Does the air taste a little stale around here to you, too?

I think the theme for this year is just me wincing and ducking, asking if it’s over yet. Not the year, persay, but just whatever mound of shit is being flung my way at any point in time. Srsly guys it’s a been a rough one. I predicted that at the start, with the move. I thought that’d be it, though, and that in around March things would pick up. They didn’t. Instead the year seemed nose dive like a plane whose pilot decided to steer like a roller coaster. Fortunately, every nose dive has ended with a grand swooping upward full of answers and right choices, but sheesh.

It’s made blogging pretty nonexistent. This place was always somewhere I could vent and experiment, where I could write without worrying too much about what it was all supposed to lead to. That feels like too much freedom now, a little too unfocused. Even the name feels wrong. I admire people who could stay with one blog for forever but that’s not me, so I’m over at The Glittered Pterodactyl now. I’m excited about it, the way you get excited about a makeover that just feels all kinds of right. it’s about projects, and showing off progress as it happens and allowing all of my different hobbies to tie into longer, more complicated ideas. Hopefully see you over there?

What to Wear, brought to you by thrifting

full length skirt up

It’s not a sponsored post, it’s just the theme of Nicole’s What to Wear today. {lol, me do a sponsor post, as if} Although I didn’t manage 100% because I don’t thrift shoes or tights, and yet I have a bunch of thrifted skirts*. I have names for my clothes, do you have names for yours? I have my 90s HouseWife Dress, I have my Space Cadet Dress, I have my Taxi Cab Dress, my Where’s Waldo Dress. This skirt? It’s my Appropriated Mexican Culture Skirt. It was thrifted, which gives me a free pass on racism? It’s not racist? It’s an homage? I don’t know. I know my high school bestie could tell me, if I ever wore the skirt around her. I just like the print and try and roll with it, kay? Is that just the worst thing I’ve admitted on this blog? Probably. Also the next paragraph is just one big long rant about shitty dog owners who don’t leash their pets, so feel free to skip it. I was grumpy writing it and apparently I’m just going to post it as is. I have no disclaimer beyond that, really, except that it’s been a pretty shitty week dealing with shitty, irresponsible people who refuse to act like grown ups. It’s the kind of week where I feel like looking around and yelling “Oh come on, am I the only one trying here?” I can’t (and won’t) go into any of those details, so I stick to ranting about dog owners. It’s my thing.

grump face

It’s just that looking at these photos makes me just want to spend this whole post ranting about shitty dog owners. I hate them. I hate people with dogs**. So much unpicked-up poop and off leash dogs and bad doggie manners. We took these in our parking garage and this woman interrupted the photos (awkward!) when her tiny white curly haired dog went barking and running around the whole garage off leash. Because that’s totally not unsafe at allllll. Ugh. I know it can lose my friends, but man I take leashes seriously. I don’t care who you are or what your excuse is–if you have your dog off of a leash anywhere other than the middle of the forest or an off-leash dog park, I judge you. And yeah if it’s in the middle of the forest and I’m there and your dog runs up to me, I judge you. If it’s anywhere near a road, I will think you’re a fucking irresponsible jerk. If your dog runs around out of control while you frantically call for them, I will think you’re an irresponsible asshole jerk. My hard-lined dogmatic views are part of what makes me an asshole in real life, I’ll totally own up to it. Leash your dogs, because otherwise they’ll get hurt, killed, or hurt another dog, and when that happens, as sad as I feel for the dog, I just want to rub it in your face and remind you that it’s your fault, because you had fair warning. Says the girl who lost her dog (not Lyra, she’s fine)*** the one time that dog (not Lyra) was off leash in a quiet, residential neighborhood with no cars. Well, one car. It was a truck and a cat across the street and no one could have predicted that our low energy, sweet, super smart & well trained dog (not Lyra) would bolt to catch a cat. She never even chases cats. She was raised with cats and couldn’t care less. Which goes to show…. you can’t predict what your dog does. Nor can you predict traffic patterns. So don’t be an asshole and leash your dog. I promise–be responsible and train them properly, and they won’t resent you for it. Dogs don’t hold grudges and just like being outside, regardless of a leash.

Oh hey look more pictures of clothes!lookingdownkeffiyehhmmparkinggarage

 

*I didn’t shave my legs = tights a necessity

**dog owners /= dog people. Dog people I take on a case by case basis, but I like most of them.

*** not Lyra. It happened with the dog we had growing up, when I was in high school, and the whole thing was just nightmarish.

What to Wear for the Big Red Love Fest Day

what to wearVDay outfit

Okay so I’ll be honest, guys, I have no clue what I’m wearing for Valentine’s Day yet. Like, I don’t even know what we’re doing yet. There was talk of going out for dinner, but we’ll see. I kind of think we’ll just bake a cake* and call it good.

