This and that.

I about died laughing at this post and the hashtags. You should check it out. 

Girls Wine Weekend in Dallas was a raging success. Pictures to follow - promise.

Also: I had Blue Fish (sushi joint) in Dallas for the first time. The rolls were UH-MAZE-ING. Seriously. The Sunday and Miami Vice were particularly delish. 

BUT, the Ahi Tower (something I was somewhat skeptical of based on the description) was so flipping good, holy cow, I want one now, all the noms. Whoa. 

This is what it looks like when they start (or something very similar)...

After they smoosh it together (smoosh is a very technical term). 

I wasn't sure it would be very good based on the second picture and the mediocre description. Wrong. Never been more wrong in my life, ever. It was so damn tasty. I want one right now. #getatmesushi

You'll thank me later.

It's beautiful, isn't it? You're welcome.

I don't even care that it's April. That is brilliant. I love the interwebs.

damn nature you scary

Since most of you are not from Oklahoma, I can understand why you aren't so sure about this whole weather thing here. I mean, it can't be that bad, right? 

Well, unlike hurricanes where you have a week or longer worth of notice, you might have 5 minutes of warning with tornados. I mean, it's probably a sign that there are some crazy weather happenings in the area when the NATIONAL WEATHER CENTER has their government agency located in Norman, the number one meteorology program in the country is at the University of Oklahoma, and you have to have government clearance to take the classes and be in the building permanently... You know, no big deal. 

So, when I woke up to the loudest thunderstorm with hail on Easter morning at 3:30, I was also listening for the tornado sirens. It's not quite tornado season just yet, but hail is an indicator, and there was plenty of wind and hail happening. 

I didn't take this photo, I stole it from one of the news stations. 

Luckily, I didn't hear the sirens going off and my trusty iphone confirmed that there was no active tornado watches or warnings. That said, here is a picture of my friend, Alex, and me in the back room shoe storage area at Dillard's during an active tornado warning during the spring of 2010.

We were having fun, but the people stuck with us were slightly freaked out. We got yelled at by some lady because we had some tunes working. We also were shopping around in the store room area until some guy from Dillard's cut that short. Lame.

productivity

I'm being uber productive right now. Not.

We're watching a film in class, and I'm writing this post. I don't typically do this...at least not in this master's program. I enjoy my classes. Massively. I think I'm lucky in that respect. I find them relevant, engaging, important. They mean a lot to me. What I am learning means a lot to me. The students I want to work with mean a lot to me.

I'm trying to figure out where I am headed in the long run and even still, a year from now. I have an extreme dislike for ambiguity and the unknown. I like having a plan and sticking to the plan. I don't always have to stay with the plan if something else comes up, but I am a fan of a good list, setting goals, making a plan and using it.

I can be a bit of a control freak. 

I know, shocking. I'm working on it.

As a back up to changing my entire personality, I'm working on a plan. Where am I applying for jobs? I graduate in May of next year. I want to work at OU so badly. I also recognize that I am coming from a really cool program where a big chunk of the people in the program would also like to work here full time. Reason stands that it's just not a possibility for all of the recent grads from OU to work at OU. So, I need to look beyond the beauty of Norman and my beloved Crimson and Cream. Dang thinking like a grown up. 

I also need to figure out if I am going to pursue a PhD at some point. I've already taken the GRE. Twice. I scored pretty well both times (better the second). Those scores "last" for 5 years. I took it fall of 2011, so I have until fall of 2016 to use those scores without needing to retake it. I have no desire to retake that test. It's gross. This is keeping in mind that I don't finish this program until May of 2014. I plan to work for a year or two before doing the application process over again. Otherwise my dad may disown me, or at least threaten to. 

