because I have one of those."
Doctor: "Yes, you need to have him give you neck massages daily to keep those muscles nice and loose."
Me: "Is that an official prognosis?"
Doctor: "You used 'prognosis' incorrectly, but yes, it's official."
Me: "I've been waiting my whole life to hear those words!"

So now my husband has to give me daily neck massages because the doctor said so.
HA!
Aside from the annoying pain in my head, I am loving this.

I Get Free Massages For Life,
Sara

P.S. I don't mean to be a Debbie Downer, but I feel like I have a lot of abnormal weird things happen to me a lot. Anyone remember my nerve problem? And now a head problem after it hasn't even been a year? Sheesh. I'm ready for my body to behave normally again.

Bouncy, Trouncy, Flouncy, Pouncy, Fun Fun Fun Fun Fun!

2011-04-24T22:43:00.000-07:00

I have a lot of homework to do.

An inordinate amount, really.

But I'm going to blog before I finish it, because... I want to. End of story.

An Important List: A Guide To Shopping With Husbands, by Sara

1. Go shopping alone.
2. See the amazing deals at Old Navy.
3. Shop for a good hour.
4. Buy clothes for self.
5. Vow to the checker that you will be bringing your husband back after dinner.
6. Go to dinner, slightly late, because you were shopping.
7. Have a good time.
8. Ask nicely to drive home from the restaurant.
9. Drive to the mall instead.
10. Laugh maniacally at your own brilliance and trickery.
11. March husband by the arm into Old Navy and command him to look for clothes.
12. Lose sight of him. Three times.
13. Find him. Three times.
14. Get increasingly more frustrated.
15. Give husband a quarter for the bouncy ball machine located in the children's section.
16. Watch husband buy bouncy ball.
17. Shop happily and contentedly with the peace of mind that comes from knowing that as long as your husband has a bouncy ball, he'll stay by your side, happily bouncing, while you pick out clothes for him.

This is a patented 17-step program. Please do not copy or use without written permission. Usage in the proper order with proper written consent is guaranteed for at least a 90-minute trip of uninterrupted and fairly uncontested shopping. This has been a paid advertisement.

Let The Chips Fall Where They May

2011-04-19T17:19:00.000-07:00

It's funny to look back now and see how naive I was before I got married.
I assumed Bryan and I would like all the same things!

Charmin toilet paper over generic, tucking in the sheets so you feel like you're in a straight jacket, shopping, the list goes on. But where we differ the most is in one of the most important areas of my life.

Chocolate chip cookies.

I'm not even kidding. I grew up knowing that my dad made the best chocolate chip cookies in the world, and that someday, I'd get to make the best chocolate chip cookies in the world, simply because I have half of his DNA. It's science, right? I've made chocolate chip cookies for Bryan for the last two years, and I assumed that he loved them as much as I did. Oh, how I was wrong...
See, Bryan has a serious problem. He doesn't like milk chocolate. !!!! Seriously? How could a person not like milk chocolate? I have no idea how his tastes evolved, but it's definitely an issue. And me? I love, love, love milk chocolate. Love. So of course, I buy milk chocolate chips for our cookies.
Bryan confessed his mortal sin of not loving milk chocolate to me a few weeks ago, so I bought a huge (read: 72 oz.) bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips last time I was at Costco. They insult my tongue. But apparently Bryan likes them, so when I made chocolate chip cookies on Sunday night, I divided the dough in half, added 1.5 cups of milk chocolate chips to my divine, set apart, chosen dough, and 1.5 cups of semi-sweet chocolate chips to Bryan's sad and forsaken dough. And this is what we had:

You'll notice that the cookies on the right side of the picture have much bigger (and by design, better and tastier) chocolate chips, and that the cookies on the right have smaller, more numerous (almost bacteria-like) chocolate chips. *shudder*

So I guess this is my life now. Dividing cookie dough and adding two different types of chocolate chips.

