Fashion Friday: Birthday Emergency

A quick update on last week's post:  Thank you for all of the recommendations.  I bought a yellow bag this week!  (I bought the last one in yellow, so I don't have a good pic link for you.)  Looking forward to it's arrival, hopefully this weekend.  OMG, I just tracked it and it was already delivered, today!  I felt safe ordering it, since I'll be able to take advantage of Zappos free return shipping if it doesn't work out.  We should all shop together more often.  ;)  

On that note, I realized today, with a little shock, that my birthday is in two short weeks. Holy balls!  (That's a Dude-ism, and a good'un, at that.)  This is a near-emergency situation. I'm a total birthday princess/snob, so that means that I must have a new outfit for the occasion.  Generally, this means a new dress and new shoes, at the very least.  And often, finding the perfect dress means ordering something online - so many more options!  So, if we're all keeping track here ... that means, including shipping time, I need to find something by Wednesday, to be safe.  See?  RED ALERT!!!

My birthday actually falls on a Sunday this year, which basically means I need a whole weekend's worth of birthday outfits.  (No arguments, please.  I already have a father.)  I think Saturday evening I'll be doing dinner and other evening festivities with girlfriends, and then spend Sunday with The Dude.  So far, I think I've got the Sunday outfit covered.  Praying for warm weather, I'm planning to wear:  

This dress ... 

... with this belt, in tan ...  

... and these shoes.  

Probably just some dangly gold earrings and a chunky gold ring for accessories, as there's already a lot going on with the print.  If the weather is really chilly, I suppose I'll add a boyfriend blazer.  But I have hopes of sitting outside in the sunshine and sipping margs, so I'm really hoping it doesn't come to that.  

By the way, the dress is an ebay find.  I'm a huge (HUGE!) fan of ebay.  I could waste hours and hours of a workday perusing ebay.  (I said "could" ... just a hypothetical!)  One minute, you're just looking for a great yellow bag, and the next minute, it's, "oh, maybe I should just see if there are any new Tory's listed ..."  And before you know it, you've been sucked into the black hole.  

As for a Saturday evening get-up, I haven't found anything I love online yet.  So I'm guessing I'll be making a trip to the mall this weekend, hoping to find something great.  If not, I have a couple of backups.  I just don't feel like spending $158 on a dress I'll spill raspberry vodka on the first time I wear it ... 

Hope y'all find a good reason to do some shopping this weekend!  I'm definitely starting to catch the Spring shopping bug.  Happy Friday!

Since U Been Gone

I'll post Part Two from yesterday's post later ... needed to get this one out of my system!


I haven't spent much time here discussing The Ex.  Other than to mention that I was getting out of a pretty serious relationship when I met The Dude.  

Without getting into an excruciating diatribe recounting the many ups and downs of our relationship, I'll try to summarize it like this:  I was young and stupid and didn't have enough confidence in myself.  I let myself be strung along for multiple years.  Some of those years we were seriously dating, others we were simply best friends.  It was always up and down. It was mostly torrid and unhealthy and sex was a factor, even as friends.  I'm not proud of the lack of respect I showed for myself, but I don't regret those years.  I learned a lot from them. And after spending so much time in a healthy, loving relationship after that toxic one, I am confident that I am not damaged goods as a result.  So really, the most painful part is just admitting that I was in such an icky relationship for so very long.  

But I don't want to discount it completely.  The Ex was my best friend for a very long time and we did have good times.  I met him early in college, and in many ways I feel like I grew up with him.  For a while, I really thought that time and distance would allow us to be friends again, down the road.  That's probably why I opened myself up, each and every time he called or texted or emailed, claiming to miss me and wanting to rekindle our friendship. But then he would just simply disappear.

With the help of friends - and the quiet support of The Dude - I've finally started to realize that for The Ex, it's just about control and manipulation.  I'm confident that he sees it as a game, testing to see whether he can reel me back in, just to shut me out again.  I know that sounds dramatic and a little ridiculous, but it's what he does.  