So, I've got a bit of a time line to when I apply if I decide that's what I want. In that, I also need to figure out what I want to research (because that's what you do in a PhD) and what program I want to apply to. Maybe I apply to multiple programs at different schools in different areas. Do I pursue a doctorate in higher education and student affairs like I'm currently studying and love? Do I look into trying for a PhD in counseling psychology? Do I dare try again for the clinical psychology PhD? I mean, I've only already applied twice to those programs with no success. I don't know. I don't have an answer. 

But, that's the problem with my desire to have it all planned out, isn't it? Yes, it probably is. 

a not so small life problem

Ever have one of those days where the things that happen are clearly hilarious as long as it's not happening to you? Yeah, me too. 

So, I have, um, a rather large chest. I've been busty since I was 15 or so. They magically appeared. This was something of a surprise to me. My mom is not chesty in the slightest. Far from it. She's actually very petite on her upper body in general. She is your classic pear shape. I understand that your chest size is supposedly tied to your dad's mom's chest. I have not stared down either of my grandmothers' chests and have no intention of changing that any time soon. I just know that I have more than enough love to go around in that department. 

Considering that I'm still significantly over weight, this isn't a surprising fact. I look pretty proportionate in regular clothes. If I wear anything remotely low cut, I look RIDICULOUS. I'm talking boobs for days, people. I wore square necked shirt on my 24th birthday to go out with friends to celebrate. My mom told me I looked that a tramp right before I left the house in front of a few of my friends. It was encouraging, as I'm sure you can imagine. It's also the first time my parents have ever referred to me as anything remotely like that considering I dress pretty modestly in general. This is also funny because my mom was a total sorostitute and my dad a fratdaddy. My sister isn't overly modest, and they certainly have NO issues with that. I just don't often show them off. It can be a lot. 

I have to be careful when taking pictures because otherwise all you see is my massive chest. 

These are two examples of what I'm talking about...

This has been part of my life for ten years, so it's nothing new or surprising. Things hit an all-time level of WTF in the past few weeks though while performing a certain activity - you guessed it, running. Now, good bras are an absolute where I am concerned. There is no avoiding the necessity and sports bras are no exception. I'm ok with that. I also anticipate some movement when working out. Unless I'm holding on to them, I can't help it.   I have consistently had no issues on the elliptical with these sports bras. So, I wasn't concerned when I bumped up to running on the treadmill. Epic Fail.

Apparently, my older sports bras were just worn out because I came ALL THE WAY out of the top of a couple of them. As in, out of the neckline of my sports bra, moving up and down with a higher vertical jump than I have in real life, almost hit me on the chin while I was running at the gym, all the way out of my sports bra. This has happened three times with three different bras of varying ages. 

You may be wondering how it's humanly possible not to notice your boobs coming out the top of your bra... I didn't feel the bra sliding down or anything. I don't know why, but I just didn't.  I did, however, noticed more movement that norman and looked down. That's when I almost was hit in the face. I realized what happened at that point, but I was mid run, so I didn't think I could do anything about it without slowing to a walk. I tucked my arms against my chest, finished out my last 30 seconds, slowed to my walk and then tried to inconspicuously pull my bra back in place (the gym was packed and I felt sooooo awkward). 

I then texted my mom and sister, laughed at myself and my awkward boobs, and then finished my workout with at least one arm trying to keep them somewhat still. Hah. What can I say, such is life. I suppose that I should just keep a smile on my face and be excited about the brand new sports bras I got to go buy :). 

Can anyone else relate? Anyone else have an equally awkward moment? 

the pen thief

I'm the type of girl that feels very self-sconscious about somewhat strange things. I have all the normal insecurities, too. Don't doubt that (haha), but I always worry when someone wants to look through my iTunes folder, the music on my phone, or my pandora playlists. I have always felt that you can tell A LOT about a person based on the music they listen to. I've always had a fear that people will judge me for not listening to the "right" music.

