it's the little things

It's Thursday again, y'all.  The second Thursday in November and right now that's a little bittersweet.  On one hand, I'm pretty pumped to be linking up with my blogger-buddy Julia and being thankful and all; but, it just hit me that this is only my 3rd post this month.  I guess I'm still suffering a bit from my 31 Days hangover.  At any rate, I've had tons to be thankful for this week.  So, let's get this party started...

feelin' all prettified 'n stuff
Very little makes me feel prettier than looking down at my hands when they are painted pretty.  Usually, Tuesday night is my nail 'n Hart of Dixie night.  Monday night, however, it became clear that my nails just could not make it to Tuesday {honestly, they shouldn't have even made it to Monday}.  I treated myself to a new color and painted away.  I'm still smiling at the cute new color and polka dots :)

repeating numbers
Some time ago, I decided that 11:11 was not enough.  The way I figure it, whenever a number is repeated three or more times, something special is happening.  In my world, it's a little love note from God to remind me that either I'm on the right track or that everything is gonna be okay.  Sunday, I received a phone call that came unexpectedly and answered a little prayer I've been praying lately.  When I hung up the phone, the time read 2:22.  I do not think this was a coincidence. at. all.

chivalry
I'm a strong, independent woman who believes enough in her own invincibility to occasionally attempt to break up fights between students.  Yesterday was one of those occasions.  Luckily, two male teachers saved me from myself and intervened, thus saving my fragile notion of invincibility and the bag of M&M's I was eating.

more chivalry
Upon the retelling of the incident to my principal, two Army recruiters, who happened to be in checking up with another student, overheard my peril and jointly offered their assistance.  They even volunteered to teach a class for me.  Complete with PowerPoints.  I love PowerPoints.  They are men after my sweet little heart {at least in my mind, anyway}.

running ridiculous distances and the cheering squad
I ran my fifth half-marathon with my super-duper running buddy on Sunday.  Last week was horrible. Not only was I able to leave the nonsense on the course, but I had an amazing and humbling outpour of support wishing me luck, cheering me on, and congratulating my finish.

Happy Thursday lovelies,

pants. revisited.

Last Friday, I made it my mission to cure the pants problem in my wardrobe.  I was unsuccessful.  (although I did find quite a few cute tops, even some that would look great with...gasp...jeans).

Apparently, the skirts that exist in my head do not exist in malls.  Of course, this is usually the case.  It happened already once in the last six months in the case of the red sundress, which, despite my best intentions, inevitably turned into a sewing mishap resulting in the production of a sundress suitable for only those persons possessing tyrannosaurus rex arms.  I have yet to fix it.  But I digress.

The trip to the mall.  My AB and I combed, I swear, every store in that place.  No skirts that I both loved and could afford.  And so I came home relatively empty handed and Monday, I donned the dreaded pair of pants.  again.  blah.

Then yesterday as I was reading through the musings of some absolutely fabulous gals, I came across an immediate solution using the stuff I already own!  Both Melissa at I Pick Pretty and Holly at Running in Stilettos layered a top over a maxi dress, repurposing the dress into a skirt.  How clever!

So today, I paired a turquoise sundress under a basic black t-shirt and finished it off with a little black ribbon.  So cute and I even got a few compliments too!  Woohoo!

It felt so good to be rocking a dress today, honestly, I could not help but smile a little brighter than I usually do when I'm wearing, ugh, pants.

i don't wanna wear pants

When I was a kid, my mom consistently fought with me over two pieces of clothing.  Turtlenecks and dresses.  Eventually, she gave up both fights.

Flash forward thirty odd years.

I've been back at work now for a whole nine days, and I've determined that I'm over pants.  I'm sure they have their place and that I'll love them again someday.  But even my good 'ol worn-in jeans are just not doing it for me right now, it doesn't even seem to matter how high the heels or how cute the shirt.  The world just seems better in a skirt.

Currently these are the reasons why I hate pants:

Wearing pants means going back to work.

Going to work means that my leisurely mornings and morning runs have been deduced to being haphazardly fit in.

It's so hard to feel fun and flirty in a pair of pants.  At least it is for me currently.