What's great about being a woman and future mother though, is that I get to train my children to eat whatever types of food I choose. They'll be getting:
-Skim milk instead of 2% (or liquid glue)
-Milk chocolate instead of semi-sweet or dark (heaven forbid)
-Syrup with artificial sweetener so when they eat the real stuff, they'll get sugar-induced headaches and their dad will feel sorry for them and not buy Mrs. Butterworth's anymore
-Our children will eat fish, chicken, beef, venison, and every other type of meat except for: pork. That way they'll hate it and Bryan will eventually get disenchanted with it as well.

They'll love bacon, though. Boy, will they ever love bacon!

And I'll teach them to make chocolate chip cookies the right way.
Take that, Bryan's idiosyncrasies!

Weather

2011-04-18T17:58:00.000-07:00

I need everyone to look take a look at the weather forecast for me today and feel reeeeeeeeeeally bad, okay?

Pity me!

And this is the weather for where we'll be in a few weeks.

Sigh.......

Anti-Sinus

2011-04-13T17:04:00.001-07:00

I have a sinus infection.

PubMedHealth discribes sinus infections as:
-Inflammation of the sinuses that occurs with a viral, bacterial, or fungal infection.
To be perfectly honest, I was fine until I read the word "fungal". Gross.

PubMedHealth describes sinusitis symptoms as:
-*Bad breath or loss of smell
-Cough, often worse at night
-***Fatigue and generally not feeling well
-Fever
-*Headache -- pressure-like pain, pain behind the eyes, toothache, or facial tenderness
-*Nasal congestion and discharge
-*Sore throat and postnasal drip

I put stars by my symptoms to make your visual experience more encompassing. "Fatigue" gets three stars because I'm generally exhausted these days. Woh woh woh....
By the way, let's take a vote on which phrase is more disgusting: A) Runny nose or B) Postnasal drip.

So I went to the doctor, and he did this:
-Looking in the nose for signs of polyps
-Shining a light against the sinus (transillumination) for signs of inflammation
-Tapping over a sinus area to find infection

Then I told him I had self-diagnosed by using this:
-Over-the-counter spray nasal decongestants
for several weeks.

Then he told me this:
-Be careful with over-the-counter spray nasal decongestants. They may help at first, but using them for more than 3 - 5 days can actually worsen nasal congestion.

Whoops.

Then he prescribed me some of these:
-Antibiotics

Take that, biotics! I'm going to be feeling better in six days!

I win.
And more importantly, modern medicine wins.
But most importantly, my sinuses (sines?) lose.

Cuisinart Giveaway!

2011-04-13T09:30:00.000-07:00

Hey guys, head on over to Recipe Lion for a chance to win this!

It's a Cuisinart SmartPower 15-Piece Compact Portable Blending/Chopping System, and we could all use a little extra help in the kitchen!

To enter: go HERE and fill out the form at the bottom.
Good luck to everyone! Invite me over for dinner if you win!

Lather, Rinse, DON'T REPEAT

2011-04-12T16:51:00.000-07:00

I realize that I am oftentimes the last person to arrive at the New Beauty Products Parties, but I eventually make it, albeit quite a bit more than fashionably late.
Kind of like church.

Anyway, Bryan and I were in Spokane this weekend. Bryan wanted new jeans, and I just wanted to shop. It's kind of compulsory with me. So as luck would have it, we found ourselves parked right outside this store in Spokane:

What are the odds, right? So naturally, we had to go in.
I had been wanting some dry shampoo for a while. Everyone else in the world probably knows what it is already (read: last to arrive at New Beauty Products Parties) but if you don't, allow me to explain.
Dry shampoo comes in a canister, looking kind of like hairspray, but it sprays out powder instead. This magical powder goes on your roots (hold bottle 6-8 inches away, please) and absorbs the oil that your scalp naturally secretes that makes you look like you wash your hair with Crisco. And you end up with healthy, clean-looking, shiny hair that is maleable! Whoo! The products actually say that it's for "freshening your hair between washes", but let's face it. This product makes it so we don't have to wash our hair anymore! Instead of the time-consuming activity of scrubbing and lathering and conditioning, just wrap your hair in a towel, shower, and skip the blowdrying, straightening or curling, and styling.
It's like the Staple's Easy button of hair products. Except even better.

