Seven Things...

I was tagged by Allie at My Wardrobe Today to do a meme about seven things that no one knows about me. As I am pretty open, I figure you know most things about me--hell, you know my size, my favorite stores, what I do, that I like to pole dance, and that I perhaps spend a little too much time thinking about Britney Spears. However, I have been racking my brain over the last little bit and came up with some things about myself that someone might find interesting...

1) One of my very favorite bands is Bon Jovi. And not even in an ironic, "Oh ha ha, they're so bad they're good" way. I freaking love them. I have all the songs on my ipod, and I know every word to most of them. When I'm feeling poor and broke down, it takes one chorus of Livin' On a Prayer to perk me up. I still think that if Matt did something totally horrible to me, all he would have to do is turn on Always and I'd be putty in his hands (lord, I hope he doesn't read this). I adore them. And nothing they ever do will change that.

2) Another guilty pleasure...I love "bad" food. And by "bad," I don't necessarily mean fatty foods, although I can always go for a few Cheetos. By bad, I mean processed, day-glo food that comes from the interior of the regular grocery store, and that any self-respecting chef wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. This is strange, because if you know me, you know that one of the two things I pride myself on is my cooking ability. I love cookbooks, and I often will read a good one like a novel. But still--I need little more than a white trash casserole, some canned peas and a grape soda to make me happy. In fact, I made a particularly nice white trash casserole out of my leftover Thanksgiving turkey (three cans of condensed soup!) that I am dying to have a bite of when I get home. Now, another reason why this is something that few people know about me is that I don't indulge in it very often. Mostly I shop at a small organic market or at the farmer's market. We often only pick up a few naughty essentials at Target, and even then I buy things that my kids like and that I won't touch. However, sometimes I do it on the down low. Hence my "turkey tetrazzini" made with cream of chicken, cream of mushroom, and cream of celery and topped with a layer of cheddar cheese. Oh, and my favorite Jello salad with blueberries!!!! YUMMM. Also, I LOVE me some Chef Boyardee ravioli. I could eat it for every meal. And now I want some more...

3. I am double jointed. I can do all kinds of weird things--make my arms and legs look like they are broken by popping out my joints, bend my thumb back to touch my forearm, arch my back to strange shapes. Interestingly, this is one thing that brought my husband and me together. I flirtingly told him when we were "talking" on the phone one night that I was a human pretzel (told ya I was a teenage slut). He had some friends at his house, and as soon as he got off the phone he told them. One of his friends goes, "Dude, you've got to hit that! Ask her out!" He did, and he hit it, and the rest is history.

4. Intervention is probably my favorite show. I don't think I've told anyone that. I love my junkies! And who could forget the awesome catch phrases from that show--from "I WANT MY BAYBEEZZZ!" to "BURL!"--it's just a whole bunch of awesome.

5. I am a sorry ass housekeeper. Which is weird, because dirty houses freak me out, and I get all anxiety filled when mine is dirty, but at the same time, I am just not that good at keeping it from getting that way. I have even bought books about cleaning, but I just can't really do it. I'm just not that organized, I guess.

6. As a kid, I was once stalked. Fo rizzle. Unbeknownst to my mom, I sent my picture and a brief description of myself into Tiger Beat magazine for the purpose of procuring pen pals, and because of my charming wit, it got published. I got a ton of people writing me--and they weren't all 12 year old girls with an unrequited love of JTT. I got one letter from a mental institution in New York that talked about wanting to "poo poo and pee pee" with me. I got a picture of a 35 year old man holding a teddy bear and making a pouty face. Then on Valentine's Day, I got this humongo Vermont Teddy Bear complete with petit fours and truffles. My mom assumed that my dad got it for me (my dad is a fan of the exorbitant gift every now and again), so she picked it up at the post office and let me eat the candy. My dad called the next day and I thanked him for the bear...only to find out he didn't send it. Some investigation proved that it was sent by an anonymous guy with the inscription "Because I Love You." Freaky.... I wonder if that guy still pines for me.... If he comes back and murders me soon, that would be a great Law and Order SVU. But it would suck if I died and I didn't get to see Chris Melon's face any more.

7. I once had a crush on a balding midget. Let's not go into that one.

Hope you enjoyed this! I'll post something fashiony soon.

Back with a Rush

First off, I want to thank everyone who commented or emailed me tips on how to get out of my funk. I definitely took some time to rest, eat salads, and flush out my system with a bunch of water. I also became friendly with the Comcast On Demand Yoga selections--really fun (thanks, Ally, for the yoga recommendation--I think I'm going to keep it up). I don't feel perfect now, but it is a great improvement. And I can zip my jeans! Yea! Again, thank you to everyone. You guys rock!