I was involved with a group on campus my junior year of college that brought a bunch of campus leaders together once a month. We did retreats and other fun stuff, as well as support each others' events. One of the things we did was a mixed CD exchange. We had a month's notice to bring this mix CD. I literally spent an entire month coming up with the playlist of 18 songs. I listened to them in order over and over to make sure they flowed, that the mix was fun, that it wouldn't be something someone could judge me negatively over. I also put a ton of music I LOVED on there. It wasn't just a party mix. It was a little piece of me in that plastic case. I wanted the person who got it to like it, to think it was a fun mix, to be excited about the surprise of it all. I was thrilled to get the mix I got. It was awesome and full of music I didn't have before the exchange. It was legit. I made a point of communicating that to the person who's CD I got.

The night of the CD exchange I was so nervous. The one person in the entire group I hoped would not get my mix ended up with it. She was actually a sorority sister of mine. At the time of all of this, she lived three doors down from my bedroom in the house. I knew from the minute she introduced herself to me during my freshman year by yelling at a new member (me - I'd pledged to join the house all of three days prior to this incident) for ten minutes about something I had no way of knowing about, she wasn't a person I wanted to be close to. For non-greek people, you shouldn't yell at new members, or anyone really, but especially the new girls... It's a good way to make them not want to join. It's also something we are taught from the very first moment after you are initiated. Treat the new members like angels because we love them, want them, and want to show them how much they have to look forward to. Epic face plant fail on her part with that move. She then continued to prove that she was not a very nice person. She had plenty of friends, so I'm sure she is perfectly nice to them otherwise they wouldn't be keen on friendship with her, but it just happens that the nice side of her personality was not what she chose to show me on the regular.

Her loss. 

Oh, where was I? Yes, the strange self-conscious things. So, I worry about how people will judge me based on my handwriting. I am always impressed with people's scrawls. I have handwriting envy. This is true of me since I was a kid. I have found there is a particular point width of pen that I like my handwriting in, so I got a lot of them. I use them more than any other pens I have because of this. Well, not really like the way I write, but with these I am less likely to think that my writing is gross and shame worthy. Hence, the pen importance. 

Then they started diappearing. I could not find them. They were mainly missing from my office. Clearly, someone stole them. Clearly. I had the one I kept in my backpack of this style and the one in my purse. The other five should be in my desk drawer. Dang pen knapper. 

Until I decided to clean out the "pen compartment" of my backpack, that is. I found all of the missing pens. So, I admit it. I stole the pens from my own desk at work and took them with me. I confess. I am grateful that I didn't voice my pen thief theory to anyone but my inner self. That would be embarrassing. I will also say I didn't realize I was stealing my own pens. I think that much is clear from this post, but it is no excuse. 

Except maybe an excuse to buy more school supplies. I love school supplies... they make me so happy. Just ask my mom or sister. You only think I'm kidding about that.

So, what should my self-imposed punishment be, oh wise internet and blog followers totaling two awesome and lovely people? 

Goodness

Today, my very dear friend, Kaitlyn from Put A Bow On It, tweeted me about a post she may or may not write for tomorrow. It's about something that happened to her in middle school. I'm not going to write about it until she posts first, so I can link her story to it when I talk about it, but I will say that she handled the situation with grace and poise no seventh grader really possesses in real life.

I suppose I should say that she doesn't know that I've been blogging for a whole, what...13 days. I started this blog after she tweeted about her blog publicly to all her twitter followers. I'm already a pretty avid blog follower, so adding her's to the mix was pretty natural. Seeing what she committed to putting out into cyber space was extremely encouraging. Then again, Kaitlyn is extremely encouraging in real life. It made me want to try my hand at blogging again. I've decided I will tell her that I'm back on the blog wagon after I can say I've been actively posting 3 times a week or dang close to that for at least a month (unless she magically finds me, in which case that would be totally welcome and pretty flipping neat considering how many blogs are out there). I want to build some permanency with myself, so I'm cementing blogging into part of my routine before telling the people I know "in real life". 

