craving lazy {frocktober, day 24+25}

Day 24 : Dress (remixed): gifted, Top: LOFT outlet, Cardigan: old, Shoes: Blowfish
Day 25 : Dress (remixed 1, 2): J. Crew outlet, Denim Top (remixed): Ruche

These last few weekends I have been having very acute cravings for laziness.

It starts somewhere around Friday morning, after I've had my coffee and I begin to count down the hours and the minutes to pajama time. My Friday night parties include me, my TV (or a good book), my cats, and something to snack on. I am quite the night lifer, I know.

My husband, though, is the opposite. He craves actual parties. He loves people and is energized by events and get-togethers and plans. I want no plans. I want couch. 

Sometimes it's a struggle to find a balance for what we both want and need. 

My husband feels really frustrated and unaccomplished when we spend too much time on the weekends doing nothing. (Which, I would argue, having an all-day sitcom marathon is not nothing). But, I see his point and I think lately I've just been wanting to crawl into my shell and disappear for a while. It's a part of me that shows up every once in a while, the extreme introvert that can occasionally take over. I've been especially susceptible to her lately. 

And also, I kind of just miss marathons. As disgusting as it was, I miss those years where we would literally watch TV for days, binge-watching shows together and being completely free to do so. Sure, we would eat our weight in crap like pizza and cookie dough but it kinda felt like a vacation. 

Right now we're stuck in that awkward stage of really wanting to partake in bouts of all-day indulgences, while also trying to find the strength and resolution to admit that oh my goodness my body hates me I'm too old for this crap. It's a side effect of the mid-twenties. 

Friday night I went to a 10 o'clock showing of Gone Girl with my dad and little brother and I feel like death warmed up. I just can't stay up that late anymore. I desperately want to hold on to my adolescence and take a full weekend to watch TV, but that's pretty irresponsible and is generally a waste of my time and a drain on my energy. It's time that I could be using to actually do something worthwhile. 

I wish I had the answers to feeling more secure, more grown up, more accomplished. I think we're both just feeling like we're in a rut and we're not sure how to get out of it, how to keep moving forward. We're just in the money-saving, planning, hoping in-between stage. Things are happening and we have ideas and goals and "I cant wait for"s, but it's just a lot of patience and waiting. 

Maturity encourages patience, so I'm going to keep putting on my dresses and going out into the world to nourish learning, activity, exercise, and relationships. 

That childish gal within me who wishes to stay in her pajamas for days at a time will just have to be saved for very, very special occasions. Like a real vacation, once we've saved up and earned one. 

more color, please! {frocktober, day 23}

Dress (remixed 1, 2, 3): Ruche, Sweater: LOFT outlet, Shoes (remixed): Zulily

Yesterday was my first full day in a new office. 

I'm still at the same job, but I've switched over to a new cubicle in my boss's office so she can just yell out her door whenever we need to communicate. It has actually been a rather delightful change for both of us, I think. I'm around more people (it's an office of 8 women), I'm closer to the food (this office is known for having lots of food-related celebrations), and I'm more motivated to work, ask questions, learn, etc.! 

Most of the girls are out of the office this week since it's Fall break, so it's rather quiet. But I'm excited to be a part of this environment. I'm the youngest one here, and I think this outfit packed full of polka dots and color, and my head of braids, definitely reiterated that fact. 

I'm alright with it, though. This week my husband and I have been listening to old high school music and reminiscing about the good ol' days of those oh-so-2000's whiny ballads from the likes of Good Charlotte, Yellowcard, Avril Lavigne, Michelle Branch, etc. It's so funny how music changes from generation to generation. It tends to go on a loop, though, and certain trends and music styles creep back into the mainstream every few decades. 

