Tuesday, May 31, 2011

I'm presently obsessed

Harem pants.
I didn't think it would ever happen for me but. . .it did and now I'm all "Oh you can't tell where my crotch is in these pants? TOUGH".

Jump suits and things reminiscent of the 90s (okay, I'm always obsessed with things reminiscent of the 90s).

Is it costume-y? Is it sequin-y? Is it a jumpsuit reminiscent of the 90s?! I want to say something obnoxious like "fashion-gasm" but. . . I'll refrain.

Clothing that reminds me of calico cats? It’s odd, because it's honestly kind of dull. I mean, the color scheme isn't exciting and almost seems wrong. . .it's black and grey and funky shades of brown but there is this little part of me that wants to fold Pippa Middleton up and carry her around in a tote occasionally feeding her kitty treats and rubbing her belly. And then there is this other part of me that wishes Pippa Middleton and I were BFFs and I weighed about 63 lbs so that we could share that dress.

Lastly, Drake. How can you get enough of that smile?? You can't, it's science.

All photos credit

Thursday, May 26, 2011


Hi. I'm Sarah. 
I'm from the eighties. 

Anyone up for an episode of Alien Nation and some Push Pops?

Monday, May 23, 2011

Is somethin' wrong with your underpants?

Did someone on Facebook say something you don't like? 
You should probably get your panties in a wad about it.
And then, you should passive aggressively comment on said topic in order to let the entire Facebook community know that your panties are in fact, in a wad.

The passive aggression is necessary otherwise people might confuse you with someone who is mature enough to NOT GET THEIR PANTIES IN A WAD OVER FACEBOOK CRAP.

I have a friend who is a teacher in a third grade classroom and one of the tools she uses to help the students assess their problems is to ask them "is this a big deal or a little deal?".

My favorite part of this helpful tool is how belittling it sounds when used among adults. Because after you wave your wadded up panties around Facebook like a freak flag, I want to sit you in a tiny chair, look down at you and ask "now, is this a big deal, or is this a little deal?". And if you really want to say "big deal" (I know you do) I want to remind you that sometimes people say things on Facebook just to be controversial (i.e. get attention) and when you respond to said controversial topics in a manner exactly as they'd hoped, you are only feeding the insanity that is High School Didn't End When You Graduated. In Fact, It Only Ends When You Stop Acting Like You're in High School. So yes, I know someone offended your religious beliefs or said something political about the party they support, but let's be real- you aren't going to stop abortion and change each state's stance on marriage VIA FACEBOOK COMMENT THREAD. Even if it is 36 comments long. (Side note: everyone in that thread who isn't arguing with you, hates you.)

In unrelated news, there is this really cool feature on Facebook that enables you to hide people's posts. In other words if there are people who tend to repeatedly post OBNOXIOUS SHIT that makes you want to revert to the third grade version of yourself you can HIDE THEIR OBNOXIOUS SHIT. Also, there is this cool feature when you become an adult that enables you to shut your mouth and stop arguing on Facebook. It's that button at the top of your screen called Please Stop Taking Everything So Seriously.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Kinda like drugs, but cheaper

If you see me in the next two weeks and I'm still wearing this outfit it isn't because I'm too lazy to do laundry (serious though, I need to buy some new underwear) it's because this is my most favorite outfit ever. In fact, I'm not sure how I've lived so long without it.

 Dude, I'm smiling in the majority of these photos. That's what I like to call a thrift store high.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Sex noises

Are not an appropriate response to pain.

Not to mention, do I come to your work and make sex noises?

No. I do not.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

I'm a great catch. Oh, and I'm available.

So I recently accepted a new job in a new city. It's a very exciting adventure that I'm about to embark on and it is going to be a serious life change. Upon hearing this news this was one of the responses I received: "Oh! I bet they will know someone your age that they could introduce you to!". Because HOT DAMN! if dating is not PRIORITY NUMBER ONE. Forget that I am moving across the country and rearranging my entire life. ARE. THERE. ANY. AVAILABLE. MEN?

Do you remember the scene from My Big Fat Greek Wedding- the one where the dad and aunt and uncle are all sitting in the restaurant discussing sending Toula (the "old" single daughter) back to Greece to find a husband and the dad says "it's like she don't want to get to married!" and the aunt and uncle gasp in horror? I FEEL LIKE THIS IS MY LIFE.

Yes, I'm single.

Like, single single.

Like, hasn't been on a date in ten months single.