So I think I have a bit of an excuse when I say I’m not sure what I’m wearing, but I still put together a dreamy outfit for that fancy, out-in-the-big-city date I could imagine having. This year I kept two things in mind for the outfit. First, colors. I have a post next week about how David and I have official colors for our lives, but for now I’ll just say red, turquoise, seafoam green.

I opted for the flowy red dress for one primary reason, which is the second thing I have in mind for this outfit. Cleavage. Oh and for any and all those who feel uncomfortable listening to me talk about my boobs, this would be a good time to stop reading. ❤

Yeah so boobs–it’s kind of my goal this year to, if not show them off per say, stop ignoring them and hiding them away from the world. It’s come to my attention that I frequently… how shall I put this… forget that they’re there. Seriously, go back through my fashion posts and count the number of times I show a necklace, or something fitted that shows off their size. Any post where the shirt is tight fitting, there is no sweater, and I’m not wearing a scarf.** I mean, don’t because that’s kind of creepy, but if any of you do leave a comment letting me know, because I’m genuinely curious and also too lazy to go look myself. I’m assuming the answer is going to be less than four, though.

Every couple of months I remember their existence, though, an occasion usually marked by a redundant conversation with David.

“Do my boobs look bigger to you?”

“No, they just look big” this sentence is usually joined with a gratuitous grope

“Okay but seriously, I think they’ve grown”

He gets a little more serious, actually appraising their size

No babe, I think it’s just the shirt”

“Should I change?!”

“No!”

“… Okay but seriously, should I?”

“I mean, if it’ll make you more comfortable, but you really look fine. Great. You look great”

“… I’m adding a scarf”

It’s a vicious cycle. I forget I have boobs until one day I remember and am overwhelmed by their size. I have these really vivid memories of being like twelve with just the beginnings of a chest and making these futile comparisons to the grown women in the gym we used to go to. They all had such full, complete looking boobs in all their glorious shapes and sizes, and mine looked just so unfinished. And somehow my brain got stuck in that mentality–that they were unfinished, and thus not very big.

Time to update that mental image, eh? To be fair I actually looked through a bunch of my old photos and if I can tell correctly, I went through a noticeable (and final?!) growth spurt right before I met David. Which is why, even if I forget their size, he definitely doesn’t.

So, um, in conclusion, Valentine’s Day = more boobs. Man I am not looking forward to see the search engine phrases that’ll lead to this post… Oh also go check out Nicole’s post to see her slightly less boob-filled post (although she has a naked man torso on there, so it’s not quite as family friendly as you’d think) as well as all the other ladies participating.

*Context: we baked a cake on our first date, it was how he asked me out. Literally–“Hi it’s David, from the other night, so I was wondering if you wanted to bake that beet cake with me”. It’s our go-to whenever we’re not sure what to do, although I think the number of times we’ve actually baked a cake is maybe twice. Maybe.

*True story, I almost didn’t post this outfit because it felt a little too revealing

I can predict my future up to two years in advance. Kinda.

sharing a stroller

I’m the one on the left, in case it wasn’t just the most obvious

Being a little sister means lots of things, and those things range from a nearly endless supply of hand me downs all the way to feeling like you’re constantly falling behind in a race. It means that every time something confused me, or took me aback, or left me uncertain regarding what I should be doing, I could think back two years and remember what my sister went through and what she did. Sometimes it was more of a cautionary tale, but more often than not it was a good frame work.

I think it has a lot to do with how we were raised, but also the fact that we’re incredibly similar, but it’s like having a previously saved version of yourself out there in the universe, living a life that could have been yours if you had been born a few years earlier, and it’s the most reassuring feeling. I didn’t realize that’s how I’ve spent my life, comforted in the knowledge that there is another version of me, that I am another version of someone else, until my sister and I went out for a movie last night.

We were talking about our lives, about our problems and exciting things, and I mentioned a problem I was having. She nodded, listening to me, and started to agree when she suddenly stopped.

“I was about to sympathize and relate, but I just realized I have no idea what that would be like–I’ve never experienced anything like that at all”

It wasn’t the weirdest moment, and we moved past it in under two seconds, but somehow that sentence stuck with me.
We’ve spent a lot of our lives being mistaken for twins, being indistinguishable from each other on the phone, having identical laughs that synchronize when we’re together. She’s one of the two people I’ve spent my whole life knowing I can rely on for anything, no matter how much we might not be able to stand each other in the moment, and it’s just the most amazing thing in the world.

And the thing is, I didn’t even realize it. It never occurred to me that I just viewed the two of us as two versions of the same person until one conversation over mexican food when I realized we weren’t anymore. I look at my sister and I don’t see myself in two years–I just see another person, with different choices and different goals and a different life.

Honestly? It made me feel really lonely, which is probably just the silliest, since um I see her all the time and nothing has actually changed. Nothing changed at all, except a little perspective, I guess.