Driving my car is not nearly as much fun in pants.  I don't know why, I know this is an odd one, but there's something powerful about wearing a cutie sun dress while driving a muscle car with windows down, hair up, and the music loud.   I'm also aware that this makes me a boarder-line train-wreck.  I'm not at all bothered by this.  possibly proud.  

It is still hot outside and I really do sweat more in those things.  eew.

I'm pretty sure that I am not as sweet or patient in pants.  This is a big deal.  I need all the help that I can get.

My mom thinks this is hilarious, by the way.  I'm glad she does.  Really.  Really, I am.  As I drive my car to work in the morning, constricted at the waist, all business like (I know that's what I'm supposed to look like, ugh, I know) and ish.  She's laughing.  

Tomorrow, I'm going to Macy's.  Toodles.

hi, um, i'm crazy

In honor of the fact that I have had Miranda Lambert's "Only Prettier" stuck in my head all day, I was going to write a bit today about the necessity of putting one's self in a pretty package, but then I got to thinking a little about how a chapter in the book I'm reading cautioned me this morning about being too judgmental, now I'm thinking about how one of my AB's is a recovering crazy and how much I love her despite, actually mostly because of, her crazy.

Then it dawned on me.  We have a lot in common, my crazy AB and I.  Which means that I might be a crazy, too.  Of course this makes me laugh, because I believe that crazy people always think they are sane.  I, of course, pride myself on my level head and ability to stay completely cool and confident in all scenarios. Ohhhhhhh, the irony.

I think crazy is kind of like having cankles.  First, you should know that I've been secretly self-conscious about my ankles since I was in the fifth grade when a super cute, older boy told me that girls with fat ankles were ugly.  He then pointed out that mine were "a little on the thick side."  Boom.  Actually, that's probably when the crazy started, too.

At any rate, I noticed that my cankles showed up a little today.  It's back to school time, which means my summer of healthier-than-normal eating etc. is over and I've already caved in to my ceremonial 10 am bag of Chex-Mix and can of Mountain Dew.  Trust me, it does lovely things for water retention.  Since we've already established that God likes to make good and clear those delicate little lessons I'm supposed to be learning, there is probably no coincidence that as I was strapping on my running shoes and thinking about the sad state of my lower legs, that I heard the sounds of Miss Miranda over the radio waves.

You catch more flies with the sweet, pretty taste of honey, y'all and neither sodium-induced cankles nor act-like-you-lost-your-mind crazy are all that pretty.  That's for sure, but we all have a little bit of both in us.  And let's be honest, pretty isn't all that easy, neither is overcoming water retention or maintaining sanity.  It takes time and patience to do things for ourselves that make us feel pretty and I guess that's where this whole post comes full circle: there's a little bit of sanity in being able to laugh at your crazy and those of us who choose to act "prettier" will be prettier.

Having confidence is just like being you, only prettier.   You know what you had to do to earn it and believe you're worth the work to keep yourself that way.  Oh.  Wait.  Isn't that kind of like sanity?

marriage and a baby carriage

Source: simplydiamonds.com.au via Doloritas on Pinterest

I go to a good job every day.  I have a master's degree.  I own my own home and drive a nice car.  I pay my bills on time and have a decent credit score as a reflection of that effort.  I have a strong resume and two generally well-behaved dogs.  I am healthy, active, and happy.  I am absolutely blessed without a doubt, and am thankful for every aspect of my life.

That doesn't mean that there are not things that could enhance it.  I pray every night for someone with whom to share all of these blessings.  I pray for children to awaken my home with laughter.  I pray for the opportuntiy to wake up every morning next to the man I love most.  I pray for the job title of mom, wife,  homemaker, and superwoman.

Maybe it's because I've gotten all of my ambitions out of the way; maybe it's because I know I'm going to be okay, regardless of what the future holds; maybe it's because I can honestly say that I don't need my neighbor to come and cut up the big 'ol tree branch that fell on my house last weekend because I can confidently and successfully do it myself; but honestly, I want to be cared for.

When I wanted to become a teacher, there was a plan in place for that.  When I wanted to buy a house, I followed all of the steps.  Every time I have purchased a car, there has been a familiar routine to follow.  I pay my bills according to the rules and followed a template to write my resume.  The dogs, eh, well, it's a process.  There is no guideline, rule book, or template to meeting my future partner in crime.