After he reached out to me again this last time, by friending me on Facebook, I gave him yet another chance.  I'll be honest, it feels good for someone to tell you that they've missed you, and I was hopeful that he was serious this time.  I gave it a couple of months, but things soon went downhill.  And now, he has decided to attend an event I had already RSVP'd for, for a group he admittedly has no interest with or connection to.

The Dude will be there with me, and I will look beautiful and happy and proud to show off my hot boyfriend.  (He has promised to be on his best behavior.  When I asked what he meant, he said he would resist "the urge to drop him."  I swooned.  Back me up here ladies - a man who's tough enough to say something like that, but smart enough to realize it's not a good move?  H-O-T.)  I hope we won't be forced by tight quarters to make small talk.  But if we are, I will be polite and friendly, but ultimately noncommittal and disinterested.  

Those who know me well would tell you that I'm a fan of tough love.  I can be a bitch.  But they would also tell you that I have a big heart.  I let people in, and I get hurt, over and over again.  I just think it's part of life and part of living, so I don't often regret it. There's a lesson here that I need to learn, though.  Sometimes it's ok to just shut the door.  The chances have run out with The Ex.  No matter how many times he comes back, no matter how many times I let him in and hope that he'll live up to his word this time, he will always disappoint me.  To him, it's a game.  And as hard as it will be for me to shut him out - completely - I'm done being his pawn.  

I will be having a blast tonight and it will have nothing to do with him.  But probably a lot to do with The Dude, Mary El, Katie, Jane and all the other awesome people who will be there. And all the new friends I will make.  I'm not the girl he broke up with - I control my own happiness now, bitches!

Love Is Hard

Last week, in the spirit of Valentine's Day, I felt it was apropos to return to my reminiscing about The Dude and I, circa 2008.  But then, I started writing and it just got a little out of hand.  I have a lot to say for this one, and it's long ... so I'm breaking it up.  This is Part One.  

I've previously recounted the story of how we met, as well as The Dude's urging that we make our little horse-and-pony-show exclusive.  And after that, there were some ... bumps in the road, shall we say? 

As I've mentioned before, The Dude and I were both coming out of long-term relationships when we met each other.  And even though we'd taken our time getting more serious, these are often tricky waters to navigate when we had each been hurt so recently before.  I like to think of these as reasons why it wasn't completely smooth sailing.  

But to be honest, it's just real life.  I wouldn't say the rough waters were unique for us, in any case.  Relationships take work and compromise and even then, they don't always go as planned.  I've told my friends before that within the distinct stages of a relationship (Generally:  1. Hardcore lust and infatuation; 2. Deciding to be exclusive; 3. Saying "I love you"; and 4. In it for the long haul), I think the middle stages are the hardest.  I don't think that's an earth-shattering statement; most would probably agree with me.  However, I do tend to think I might have a unique take on why these stages are the toughest.  

In the first stage, of lust and infatuation, you are just having so much fun and enjoying the novelty of someone new that you roll with the punches and enjoy all those good feelings. Yeah, you might be seeing other people as well, but it's really that main person that gets your adrenaline pumping.  Eventually you realize which person it is that does that for you, and you make the decision to spend more and more of your time with that person.  

And then things start getting real.  You have to see her without makeup in the morning, acting ten degrees of cranky before she's had her morning coffee.  You're surrounded by his clothes and other crap strewn all over the apartment and realize he isn't always so considerate as to put the seat down or change the empty toilet paper roll.  

But, you stop and remember how good things felt at the beginning, how much fun you really do have with this person, or just how you don't want to start the process over again ... and besides, everyone has their faults.  So you decide to take a deep breath and not let those little things scare you away ... and at some point, you make it exclusive.  

As you keep trucking along, spending more and more time together and intertwining your lives, eventually you wake up one morning and realize ... all those things that used to make you think you needed to run the opposite direction?  They're now the little things that you love about that person.  The things you'd miss if they weren't around.  And I like to think that's how you know you're in love.  Once you work up the nerve to express that to each other, it's generally a one-way ticket to happily ever after, as long as nothing tragic comes along to derail the love train.  (Such as infidelity or other betrayal or - ahem - challenges of geography.)