I'm currently loving Taylor Swift's new song Welcome to New York from her soon-to-be-released album, 1989. (I guess I'm in a Taylor Swift groove). I'm gonna go ahead and confess that I've always been semi-skeptical of her insane fame, but over the years (and after seeing her in concert in New York), I've realized that she has actually grown into a really interesting, smart, creative musician. She sounded amazing live, which wasn't always the case. I know a lot of people hate that she has deviated from her Country beginnings, but I think it's incredible that she's experimenting and this new album is a really impressive example of that. She started so young, it's no surprise to me that her sound has changed and that she's breaking into other genres. For this new album she honed in on one specific sound, inspired by the 80's (really pop, cosmic, techno), and just ran with the wind. I think it's a really promising album and I'm surprised by how excited I am to hear the entire thing in 3 days!

What's currently on your playlist? 

Happy Friday!

render me handless {frocktober, day 22}

Dress (remixed 1, 2, 3, 4): Ruche, Sweater/Shoes: gifted

Yesterday I posted an Instagram of this outfit while I was finishing my coffee in the break room, and the caption on the photo said,

"I know they don't make a whole lotta functional sense, 

but I adore sweaters that render me handless."

I said it just to be witty and silly, since my hands were completely hidden in the sparkly folds of this cozy sweater. And it's true - I love me some sweaters. I have been wearing sweaters throughout this entire month, even though it has barely dipped below 90 degrees. I call them my "stubborn sweaters". I want it to be Fall, and so it will be, even if it's just in my mind. I would rather sweat a little on the walk to my car than dress in shorts and tank tops in the middle of October. It's too depressing!

But as the day went on I started thinking a little bit deeper about the idea of rendering myself handless. I won't invite you completely into my train of thought because I'm not sure you ever wanna really get inside my head. 

Like one of my favorite moments in an episode of Friends, where Phoebe is trying to remember an important restaurant, supposedly with "rainbow" in the title. After a while of Chandler guessing, she finally yells out, "L'Espace!" So he says, "Rainbow L'Espace!" And she shakes her head. "No, just L'Espace." He thinks for a second. "I'd love to know how you got from rainbow to L'Espace." And her eyes widen. "No you wouldn't. You don't wanna get in here."

Anyway. Down the rabbit hole again! Back to the issue at hand. 

What would it be like without hands? There are obviously humans in the world that have been actually rendered handless, either from birth or by some tragic accident, and they have to adjust accordingly. Everything about their daily functionality and physical movement and interaction changes. It's incredibly difficult to imagine. 

There is also the scripture verse in Matthew that says if your right hand offends you, or causes you to stumble, cut it off. I don't personally take that verse literally, because I think we'd all be limbless or dead if that were the case. But the idea still sits here, simmering in my mind. 

Rendering myself handless. It would revolutionize the way I live. I would be unable to reach for things. Unable to reach, greedily, for things I could not afford. Unable to grab another in anger. Unable to eat without thought or restraint. Unable to text and drive, or spend time clicking away on my phone instead of being present with loved ones. I would have to ask, see, discern. I would have to choose carefully and live creatively.

It's an interesting thought.

So, Lord, guide my hands - or render me handless. 

don't you ever grow up {frocktober, day 21}

When I was a kid, my little brother and I had a solid block of years where we were quite literally inseparable. We were hip to hip at all times. I was always holding his hand or wrapping my arm around his neck. I had zero comprehension for those siblings that I knew who fought all the time, because Kevin and I never did. As it turns out, it's just because it's impossible to fight with him. My other siblings and I had a whole conversation about this - we don't know anyone who has ever fought with him. He's too thoughtful, quiet, understanding. He never acts against other people. You'd have to really try to fight with him and even then, I think he'd just stare at you, and you'd end up feeling like a horrible human for even bringing it up.

As kids we played together and laughed together, hosting marathons of Sega games like Battletoads while drinking juice boxes and listening to British Invasion CDs. My favorites of those CDs were definitely "the green one" and "the purple one" (volumes 1 and 3).

