Faux Pas

(from here)
For the uninitiated, uninterested or just plain out of practice, here's the 411: dating is awkward, like real awkward. In fact the only way to make it more awkward than it is naturally is to commit a fashion faux pas.

I know, I know, you're all shocked- "but you're usually so put together!" you cry.
True, like right now as I'm wearing harem pants with a toothpaste stain and an oversized t-..yeah, okay never mind, you didn't even pretend to believe that.

This latest fashion faux pas though happened while actually trying. You see, last night I went to a green light party and (gasp)wore green. Pause for those confused- a green light party is a morphed version of the college stop light party, where you pick the people you want to talk with (aka go home with/date) based on what color they're wearing. Green means single, Red taken, and yellow equals hanging out/seeing/whathaveyou with someone else but there to browse if something good comes along. Green light parties cut to the chase and only invite singles, letting them mingle while not being gawked at by those in red, excited to see singles in their natural habitat.

Anyway, I was told by a friend (who is actually a steller dresser, not a me steller dresser) to wear green since this is what you do. Only problem: NO ONE else got that memo...except for the two friends I was meeting. Meaning when we stood next to each other we formed the teal trio (okay so it wasn't actually green, but trust me: we were the only ones in the bar wearing anything remotely from the green family). Awkward turtle.

So what's a girl to do? In this case lie ("what? what party?? I'm just meeting a friend!" yep did that) and drink a beer or two until you get drunk on power (power people, not hops), then flirt with everything you meet. Course after walking away with a few numbers I then have to enter in the land of awkward texting. But that's another post for another day.

An Open Letter to Seattle

(from here)
Dear Seattle,

I think it’s time we had a little chat. You see, it’s summer and yet you remain stubbornly stuck in spring (or even fall; yeah that’s right I went there). And as much fun as it’s been to horrify/impress friends from home with facts like, this year there have only been 78 minutes of weather higher than 80 degrees, it’s getting old.

Yes, yes, I know: this weekend you pulled it together beautifully. Those were two magic days full of stunning blue skies and hot sweaty weather that made me only want to eat popsicles for the rest of my life. You gave me a sun warmed dock with incredible people, an excuse to float away on the relaxation station multiple times, and didn’t even burn any of my fair skin. Yes Seattle, you did good this weekend.

But then that brings us to today when I woke to thunderstorms with rain and a chill in the air. It was confusing, like really, really confusing (and not just because I’d spent the night before dreaming of the relaxation station). Suddenly I felt like I should be wearing boots and spending cold, gray evenings curled up in a coffee shop with a book. Not okay Seattle, not okay.

So I’m saying, give me summer. Give me days so hot I have to sleep in the basement because it’s the only place cool enough since nowhere in this city has air conditioning; give me a really good (bad) sunburn; give me days full of frozen fruit because it’s too dang hot to eat anything even if it’s at room temperature; give me hours of plotting how I will convince someone to lend me a boat so I can get some relief from the heat.

Do what you have to do Seattle, but give me summer.

xoxo

Sipping

(from here)
As of late I've been craving big glasses of white wine (yep, I said plural). I'm usually not a white fan so I suspect it's got a lot to do with the season. There's just something so summery about the uncorking pop of a bottle, the glug as it fills up a big glass (and it's got to be big, none of this polite, shallow bowl stuff) and the way the liquid automatically chills your glass as it hits it.
I've been dying to sit outside in the fading heat and light of the day, sipping wine while I stare at my painted toes and think or talk about nothing at all. Anyone interested in joining? I'll (alright am) doing it alone, but I thought I'd be polite and ask.

Of course maybe it's also because I've lately been watching way too much drunk kitchen. She just makes the possibility of burning your kitchen down look so much fun!

Babies yo

(this was found here)


Is there anything cuter than fat baby legs sticking out of salmon shorts or a little boy in a dinosaur sleeper shirt talking to himself in a three year old lisp as he carefully spells out his name on a piece of purple construction paper? Is there anything more annoying than a group of ten year olds banging on a window like monkeys or fighting over who gets to shoot the gun in the computer game their playing?

Sometimes my biological clock starts to tick and then the future of my future baby brings it to a screeching halt. Makes a girl confused, but at the same time so happy to be single.