Man Legs, polygamy, and the diversity of reality TV...

Thoughts and Observations:

1. It's rainy again. Of course it chooses to rain on a bunch of consecutive days during Fashion Week. Bah. I hope it clears up because my dress today is SO FUN and it really calls for outdoor pictures. Pretty sure we can call this a #firstworldproblem

2. Last night I dreamed that I was getting married again...while still married to Matt. As in, taking on a second husband. I didn't really want to, in the dream, but all of my real-life friends were pressuring me to, as well as the (cute) guy. I couldn't seem to articulate why I just really only wanted one husband, so I let myself be pressured into the polygamy, but the whole time I was like I am NOT talking about this on my blog. They would NEVER understand! So...there's that.

Yes, I told Matt the dream this morning. He confirmed he really didn't want any brother-husbands (male equivalent of sister-wives?), so it looks like my polygamystic lifestyle will be confined to last night's dream. Whew. Still, I'm slightly disturbed. What does this dream say about me??! Armchair psychologist opinions are welcomed.

3. Since five people (at last count) made comments about this, I feel compelled to overshare/shrug off the compliments/explain:

My calves. Apparently I inadvertently showcased them during my series of twirling pictures. And why is it that it's so hard for women to just take a compliment without replying with a bunch of explanations/excuses/additional information you didn't need to know about...??? For example: Your hair looks great! Thanks, but I really need a haircut. Love that outfit! Thanks, TARGET TEN DOLLARS!! You look fab, did you lose weight? Yeah, but I have a long way to go...stuff like that? I guess I fall firmly in that camp, though, because for each of the 'look at your legs!' comments, I'm mentally screaming BUT I LOOK LIKE A TRANNY WHEN I WEAR HEELS!!!!

And it's true. In high school, my friends affectionately referred to my legs as The Man Legs. They were so muscle-y and not-delicate...they were the Man Legs. (Hey, at least I shaved them...) I wish I could tell you that the scary calves are a result of tri-training or Zumba or anything else, but I'm afraid that I was pretty much born this way, and despite years of purposefully neglecting leg-specific workouts, they never really go away. And why would I want them to go away? Because I LOOK LIKE A TRANNY WHEN I WEAR HEELS!! And because in my mind, they're still the Man Legs. At home in workout clothes. Not much else.

So anyways. Now you all know one of my silly insecurities. Thanks for being nice and not calling them Man Legs, at least. ;)

4. Does anyone besides me and Aubrey watch Shark Tank? Dude, I LOVE that show, which is kinda weird because I'm not much of a business person and I have no desire to be an entrepreneur or own my own business...but Matt and I DVR every single episode of Shark Tank and nothing makes me happier than spending a night watching people debate valuation and business models and utility patents and cost of customer acquisition. GOOD STUFF. Last night one of the stories totally had me bawling (Me-Maw's Gumbo Bricks...anyone seen that one?). I just felt like you should know that I watch non-trashy reality TV sometimes, too. I'm very diverse.

That's it. You're bored to death and I need to work. Until tomorrow, ladies.

fashion week: summer ed.

 Like I said yesterday, this week is Diana and I's semi-annual (biannual? I really don't know the difference between these words. I could look it up, but that's a lot of work at 9am) Fashion Week. In case you were wondering, Fashion Week is something we invented a couple of months ago when I started working at the same place she works (not really a coincidence, she pretty much got me the job...hallmark of a GREAT FRIEND!) and decided that we should put all of the knowledge we gain from Pinterest and fashion blogs to good use in our own lives. And photograph it. And blog about. And subject ourselves to the laughter of our coworkers who mock our photo sessions. And that's pretty much it. FASHION WEEK! Boom.