We had this giant, fantastic old CD player down in the basement that could fit like six CDs at once, so we inevitably had all six of those slots filled with these compilation CDs of great oldies music. One of them (volume 9) began with a song called "Fire" by The Crazy World of Arthur Brown. We would always yelp out when it came on because, frankly, it's terrifying. And yet it never occurred to us to change out that CD. I think it was a secret kind of enjoyment, waiting for that song to come up. Every time an album would end we would tense up, waiting for that crazy screaming man, carefully setting our juice boxes aside to avoid grape showers of terror. Once the initial shock faded, we would collapse into hysterical laughter and do our best hip-swaying impression of the singer's pronunciation of "fie-yah".

Today is Kevin's 24th birthday and I'm just sitting here like wait what. 
My husband and I took him out to dinner last night to celebrate, and sometimes it just really hits me how wonderful it is to have siblings. I have loved him all my life, and he is one of the best men I have ever known. That kind of innocent best friendship that carried us through into adulthood carries with it some of my most cherished memories. We're both living our own lives now, and can no longer be attached at the hip, but we can at least remain attached at the heart.
My mother-in-law has told me that she used to tell my husband and his siblings when they were little to love and cherish each other, because God had hand-chosen them as friends for life. What a special connection that is.

Dress (remixed): Gifted, Button-up: Target

Taylor Swift has a song that always makes me tear up. It's just simple and sweet, but incredibly melancholy. It's about Peter Pan's worst fear: growing up. She wrote it for her little brother, and I can't help but relate to it. The words include phrases like, To you everything's funny, you got nothing to regret. I'd give all I have, honey, if you could stay like that. And take pictures in your mind of your childhood room, memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home. All of those wonderful evenings spent together as kids, all the games and the reckless abandon, the many dreams for the future. It goes by very, very fast.
Happy birthday to my darling adventuring partner of my favorite days of yore.

Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up.

Don't you ever grow up, just stay this little.

Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up.

Don't you ever grow up, it could stay this simple. 

Won't let nobody hurt you,

Won't let no one break your heart.

And even though you want to, please try to never grow up. 

the curse of the telephone {frocktober, day 20}

Dress (remixed 1, 2): Ruche, Sweater (remixed): LOFT

Earlier this week I read this article about having a serious phone phobia and I was literally grinning like a fool because I'm not alone in the world. Granted, I already knew that, because this whole strange phobia/disease is fairly rampant in my immediate family. We're pretty terrible at communicating. We always joke that we're on a "need to know basis" and, apparently, nobody needs to know. 

I'm not sure where my telephonitis stems from or when it started, but I'm fairly certain it's a parasitic fear virus that only gets worse as time goes on.

I have memories of talking on my super awesome land-line phone (which was purple and glittery and from Limited Too) as a kid with a few close friends, sometimes for quite a long time. When we got wireless home phones I remember walking round and round the kitchen island, avoiding the cracks in the tile, in a strange rhythmic nervous tick of conversational movement.

Then I remember, in 8th grade, talking to boys on the phone and feeling as if I was having an out-of-body experience. I would sweat, and babble, and say all kinds of absurd things and hang up feeling exhausted and completely baffled by my behavior. Even then I recognized it as a kind of teenage angst, but now I wonder if it was just the early stages of phone aversion. 

I count myself blessed that I was able to pretty seamlessly make the transition from growing phone-hater to rabid texter. Cell phones became more and more common once I hit high school, and I was always the fastest texter on the block. Clickety click clickety click. My friends were in awestruck wonder (superb annoyance) at my ungodly skills. The reason for my lightening fingers?

Please don't make me call this person see how fast I can text it's way better so much better so much faster see look I'm already done!

Like Rachel, the author of that article, I have observed myself suffering from this odd crippling social flaw for years and I wonder why. Why am I like this? When did it start? What is the root of the problem?

