Thursday, April 28, 2011

aside from my birthday suit

I wear a lot of, um, casual ware I suppose you could say. Basically, sweatypants are my best friend (sweatpants, not pants that you get sweaty in, der). I don't know why but I have always hated clothes that are too tight, too restrictive, and basically too much effort to wear. I went through a phase my last year of college and when I lived in San Diego where I never buttoned my top button. Maybe I had a weight problem, maybe I just hated the way that buttoned pants felt against my skin. Either way, it made for some awkward situations when I forgot to do them up in public. 

At some point I got over that aversion and started buttoning my pants fully again. Then I had a baby and didn't work in an office or go out with my friends much anymore, and jeans sort of became something I only wore grocery shopping, at least until I lost the baby weight. Generally speaking, I still only take off my sweatpants when I have to go somewhere. Why? Because they are all things comfortable to me. Hey, at least I take care to wear "nice" sweatpants (call them yoga pants, whatever), not my high school track pair from 10 years ago that have elastic around the ankle. GO BUFFS! Sure did *forget* to turn those in at the end of the season. Mah bad. 

I realize that wearing sweatpants 90% of the time may be considered somewhat slovenly by many, and as I am slowly reclaiming my ability to wear most of my jeans again, I will now attempt to wear them more often and for longer periods of time in an attempt to repent of my lazy habits. I am also thinking that I would like to make myself some skirts with pockets and wear those instead of pants this summer. I am all about options here! Would you like to see what I wore today? WELL TOO BAD.

Also, I like it when people break down brand and price so I will do this and feel like I am contributing something valuable to the conversation as such.

gray shirt: Mossimo V-Neck Target $8
purple cardigan: Gap Outlet $14
belt: Shade Clothing closeout sale $5
jeans: Vigoss via Nordstrom Rack $32
yellow flats you can't see: Mossimo Target $14
Total Outfit Cost: $73 give or take a dollar or two

All those bloggers who put looks together for $150 or less can put that in their pipe and smoke it. 
Plus, all of these clothes are old, man. The newest item is the cardigan I got at Christmas.

Basic, right? But I'm still wearing it at 5:42 pm and that is the point of this whole exercise. I lost the belt because after a while that thing makes my ribs hurt yo and I am not one to sacrifice comfort for fashion, at least not on a daily basis. So, maybe I'll do this more often, or for like a week or two. I know, you're thrilled. I can hear your screams of delight from here!

It's time for dinner, I have to go find my sweatpants. I draw the line at cooking in jeans.


sort of...

p.s. the Thanksgiving Point 4-Pack of passes is still up for grabs for another day. There's less than 10 entries last time I checked, seriously embarrassing people. For my sake, go enter.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Wyoming Peepers

Curiously enough, a small chunk of my daily hits come from my friend Teri's blog.

Teri and I go way back, back all the way to high school. Even though she grew up in a rival town 30 minutes from my own, we were both selected (along with our friend Dana) to spend 3 weeks when we were 15 at a University of Wyoming summer enrichment program pretending to be college students and making up stupid dances to the Spice Girls at 1 o'clock in the morning. We were the three musketeers, four if you count our friend Chelsea who looked nothing like how a 15 year old girl should. Let's just say she was not lacking in the stacked department, neither in blonde, leggy, or beautiful.  Basically, out of the four of us, I won the awkward, mid-pubescent troll award hands down. I don't miss those days at all. 

Anywho, aside from all that we had a lot of fun during those three weeks. And even though during basketball and volleyball season we were sworn enemies, once the game was over that stuff didn't matter, much. Though I think out of all of us Teri was the most competitive over the whole thing. Teri got married right out of high school, she's been married for 10 years now with three beautiful daughters and a brave Army helicopter pilot husband who used to harass my brother from the stands. I think he even got thrown out of the game a few times if I remember right. Nice. We stay in touch, read each other's blogs mostly. She still looks the same as she did to me when we were in high school, sans Levi Silvertab jeans and androgynous clothes that we all sported back in those days. 

Getting to the point here, Teri is cool, aside the fact that she's from Lovell, Wyoming (ZING!). I don't really stay in touch with many other people from my semi-not-really-much-at-all-beloved- home state, but for one reason or another, I have seem to have a good following of people who click over daily to read my blog via Teri's blog. 