Even though I was really excited about the Summer Edition with summer clothes and not-freezing during photo shoots, by the time Sunday night rolled around and I started planning my outfits, I was significantly less pumped. Suddenly I hated all my clothes. Or they didn't fit right. Or they were dirty, or I wore them last week, or they've already been photographed to death here (hello teal dress I wore for Easter, a baby shower, and about 5 other photo-heavy events...tired of looking at it yet?)...anyway, when the pedal hit the medal, I wasn't as excited. But damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead with Fashion Week...because if we waited any longer it would be way too hot (even at 9am) to get non-sweaty, non-humidity-ruined hair pictures, so the time is now. And here we go.

Monday. Let's be honest. It was way too hot to be wearing jeans, but I saw an outfit kinda like this on Pinterest and I thought 'I spend 95% of my day in the air conditioning, I can tough it out' and MAN was that dumb. It was way too hot for jeans (and hair down), but oh well. I still liked the outfit.

Dramatic blogger pic? I like that you can see my eye makeup, otherwise a picture this faux-dramatic (of myself) just makes me giggle uncontrollably.

I don't feel like looking up links for all of the pieces of clothing & jewelry, plus you probably don't really care where I find my semi-fashionable 'pieces,' but just in case you do-- actually, everything here is 'current season,' so if you really care and want to be just like me, I can tell you where it's from if you ask.

TUESDAY:

The Teal Dress of 2013. If it wasn't such a great color and so dang comfortable, I'd quit wearing it, but alas. I can't. It doesn't really do a thing for my child-bearing (only not) hips, but again. Comfort. Color. Those win.

Please know that this picture almost resulted in being attacked by a crow and a mockingbird that were fighting and suddenly declared Diana and I to be The Enemy. Not even lying. There was a lot of shrieking and hollering, which resulted in random people rushing outside to see what was the matter, which resulted in them laughing at the ridiculous places we'd climbed up to in order to...take pictures. Again. This isn't really the norm here. We're spesh. [Side note: Every time I write/say 'mockingbird,' I first write/say 'mockingjay.' HUNGER GAMES FTW!]

And then Diana decided that I should 'twirl' and she would take pictures. Here is evidence that 30 year old women should probably never do that:

Relatedly: Holy crap, my hair is long. And fro-ish. Thanks, humidity!!

Alright. That's all you get for now. It was misty-raining for our shoot today, so I'm sure those pictures are going to be super special once I get them uploaded. Try to get some sleep tonight as you wait in anticipation...but I know it'll be hard.

Peace out, playas.

roses are...

Well, around my house, roses are...

RED...

YELLOW...

and a fantastic orangey-yellow hybrid!!

And also (not pictured) hot pink and...another one that I'm not sure what color it will be cause the buds haven't opened yet.

Aren't roses FUN!! I planted lots of new ones this year (like all of these) because I felt like I needed more roses in my life. Even though all of these plants are still itty-bitty (except the red one) and have like 2 blooms each (and I have to basically crawl on my hands and knees behind other bushes to get close enough to take a picture like this)...they are doing great and showing great promise of beautiful days to come. Especially that last one-- isn't it FAB??! The picture on the left was from yesterday afternoon and the one on the right is this morning-- SO PRETTY!! There's a lot of squealing going on every time I see it, believe you me.

Speaking of roses...

Last night's Bachelorette, anyone?? Amazing. Actually, I don't know if the show was as amazing as the TWITTER COMMENTARY. Holy crap. Mollyanne was over to watch with me and we were both reading out the hilarity of the Twitter-sphere as we watched, and I must say...we nearly busted our guts. A couple times. If you're not looking at Twitter (and following @Possessionista) during Bachelorette, you're doing life wrong. Hate to be the one to tell you, but there it is.

Luckily, I emerged from the night with my bracket intact...my Final Four (and even final 6) are all still in the game, so I declare myself off to a great start!

In other news, today is Day 2 of Summer Fashion Week! Diana and I kicked things off yesterday with a predictably-awkward first-day photo shoot, but hopefully things'll get better as the week progresses! And hopefully we'll remember to take the pictures before it is 500 degrees with 381048% humidity outside, too. Because that's always fun.