And yet. And yet. I still manage to get out of bed every day. But I assure you, it's only because I hold onto the hope that today will be the day. The day that I meet that special someone. You know, that someone who will end the constant heartache that singleness brings and give purpose back to my otherwise futile life. Because really, how else could I survive? Clearly something is missing from my life. As clear as if I were missing a limb or a vital facial feature, like. . .EYES. That clear. Because I swear sometimes when people look at me they cock their head to the side, as isn't entirely uncommon when you see a three-legged dog and think "Hmm, what's wrong with it?", until it hits them. The thing that's wrong with me. Then they straighten up, the color returns back to their face, and they get that twinkle in their eye- because surely they know someone who would date me.

Sure, it would probably help if I didn't have so many weekend Needlepoint and Crochet conventions at home with my 12 cats, and was out frequenting the Young Singles events at all the local churches- but really, my doily collection is BOSS. Also, my cats suffer from separation anxiety.

ALL THAT TO SAY. Hi, my name is Sarah. I'm single and I'm complete. I am not on an eternal quest for my other half. I do not spend every waking moment contemplating finding the completer of my soul, nor do I wish for other people to spend any of their waking moments doing so. Singleness is not a disease, disorder, virus, or infection that is painful and in need of a cure. I am able to happily spend time with couples. Happy couples even! And I. Don't. Hate. Babies.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go drink some laxative tea and brush my leg hair.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Friday, May 13, 2011

Guten Tahg

If you are looking for an outfit the does nothing for your height (or your width for that matter), this is it. Short pants, large jacket, flats. If you are looking for an outfit that makes you feel a little European and really cool, this is also that outfit.
And for your viewing pleasure, I give you The Most Awkward Photo Ever
"Yeah, this left arm over here, I'm not really sure what it's for. I think it's just extra".

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Forget puppies!

If ever there has been something that I need, it is an effing BABY BUNNY IN. A. SWEATER.

 Shut. The front. Door.


Sunday, May 8, 2011

Sweet peppers and culottes

Apparently there is a group of vegetables known as the Nightshade family. The reason I know this is because I have a friend who was home schooled- so she of course knows more really nerdy information than most people. Knowing more than others can be cool, except when you know more than everyone else and then you say something like "nightshade" and no one has any idea what you're talking about and everyone looks at you like maybe your mom bought the discounted version of your text books.

I went to public school. So when you say "nightshade" I think: Ooo dark jewel tones. Preeeettty.

And so, I give you my Nightshade outfit.

Also, check it.
(I didn't know what culottes were either until I asked my uber intelligent friend. Come to think of it, I really don't know what I learned in public school. Other than how to skip class.)

Monday, May 2, 2011

Love and tofu

I flirted with vegetarianism back in high school, and since I was in high school I thought it was a serious relationship. I mean, we held hands and wrote each other letters CLEARLY WE ARE SOUL MATES. Plus I was angsty and rebellious and needed to set myself apart from my peers, and the innocent little animals! Oh, the animals. . .

But you graduate high school, you meet new people, and next thing you know your eating lamb chops  and THEY'RE DELICIOUS.

Like any comfortable yet non-committal relationship, vegetarianism and I met up again (probably at a party one night with too much alcohol involved- I DON'T REMEMBER) and fooled around a bit. No more beef, or pork, and - because the first question any vegetarian gets asked is "do you eat chicken?"- no chicken. But, because I was young and eager to see what else was out there, I decided that consuming fish was okay. I mean, fish isn't cheating. Right? Especially if you're out of state or on vacation.

Well at some point I got bored I think, we had grown apart and I couldn't remember why we had even started seeing each other in the first place. Plus, bacon is a seductive whore. But we remained close, vegetarianism was still a good friend. You know the kind. With benefits.

It's been a few years since vegetarianism and I first met, and I've learned a lot - frequented the PETA website, watched countless movies and read books about the scandal and disgust of slaughter houses and meat packing plants (seriously- stop. eating. hamburger.), needed to vomit once after eating a steak because apparently breaking your vegetarian streak with a slab of beef is like punching yourself in the gut. No seriously- punch yourself in the gut- HARD. Yep, that's what it feels like to eat a steak after a few years of vegetarianism. Needless to say, our love affair has been through the wringer. But I think I know myself better now, I also know my way around a cook book better. Which is sort of like reading Sex for Dummies a few years into your marriage- "oooooh! So that's what's been missing!" Yes, she likes to be touched there, like that. You'd do well to learn it.

Well yesterday I took the plunge. I MADE A COMMITMENT. I became vegan. And you know what I had for lunch today? A head of lettuce. (Granted, it had balsamic vinegar, sun flower seeds, and ground pepper, but meat eaters aren't listening to that part now are they?). So after all these years of being asked "so. . .what do you eat?" I can finally say what they want to hear. Lettuce. Just. Lettuce. And guess what. I WAS SATISFIED. And I didn't even fake it.