So I am currently testing two products. The first is Batiste. It got fantastic reviews on Amazon. I got the original kind instead of the "Blush" kind, which has a girly smell to it instead of a clean smell. Plus it came with a free 1.6oz travel-size, TSA friendly!

The second kind I got was Pssssst! Yeah, not the most original of product titles, but I'm rolling with it. The girl at the store with the sparkly silver eyeliner recommended it to me, and if you can take advice from anyone, it's definitely girls wearing sparkly silver eyeliner that work at beauty supply chains.

So that is my latest beauty (or more accurately, procrastination and time-saving albeit less hygienic) product. So far, I'm liking Psssst! better, and I'll give you an update on which one allows me to go the longest without washing my hair.
Hooray, modern inventions!

Les Fleurs

2011-04-10T20:13:00.000-07:00

I've been feeling very crafty and springy lately. No, the weather has not warmed up. No, the sun has not peeked its eyes through the clouds to say hello. No, the flowers have not opened their little buds to welcome spring, because spring doesn't happen in the inland Northwest. That's right. This place has two seasons. Fall and winter.
I hate my life.

Okay, that was an exaggeration.

But I really do not like this place right now.
So since the outside of my house has been so depressing, I have been doing a lot of crafts lately to make it feel brighter and happier.
I found this flower idea off of my friend Paige's Mom's blog. Check it out, she's amazing.

Me and my trusty Michael's 40% off coupon went and got the supplies, which weren't much. Just fake flowers, styrofoam balls, and vases. And look how cute it ended up!!

I had to go back to Michael's to get more fake tulips because they stand up and don't cover much area once they are glued, but the bunches were $0.79 each so it wasn't bad at all!

Here's a closeup. Don't look too closely at my hot glue job because I'm not the most methodical when it comes to glueing... as my poor, mangled, blistered fingertips can attest.

And who's that cute couple in the picture in front of the flowers??? They are adorable!
And the man behind he flowers? Even though he constantly moves them out of his way so he can work on the table, I love him! He's sexy.

Work It, And Work It!

2011-04-08T23:03:00.001-07:00

I want to tell you a fun story about how I have the best husband ever.

See, there is this neat little thing called cellulite that has taken up residence on my thighs. And this neat little thing called cardiovascular health that I'm concerned about. And this little thing called exercise that I never do.

What can I say? It's cold near Canada. Freezing, actually. And it rarely changes, so my temperament rarely changes from severely annoyed coupled with a refusal to change out of my sweats, leave the house, and brave the elements to, I don't know... go for a neat little jog.
It's gotten so bad that I don't even want to leave the house to brave the cold for the 45 seconds it takes to walk from my car to the gym.
I'm a lizard. Cold-blooded, which means that if I get cold, I can't warm up, so I die. I actually prefer life.

So I decided indoor exercise is the way to go, but the only videos I have in the way of exercise include a dance video that I feel like an idiot while doing, and a tae-bo video that I also feel like an idiot while doing. Both of these I picked up at a discount store having done no research. I just thought, "Hey! Four bucks I want to part with!" and bought them.

This time, however, I have carefully researched an exercise program and thought long and hard before purchasing. So long, in fact, that Bryan began to wonder if I was ever going to bite the bullet and make the investment. I told him I wanted to wait for a few more paychecks before I purchased it, save up, as it were.
Then one night, I looked at my thighs in the mirror and thought, "That's it. Enough." And I made the purchase online that night.