That's all, folks. Off to read the Bachelorette recaps-- the best part of a Tuesday!

the two kinds: a scientific guide

There are two kinds of Pool Time. I engaged in both this weekend, because I'm just a diverse person like that.  Let's take a look at the features of each, shall we?

Pool Time A: The Fun Kind-

Features of the Fun Kind of Pool Time include a lot of time looking at this view,

with intermittent breaks to dive in and float around. Other key elements of the Fun Kind are friends and/or family likewise partaking in the Fun, regular reapplication of delicious-smelling sun protection, napping, and maybe even a friendly game of Dump Your Spouse Off His Float and/or See How Long We Can Keep This Beach Ball In The Air, if you're feeling ambitious. Fun Kind typically lasts between one and 10 hours. We happened to engage in it for about six hours on Saturday, which was an excellent decision.

The Fun Kind of Pool Time leaves you feeling generally like this the entire day:

I should probably be given some kind of Lifetime Achievement award when it comes to the Fun Kind of Pool Time...I've basically given my life to researching and maximizing the fun-ness of pool times, and I owe most of my expertise to my mother, who took very seriously her job of instilling the proper love of sun, water, reading, and frosty beverages into her offspring. I am perfectly content to spend all ten months of the Georgia summers perfecting my art even further...except for this teeny tiny matter of training for a triathlon that has sneaked into my life.

It seems that if I am going to be able to do the swimming portion of the tri, I'm going to need to...ya know...swim occasionally. One would think I could just incorporate swimming into my Fun Kind of Pool Time. One would be wrong. I mean, I tried. It comes down to a little matter of wardrobe malfunctions. There's a reason you don't see Olympic swimmers wearing cute bikinis from Old Navy. Yes, that is most likely because they are too busy swimming that they don't have time to do something as pedestrian as go shopping for swimwear. But it is also because cute bikinis are fundamentally lazy and prefer to only be around for the Fun Kind of Pool Time. The minute you try to make those babies work, they're like 'peace, I'm outta here.' And so there you are, swimming like a fish towards the deep end...and there your bottoms are, back at the starting line, drifting towards the pool floor and thinking about their next beer. Lazy bastards. So clearly I cannot do any swimming on a FUN pool day if I hope to keep my private parts private...which I do. Actual swimming calls for much more boring and muffin-enhancing swimwear, which I would refuse to wear for any more time than absolutely necessary.

Enter Pool Time B: The Workout Kind-

Features of the Workout Kind of Pool Time include ugly swimwear, albuterol inhalers, goggles, counting, a timer and/or workout app, pain, agony, misery, and a general fear of dying. A person engaging in the Workout Kind of Pool Time is too busy...working out...to take pictures during the process, but after they are finished and they peel themselves off the shallow-end stairs and regain normal breathing skills, they look something like this:

 The Workout Kind of Pool Time typically lasts between one second and 20 hours (if you're Michael Phelps). I managed to stick with it for 12 minutes on Sunday, which is how long it took me to do my prescribed 40 laps. The Workout Kind of Pool Time is not really an area where I strive to overachieve or go the extra mile (or lap)...I was in enough pain after 40 that I was pretty much dead and required a two hour nap immediately afterwards to become a human again. That's pretty pathetic, since in a few months I'm going to have to follow up my swim with...ya know, a fourteen mile bike ride followed by running a 5k. Yikes.

So even though the Workout Kind of Pool Time is clearly farrrrr less enjoyable than basically anything I've ever done except running the Fun Kind, I'm going to have to suck it up and designate a lot more of my future Pool Times to this. 

Want to know what Workout Kind and Fun Kind have in common? They both leave you with amazing and dazzling hairstyles in their wake:

Please. Try to contain your jealousy. Post-pool bangs are just about the sexiest things you ever have seen, I know.

So that was basically my weekend. Lots of pool time. And thankfully, the vast majority of it was the Fun Kind. Hallelujah.