Leggings as pants, a cold sore, and a wrinkled shirt. What could possibly go wrong?

image

Cozy night in

 
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It’s cheating to admit I wore this out in public, but does it count that this is my ideal at home outfit? I really shouldn’t have been out in public so I think it counts. Because yeah so when I say I had a cold sore for this I mean it was the worst one in years. I had an allergic reaction to the meds I usually use and half

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But my face is freakishly asymmetrical and it creeps me out

SymMarci1-1

So like I mentioned in David’s symmetrical face post, this whole project started when I started noticing how very asymmetrical my ears were. I’ve always known I have a crooked smile, so it’s not a surprise that the rest of me doesn’t match up either. But um guys I had no idea that I had two entirely different faces. I have a theory that I was originally a pair of twins, but unlike that scifi version of one twin consuming the other twin, I think my twin versions each consumed half of the other, leaving two halves that joined together, so that I am literally two halves of two different people. It’s creepy, and once you see it it can’t be unseen. Also? That crooked mouth and lopsided ears? I checked. They’re the only two symmetrical parts of my face. Oh also also? These photos? Make me feel incredibly self conscious and very vulnerable, since I know they aren’t flattering. I’m posting anyways because I’m a badass. Just thought you should know.

SymMarci1-2 SymMarci1-3

David’s face is shockingly symmetrical, except for his mouth and beard

SymDavid1-1

 

This is a picture of David’s face, as is. We were having a discussion about symmetry, and we were having it while staring in our hallway mirror (maybe we’re super vain, I don’t know, but I feel like we have a lot of conversations while staring in mirrors. I can’t explain it). I noticed my ears seemed to be hitting different lengths, and the more I stared the more the left half of my face seemed to be longer than the right half. So we conducted an experiment, and I like David’s results a lot. So yeah, the above picture is a picture of David’s face, completed as is. Below are two versions of his face perfectly symmetrical, each using a different half. His eyes never change, which really creep me out, but his whole expression does. Which freaks me out even more. Also the right half of his face is chubbier. Although I think when it comes to facial symmetry as the most beautiful I think he is resoundingly  more handsome with his original, asymmetrical face. Thoughts?

SymDavid1-2

SymDavid1-3

Technically this isn’t a Halloween costume, but it could be

CMarci 102613 Horiz

My face when I try to get Lyra excited about life. She’s pretty mellow, so it takes a lot

So it feels awkward to admit, but this isn’t a Halloween costume. If it was, I’d be going as an obnoxious fucking hipster, but actually this is just what I wore to the dog park last weekend. This spot is my all-time favorite place to do outfit photos, but I get super self conscious. I’m pretty sure all the other dog park goers are laughing at me, but I try not to care. Too much. I’m still going to link up with Nicole’s What to Wear for Halloween.

CMarci 1026143 VertCollage

I have to gush about this sweater, because isn’t that what an outfit post is for? I found it at Value Village (Savers, for the east coast peeps) for $3. Its tag says it’s from the Gap and that it’s hand-knit, so I’m trying not to imagine a little Chinese orphan girl with only three fingers frantically trying to knit this pattern. Second hand makes it okay, right?

My other thrift find feels even more awkward, if possible, but I’m going to wear them both proudly. The scarf I’m wearing is definitely a thrifted keffiyeh, which was a very convenient find since I accidentally dumped coffee over my last one, but also strange because who donates their political statement? Like, it isn’t even a fake little UO keffiyeh-patterned scarf. Makes no sense,  but I’m grateful. It’s a little smaller than my white & black one, so it’s a little easier to just wear day to day.

Last outfit commentary, and I promise this one is less politically charged than my other two. My new job is one of those fancy dress-up-like-a-conservative-professional types that requires black or nude pantyhose/tights, so I went ahead and restocked my closet with black tights. I can’t believe I stopped always having black tights because OH MY GOD I LOVE THEM WITH EVERYTHING. They’re the bestest easiest color of tights to just pair with anything for a more streamlined, easy look.

Polka Dot Fancy Feet

Marci PolkaDot Socks 1

Today is a What to Wear Polka Dot edition, hosted by the good lady Nicole so you should be sure to check out every one else’s post. I tried to get a good photo of my polka dot sweater, but due to lighting issues, you get this instead. My socks. Lovely, right? They were a gift from my godparents and came three to a pack so you can mix and match to your heart’s content.

Marci PolkaDot Socks 2I’m somewhat fixated on how awesome they are–I mean, I know lots of people who mismatch socks. My bestie & occasional roommate Kim does it all the time. It impresses me to no end. I also find it completely baffling–how can you stand it? I mean, if the color palettes and general themes don’t work together, how can it possibly be healthy to put them on your feet? Euuck. So yeah I’m a loser who needs my mismatched socks prepackaged for me. What up, universe, this is who I am.

 

 

This is how I will write all of my blog posts from now on, until forever.

Hey guys!

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**Just wanted to let you know that while I ripped this text off directly from this website and wasn’t even close to compensated because why the heck should I have been, all thoughts and opinions are totally mine and I’d never share anything that didn’t have my full-hearted support **