Here's why I think it is tricky to get to stages 3 and 4.  We're humans.  We love attention, we love to feel desired, we like feeling good about ourselves.  I believe that when starting a new relationship and realizing that someone likes to a) see you naked and b) stick around to listen to you talk after they've seen you naked, your ego soars.  It's a huge confidence booster!  Knowing that you are loved by someone else makes you feel good, and nothing is more attractive than a confident person. So you flirt more, just in general even, and get more attention.  You feel even better about yourself.  With all that going on, it's hard to make yourself focus and realize that you only want to be with the person who made you feel that way to begin with. 

So you can probably see where I'm headed with this.  Between stages 3 and 4, The Dude was feeling pretty confident ... 

(To be continued!) 

Fashion Friday: The Search Continues

So now that spring is in the air (don't even try to scream at me about the weather forecast for next week, I'm closing my eyes, plugging my ears, singing "LALALALALA" and enjoying this gorgeous-ness while it lasts!) ... I'm ready to create my must-have shopping list for Spring.  It's always good to get an early start.  I like to put together a top five to keep in my head when I'm out shopping between now and April.  Gives me time to look around for the best deal/style/quality and get a jumpstart on the season.  

Anyway, I still have to put together a complete list.  But the recent weather reminded me about an item from last Spring's list that I never found.  It will definitely be on the list again this year.  The Perfect Yellow Handbag.  

I'm kinda picky about this.  I don't want a too-mustard-y yellow and I also don't want a too-neon-y yellow.  Pastel yellow is a little on the "eh" side.  I want a perfect sunshine yellow.  I don't want perforated leather and I don't want pleather.  I want a good, sturdy shape.  (More than anything, I hate thinking I found a perfect bag, just to carry it around for a day and realize that the weight of all my crap is causing it to sag in the bottom.  No one likes a saggy bottom.  It applies in so many different scenarios.)  I want nice, chunky hardware and plenty of room inside.  A fun, print lining doesn't hurt.  And outside, front zippered pockets or flaps always make me love a bag more.  

Am I asking for too much?  Nah.

Anyway, last year I just never found the perfect yellow bag.  And I get serious yellow-bag-envy when I see one marching down the street.  So I'm renewing the search.  (I mentioned this to The Dude while we were standing in line for Where's The Meat this afternoon, and I think he tried to stiffle a groan. Whatevs!)  No flippin' way am I declaring defeat this year.  I might just have to suck it up and pay more than I'm hoping to, but the simple fact that I'm still yearning for a perfect yellow bag a full 12 months after my obsession began tells me that it's worth the investment.  To me, it would be a classic piece.  

Do you have any must-have pieces on your Spring Wish Lists yet?  

The Dude Manual

So after reading my letter to him, The Dude was a good sport and actually excited to write an Owner's Manual himself. Here's what he sent me, nothing censored!  (He's hilarious, do you see why I love this guy!?!)  

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Hey Sassy, 

The long awaited “Dude Manual” has arrived.  I can only hope that this helps you, and maybe ladies everywhere, understand us guys (please keep in mind that while this is written by me, based on conversations with friends and family members, it also generally reps all males.  Sorry guys, if I’m going down, so are all of you).  Happy reading. :-)

First of all, because it’s almost Valentine's Day, we’ll start with that.  It’s a big deal to me ... mainly because it’s a big deal to you.   It’s like a lot of other things;  all we need is a little push, then we're all in.  If guys had the same emotional connection to V-day as girls did, the end result would be just short of a nuclear holocaust.  Can you imagine the tears/anger/enjoyment everywhere?  It would be palatable.  You could literally taste the emotions in the air as you walk down the street.  But we care about it, and make the monstrous effort, because it makes you happy.  And ultimately, that’s the goal for any guy who has a special girl in his life (other than the obvious underlying motives).