Oh.  Wait a minute.  There are plenty.  If I haven't read them all, I've read most of them.

Source: d30opm7hsgivgh.cloudfront.net via Jonesy on Pinterest

Maybe I'll set the plight of feminists back a couple hundred of years, but I've decided that just because I can do the work of a man does not mean that I do not deserve to be treated like a lady.  Fair and equal are not the same things.  And so, I will: paint my nails, write thank you notes on pretty cards, allow a man to pay for my meal and open my door, wear dresses, and get a little teary during sentimental commercials.  I will not apologize for being a woman and I will relish the man who appreciates it.

Sure, I'm super appreciative for all that women in history have done to pave the way for all of the amazing things and experiences that I have been granted or able to earn.  I revel in the knowledge that I have not felt the pressure to settle for less than I deserve on any front.  But I wonder sometimes if I have learned to be too independent, too self-sufficient, too outspoken.  I don't want to be dumb, defenseless, or mute; but I also don't want to be treated like a man, like I'm easy, or like I'm disposable.

Of course, they ain't Tiffany's...

...but then again, sometimes a good run can be even more adorning than diamonds.   My run on Monday left me and my shins feeling like someone's skin looks when they wear cheap silver on a hot day.  But these turquoise beauties seemed to do the trick!  

Getting back to running has been quite a little process!  I'm finally running more than I'm walking during a workout and feeling pretty good about the pace I'm able to sustain.  It looks like surgery and all those weeks of physical therapy are going to really help me meet my sub 2 hour half marathon goal!

Until next time, happy running :)

Today was a good day!

This evening, while I was putting freshly washed (and dried with lavender scented dryer sheets) linens on my bed, I happened to notice my spectacularly awesome self in the mirror.  I was once challenged by some author of some book that I happened across some time ago to fall in love with myself.  Really, truly, madly and shamelessly fall.  in.  LOVE.  It probably sounds corny and maybe conceited; but sometimes, after I've put on my deliciously colorful make-up (oooh, especially the eyes) or in the mirror over a good brush/floss/rinse session, I gaze into my eyes and remind myself how beautiful I am (right now, I'm all I've got; and for real, if I can't do it, how's Prince Charming going to?).   I'm pretty sure I'm in love and I love how much more lovely life is for me now!  Its been a long road, folks, to get to this point, here are the things that I'm loving today:

• Mastered my interpretation of a description I found, I think, in this month's issue of Women'sHealth of a "west coast blow out".  Ok, I don't really know if its officially a blow out, but oooohhhhh, my hair just looked so effortless and shiny today that I altered my outfit so that I could bear wearing it down in all this heat and humidity!  And a side note: my love for driving with the windows down did not hinder my hair in the least, which totally makes me hotter (in my fantasy sequences, at least)!
• I way over spent on groceries today, like budget for 3 weeks overspent, but I shopped the perimeter of the store, only bought what was on my list, and bought as much on sale as possible.  I'm pretty pumped because I probably would have spent it under the golden arches if I wouldn't have spent it on eggplant!  
• I successfully made and enjoyed a fabulous meal of Eggplant Parmesean, a glass of Pino Grigio and peaches topped with home-made whipped cream and pecans.  Holy YUM!
• The above meal, sans the wine, cost me (based on what I had on hand and what I just bought) around $1 per serving!  Whoo Hooo!  It's a good thing I'm rocking the whole cook-on-the-cheap schtick because I've got two whole weeks until payday!

• Today was officially the last day of summer vacay for this chick and I've got my coffee pot set to brew at 5:15, my clothes all laid out, and my lunch (leftovers) neatly nestled into my elephant lunch box (really, we can't take ourselves too seriously now; its my conversation starter)!   
• Mary Beth was finally sent home on Food Network Star.  Ha.  Sorry, it had to be said.

There's so much more, but one of my sleepy man-eaters seems to be irritated that I am still awake and I suppose, since I just glanced at the time and realized that I'm gonna have to be up in around 5 hours, I should go to bed ... 

Sweet dreams, my lovelies :)