Rachel has hypothesized her own root as this:

I simply want to see who I’m talking to, and I can’t on the phone. I can’t tell if they’re enjoying the conversation, or amused by my stories, or simply interested in anything I have to say. For all I know they've muted their end and are busy eating a sandwich.

It's an acute observation to point out that we want (maybe even need) feedback when we're communicating with others, whether it's a smile or a nod or just simple rapt eye contact. Perhaps that's one of the issues I have with the phone, too, but I think I've identified an even deeper part of this phobia puzzle for myself.

I am not comfortable communicating at all. 

Ever. If it involves another human that is actually responding to me, I seize up. I'm not saying I'm incapable of having fun with other people or with talking to others, because I definitely can. I love people! But I'm a grade A interrupter and I think part of it is because in lively conversation I'm always nervous. I start speaking too loudly or I speak harsher than I mean to. I blurt things out or I try to hide my true feelings. I try too hard to make people laugh, or I get too worked up trying to explain something (like why I hate the himym finale.) I'm not comfortable communicating. I'm not very good at it. It's difficult for me.
A phone call is the absolute worst representation of this because there is the added silence and pressure to speak, and that unknowable black hole on the other end that holds another person that, as she pointed out, may or may not be understanding or appreciating my words. It's incredibly frightening and frustrating. I think I have a hard enough time speaking face to face as it is. I struggle with representing my true self to others. Even to my husband who arguably knows me better than anyone else, I sometimes struggle to efficiently and honestly communicate what I'm feeling.
I always fear I'm messing up what I really want to say, which is why I find writing, blogging, texting, etc. so much easier and more freeing.
It's absolutely tied to self-doubt and insecurity, which didn't really start showing up until I was around 11 or 12, which is when this phone phobia really started.

It's the same reason I abhor confrontation, and I love cats, and I hate talking on the telephone. I am practically a born hermit.

Having said all of this, I do think I am getting better. (Getting even better is on my to do list). I simply have to bolster myself up in order to endure these encounters. I live so deeply inside my own head that I just have to work much harder to communicate enthusiastically and bravely, whether in-person or {gulp} on that blasted telephone. I recognize it as a weakness, and I know the only true cure is a giant Starbucks and a crown of resolution on my head and on my heart. I don't want to be unable to communicate with my friends, and I don't want to lose that age of connection to people in favor of Facebook and texting, because that truly isn't enough. It isn't real. I want to find my 10-year-old girl within that was alright to talk about nothing and everything with no doors barred.

I'll send you a text when I've found her.

weekenders {frocktober, day 17+18+19}

Outfit 1: Dress (remixed 1, 2 / similar 1, 2): Ruche, Jeans (similar): Target
Outfit 2: Dress (remixed 1, 2)/Necklace: Ruche
Outfit 3: Dress (remixed): LOFT, Top (similar): Target

Friday, Saturday and Sunday dresses!

This weekend was one of fellowship and gathering around the table. There's nothing I love more than warm-bellied, smiling faces of friends around a dinner table. It's something special, for sure. Maybe my affection for it has grown for me since reading Bread & Wine, but I definitely have always loved meeting for food with family and friends.

When we still lived in Virginia one of our favorite things to do was head a mile down the road to our friends house and cook dinner together. We'd put on some music, pour some iced tea or cider, and dance around the kitchen while stirring pots and pans or chopping vegetables. We'd joke around that we were heading towards commune life, and oddly, we were all okay with it.
Even now, thinking about those memories brings a very special kind of warmth and sorrow to my heart. I miss it! But it was something so personal and wonderful to share recipes and meals and to go back and forth between each other's houses every other day. It was a little capsule of time that will always be very special to all four of us. It was outside of reality, because we were still in that extended college phase of life and meeting with friends for dinner every night was completely wonderful and normal.

This weekend we were able to call back those days with some friends from high school. We went to their house, holding a bowl of salad and a bottle of wine and we stayed late into the night sharing memories and stories and eventually digging into warm ramekins of piping hot pizzookie and vanilla ice cream. That's the good stuff right there.