The next morning, Bryan woke me up with a kiss on the cheek and said, "Guess what I bought online for you!"
I smiled/grimaced and said, "The -------- exercise program?"
He grinned and said, "Yes! Aren't you so excited?!"
And I said, "Yes! Especially since I bought it for myself last night! But thank you for thinking of me and being so sweet!"

And that's the story of how I have the best husband and how telling your husband that you bought yourself something can save you a lot of money in your marriage. I loved how sweetly he tried to surprise me. I am married to a fantastic man.

Thank goodness for lenient return policies!

Frigid Tender

2011-04-04T17:53:00.000-07:00

I have only one thing to discuss today. It is as follows:

I have a cold sore on the inside of my nose.
That's right. Clear up the ol' right nostril.
May I just say... OUCH!

Sometimes I get ingrown hairs inside my nose. It's unpleasant, to say the least. My nose is tender until I manage to turn the offending nostril inside out and squeeze the struggling hair from its pus-filled prison. (TMI? I'm grossing myself out here. I think it might be TMI.)

The right side of my nose has been exceptionally tender for the past couple of days, so I figured, "Great. Now I have to free the stuck hair from its pus-filled prison."
After what I know now, I would gladly take a pus-filled hair prison. I'm going to use that phrase as much as I can, yes.

When I got home today, I decided I had had enough with the pain, skipped upstairs to the bathroom, sat in the sink prepared with tweezer and pin, and went to town.
"Going to town" on my nose usually includes contorting it in such a way that would make Houdini say, "Whoa, there. Calm down," in order to find the best method of removal. But I noticed that instead of a little bump, there was a space about a pinky nail width in diameter of what looked like white growth of some kind. I poked and prodded a bit, trying to decide the best method of removal, when it hit me: COLD SORE. And it all made sense! Very painful sense!

Excuse me while I go shove Carmex up my nasal cavity.

An Assignment

2011-04-03T20:40:00.000-07:00

Yes, I really get graded for writing stuff like this. And yes, I have got the world's coolest major.
*Disclaimer: I really do love Justin Bieber. Love his music. Saw the movie. Bought his album off iTunes.

An Open Letter to Justin Bieber, Or As I Like To Call You, Biebs

Dear Justin Bieber, Or As I Like To Call You, Biebs—

I love you. There, I’ve said it. Now the whole world knows. And guess what? I don’t care. I love you, I’m in love, and I don’t care who knows it.
Of course, you shouldn’t be worrying yourself with the fact that I’ve been married for two years. My husband and I have a very open relationship. And by open, I mean, we’ve allowed each other one celebrity crush. If he ever gets the chance to sleep with Rachel McAdams, he’s going to take it, and I’m fine with that. And, Biebs, it’s time. It’s time you knew that you’re my celebrity one-and-only.
Maybe I should confess to you, since all good relationships start out with honesty and trust, that you weren’t always my celebrity one-and-only. There was once a time, back before you had hit puberty or sold out Madison Square Gardens, when I was promised to become the next Mrs. Brad Pitt. He and I had a moment, back in 2009. I was working for a Congressman on Capitol Hill, and he was in DC while Angelina filmed Salt (which wasn’t fantastic, I wouldn’t recommend it) and had a meeting with the Speaker of the House. I’ll never forget how our eyes met as we passed each other in the Capitol’s rotunda… He was on his way to Nancy Pelosi’s office surrounded by bodyguards, and I, along with every reporter and female intern in Washington, DC, was casually stalking him. But it’s over, dearest darling. It was over the second he ignored my twenty-four letters requesting that he shave that awful, frizzy goatee that reached his clavicle.
I suppose there’s another issue we should address: your age. You were born March 1, 1994 (which is extremely universal knowledge, so don’t look at me like that). I was born ------ -- 19--, which makes us a little over five years apart. But if Ashton and Demi can pull it off, I see no reason that our illicit relations shouldn’t continue. Or start, for that matter. At least once you turn 18, which is in 272 days, in case you were wondering.
While I expect our relationship to be a fulfilling and rewarding one, I’m not under any impression that it will be perfect. I’m sure you’ve heard of my height idiosyncrasy—the one that prohibited me from dating any guy shorter than I am? Seeing as I’ve got you by three inches, you’d think it might pose a problem, but like any good pre-girlfriend, I have already researched the solution. Andre Agassi wore inserts in his shoes when he was married to Brooke Shields, and I’m confident that what worked for one celebrity couple will work for another. And besides, most guys don’t stop growing until they’re 21 so the inserts won’t last forever. If all else fails, we could always inject you with the growth hormone KFC gives its chickens. If nothing else, you’ll end up with fantastic pectorals.
Are you wondering yet how our love began? I know, it feels like we’ve known each other forever. I guess I knew I loved you the first time I heard “Baby” on the radio. “And I was like, baby, baby, baby, oh. Like, baby, baby, baby, no. Like, baby, baby, baby, oh.” Biebs, your words just spoke to me. Then I spent a few hours at work Googleing your address, family history, blood type, started following you on Twitter, and I guess the rest is history. By the way, I’m username Mrs.Beibz69XOXO<3.
So I guess this is where I’ll end things for now. I’m counting the days until March 1, 2012, when we can openly declare our love without me getting arrested for statutory rape. Until then, I’ll be dreaming of you, and putting bids in on eBay for the locks of hair that you’re selling for charity.
Love always and forever,
Your biggest fan and future lover,
Sara