Anyway, I'm back with a vengeance today, wearing a cord pencil skirt and my 4 inch platform heels (they just have a little platform--no 70's style shoes). And I'm doing a product review. Today I'll be talking about Benefit's Rush Hour which is a stick of product that works for both cheeks and lips. I'm normally not taken in by multifunctioners, but I read about this in Working Mother magazine, and it seemed like a good bet. I've actually had it for a little while now, but sadly, it got thrown in the bottom of my make-up case, and I only unearthed it fairly recently. And a good thing too! Because of a change in my family's schedule (my husband has a new job), our mornings have gotten increasingly crazy. Now, instead of leisurely driving my daughter to school, and then heading off to work, I find myself dressing both kids, finding shoes/socks/library books/toothbrushes for each, walking my son to preschool, then walking back and driving my daughter to school. Then I drive myself to work, battling traffic and the urge to take a Starbucks break all the way. It's tough, especially since my husband and I often linger in bed, taking advantage of the quietness and lack of stress before heading off to the shower. So I've been doing my make up in the car. Now, this isn't as dangerous/horrible as it sounds. My daughter's school has the single most idiotic traffic situation in the world, mostly because whoever designed the school thought that we were going to fly our children in on hovercraft. There is one tiny road leading to the school, with one tiny little circle for parents to utilize to drop kids off or pick them up. Since there are no buses or mass transportation, every single parent who has a kid there is there every morning. What's worse, the thing leads out to a busy thoroughfare with no stop light, so getting out is a hassle to say the least. Needless to say, I'm usually stuck there for quiet a while, so I can do my face pretty efficiently in the time I have. Plus, my car has a very nice lighted mirror, and the natural light is nice. So there you have it folks--buy a Volkswagen--the ultimate beauty machine!

Anyway, Benefit's Rush Hour fits into all of this because it takes the place of two products in the bottom of my crazy purse. It is a mauve-y plum color, and comes in a thin gold tube. The product is rounded at the top, and my husband thinks it looks like a penis. I'm being serious. When I first bought it, he thought it was something that he had read about in some kind of men's magazine for the "discreet" lady. ANYWAY, all this aside, I'm pretty happy with it. Granted, I like it much better as blush than as lipstick. As lipstick, it's a little too much for me--too matte, too dark, too much like my grandmom's Mary Kay--but keep in mind I almost exclusively wear gloss. I have found, however, that just a touch of it, blotted well, looks really lovely under nearly any gloss (my favorite being MAC Viva Glam IV Lipglass), and wears well throughout the day (I once checked it at work after coffee, and found that I looked like I had just bitten into a plum--very wholesome and J. Crew catalog-ish). As a blush, it is especially fine--it blends well, and doesn't burden you with messy powders. The color is see-through, and kind of "like my cheeks only better." I especially like it for winter with a stronger eye and pinkish lips.

All in all, I would consider this product a near "must" for working mom's. It's great because it's in one tube, and you can keep it in your purse for when you need a little pick me up. Plus, it looks like a big adult crayon (unless, of course, your mind is in the gutter). What could be more fun than that?

Uninspired

Forgive me for not being so incredibly fashion-y in my posting, but I have been feeling very uninspired lately. Really very blah. There are many culprits: 1) I'm trying not to spend much money right now with the holidays coming and some domestic projects I want to complete (a new green bathroom!), so I'm not getting any new clothes or a much, much, much needed haircut, 2) I think I have gained some weight, 3) Baseball season is over, 4) It rains a lot now, and 5) I just don't feel that well lately. Kind of achy, kind of old, kind of fat, and definitely not like myself. I don't know. It's weird. I left work early yesterday (we all came in to put up this huge map of the US with every college and university in the country on it, and then went home since it was Veteran's Day--I will probably post something about this on my Myspace blog when I get a chance as it was freaking hilarious), and I went home and just...laid in bed. I watched two American Justice's and one Law and Order before uprooting myself, only then realizing that I had eaten one frozen quesadilla, a bowl of guacamole with chips, a leftover ramekin of black and white creme brulee (which, if I do say so myself, was amazing) and two chunks of Monterey Jack cheese. I felt awful. And it didn't get any better. I ended up moving over to the couch and watching Atlantis Squarepantis with my kids, eating more junk and feeling more awful along the way.

Today I got up and tried to make myself do a bit more with myself than I had done yesterday (I went to work yesterday in jeans, a merino that I realized later has a hole in it, a tank top, and no make-up). I put on my Fat Girl Uniform: black pants, black v-neck merino and black city boots. Feeling desperate, I wrapped my teal pashmina around my neck and put on a long necklace. I put my makeup on in the car (thank god for a back up at the toll plaza, or I would have never gotten my eyeliner straight!). I still don't really feel myself, but it's a bit better. I've also put myself on a bit of a detox diet--I've been drinking water at my desk, trying to make the puffiness subside from my fingers. I am going to go out and fix myself a nice salad from the gourmet store down the street for lunch.

