Archive | May, 2012

In My {imaginary} Shopping Cart

16 May

Let’s just get hypothetical here. IF cost were no object and I didn’t have a baby and I were cool and edgy and basically the opposite of what I actually am, I would own roughly 90% of the items sold at Anthropologie (I say only 90, because about 10% of the stuff they sell is weird as hell* and just, no).  And today, because of that, I am feeling particularly woeful, pitiful, and pathetic because alas, tis {one of} the most wonderful time{s} of the year. The semi-annual Anthropologie Clearance Sale.

So just for the dang meanness of it, and because I have a dump truck’s worth of work to be doing but procrastinating in the form of blogging about imaginary closet contents is SO MUCH MORE OBVIOUS A CHOICE OF HOW I SHOULD SPEND MY TIME, DUH, I shall show you what I would buy if it were a perfect world:

Polka Dot Stiletto Crops in Yellow

{We all know pants this identifiable are just impractical – people would actually notice then that I’m wearing the same pants for the third day in a row, and we mustn’t wear air out our dirty laundry in public like that, shall we?}

Casting Wider Top

{This top made its way into my real life shopping cart except that I have a very grabby 5 month old and those pretty, perfectly spaced knit holes would look like a tattered fish net after about 5 minutes. Wah.}

Catalyst Dress

Verbatim Tank in Navy

La Primavera Pullover

{Again, let me paint you a word picture. 5 month old : intricate sweaters as water :  oil. Also, only available in a Large, but if that’s your size, BUY THIS, it’s only $29!!!}

Scuffed Stripes Pullover

{This is completely practical and half off… I don’t have an answer for why this isn’t on my body right now except good old fashioned guilt, which can go ahead and fly a kite as far as I’m concerned.}

Viveza Food Cover

{Ok, this I actually did buy, because it’s $12, it’s outdoor dining season, and it goes awesome with my kitchen curtains**, also from Anthropologie.}

Rosette Quilt, Purple

{This is actually a great opportunity for those of you who have asked about the quilt I made my little sister for her college dorm room*** – the real deal is on sale, so run, don’t walk to your nearest… uh… website.}

OK that is all the fictitious shopping cart we have for today because I could go on and on but I’m getting bored and sick of linking to the website because it’s making me depressed and crabby. Happy shopping, loves, and please go buy things so I can live vicariously through YOU! Cheers, dolls!

*Case in point:

**A glimpse of my curtains. Great match, for the food cover, no??? EXCELLENT PURCHASE METHINKS!

***My knockoff rendition, taken on a shoddy camera phone, because nothing showcases quality handmade craftsmanship like a flip phone.


Foot –> Mouth

10 May

Will someone please put a plug in me?!?!

And then there was that one time that I asked a Jewish man if it would be kosher for me to do something.

These are literally phrases that NEVER cross my lips. I can’t tell you the last time (if ever) I told someone I would “Stay out of their {nonexistent} hair” or if something is “kosher” oh my gosh my armpits are sweating just thinking about how embarrassing this is. It’s like I have tourettes!!!! And someone who actually has tourettes probably read this and is now going to write angry comments because now I’ve effectively offended bald guys, jewish people AND people with tourettes!!!! I swear, I don’t mean to be an asshole! It just… comes so naturally to me?? Oh my gosh!!!  What the hell is wrong with me!?!

Am I alone in this?? Has anyone else ever made a total buffoon out of themselves like me??? Crickets?? Awesome. Insert foot in mouth.

A Girls Getaway (with a one-legged, Asian Rapunzel)

2 May

Saturday night was the first time since Navy was born that I left him with his daddy and a freezerful of pumped boob nectar and hit the road for the Windy City with muh girlfriends {enter sort of sad sniffly goodbye followed by a celebratory bloody mary or two}.  It was totally hard to leave my boys behind, knowing that hello, it’s hard work and Navy can be a squidge demanding and he usually sleeps well but lately he’s been sort of a wild card and man, I need a break but he’s not even 5 months old, and and and… I was slightly conflicted about leaving him at what I consider to still be such a young age, but WORTH IT! SO WORTH IT!!! After 5 months of being with him for damn near 24 hours a day, it just feels really good to have 24 hours where I can wear clothing that doesn’t have puke stains on the shoulders and where the heaviest things my arms need to lug around are shopping bags, not a car seat.