If this is you, I'm curious as to who you are exactly? So please, by all means leave a comment and say hello. I won't hold Wyoming against you. At least not entirely. If you out yourself as the blog stalker that you are (embrace it, we all do it), I might even reward you by posting a picture of the three (four?) of us from those days and you, and the rest of my readers, can get up close and personal with Slagathor the Snaggle Toothed Wonder Girl in person.

* If you DON'T live in Wyoming and are closer to Utah then you should probably enter the TG Point Gardens Pass Giveaway HERE

Monday, April 25, 2011

Do They Make Baby Ambien?

Hi Hi Hi

I am off to bed so I'll keep this quick. 

The last few weeks have basically sucked sleep-wise thanks to a bloody ( as in the british swear, not literally) ear infection for Mr. Fatty, resulting sleep pattern interruption, and then a decision that we were done swaddling this kid and subsequent continued sleep pattern interruption. For the love of cream he weighs 25 lbs! He should learn how to sleep without being bound up like a sumo papoose. 

But anyway, I'll survive, I think. Once I manage to get myself functioning again in the mornings after a night of stumbling back and forth across the hall, I chew on his cheeks and feel better about the fact that I have to prop my eyelids open with toothpicks because that butter boy is a delicious daily snack that I partake of in large doses, so, totally worth it. 

That being said, if you want to volunteer a few (like 10) hours of your night to come comfort him when he wakes up in shock face down in his crib because he rolled over that way, I am accepting applications. Better yet, if you want to take him to your house so the rest of us can sleep, I will certainly consider legitimate offers (not really, unless your name is Connie or Baca, then yes really). 

Friday, April 22, 2011

Easter Weekend

I will certainly be getting my Easter grub on this weekend. I'll be the one knocking over the toddlers and small children during the egg hunt in an effort to get to the peanut butter eggs first, because that's how I roll. 

But all of that is certainly secondary to the purpose of Easter, and don't think I've forgotten about it for a minute. I don't know what your religious affiliation is, to be honest I don't care, it's all good to me. But I want you to know that I have a personal testimony of Jesus Christ. I am thankful every single day for the life that He lived and willingly gave up so that I might have the opportunity to be with my family forever. 

Happy Easter. May your ham and rolls be delicious, and your heart as full of gratitude as mine. 

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Art Happens

sometimes you just can't fight the creative urge

(hold off on calling DCFS, the red pencil washed right off)

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Metamucil Shooters?

I am up too late, again. And why? 

Are you able to function like a normal person when you receive less than 8 hours? Every since the Fat One showed up I've had an especially difficult time getting myself together and holding myself together throughout the day. He's 7 months now (SERIOUSLY), and knocking out a solid 10 or so consecutive hours a night, but for some reason I cannot get my sleep cycle business/circadian rhythms all in alignment. I'm going to go ahead and blame the extra 10 lbs I'm still holding on to for dear life, makes sense, right? I wish I could tell you that I was doing everything in my power to get rid of it, but the cookie dough and mini eggs I ate an hour ago would dictate otherwise. 

Major burn right there. 

I tell you, something has got to give. 

Tomorrow I am leaving my children with a teenaged baby sitter while I run away for a few hours. Am I nervous about it? Sort of, but only because she was grossed out by the baby barf dripping down my dress as we sat chatting in the hallway at church on Sunday. Baby barf of the milky kind does not phase me much anymore. Of the chunky kind? Well that's a different story now. But I know she's capable and I get the chance to wear barf-free dress up clothes for a few hours so I think we'll all be just fine. 

I have reached the point in my life where I am hiring teenaged baby sitters to watch my children and I feel like I should mark the occasion by upping my fiber intake or something. I was talking with my soon to be 16 year old niece on Sunday as well and told her I couldn't even remember what I did for my 16th birthday, then I asked her if that meant I was old. She said yes. 


Here's the problem: I still want the teenagers to think I'm cool. I want them to tell me they like my outfits and ask where I got my shoes (one did, I'm still high off of that compliment 3 weeks later). I care more about teenage opinions now than I did when I was a teenager myself. How messed up is that? Next thing you know I'm going to start shopping in the tween section (Justin Beiber much?) and trot around wearing jeans with bedazzled rhinestone pockets in an attempt to let the world know that I'VE STILL GOT IT.  Except, memo to the women over 40 in my area: rhinestones are never okay for anyone. Unless you're Dolly Parton, or Dolly Parton in drag. Then go right ahead, the world is your oyster. 

So anyway, basically I don't know what crowd I fit into anymore. My whole identity is under construction. Now it's way past my bedtime for sure, there's one vote for old.