Let’s talk about everyday life now.  You are incredible enough that you take the time to make each of us lunches for the next day, without complaint.  Now, while I think you do it because you know that if I could be fed Five Guys I.V.-style every day, I’d have more track marks on my body than the druggies on “Intervention” (but not between my toes, cause that shit would hurt).  But it’s also healthy and you’re sweet to worry about me ballooning up (although I still can’t seem to convince you that if you put lettuce/pickles on the burgers, it’s still a veggie).  I repay this by springing for “cheat Friday” lunches as often as you let me, which is important to me because, being the southerner I am, I feel that guys should do those things (along with opening doors, which doesn’t get the appropriate response from the locals that I’m used to).  

Weekday evenings are fun because they’re nice and lazy, and after working all day, that’s all any guy really wants to do.  Sit, watch TV/movies, and relax - ala Al Bundy.  We don’t want to come home, kick off the shoes, and get handed a honey-do list before we can even set our bag down.  Trust me, everything that’s on that list can wait until either later in the evening or even the weekend.  The apartment will not explode and life as you know it will still go on.  I get the fact that you have certain timelines in your head that you want all this accomplished by, but we’ve blown off enough of these tasks in the past to know that they can wait.  

And, as I’ve heard, it’s ok for us to take unscheduled naps throughout the weekend.  I can only look with pity at my friends when I tell them I took a nice 2-hr nap on a Saturday.  I’m well rested and they look like they’re coming off a 3-day 8-ball binge.  Ladies, let your man sleep if he feels that he has to (but don’t let him abuse it, cause we will sleep only as long as you’ll let us).  Nighttime comes, dinner is done, and the appropriate thing to do is to help clean up.  It’s logical, since we dirtied up our plate and the food we ate came out of the same dish, that we help clean.  Can’t really argue this one.  And then it’s off to bed to read/watch tv/fool around (personal fave of The Dude, as I’m sure of guys everywhere).  While you are, in our eyes, absolutely gorgeous in anything you put on, it really makes the night complete when you strut out in the lingerie.  Now while I know this is not an every night ordeal, it’s the once in a while times that make it special.

Decorating.  Ok, and this is straight from the heart, we don’t care about decorating.  While we might get something right every now and then, more often than not it falls on deaf ears.  I think Denis Leary said it best:  Out shopping with my wife.  She pointed to a chair and asked, "What do you think about that chair?"  "I think they suck."  "Too late asshole, we just bought 20 of them."  Then we spend the rest of the time convincing ourselves that they look good.  Now, I know that you’ve asked me about the shelves and the butterflies over the bed, and that I’ve been dead-on right for those, but the more you ask my opinion, the higher the likelihood that my opinion is going to be worthless on something you ask ;)

Date Nights.  This can be tricky because I know relationships are all about compromising and things like that, and I wholeheartedly agree with that.  BUT, when it comes to places to eat, trust me when I tell you that guys really don’t care.  We can find something to eat at any place that we go.  If it has some form of meat, we can make it work (takes me back to my “casserole” days with my brother.  We would mix whatever we could find in the cupboards, then throw a pound of ground beef in there, and it was AWESOME.  And cheese.  Gotta have cheese).  The entertainment is where it requires compromise.  I’m a realist and know that you can’t laser-tag and paint-ball and action flick every date, but you have to know that romcoms and stargazing and skipping hand-in-hand down the boardwalk can’t go on all the time either (unless we’re pegging people with painball guns as they skip).  So come to a good compromise with us, and everyone will go home with a huge smile on their face, ending with the last part of the above paragraph.  ;)  (hey, just throwing it out there).

And there you have it Sassy, just a slight insight to what your guy is feeling/thinking.  While I’m sure this isn't everything, it’s what is pertinent and on my mind right now.  Obviously if there is anything else, you can ask and I’ll do my best to answer. 

