Monday, February 28, 2011

It's that time of year

I'm gonna go ahead and be a cliché and talk about Academy Awards fashion. Because I can.
However, since I hold no legal certification stating My Expertise Is Better Than Yours, I'll keep it brief. (But you can be sure that when I get said certification I will be unstoppable).

For starters. My love and affection for this dress is enough to question my chances of ever getting married. Here's why: I would never marry a man who wears sequins and I. Love. Sequins. Also, how adorable is Amy Adams? Girl crush much? Uh huh.

Runner up for my heart:

Beads. Strong shoulder. Cate Blanchett. Swoon.

I'll be honest, True Grit made about as much sense to me as any anticlimactic Western with very little plot and a girl who loses her arm with a drunk and a pervert while trying to avenge her Father's death BUT thank you sweet girl, for dressing age appropriate (ie. not making anyone uncomfortable either by showing your underage body parts or by looking like you went straight from Homecoming to an awards show) and being uber adorable.

Due to my sincere affinity for the 90's I can momentary set aside my all encompassing annoyance of this woman and lack of respect for her 13 inch waist,  because a one sleeved, body hugging, black velvet gown. Thaaaaat's a win.

(Now, quick! Go fix your hair before I throw up!)

One last note. If you are. . .you know, about FOUR FEET TALL and. . . *ahem* busty, mmmm maybe don't cut yourself in half with a short shirt? And Lord knows I'm all about puttin' your girl parts on lock (and
He also knows that I'm all about the Bedazzler) but if you're going so far as to put your girl parts in body armor you'd do well to remember that nothing gets attention quite like things that sparkle.

Sadly, I found nothing too remarkable about any of the gentlemen (aside from Colin Firth, you know, being Colin Firth) because let's face it, they all wear suits. If they're trying to be suave, they wear a necktie, if they're trying to be charming, they wear a bow tie. Except for that Robert Downy Jr. He pulled a white-out with a neck tie and I'm. Still. Charmed.

All photos from here.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Not so gritty

When I first put this outfit on I thought "True Grit! I need a hat!" but then after I calmed down a bit (because I don't have the right hat, so what really is there to be excited about in life?) I thought "1940's Depression era, I'm a sad and haggard wife because my husband lost his profession in boxing after he broke his hand so he works when he can at the docks, and we live in a shack with our three kids whom we can't afford to feed" and then I realized that was actually Cinderella Man and I'm not Renee Zellweger, nor am I married to Russell Crowe (damn it!) So I comforted myself by putting on some jewels and some knee socks because if I'm not Russell Crowe's wife I might as well feel fancy!

In unrelated news I need to find an old cowboy hat and work on my Matt Damon fantasies.

 (dress,jacket,belt, and jewelry-thrifted, socks-nordstrom, boots-ross)

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Selling Yourself

This is a real ad that I saw on a real website. 

At first I was understandably creeped out; I can only imagine what kind of men you would meet. But then I got to thinking about it and I guess this makes good sense. I mean. . . Find something you like about yourself and then market it in order to find other people who would like that about you as well.

In unrelated news I would like to start a dating website for men who are attracted to ambitious and stubborn short-haired blonde women who spend way too much money at thrift stores and way too much time reading blogs, are afraid of thunder storms, and suffer from mild schizophrenia a few days a month. Also, must love dogs.

P.s. If anyone is brave enough to actually check out that website please let me know how it goes. I keep debating with myself the likelyhood of it being porn.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011


Saying that my skirt reminds you of Carrie Bradshaw = You can be my new best friend
(this actually happened, I wouldn't give tips on how to become my best friend*)

And if you're thinking that my skirt looks like an oil painting of upside down houses on a hillside, that would be crazy. 

*buy me chocolates and tell me I'm pretty 

photos by this one

Saturday, February 19, 2011


Did I just offer to help a man take off his pants?

'Cause that's not what I meant.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Bathroom banter

If you know me you know there are certain things that I don't like to talk about. If we're good friends I mostly lose this filter, but basically there are things I don't like to talk about in mixed company. Goings-on in the restroom being primary among those things. Call me prude, call me pretentious, I really don't care, and yes, I GET THAT EVERYBODY POOPS, but does everybody have to talk about it? Maybe some day we can discuss why I take the stance I do on private things, but for now let's just let it be, k? Because this actually isn't a post about poop.

But it is a post about things that bother me in regards to the bathroom. And as much as I want to list PLEASE DON'T PISS ON OR AROUND THE TOILET, I feel like that goes without saying. And if it doesn't go without saying it SHOULD go without saying because if you do not understand the concept of pissing INSIDE the toilet you were probably raised in a barn, in which case, when you feel the need to relieve yourself please GO FIND A BARN. Thanks.


