Sunday, December 29, 2013

2013: Is it Over Yet?

Bloggers like lists & recaps. 
So here's my recap of my 2013.
It was a doozy. 

I quit my teaching job. 
Let the misery begin.

In reality, one form of misery ended
but the misery of being bored & unsatisfied & not knowing where my life was going 

I was convinced to take the LSAT --
at least something to occupy my time.
(I'm sure it will pay off in the end…maybe.)

March is a blur --
one existential crisis after another.
Pain. Lots of pain.

I started blogging!
Because misery loves company & attention.

Little did I know, people would actually want to 
read my millennial complaints.
My whining hit the mark
for more people than I ever expected. 
So, thanks for having the same #firstworldproblems that I have?

Meredith got married in Houston 
& gave me an excuse for a mini-roadtrip/forget about my troubles!
Plus, I got to binge-watch the newest Arrested Development. 
Oh, the disappointment.

LSAT, baby.
I swore I would only take it once
and I stay true to my word.

I took an extended trip home, 
because what else does one do when one has NOTHING to do.
I got a job!
I was unaware of the hell it would quickly become, 
so I was overjoyed.
Nothing's changed, except the smallest raise in the history of raises
and a different job title.

I moved back to Dallas.
Love the fact the my commute became almost non-existent
and that I'm closer to friends, 
hate leaving Fort Worth behind.
I adored my first (tiny) adult apartment
and living downtown
and the comfortable feel of Fort Worth.
But Dallas is cool too, I guess.

Also, Em got married!
SUCH a fun wedding.

Absolutely nothing but work & summoning up
the energy to see friends. 
This is what the rest of my life looks like.

I started working at Anthro!
Also, my first alumni weekend during which 
I actually felt a bit awkward being on campus.

KP visited Dallas, Em had a birthday, & I wore a monocle.
The best of months.

I quit Anthro.
I'm a one-job kind of girl, it turns out.
I demoted myself.

But New Year's Eve!
I love the holiday season because it's sparkly and Jesus, 
but NYE is the pinnacle of shimmery days.
It's actually frowned upon to NOT have glitter.

It's also a time of remixes, 
as we attempt to edit the last year into something better than what it actually was.
Hindsight & rose-colored glasses & whatnot.

So here's a playlist for NYE, including some fab remixes:

And always, always the DJ Earworm Remix:

Happy New Year!
Let's hope for fewer (or maybe better) life-altering decisions in 2014!

Monday, December 23, 2013

The Six Days of Meowmas

To get through the misery that is my (work) day, I set challenges for myself.
One day, I drank as much water as I possibly could.
Over 100 ounces and as many bathroom breaks, thank you very much.

This time, it was a weekly challenge that I didn't realize until Wednesday.
While putting together an outfit, 
I recalled what I had already worn:


(This is a homemade leopard infinity scarf, just FYI. Crafty.)

*Are we noticing a trend?
This is when the idea took shape.
Can a person wear leopard print to the office for an entire week?
More importantly, will anyone at the office notice?
Let's find out…


They're cuter in person. Promise. 

I made a bold move & wore this little number for a slow Saturday.

{Oh beautiful for leopard skies, 
for leopard waves of grain; 
for leopard mountain majesties
above the leopard plain!}

Day 24:
I showed up to work in my leopard snuggie. 
Still no one acknowledges. 
My meows for attention go unheeded. 
I'm growing worried that I can no longer survive without the leopard.
I found myself lapping milk from a dish during my lunch break.
What's a cat to do?
Please send help and/or catnip…

I'm still a person.
Obviously, if I were to turn into an animal, it would be a unicorn.
Plus, I hate cats.

In reality, either no one noticed the incredible amount of leopard
or they kept their awe to themselves.
Probs the latter. 

Just the family joking around for our annual Christmas card!
Merry Christmas!

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Me & Alex P. Keaton

I know by saying this, I'm jinxing it. 
But my history shows that, 
while I may be able to keep my thoughts from being vocalized,
I am not so great at stopping these little digits from 
diligently documenting my every idea.
I haven't been sick in a little while. 
And when I was sick, it was for a normal length of time. 
My ever-so-brief foray into teaching had me on my deathbed.
This time last year, I was the sickest of dogs
and no holiday cheer was to be found.
Having been raised by a doctor, 
I never go to one.
I can count on one hand and a half hands the number of times
I can recall going to the doctor.
(Obviously, going as a baby doesn't count
because babies need shots and are pansies.)

So this year, 
even though I despise my co-workers and I'm facilitating
the evil of work of the welfare state,
I am thankful that my place of work is not overrun
by grody guttersnipes.
I also love the fact that I can say, with 95% certainty,
(there's always room for error + people are disgusting) 
that I am not anywhere near someone else's bodily fluid, 
nor is it my job to clean it up.  

I've gotten past the easy, fill-in-your-information part of law school apps.
I now have to actually think and write and it sucks.
I don't have any dramatic story to use for my personal statement, 
and my resume is looking pretty sparse. 
I'm thinking about submitting the lyrics to this song as my personal statement.
Too bold?
(The band created this as a parody, but it's a decent summation of my actual beliefs.)