... All this being said, you do all of this.  There are bumps every now and then, but it makes us stronger. Our relationship is pretty much give-and-take, and that’s absolutely how it needs to be for any relationship to succeed.  Guys don’t want to feel like “yes men” and you, I’m sure, don’t want to feel like you’re high maintenance and naggy.  And you are neither. :-)

Love, 

The Dude.

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If any ladies have relationship or men questions that they'd want to get The Dude's clearly wise and astute opinion on, I think I could even talk him into a "Dear Dude" post here and there ... just sayin'.  

Fashion Friday: Seen on the Street

Ok, so after giving myself a little fashion challenge last week, I rallied pretty well.  The week started out slow, but I didn't wear anything I had worn in the past two weeks (I know this is a low benchmark, but I was going through a rough period), managed to even wear a skirt and heels one day, and am rocking a cute dress, tights and riding boots with a scarf looped around my neck today.  Score!  So ... that means I'm also back in the saddle for gettin' snarky about others.  Just a quick and dirty rundown of some of the fashion flubs I've seen on the street this week:

1.  White Denim in February:  I can't even conceive a possible excuse for this.  Just ... no.  

2.  White Socks with Mary Janes:  Unless it's part of a Halloween costume, I don't see how this is acceptable over the age of twelve.  Anyone who tells you this looks cute is just trying to find a way to cover up the snort of laughter they have bubbling inside.  

3.  Rats Nest Hair:  For the love of beetlejuice, buy a brush. And USE it.

4.  Size Matters:  Pants that are too short - or too long - look silly.  If your pants are the perfect length for your favorite ballet flats, they are not also the perfect length for your favorite three inch heels.  

5.  Too Much of a Good Thing:  Black fishnets plus gray cowboy boots plus rose-patterned gray sweater dress plus navy, short puffer coat?  Hot mess.  (Seriously, I just saw this at lunch.  Ask The Dude.)  Generally, you should stick with one "showy" item and wear it tastefully.  The fishnets/cowboy boots combo was already toeing the line, but it could have worked with a simple black sweater dress and coordinating coat.  Don't try to cram all your favorite pieces into one outfit.  

On another note, I'm really excited about the warm weather trend that has started.  But ... I know it means next week will be a cesspool of mass transition-wear confusion.

Dear Dude - An Owner's Manual

I recently read Flying Stiletto's letter to her husband, as a sort of wife's instruction manual, and was inspired to write something similar, to The Dude.

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Duuude (hahaha, I just made myself laugh really hard with that) - 

I know we've been dating for quite some time now, and sure, maybe this would have been helpful back around, say, month six, but ... better late than never?  Anyway, especially with Valentine's Day approaching, and in hopes of avoiding a repeat of the Debacle of 2010 (don't ask, people), I've put together this handy little guide.  It's like my owner's manual.  What makes me happy and keeps me happy.  If you want to send me yours, that would be fantastic, too.  Actually, I would probably post it here.  Ok, here goes.  

Kiss me on the forehead and tell me I'm beautiful.  Seriously, this fixes almost everything.  When you think you're doing it too much? Do it more.  

If you think I look sexy, tell me.  It's never cheesy and it never gets old, I promise. (Especially if you throw in a "ggrrr" from time to time.)

Do something to surprise me, every once in awhile.  You know I'm a planner, but that doesn't mean it's ok to say, "I don't have to plan anything, because you're so good at it!"  I like feeling romanced, and knowing that you took the time to plot, plan and prepare something for us is romantic to me.  I don't need flowers all the time or extravagant, expensive dates.  (Yes, I'm obsessed with watching The Bachelor, but I still realize that's fantasyland.)  But little things matter.  I know you love me and I know you care about me, but showing it wins you major points.  With women, it really is the thought that counts. Particularly with this woman.  Even if it just means stopping to pick up a pint of ice cream when you know I've had a super wretched day.  (Come on ladies, you know this counts as planning!)