I don't have an issue with public restrooms. I really don't. I mean sure, it's not a picnic destination, and there are probably people there that you wouldn't want to let watch your kids but it’s a bathroom, I'm really not setting my hopes too high. That said, I think people often forget that PUBLIC means PEOPLE. As in, IF YOU DON'T LOCK THE DOOR PEOPLE WILL OPEN IT. See where I'm going with this one?? I cannot count how many times I have walked in on someone on the toilet. Literally, on the toilet. And you know, maybe it's more awkward for them than it is for me but if you are the one using the restroom it's your own damn fault so please stop punishing me for your negligence. It gets really awkward when I'm at work and this happens, because not only "hey, I just saw you on the pot!" but "hey! I just saw you on the pot and now we have to be around each other for a few hours and pretend that we aren't only thinking about the fact that I just saw you on the pot!". It makes me feel icky inside. It makes me feel like not only are we talking about poop but that I maybe saw your poop, and seriously, I CANNOT HANDLE THAT.

Moving on.

Sort of.

Until today I had never before felt betrayed in a restroom. In fact, I wouldn't have even known what it could mean to be betrayed in a restroom. I was at a certain unnamed store (rhymes with Balmart) using the ladies room. This restroom was not particularly large, five stalls. Three of which were occupied, as I could plainly see and hear (they were rustling bags, okay?) And over their rustling of bags I could hear a lady leaving and having an interaction with a custodial gentleman who was inquiring if there were any other ladies still in the restroom. She said she wasn't sure. Wasn't sure?? Lady, are you blind? There are multiple bags on the floor! So she calls into the restroom "is anyone in here?" I waited, thinking that one or both of the ladies on either side of me would respond and it would be silly if we all responded. They didn't. I waited about seven seconds then shouted "YES!!". I wish you could have heard that panic in my voice. Imagine that you hate talking about bathroom things in front of men, in fact you refuse to talk about bathroom things in front of men. And now a man is about to walk in on you doing bathroom things to find out that it isn't just mirrors and make up and pink cushiony chairs with women lounging around smelling like roses blossoming in the sunshine on a late summer day! What if I hadn't responded? Would no one have? Would the other two women have just let this gentleman walk right in and SEE US? And let's say that poor guy walked in because NONE OF US SPOKE UP, how crazy and/or deaf would he think we all are? I know I'm being dramatic here, and okay maybe the other two women were on that same thought wave of hey let’s not all respond at once, but. . .Maybe. They. Weren't. 
As I was washing my hands one of the mute women joined me and I refused to make mirror contact with her. She didn't deserve to be in the women's restroom. She should have to use the men's restrooms that don't have stall doors if she doesn't care enough about privacy to speak up. Or she can just find a barn.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Inspirational quotes are like, totally inspiring

In the break room at my work a poster of a horse recently went up. It says "The horse embodies the wings a person feels inside".

To which, my response was "HUH??"
But that totally explains why the last time I saw a horse I thought "oh my gosh!! The wings I feel inside!"

We may or may not have grown up in the country.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Current Favorite Photo

Women are a treasure.
The sooner you realize this, the better your life will be.

Credit: suicide blonde

Sunday, February 13, 2011

I'm SO vain

As you can imagine, I've never heard my name mispronounced. Misunderstood, sure. I've definitely been call Tara, Karen, Dara, and even asked if "that's Sarah with an S?" over the phone before, but as long as someone can read my name, there is a 100% success rate on pronunciation. Growing up however, I often felt a little left out. Many of my peers would get their name mispronounced, why not me? So in response to feeling left out in my adolescence I've overcompensated in my adult life by responding to just about anything that sounds like Sarah.  

I always respond to "Sarah". Even if there are multiple Sarah's in the vicinity (which there almost always are) and it wouldn't make sense for someone to be addressing me, I assume they are. I also respond to "Tara". And more often than I'd like to admit, I respond to Sir. But honestly, if a fast talker with a Southern accent (is that an oxymoron?) were to say "Sarah" it would sound like "Sir", right? However, I, in all. my. vanity. out did myself the other day.

I responded to a sneeze.
As in, someone sneezed and I thought they said Sarah.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to get my own name tattooed on my ass.

Friday, February 11, 2011

No take-backs (okay, well there's sort of take-backs)

 These two ads were in the same local paper this week.

Is it really necessary to advertise vasectomies? I mean, that's like advertising for money. Or for. . .a shower.  As if someone didn't know that they needed a shower and saw an ad and thought "hmm that shower fangle thing sure looks nifty, I think I'll get one!".

Basically, if you're not already planning to get a vasectomy, you might regret being swayed by advertisements.

Also, hey! look at me, I wore this outfit the other day!

My roommate doesn't follow my blog but she does take my outfit photos so I guess she's breakin' even.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

I found my Valentine

Have you SEEN the Ralph Lauren Spring Collection? Swoon swoon. Swoony swoon swoon. But wait. Here I was, drooling over white and lace and kicking myself for not having long hair, when I see the Michael Kors pre fall collection. 


Shut. The front. Door.
Is there much that I love more than pencil cut cropped pants? Like, other than Jesus. No, not really. Then add color blocking. And Barbie-circa-1960 sun glasses. Then check and see if I still have a pulse because I'm pretty sure this is heaven. Michael Kors, if you marry me I will sing your praises every day for the rest of my life. Also, I can cook. (Don't I want to make a cheap joke about getting into his pants? But that would be inappropriate).