I sometimes have the tendency to want to stay home all of the time. I love pajama time and TV time and reading time, and luckily my husband loves the opposite of all of those things too (dress-up time, party time, people time). This weekend was a great balance of the two, because we slept in on Saturday and I caught up on Reign and we were able to spend mealtimes with various friends and family. I call that a win.

character influence {frocktober, day 16}

I hope you don't tire of the sunset hour. It still takes my breath away whenever I waltz out the door to that perfect pink ridge of sky. 

We took these pictures among the bright green creosote bushes on my parents property. They're lovely little things up close, with little fuzzy white buds and bright yellow five-petaled flowers. They're the actual "smell of rain" that we all know and love in the desert. I have very distinct memories of walking up the driveway as a kid, hand outstretched to touch the many branches I passed, as if I was going through the high-five line at the end of a soccer game. I would always arrive at my friend's house across the street with that fresh, smoky smell of creosote on my hands. 

My friend Amber and I had such vivid imaginations as kids. As my husband and I walked around the bushes last night, I started thinking about all of the games and characters we would play around these patches of green and gold. It got me thinking about the many characters I encountered at a young age that truly influenced me. 

I remember very vividly when I began to say, whenever I was hurt or disappointed, that I was in the "depths of despair". Anne of Green Gables had a very vibrant impact on my personality. I wanted to be poetic, witty, dramatic, heartfelt. 

My early attachment to romantic gestures led me to the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice, which still gets me to this day. I love Elizabeth Bennet and her self-assuredness, her wit and her charm. Even better, I love that she admits that she was wrong. Although I would have too, for Colin Firth. 

I'm sure the gaggle of princesses I watched and loved had a pretty high impact on my love of dresses and jewelry. Camille from Little Nemo, Buttercup from The Princess Bride, Danielle de Barbarac from Ever After. And of course the Disney powerhouses, Jasmine and Belle. For obvious reasons, I always loved the dark-haired Disney princesses the best. 

Dress (shop!): Ruche, Cardigan: gifted (from Last Chance),
Lace Slip/Dress (remixed): old

Despite my affinity for sappy movies and female characters, I was quite the tom boy. My three brothers had a hand in that. I loved The Labyrinth and could sing along to all of those weird David Bowie tunes, and I begged my parents for months to let me watch Jurassic Park when it came out, even though I was only 5 or 6 at the time. Obviously my favorite Jurassic character was Ian Malcolm, who was obnoxious but witty and he was a survivor. He ended up being brave, risking his life to save the kids and charming us all with his Chaos Theory banter and sarcasm, not to mention his fetching thick-rimmed glasses. 

Then there was Philippe Gaston, played by Matthew Broderick in a little movie called Ladyhawke. I would call this a fairly sappy movie, but since my favorite character is a boy, I'm placing it here. He is the funniest little thief and was the sole cause of my Matthew Broderick crush that went on strongly into the late 90's, and still shows up occasionally when I watch Ferris Bueller or Godzilla. I love Philippe because he is honest and kind, and believes in the beauty of love, loyalty and sacrifice. I also love him because he says things like, "I know I promised, Lord, never again. But I also know that YOU know what a weak-willed person I am."

And lastly, there was the brave Atreyu, from The Neverending Story, that strange little movie that is better left to childhood recollections rather than watched as an adult. I blame him for my over-attachment to animals, because watching his horse Artax drown in the Swamp of Sadness while he screamed is something that still haunts me. I mean for real though why. 

I think characters that we love as children play such a fun part in who we decide to be, whether it's long-lasting or not. I don't still want to be Raggedy Ann, but I do cherish that Halloween memory of wearing her costume and watching her cartoon over and over. What a kind soul she is, and quite fond of candy and friendship. 

Which characters did you adore (and possibly imitate) as a child?