Because this post is so short & lame, 
here's two of my favorite things from this past week:
This was God's way of telling me there was a reason I haven't
been to WWofHP yet.
He's always got a plan.
It's supposed to open in summer of 2014, so happy birthday to meeeee.

And this:
Love me some pro-gun ladiez.

Friday, December 6, 2013

Bless me, Mother, for I have shopped.

What the what. 
I woke up to snow today.
Except it's really malicious ice masquerading as pleasantly soft snow.
But still
Work at the law firm was canceled, 
so I had one choice:
stay inside like a sane person or venture out onto the frozen tundra?
Obviously, there was adventure to be had.

Becca and I planned on DARTing to Mockingbird Station, 
but after we skidded & stomped all the way to the nearest DART stop, 
we realized the trains weren't going today. 
We were not happy campers. 
Like the stupid girls we are, we didn't let a silly thing like
black ice covering all the roads stop us from our shopping.
Becca drove.
We got there in one piece, 
but our bravery made us foolhardy and we then drove to NorthPark. 
Again, we're fine,
other than our ability to make rational decision. 

I might be nearing the end of my tenure at Anthro. 
It's taking such a toll on me, physically & budgetally, 
that I just need to stop. 
The thought of losing my discount frightened me, 
and I panic-shopped. 
Also, I had had some whiskey, so I was tipsy-shopping, as well.
The combination was both ruinous and fantastic.

I have a habit of calling my mom after I spend (what I think is) a lot of money.
I can be pretty cheap, but every now and again I go crazy.
Anthro brings out the crazy in me. 
Today, my mom said that she feels like my confessor. 
Except instead of giving me penance, my mother only gives absolution. 
She's a terrible influence.

Hopefully, with the end of Anthro comes a return to my frugal ways. 
I kind of don't have any other option.
Pray for my soul/bank account?

I've already made plans to pull my life together tomorrow, if work is canceled. 
If it's not canceled, then I guess I have an excuse for my life still being a mess?
The title of this blog post is sacrilegious. 
I apologize. 

Monday, December 2, 2013

Airport Etiquette

I spent an inordinate amount of time in the airport this past week, 
considering I was only home for two days. 
I figured the airport would be a madhouse on Wednesday afternoon, 
so I got to the airport a million hours early, 
only to get through security in literally 5 minutes.
Good ole Love Field. 
And I was dropped at the airport in San Antonio
a bit too early because my parents were on their way to a party. 
As such, I now consider myself an expert on airports. 
Ask me anything.
I could probably do a better job than any TSA agent, 
but that's to be expected, 
considering I have a halfway functioning brain and a smidgen of common sense. 

My hours in the airport were rampant with eavesdropping material. 
A few things you should never discuss in a public place:

-how the doctor removed your cyst

-the family problems you will encounter over Thanksgiving
(especially when talking to a stranger)

-anything said when sitting by yourself in the airport bar

I find it aesthetically offensive when people dress for flying
as if they are about to be put into a coma. 
Sure, the seats aren't super comfortable
but you're not sitting on a hardwood bench for days.
And if you were, those flannel monstrosities aren't going to help much. 
Neither are your skintight yoga pants.
Man up and wear some real clothing.
Ignore the "Peace Corps Volunteer" part. Just get out. 
Think about flying 50 years ago. 
People dressed.
As technology has increased, humanity's ability to wear non-elastic clothing
while in the air seems to have decreased. 
Being poorly dressed isn't a thing, so stop trying to make it a thing.

This post is going to have to end early. 
I just worked all weekend at Anthro. 
I was excited to work after Thanksgiving
because I could finally embrace all the holiday loveliness. 
But after a few days of the same remixed Christmas music on repeat, 
I feel like the holidays just curb-stomped me. 
I came home to a VERY large glass of wine tonight. 

I have another full week at the law firm
& then another weekend at Anthro. 
My next day off is not anywhere on the horizon. 
And now my eye is twitching. 

Sunday, November 24, 2013

An Ode to B. Spears

First off, 
can I just say how annoying it is
when someone at work mentions my age?
It's never in admiration. 
No one mentions how young I am
and is impressed with my go-getter attitude & the fact that I have a real job.
Any time my age is mentioned,
it's in a manner of doubt. 
When I was teaching, the other educators were constantly talking
about how young I was.
One even alluded to the fact that I would have her daughter
in my class next year and that she was a little leery.  
And, now, at the law firm, clients & co-workers alike
mention my youth as a sign of ineptitude. 
What do they expect?
There is no law saying young people
must serve five years as retail/fast food workers/babysitters
before obtaining real employment.  
And shouldn't it be an embarrassment that someone fifteen years your senior
has the same job?

Moral of the story:
I don't mention how old you are. 
Please don't mention how young I am. 

Back to ze blog…

(If you're a new reader, this might not be the post to start with.
Try one in which I sound intelligent and not fan-girly.)

Sorry, ladies & gents
(HA! Like anyone of the male persuasion reads my blog):
this one's a fluff piece dedicated to a lovely lady in my life.

I watched this commercial
on my way to a video of super-cute GWB being super-cute on Jay Leno. 
And it got me thinking. 