So I ask, gentle readers: how do you get yourself out a funk? Any cheap tips you have? Does anyone living in the Bay Area want to come and take me to a gym so that I can breathe in my favorite jeans again? Any suggestions would be very much appreciated!

Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman

This morning I read a fantastic post about age appropriate dressing on Faking Good Breeding, one of my favorite blogs. The post discussed the new Sex and the City movie and the cartoonish get-ups that the women are wearing--costumes that do not agree with their ages or levels of sophistication. I agree with everything Meg said, and found it interesting that this is a conversation that my mother and I often have (my mom is a 52 year old Ph.D. student and is constantly working that line between young hipness and mature style). However, as I read the post, I was reminded of an issue that I think is just as pertinent with age appropriateness--how to dress when one feels like a kid but suddenly finds herself saddled with adult responsibilities. In other words, making the tough transition away from the juniors department.

We have all seen the girl who hasn't quite made the transition yet. Just last week, a young lady came into our office for an interview. I had spoken with her on the phone ahead of time, and she seemed friendly and bright. She was working on her dissertation and needed some extra income so she had applied for the job. I invited her in for a personal interview right away, and sent her a confirmation email, noting that she should dress as she would for a tutoring appointment--we were not a formal interview kind of place. She emailed me back a couple of times, asking questions about the job, and how she should prepare for the quiz we give to applicants. We developed a nice relationship. And then she came to the interview. She was wearing no make-up and had gargantuan dark circles under her eyes. Her skin was rather pallid--almost to the point that I wanted to ask her if she was ok. Her hair had been thrown up into a hasty ponytail, with chunks of it hanging loose on the nape of neck. However, knowing that she was a Ph.D. student, I figured she was just tired--the "Prisoner of War look" as my husband calls it, is one of the main reasons he is taking a break from his Ph.D. program now.

But then she walked away from me and I got view of the whole ensemble. She was wearing a pair of ultra low rise stonewashed jeans. They were super, super tight and flared on the bottom. She was also wearing a tight black shirt that was basically a tank top with a mesh overlay. On top of that, she had put a very fitted black panne velvet blazer. The whole thing looked like it had been very hastily purchased from the sale rack at Forever 21 (do they even have a sale rack?). At first, I thought, "Well, she's very busy, so I guess she has no time to shop and hasn't since she was...16." But then I realized--these clothes looked relatively new, and I knew they were such bad quality that they could not have held up over the years. Interestingly, this girl was not big--probably a size 6 or8--but she looked bloated in the get up. And worst of all, with the run down appearance coupled with the crazy choice of clothing, she looked like a runaway teenage prostitute from an old episode of Law and Order. With a crack problem.

So I sat at my desk and thought about just how evil I was for thinking these things. I imagined that she would do well on her interview and that I would see her again, and I would feel worse and worse as she proved to be a nice person and a wonderful tutor. I fixed her a training binder, betting on the fact that she would be invited back. However, when my coworker finished the interview, he shook her hand and sent her away without getting the binder. I did a double take and asked him what was up. "I don't know...she's nice enough, but she just looked run down. And I didn't like the outfit either." Seriously. My jaw hit the table. Of course, the first thing I thought was just what a divine effect I'm having on my little test prep buddies. Then I realized just how much my basketball shoe and Wranger jean wearing co-worker had been correct in not hiring her. I can't imagine a parent alive who would be especially jazzed seeing this person come to their house to teach their kid a lesson.

Now, I'm not writing this post just to come down hard on this girl. She's probably much smarter than I will ever be, and that's what counts. But seriously, ladies. It can be hard to give up the velour sweatsuits, the Forever 21 ensembles, the glittery t-shirts of one's youth. If we're still taking classes, if we still watch cartoons in our PJ's and laugh at fart jokes, we must be still kids, right? Well, maybe, but we can't dress like them anymore. Your 20's, at least what I have experienced of them, are a time for new things. Some new things are good (money, new jobs, beer) and some new things are bad (lack of money, assistant jobs, girly drinks). I think it is very important that 20 somethings embrace their new look as a good new thing--we're older yeah, and Forever 21 just doesn't do it anymore, but so what? Your 20's can be a great time to experiment and build a personal style that will last you well into your glamorous later years.

And just think of it this way--if you don't do it, imagine the look of disdain you are going to get from Detective Benson when you don that mesh ensemble, you wanna be harlot.