Holidays matter, cards matter.  This one should be written on a little piece of paper, laminated and carried in your wallet.  I'm not fussy and I don't require expensive, fancy gifts. However, you will be walking into a nuclear war if you don't show up with a card.  I'm just being honest here.  Hell, you don't even have to spend money on the card - handmade is WAY better, anyway (I'm not trying to say I want you to be cheap, just that I'm not high maintenance, of course!).  Again, it's the thought that counts.  

Ok, maybe I lied.  I might be a little high maintenance.  On special holidays, like my birthday, our anniversary and (to an extent, even though it's a over-the-top holiday, I still don't want to be the girlfriend who has to proclaim that it's an over-the-top holiday to cover my disappointment over not celebrating it.  I want to be just like the other girls, and be spoiled with love on this day!), yes, Valentine's Day.   So yeah, I expect a little something on those days.  You know me well enough to know I don't like roses and I don't need over the top crap ... I just don't want to feel like you forgot the day, that's all.  Seriously, it's the thought that counts.  (And not thinking, aka forgetting, is very, very bad.)

Fix things for me.  Take out the trash sometimes.  Offer to take my car to get the oil changed.  (Ok, I actually don't have a car, but you get the point here.)  Sure, I can do all of these things myself.  But sometimes I want to feel protected and looked after, too.  

Listen when I talk, talk when I listen.  (This one you should probably tattoo on your palm.)  Girls are emotional creatures.  We like to nurture and be nurtured.  And most of the time, we do this through conversation.  We want someone to listen to us when we talk, even if we're prattling on about that girl at work who always looks us up and down when we run into each other in the bathroom.  We feel connected to you when you listen to us.  And we feel even more connected to you when you tell us stuff, too.

And, ya know, just for good measure, it bears repeating ... tell me I'm sexy.  Walk into the kitchen when I'm cooking us dinner and kiss me on the neck while you tell me things smell delicious.  Smack my butt when I bend over to pick up your dirty socks again. Tell me I'm beautiful, especially first thing in the morning.  Drag me back to bed for an extra kiss when I try to get up for the shower in the morning.  Kiss me on the forehead.  Tell me you love me.  Tell me you love me, while kissing me on the forehead.  Tell me you love me.  

Thank you for humoring me and reading all of this, babe.

Love, 

Sassy

(For the record and for anyone who doesn't understand that this is satire, The Dude is a bonafide, confirmed Unicorn.  Nine times out of ten, he does all of this without needing to think about it.  We certainly would not have lasted this long if he wasn't already such a good man.)

Fashion Friday: Return of the Winter Blahs

I have a bit of a morning problem.  I never have enough time.  It doesn't matter how early I get up, I always manage to squander away the extra minutes on something.  Maybe it's a little extra time on my eye makeup.  Maybe I decide I finally have time to run the fabric shaver thingy over my coat, just real quick.  Or maybe I look in the mirror and say, "heyyyy, totes have an extra 5 minutes to pluck my brows this morning!"  

So I try to do what I can to plan ahead and help myself out a bit.  This involves putting our lunches and breakfast stuff together the night before, so we just reach in the fridge and grab our respective reuseable bags.  It sometimes involves showering at night and blowing out my hair and then trying to sleep really carefully, so I don't have to do it all over again in the morning.  And it nearly always involves planning out my outfit for the next day, the night before.  I mean, I can barely get ready in time when I have my clothes, shoes, jewelry, coat and scarf all picked out in advance.  But if I have to try on different variations, checking whether these shoes look better with those pants or whether I should go with pearls or a dangly silver necklace?  I will be approximately 87 minutes late if I go that route.  

And so, I usually at least have a mental image of what I'll wear the next day before I go to bed that night.  Usually, I pull out all the pieces - especially if it involves a well-buried pair of shoes - and set it out the night before.  About twice a month, I take maybe an hour to go through my closet and try to put new outfits together.  I need to mix things up, but I also need to actually see the look put together to know it's going to work.  If I have to, I try things on that night when planning the outfit for the next day.  Nothing screws the pooch for me in the morning like thinking I'm all good to go, putting on what I thought would work and then stepping in front of the mirror to realize, "holy hell, I look like a train wreck!"  And then ... I'm 87 minutes late.  