P.s. Rag and Bone, you keep it up and you'll be in the running for me to make dirty jokes about you too.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Don't look away

There are things in life that I don't understand.

And many more things that I'm not eloquent enough to talk about.

But read this. Because people are worthy of your time.

It will, like it did me, probably make you cry.

Especially if you watch the video.

credit: The dooce

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Monday, February 7, 2011

TLC is a life molester

WARNING: text heavy post ahead. It happens.

Do you guys remember when TLC was just Trading Spaces? Like, they had no other show. It was just Trading Spaces. Back when Paige Davis' voice didn't quite yet make you want to stab someone, and way before SOMEONE was having 19 kids . I can remember exactly when I started questioning the morality of TLC. It was during an episode of Trading Spaces. The home owner's ONE request was that they not paint her beautiful wood furniture that happened to be a family heirloom. And without a moments hesitation the designer painted it all. white. (Not to mention, he designed the entire room to look like the inside of a blue train car. Like, what purpose does a room that is painted entirely blue and white and resembles a train car serve? "This is our dining room, and this is our guest room, oh! And this is our train car room. Because we can't afford vacations so some times we just come and sit in here and pretend we’re traveling through the Swiss alps". Mmm I think not.)

Well then TLC had a show that documented couples and their pending children. A full half hour chronicling the preparation, birthing, and bringing home of your newborn. This is starting to feel a little too personal. 

Then it was Little People. Big World. Okay, hopefully this isn't too socially reprehensible to say but, It's the only size they know, so is it actually big? It's really more like Little People. Regular world. And now I'm just starting to feel morose because why are we documenting this? They have a genetic mutation they makes them really small, so we're filming their life.

And then they had a show about kids with Progeria. In case you aren't familiar with Progeria, this is what someone with Progeria looks like:

It's a disease that makes you age obscenely rapidly, and most children don't live past the age of 13. It's a show about CHILDREN. WHO. ARE. DYING. Like, who thought this was okay??

Which brings us to, the Worlds. Tallest. Children. 'Cause TLC has a show about them now too. In case you don't remember what adolescence was like I'm gonna give you a quick refresher course. If you are different, especially if you are physically and abnormally different, you. will. be. mocked. So let's take some kids who just don't get stared at enough, and let's put them in front of millions of people.

TLC is like the stage mom for people who are already really fucked up. Like, hey! how can I exploit you and make money off of you all while showcasing your face to millions of people?! Basically, if TLC deems you unusual or unfortunate enough, they're gonna come in with their cameras and their narrator, and they're gonna rape the shit out of your life. So if you have a terminal illness, crazy religious views, or in general are going through something that only your closest kin should be a part of, answer the phone, it's probably TLC.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Which aisle is the crab medicine?

I hope the story behind this involves my ex some lying cheating scumbag who has yet to find out that he got caught by his girlfriend, and while he was out she went into his apartment, ripped the literal location of his infidelities from his bed, and planted it where he would see it on his drive home. And I know that when he sees this he will not fathom that it could possibly have anything to do with himself, and likely think "pssh, poor sap. . .". And though I also know that this will not affect his douchery, I'm comforted by the fact that he will at least have to sleep on the floor for a night or two. I hope he lives in an unfinished basement that cats have pissed all over. May God give him crabs.

In all likelihood this is probably just some attempt at a political statement made by some hoodlums who had a can of spray paint in hand as they passed an abandoned mattress. But still, I hope cheaters get crabs.

Let's not end a post talking about venereal disease though.

My roommate was watching a movie when she consented to take my outfit photos, and as a general rule I immediately change into shorts upon getting home so the fact that I sat down next to her fully dressed was kind of odd. Of the month that we have lived together, so far this might be my favorite conversation:

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, but you can finish watching your movie first!"

*laughs* "you can be really awkward some times."


Yep. And I've got the photos to prove it.

P.S. Whoever can name the movie that this post title is in reference to gets extra points. Not points that are actually redeemable for anything, but points that go toward me thinking you are cooler than I previously thought you were.

(dress, cardi, clutch, & black bracelet-thrifted, jacket-trouve via nordstrom rack, tights-hue, silver bracelet and belt-brass plum, boots and earrings-gifted)

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Current Favorite Photo

At some point in my life unusual became fantastic and unique became exceptional. I always knew I would never get away from it, but I never thought I would want more of it. I do.


Harry Potter and the Alligator

My lil sis turned 17 yesterday. So I let her feed me and take my picture. She's pretty lucky to have me.

(So it turns out that when it's mother efing cold outside your photos either turn out really blurry, or really awkward. Guess which one this is!)

When I bought this shirt a couple of months ago I thought "this will be great next summer!" but then after staring at it for a few seconds yesterday I thought "why am I waiting until summer??" Please consider this me flipping winter the bird.

We kept it classy and celebrated the big one-seven at Dad's work. Crazy candles, alligator heads, and lots of muted walls. Hey, you only turn 17 once! 
(Please don't let the carrots fool you, Harry Potter is kind of a big deal in our family)

And because I love you, I leave you with this

 You're welcome.