Bringing the Boys to the Yard The Sequel

I think I have established that I don't work in a very erm...formal environment. I have one coworker who coaches basketball after work and wears his basketball shoes and championship t-shirts all day. We usually don't see anyone during the day (save our own students), so I guess I can understand the desire for comfort. Hell, sometimes I give in myself. Yesterday, I sported my Gap curvy bootcuts, a J.Crew puff sleeve featherweight tee, and my William and Mary hooded sweatshirt. But most days I try to do it up right. I think this is seen as some sort of oddity amongst my coworkers--and I wonder if they have discussions about it.

Anyway, the other day when I wore my new blessed denim trousers with a pair of black peep toe pumps. My two female coworkers were commenting me on the look, and of course I was revelling in it, knowing that I looked lovely. Then they began discussing my shoes. "I don't know how you wear such high heels," one said. "I wonder about that every day." I asserted that I just could, that I had worn them so much they felt natural, and that I always make sure to buy the correct size. Then, my coworker said, "Well, I guess you keep Matt happy. Isn't that why you do it?" I smiled, but I kind of prickled at that comment. Why is it that we as women assume that because a woman looks nice, she is looking for attention from men? It seems that anytime a woman bothers to put on something that isn't stained and fits correctly, someone somewhere says "Well, who is she trying to impress?" In some ways, this is the same argument that is used against rape victims--"She was asking for it, dressed like that." Why is this something that we as women both subject each other to and put up with?

I think I have established that my husband does not always agree with my fashion choices. I think he likes it, and he does compliment me on them, but if I were dressing for Matt's sake, I would be wearing a whole lot more casual things. I dress for myself. If I want to wear heels, I wear them. If I want to wear jeans, I wear them. Why do you dress the way you do? Have you ever dressed for a man? How did that turn out?

The Love Song of J. Alfred Crew

Last Saturday, I took my kids to our favorite burger and pie joint to eat sinfully delicious things. We had just finished our burgers and were starting on our whipped cream covered pies when my son's eyes lit up and he looked at my husband and said, "Daddy, I see a boo-tiful girl. She's boo-tiful!" Keep in mind that my son is four. Matt and I both turned around to see a hardcore rocker chick carrying a a tray of burgers back to her table. She was wearing a short black skirt with a black t-shirt, black tights and huge black boots. Her hair was a dark burgundy/purple and she had studs all over her ears. She sat down in a booth, slammed the tray down and then threw her feet up into the seat in front of her, whilst concentrating on taking a gargantuan bite of the burger in front of her. Sam looked on, mesmerized, not touching the pie in front of him. "I see a boo-tiful girl," he kept saying. My husband sat in his seat, seemingly ecstatic that his son had checked out his first girl. I concentrated on eating my pie, and tried to forget that I was no longer the only lady in my son's life.

However, it wasn't something a mother can easily forget. While we ran errands, I looked down at my black henley sweater, twill chinos (that are kind of big in the waist--the perfect burger eating pants) and red ballet flats and thought just how staid and ordinary I must look. When we got home, I jumped at the computer to look up fun, exciting clothes that still showed how hard I still rocked. I ordered an ACDC t-shirt to cut up. I took a denim skirt that I no longer wear and cut it off, producing a mini with threadbare spots and holes. I decided I would need new websites to replace the Gap, Banana Republic and J. Crew shopping portals I frequented.

But then these pants came along:
I had ordered these pants back in early September when I was looking to update my denim wardrobe. They had been backordered, and I pretty much forgot about them. But yesterday they arrived at my door. I was pretty excited to start with because there is basically nothing I love more than trouser jeans and wrap dresses, but I didn't try them on, and I had a sneaking feeling that they might not fit (J. Crew jeans fit oddly sometimes). But today when I put them on--sheer magic. These things are very nearly perfect. Not only do they fit extraordinarily well (they're even the perfect length--granted, with heels, but I would only wear trousers with heels, so no problem there) but they look...perfect. Moreover, they are comfortable. Really comfortable. No waist digging, no crotch sagging, so yank 'em up before they fall...Did I mention they're perfect?

So this leads me to this simple thought: I am a J. Crew girl. Yes, they have gone up in price since I first ordered my wool toggle coat back in the 11th grade (my first J. Crew purchase, and interestingly, still my winter coat). But their clothes just fit me without tailoring or marks left on my tummy. Yes, I've had some problems with some of the jeans, but I'll take the blame for that (I should start considering laying back on the pie). Seriously. Our love remains strong and true. When I feel bad, what do I reach for? My J. Crew merinos (and now these trouser jeans--seriously, I think I"ll sleep in these tonight). When I feel good, what do I reach for? My black J. Crew jersey dress.

So no matter who my son decides to love, and no matter how that makes me feel, I'll be sticking with my favorite store. And Jack Daniels. Sticking to that too.