So, by the time she finds this post it will be old and dusty, but no less true. 

Kaitlyn is actually my oldest friend that I wasn't born into being friends with. My family moved from Oklahoma City to Houston when I was two and a half and Michael (my brother) was three months old. My mom was painting, or house hunting, or something (shockingly, I don't really remember this being two and a half and all...) so my parents' closest friends from college who also happened to be close friends with Kaitlyn's family brought me to Kaitlyn's house for a pool party so my mom could have a break from a toddler and an infant. We met in the plastic baby pool and have been friends ever since. Considering that there are few things I've done for 23 years straight, the fact that we're still friends continues to impress me. 

Kaitlyn is a ball of sunshine, glitter, grace, and joy. You should be so lucky to count her as a friend, and if nothing else, you should for sure follow her blog. She is the type of friend you wish all friends were, most sincerely. She has always had a ready smile, a certain humbleness that is genuine and refreshing, an excellent competitive spirit that never bordered on obnoxious (which is impressive considering our schools play each other in football occasionally and we're both desperately passionate about our teams that meet on the gridiron), and a way of laughing at herself that never made me feel inferior to someone like her with as much star power as she truly possesses. Now, I'm about 105% sure she wouldn't believe these things to be as utterly true as I believe them to be, but I would like to direct you back to the part about being humble as evidence to support my case. 

Anyhow, Kaitlyn was the most beautiful bride I've ever seen. I have a funny perspective on lace wedding dresses. I think you have to possess a certain something to pull off the timelessness, the elegance, the sincerity that lace embodies to me. I don't think I could pull off lace. Actually, I'm almost certain I couldn't wear a lace dress based on my thing about them. My mom and I talked about how stunning she was in her lace dress, and it occurred to me that it was a combination of things. The first thing; she radiated joy on that day. It was show stopping. The second, and more true of my friend, was her goodness. 

I googled goodness looking for just the right definition to explain exactly why she was perfect in her lace dress. I found it. Dictionary.com says that goodness is, "the best part of anything; essence; strength". This could not be more fitting of Kaitlyn or made it more appropriate for her to wear lace on her wedding day. 

Kaitlyn and Andre at the wedding  ::  Kaitlyn and me age 6 at a dance recital  ::  Mrs. Stowe, Kaitlyn and me            

So, I'm a lucky friend. I will always wish that time and distance didn't do what time and distance like to do to friends, but I am beyond blessed to call her someone I know, much less a close friend even if we haven't gotten to be so very close these last few years. She is one of those people that I realize I have missed quite dearly when I come across something that reminds me of her. Reading her blog has that effect with every new post. 

So, check out Put A Bow On It and love on Kaitlyn bunches. You won't regret it. 

Pinup Girls

I adore pinup girls. I always have. I once had a weekly planner with pinup girls on it. I wish I'd looked at the manufacturer info before I got rid of it. I loved it that much. Because it's the day before Valentine's Day, I decided to post something fun and sexy that always puts a smile on my face.

I know a lot of people aren't fans of pinups because the objectify women. I can't fight against that argument. I can see what they mean. But, I love the sass. I think the women look strong, powerful, in control. I'd love to see a man do what a woman does in heels with the poise and grace we do it with. That's what the pinups represent to me.

This is my favorite brunette Gil Evergreen pinup painting. I love the look of surprise and something about her body language. 

Again, I love the body positioning. Something about the tilt of her shoulders. It reads as confident to me. 

This is far and away my favorite pinup picture of all time, without question. The wink, the grin, the hand in the hair...yes. I love the bold blue background with the white dress and red belt. I love everything about it. 

Even looking at the pictures now as I've just written about them, they make me smile. They always make me feel happy. I identify with these women in the pinups that I think know the power they have, how sexy, but confident they look. As someone who does not always feel sexy or confident in my own skin, I look at those pictures and think, "Yeah, maybe. That's not me today, but one day." And that's exciting.