Britney Spears really does do what she want. 

Like, sometimes, I say it...
…but I know that I really will do whatever a higher authority tells me. 
I'm simply not as brazen as our Supreme Leader Spears. 

I've often threatened to shave my head
(mostly when it's a billion degrees outside because I have quite the mane
and it gets sweaty-difficult.)
But never have I actually taken the clippers to my locks. 
My girl Brit did. 
And she clearly enjoyed it. 

Literally, not a day passes in which I don't feel like hitting someone with an umbrella. 
As I do not have fame & fortune to fall back on, 
I have to practice restraint. 
Baby girl doesn't. 
And I envy her all the more for it. 

I also tend to practice some of that restraint with my clothing choices.
I would love to wear glitter and fur and animal print and tulle ALL THE TIME.
But, alas, I am not a Russian czarina, a lost Russian princess, 
or a member of the Russian mob. 
Maybe not so much the denim-on-denim, though. 
But I'll take a JT on my arm, any day. 

She made an absolutely awful movie
but we've all seen it at least once. 
If you say you haven't, you're a liar. 
This comes on TBS for a full weekend at least once a year. 
Sit down, shut up, and experience some girlfriend roadtripping. 
And then watch her guest star on How I Met Your Mother. 

I'm not obsessed. 
I mean, I hosted multiple Britney-only Power Hours
over my college career.
But that's not crazy.

I just think the fact that she's been freaking AWESOME
for almost 15 years is quite the feat. 

And she makes faces like this while listening to others sing:
Which makes me laugh because that's the face I make when others talk. 
She's a kindred soul & my (drunk) spirit animal. 

Happy early birthday, Brit-Baby. 

Monday, November 18, 2013


These are my latest faves from The Head & the Heart. 
I spontaneously went to their concert on Friday, and it was great.
For some reason, "Let's Be Still" reminds me of a Hilary Duff movie--
that might make it even better? 

I like my job at Anthro. 
It wears me out, and makes my feet hurt, and sometimes I get super stressed, 
but the people are nice, and it smells good, 
and the discount is awesome, and I'm surrounded by beautiful things. 
So it's worth it, in the end. 

Here are some things I've learned at Anthro, so far:

» The world is upside down

More people at Anthro have college degrees or are pursuing degrees
than at the law firm. 
I'll wait while you read that again. 


» Style is (relatively) subjective and ever-changing

I'm more adventurous, style-wise, than I was pre-Anthro.

(Sadly, I also put more care into dressing for Anthro than I do for the law firm.
Everyone at the law firm has glittery fake nails.
Sue me for not caring what they think.)

This is an acceptable work hairstyle at Anthro:
It makes me feel like a sumo wrestler. 
» Shoppers are destructive
The sale section. 
I spent an hour organizing the sale room on Saturday, 
all the while knowing that my work would be for naught.

Here's some friendly retail advice: HANG YOUR CRAP UP. 
If you are the reason something falls to the floor, 
you get to be the one to pick it back up. 
It is my job to sell beautiful things 
and help you find those beautiful things
and get you a fitting room for those beautiful things.
At the end of the day, I help make the beautiful store look beautiful again. 

It is not my job to pick up after you like some maid.

Also, don't leave your coffee cup tucked behind things. 
It's rude. 

» Never turn your back on a child

One: Children go straight to the egg timers
and set all of them to 10 minute intervals. 

Two: Children take the fragile holiday bells
and run through the store ringing them. 

Three: Children take the markers in the fitting room
and write fake names on all of the doors
so I have no idea which rooms are actually in use. 

To be continued, I'm sure...

Monday, November 11, 2013


This will be a short post. 
I can't find the energy or care to actually write anything. 
Here's a photo round-up of recent times:

Halloween weekend:
[Work; Eloise; a leopard]

Genius group costume
This past weekend was my friend, Emily's, birthday
& Kate came into town on her way to a business conference (ADULT). 
Friday night, though I had work in the morning,
we went to The Rustic & Katy Ice House. 
I wasn't planning on going, but Kate convinced me with this text:
She knows I'll do anything for a unicorn drink. 
Emily's husband and Kate planned an AWESOME one-percenter themed party. 
Everyone took is SO seriously and I have never had more fun. 
It's not pictured here, but I wore a monocle. 
Aaaaand I almost (drunkenly) cried at Whataburger because I couldn't find it
and apparently needed it to order. 
Proud & mortified. 

Sunday, my roommate & I went to the Dallas Arboretum 
because she won free tickets. 
Perfect timing because the Pumpkin Village was still there!
And I got to be Cinderella. 
However wonderful the past couple of weekends have been, I ended on a sad note. 
My best doggy friend died after 13 years of glorious pup-dom. 
We've known for a while that the end was near, 
so it wasn't a shock. 
And yet I can't stop crying. 
Is this a stupid reason to call in sick for work tomorrow?
I loved her more than I like most people, so in my mind, it isn't. 
Rest in peace, baby girl.
Anyone who tells me that dogs don't go to heaven is getting their tires slashed, 
in memory of Lady Godiva La Chocolat. 
She would appreciate that.