We began the weekend at Grand Lux Cafe for brunch {CHEERS!}.  It was fun and hilarious and we were all like a bunch of slightly tipsy schoolgirls because “EEEEEE no kids AND cocktails before noon, WE ARE REBELZ!!!!!”

The gang, though I must mention this is only 1/2 of the gang – the other 5 were totally missed (and the 10 of us make up the most bitchin’ book club ever, keep your nerd-related comments to yourself).

After we drank ate breakfast, we headed out for a few hours of buzzed shopping, cupcake indulgence and eventually ended up back in our hotel room for more, howdoyousay, imbibing.  It was in said hotel room (a suite that looked like someone may or may not have been bludgeoned and drug bloodily across the janky carpet, though the fresh antiseptic smell would indicate that, at the very least, it wasn’t last night’s guest) that we were informed by our all-too-chummy bellman that the hotel is haunted by a one-legged Asian who looks like Rapunzel. Because OF COURSE IT IS! I’m sorry to say that 4 stars doesn’t guarantee a ghost-less sleep; and for 5 stars you can at least get semi-attractive, non-dismembered ghosts, but you know, we were saving our money for things that didn’t bear any eternal significance on our souls. Because you can’t un-see a Peg-legged Asian Rapunzel, so it’s a good thing she only hangs out on the 3rd floor (this, according to the bellman again, I don’t make this shit up) and we were spared her thumpy (or jumpy?) encounter.

I’ve heard that Skinny Girl is like an Asian ghost’s kryptonite, though I think that’s an unconfirmed fact, so I wouldn’t stay on the 3rd floor of the Wyndham if I were you… even WITH the trifecta of SG in your arsenal.

For dinner, we did some obligatory group primping, and though I wasn’t in a sorority in college, I would imagine that our fancification process was not unlike what the best of the kappa-kappa-yaya-whatever’s underwent on a nightly basis.

Dinner was a feast of raw fish and gimlets at Ra Sushi Bar, and guys? It was to die for. Who thought uncooked fish and sliced avocado could be so good. Also, who thought that a place could charge so much for food that isn’t even cooked? All they do is slice the shit and charge $15 for 4 pieces. I mean, that’s perfectly sensible, except that in order to balance the gimlets, I had to order 75 plates of food, and um… that got a little obscene. I don’t even care, it was chronic.

My big seester and I

Gimme da sushis in my mouf NOMMMMZ

After dinner (and a few cab rides involving one cabby thinking we were hookers on a bachelorette party, and another yet thinking we were members of the most dysfunctional book club ever… not too far from the truth on that one) we retired for a pillow fight in our panties. Not really, but you know, adult slumber parties, Garrett’s Popcorn and the dregs of pre-mixed margaritas lead to something like that… the details of the night remain to be seen, but it was a great time. It wasn’t even awkward that I was pretty much topless the whole time so that I could pump! HIGH FIVES FOR HANGING OUT WITH OTHER WOMEN WHOSE BOOBS HAVE NO DIGNITY LEFT! Or is it simply that I have no dignity and my boobs are just the innocent bystanders? Either way, it seemed totally normal, and my friends are so awesome they even went topless for a while too (don’t get excited… it was a whole lot less sexy mommy-orgy and a whole lot more “isn’t it funny to see Chelssie’s A-cup bra on my E-cup boobs?!?!”). Oh, the progression of slumber parties as you get older… It’s safe to say that older does not equal more mature.

Bad dog = tree eater

1 May

So yeah….