boob jail

City living forces me into a bra way more than I ever anticipated.

In my old suburb, the kids next door would knock on our door twice a year selling whatever and so, ya know, bra. But that was really it as far as visitors. No one bothered me much and it was pretty wonderful.

SWING LOW, SWEET CHARIOTS.

The city is a different/bothersome story.

Like, maybe your neighbor’s dog ran away and so he knocks on your door at seven f*cking forty-five a.m. to ask if you’ve seen it – jump out of bed/put on a bra/open the door, the answer is no.

Or maybe the neighborhood “scrap guy” who takes kids scooters without bothering to ask, but somehow feels compelled to knock on your door asking if he can take some of the wood you have piled up in your backyard for your bonfires – take a break from the laundry/put on a bra/open the door, the answer is no.

How about the mom and kid combo that come to your door OF ALL THE DOORS, demanding to use your cell phone because she’s lost – put down the coffee/put on a bra/open the door, the answer is no.

I’m usually a pretty reasonable/friendly person, but the answer is no because ya’ll either woke me up, or are just plain shady sometimes and so it’s like, I put a bra on for this…?

like lichen, only weirder

“…this honestly sucks. The juniors section is full of hi-low tank tops and short skirts, but it’s like – I’m 32 years old. And the misses/women’s depts. are full of khaki capri pants and flowery blouses. KHAKI CAPRI PANTS, NATE. Think about my life and tell me if you ever see me wearing those. Honestly, the best shirts are in the men’s section, but then I’m all ‘Oh, I really want this Star Wars t-shirt, but it doesn’t fit right because I’m not a f*cking rectangle’…”

“Geez, ok. So did you get anything?”

“Yea. Ripped jeans. From the Juniors section. Thanks, btw.”

He gives me the Kohl’s cash from his b-ball shoes purchase, I give him a pms-inspired earful of my thoughts on clothing choices – symbiotic relationship x infinity. (I kid, I’m probably the worst wife.)

mini me

The question I get asked most often as a mother is “oh my goodness, where did that red hair come from?” in reference to my youngest daughter, the only one of us who isn’t a boring brunette.

I wonder if it’s just a conversation piece or if people honestly don’t understand how genes work. The truth is that it came from me, which came from my dad, which came from his mom, etc., but people still look at me with unbelief, like I’ve stolen her from her rightful, unsuspecting, red-haired family.

To clear things up, if ever there was any doubt that the red-headed child who runs around here calling me mom is in fact mine, I overheard her yelling “CHANGE YOUR LIFE, MAN. And then, my gosh…change your clothes. Socks and sandals, come on.”

…

She also has my temper and ears, the poor thing.

nerdy nails – kylo ren

*SPOILER ALERT*

Me, after my first Star Wars viewing:

WHAT HAN NO WHY WTF.

Me, after my second Star Wars viewing:

TR-8R 4EVER.

Me, after my third (and fourth and fifth) Star Wars viewings:

KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN KYLO REN
(Publicly rescinding anything I had previously said about him, because whoa.)

And then I polished my nails.

Needed for this design:

• Black, silver, white, red, orange, and yellow polish.
• Striping brush
• Makeup wedge (for lightsaber)
• Matte topcoat (for mask and lightsaber background)
• SuperShine topcoat (for lightsaber and rest of nails)
• An obsession with Solo boys, I guess, I dunno.

nerdy nails – finn/phasma

Needed for this design:

• White, black, red, and silver/metallic nail polish.
• Striping brush.
• Topcoat.
• An evening to yourself. (I did not have an evening to myself and had to re-do the design a handful of times on account of having to fetch X-wing LEGOs from my dog’s mouth.)
• A Star Wars obsession.

dreadful: day six

Someone landed here the other day by Googling “i experienced a pigeon sh**” and I think it’s the best/funniest thing to ever happen to my blog.

Speaking of pigeon shi**, I’m still dreading my hair. (I kid about the sh**, of course, but the general public seems to think that’s a thing, so…)

I have no idea if/how they’ll turn out or if I’ll even like them when they do, but there’s a pretty good chance I’ll be all about it and I finally came up with whatever it is that a person needs to come up with to go through with something like this, so I had to.

That and it’s just hair.

Anyway, I’m letting them free-form and it’s going to take foreverrrrrr, but I’ll update every once in a while (obvs.) so you can all see how they’re coming along.

Right now I’m on day 6 of washing with residue free shampoo and not brushing.

And apart from that one morning where I woke up and was all “OKAY, IS THIS MY FIRST BABY DREAD OR IS THIS MARSHMALLOW FROM LAST NIGHT’S S’MORES?” … it’s going super well.

nerdy nails – comic con edition

Needed for this design:

• Red, blue, yellow, white, and black polish.
• Tiny brush.
• A dotting tool or two.
• Topcoat.
• An early (omgggg, early) morning all to yourself.
• Inspiration, e.g. GOING TO COMIC CON OMGGGGAFKLEFBSKNFKG.