whoopsies

Overwhelmed with the thrill of being able to get myself up on the monkey bars and hang upside down, even at the ripe age of 27, I forgot that I was wearing a demi bra. 

In a normal standing position, the shirt I was wearing was not at all immodest. Yet, when I started out the day, I had no idea I'd find myself on a playground, and for all intents and purposes, dared to get up on those monkey bars and show them who's boss. 

I am not young anymore- nor are my breasts.

                                    

avian flu

Today I received one of those subscription emails from a salon I used to frequent. I usually delete these without hesitation when I see them in my inbox, but something about the subject line caught my eye- "feather extensions."


"What are feather extensions?'" you ask, and I must admit did the same thing.


I had preconceived notion (envisioning voluminous hair extensions that feathered out, like the style made popular in the 1970s by Hollywood star Farrah Fawcett, may she RIP), but that was quickly proven to be wrong when I saw photos similar to these :

Sweet, right? I think so. I think I could easily rock this look, or something similar, even at the risk of looking like ke$ha, a currently trendy pop "singer."

Of course, like any good 20something who often doubts herself, I forwarded the email to a handful of friends/family members, asking them whether or not I could pull this look off.  The responses varied from "probably, but what about [your church] job?" to "hot! and dangerous!" Best of all, though, was my sister K's witty commentary, as seen below. Cleverness runs in the family.

Ew. Avian flu. Pruning. Other birds try to hump you. Suddenly bursting out in whistles that sound like common songbirds. I don't advise this. --KG, March 22, 2011

Whether or not I have changed my mind will remain to be seen, but K's response put an entirely different spin on the the "hottest new look in hairstyles." I prefer that a winged animal not attempt to copulate with or on me during my next walk outside. And, while the risk is very, very highly unlikely, I do not wish to die a premature death at the hands of a disease most commonly affecting poultry.

P.S.  Do me a favor again and click on an ad- any ad. Doing so helps to put food on my table and (expensive) gas in my car.

blemished

not the coat referenced, but a garment similar in style and color

It's no secret that I have an absurdly difficult time trying to maintain the cleanliness of white clothing. Somewhere in my innate being, there exists the inability to effectively repel any substance that can leave a mark (permanent or otherwise) on a textile. I have often stared in a combination of admiration, wonder and jealousy at women who are brave enough to go around sporting outerwear in a shade that is usually reserved for those months that lie between Memorial and Labor days. How perfect the lives of those women must be- I'll bet they also never smudge their nail polish before it is dry or unwittingly wear a distinctively-colored bra underneath a not-so-opaque shirt. Those women probably have boyfriends and husbands who have never seen them break a sweat or with their hair undone. I digress. I wished that I, too, could don a classically beautiful winter look. Alas, I have a hard enough time keeping a white t-shirt spotless... that I wear to bed.

How could I possibly be brazen enough to think that me, of all people, would succeed in wearing a jacket that I would be guaranteed to spill coffee on? No, 'twas not to be. My clumsiness is simply a way of life- an inevitable rhythm to my movements. For this reason, I have avoided purchasing a white coat to stave off the cold Minnesota winters for some time now. Until this year.

Armed with a coupon good for $70 off a purchase of $150 and a very decent tax return, I made my way to my most-visited ladies' apparel store, New York & Co. Always one to check the clearance racks before anything else, I happened upon a row of winter coats that were 70% off. Perhaps it was my begrudging acceptance that even in late February, Minnesota winters are far from over, or the snow that had started to fly that Sunday afternoon that caused me to look twice at this array of leftover winter gear. Whatever it was, I noticed that an ample amount of white coats remained. How could there be so many left? Nicely made coats at a very nice price. I wasted no time in whipping out my phone and opening the calculator app. At 70% off the sale price, the coat was priced at a very appealing $24. How could I pass by this opportunity?

I did it. I bought it. A white coat.

Over the next several days, I was very careful not to do anything that might soil this gem of a coat. I even contorted my body into some very strange positions in order to clean the snow off of my car so as not to brush up against it and pick up whatever the car wash had missed. I found myself hanging the coat up when I would enter a house rather than laying it on the arm of a chair or couch. At night, when I took it off at the end of the day, I would look it over for spots and dab them off with a wash cloth.

It's now been close to a month, and my relaxation in caring for the coat has caused a drastic downturn in appearance. There is a coffee (?) spot near the pocket on the right side- when did I spill that? There is black dirt on the back- where in heaven did that come from? Along seams, there are darkening spots where the fabric must rub on things.

What is a girl to do? My sacrificial white coat has been blemished. Just like no good deeds go unpunished, no white clothing (of mine) goes unstained.




Now, be a good friend and click on an ad anywhere in my blog. :)