If This Were A Craft Blog...

2011-04-03T00:13:00.000-07:00

No one would read it. Honestly. If I dedicated myself solely to crafting and documenting, I would fail miserably as a blogger, as opposed to the massive success and fame and glory and name I have thus made for myself.

I'm a decent crafter. Decent. Not good or enviable by any stretch of the imagination. My crafting abilities are limited to: being a copy cat. I see things that creative people come up with on their own, and then I take their ideas. End of story. But even then, I am not guaranteed success. Case in point:

A few nights ago, I had some time to kill, and had seen a very cute thing I decided I needed to try, so as to Easter-ify our home a bit. So I ran to the craft store, picked up the supplies I thought I needed, and happily made my way home, envisioning the glorious crafts with which I was sure to outdo myself. (Pff.)

This was the inspiration:

And this was my sad and sorry attempt at recreation:

I know exactly where I went wrong, too.
The buttons. Obviously.
Auntie Lolo had a plethora of buttons from which to choose already at her house! (Read her blog post here.) I, on the other hand, do not have a button collection. And I found myself beginning to wonder how people amass button collections. Do people cut buttons off of their clothes before donating or throwing away? Do people pick up buttons on the street as they would quarters? Is there a holiday tradition of button-giving that I am unaware of?? I even remember my mother's button collection that I would gleefully dump out as a child, and a gallon ziploc baggie would hardly hold the hoard! (<--alliteration.) Mom, from whence came the buttons? My life won't be complete until I know.

So as you can see, Auntie Lolo had a lot of teeny tiny pink buttons to choose from that helped her shape her egg much more effectively than I. I had to go to the store and buy buttons. And then, because my depth perception is completely off, I decided I needed some large buttons. So I got five. And now those five of my brand-spankin-new buttons take up approximately 90% of the picture's area, throwing off the shape of the egg completely!
I am not despairing, however. I am going to scrap this attempt, and pry all of the buttons off and begin anew on a new 5x7 piece of burlap. I'm going to march right on back to the craft store, find as many small pink buttons as I can fit in a shopping cart, and I will have an egg craft that looks like an egg, mark my words. Mark my words.

I guess that means I'll have the makings of my very own pink button collection when all is said and done.
Button crafts=button collections. Who knew??

*Thank you for not mentioning the fact that my egg picture is off center and crooked. My crafting self esteem is grateful.*