So, I'm telling you all this as intro, because, basically, I've been a giant failure lately.  I've been breaking my own rules.  I've felt way too blah over the last week or so to even bother thinking about what I'm going to wear the next day.  The result?  Lots of boring black pants and grey sweaters.  Or grey pants and black sweaters.  No pops of color.  Not even sticking with only picking out sweaters in the most flattering shapes.  Big and boxy and cozy and warm have been my only priorities.  And as such, I've looked a bit boring lately.  If anyone has seen me this week, I totally deserve the ridicule I regularly heap upon the other fashion failures I see on a daily basis.  

It seems I'm not the only one feeling in a slump lately.  This morning on Twitter, WashingTina made the following proclamation:  

Next week I'm vowing to come out from under my bulky jeans and sweaters and start dressing for work again, cold be damned. #isaythatnow

And the following brief conversation ensued:  

SassyMarmalade:  Seriously, it's like we're the same person. I said the same thing to The Dude this morning.

WashingTina:  I realized that I've been rotating through the same sweaters, cords, jeans for the past month. And it's FUGLY!

SassyMarmalade:  I'm totally in the midst of a winter slump! Did some online shopping last night tho. Reinforcements on the way.

WashingTina:  I went crazy @ Leesburg a few weeks ago & still all I wear is big black sweaters. I'm awesome. And chic. Don't forget chic.

So, we've taken the first step.  We've recognized that there is a problem.  We've even sought out some new clothing in hopes of solving the problem.  What else do we do at this point?  

I think this is a tough one.  When the winter blues - or blahs - set in, sometimes you just have to tough it out.  But I figure that making small goals might be the best way to fight through this one.  So I'm setting a couple of goals for myself.  

1.  Wear a different color each day next week.   (Like, green top one day, purple the next, blue another.  Gotta get myself out of this black-grey-white thing I've been rockin' struggling with.)

2.  Black pants only one day next week.  (Hey, I'm keeping it simple, ok?)

3.  Wear at least one winter dress next week.  (Dresses require more work, because they require tights.  This might be a little ambitious for my first week out of the blahs.)

4.  Wear a skirt at least one day next week.   (If #3 is ambitious, this might be impossible.  Skirts are so much more work than a one-piece-and-done dress.)

and

5.  In the face of failure with goals 1 through 4, at least wear different black sweaters and grey sweaters than last week.

Baby steps, right?  We'll see how this goes.  

Campfire in my Kitchen!

My Mom is the queen of finding fun, silly gadgets that actually turn out to be something I use and enjoy.  This Christmas was no different.  My Mom gave The Dude and I a Micro S'mores Maker!

I know.  At first, you're thinking, "Wha? Yeah, sure, sounds great."  But I was excited as soon as I opened it, because my Mom knows better than anyone that I love me some s'mores.  Yet still, I was dubious about whether this would really be a success.

We first tried it out while I was home, with hers.  Seriously, all you do is build the single smore (graham cracker, hunk o' chocolate, marshmallow, graham cracker) on the platform, place the lid over the top and pop it in the microwave for ten seconds.  TEN SECONDS!!! Out comes gooey, squishy marshmallow and perfectly melted chocolate.  It was delicious!

During my first trip to the grocery store after returning home, I bought all the necessary s'mores supplies and we made them at home, tout de suite.  It's tempting to go overboard though, because it's so easy!  With campfire s'mores, you are limited by the mess and time it takes to make them, but this ten seconds insanity can be dangerous. The gadget also comes with a little recipe book, suggesting different variations on the classic s'more.  We tried one with crumbled up peanut butter cups instead of a hunk of chocolate and it's my new favorite.

Verdict:  Super fun little gadget, especially for a romantic, stay-at-home, date night on the couch!  No firewood required.

Here's a pic or two to make you hungry - you're welcome!

The classic.

With peanut butter cups!

 

Ta-daaaaa!