September 30, 2009
September 29, 2009
But sometimes it's an important question to ask yourself. If someone came up to you and said "the world will end in three minutes if you don't accurately describe your style" what would you reply. In my case the world would probably end. I have a really hard time with this question. Part of the problem is that I don't really dress the way I want to. Don't get me wrong I love alot of my clothes, but not all of them. Part of the problem is that I'm not where I want to be with my weight loss (note to weight loss: if you would like to come off quicker I give you full permission. thanks), and also the kind of clothes I like are either not easily available here or are highly impractical (I'm looking at you weather). The other problem is that I love alot of different styles. I mean I really do love alot. I love seeing those girls who are incredibly authentically 40's or 50's or 60's, or, modern flapper, or depression era glamour, or hippie/bohemian carefree, or feminine trendy, or just out there bonkers. I love it all. I want to wear it all. But that just looks like a jumbled mess. So I started going through pictures I've taken of myself and inspiration photos I've saved. I went through and found the links between them. What did they have in common? What was the best descriptive word for my favourite elements? So I went through found them all and suddenly I knew what MY style was. I knew why my closet looked like a jumble sometimes. I knew what things made me happy in an outfit. And thus this look was born:
Oh and don't ever google Irish school girl. You'll thank me.
September 28, 2009
I love the fan printed one on top, but really love the big on on the bottom. I've not seen a pattern like that before.
September 25, 2009
Polly Milton loves music, old things, pretty, but simple frocks, her wild brown curls, books, a good sled ride, peanuts, a being a little girl. All at age 14. Her Best friend Fanny is 16 and far more concerned with "men", and parties and Bronze Boots. So when Polly comes for a long visit to Posh Boston, her "countrified" ways are not looked well upon. Except for by Grandma, Fanny's grandmother, who takes a keen liking to Polly and her "old fashioned ways", and to some extent Tom, Fanny's "bear" of a brother. But even the huge and uncomfortable contrast in their lives does not dampen Polly's influence on the family, and she manages to bring some sunshine to a rather gloomy lot.
Well at least that's the beginning of the book.
September 22, 2009
Then I was looking through pictures on my computer and found this one and was thus inspired to use mismatched buttons on my lovely sweater.
So I clipped off the old ones and chose out buttons in corresponding sizes and sewed them back on. And this is the finished product! I quite love it! It was very simple and I did it while watching a movie (Harold and Maude which I had never seen and can now say that I absolutely LOVE!), plus it was a great way to spruce it up. Now if only it was cold enough that I could only wear the darn thing! Oh and sorry for the ruddy photos. I took them in my very poorly lit living room Tuesday night and haven't had a chance to re-take them.
Also Sarah of Oh Kirby! is having a Giveaway! She is giving away this charming little hat, and all you have to do is comment! Good Luck!
1/4 tsp salt
September 21, 2009
It is going to be 110 today!
I am boycotting California this week. I am ignoring the fact that Wednesday is supposed to be 112, and I am celebrating Fall. Welcome to Fall Week- like Shark Week, but without the blood.
This week I will be showcasing some of my favourite things about Fall, and why it kicks Summer's sweaty, tanned ass. Pardon my French. Recipes, Clothes, Movies, Books, and all things Fall, will be making an appearance. I'm tired of summer, and even if I have to put my A/C on super cold, I will be living like it is Fall. Take that California!
Also I big shout out to Hannah S. If you are reading this Hannah, Welcome to my Blog! I'm so glad you are joining me in my rebellion against the weather. I'm like the Luke Skywalker of Seasons.
I know I already posted a Monday Inspiration on Fall, so I thought that this week I will feature one of my favourite articles of fall clothing:
TIGHTS!!! I love tights! They come in colours, patterns, prints, and textures, protect our legs from being too chilled, and can make a boring outfit seem interesting. Whether you go with traditional black, or a wild print they always add a wonderful touch to any ensemble!
September 18, 2009
I haven't been sleeping the greatest lately. Not weird dream bad sleep, just general restlessness, and waking up more tired than when I went to bed. So last night When I was getting ready for bed I was thinking about something someone said about John Hughes when he died. This lady said that John Hughes films gave her hope as a teenager, because the weirdos always came out on top, the strange girl always got the guy, and the dork, always became cool- even if only in the eyes of the other dorks. I think this is also why I always loved his movies. Ferris Bueller's Day Off is My movie. It is just perfect. I was still thinking about this as I went to bed, and fell asleep, and then at 3.am I woke up flipped on the light and wrote the first half of a song about high school.
It's mostly brilliant. I kept reading over it thinking that there was no way I just wrote this, but I did. Some of the most brilliant rhyming I've ever done is in this song. It needs work, but it's really, really good right now. So I am excited and just a little annoyed with the fact that all of my best songs seem to be the ones that are written at 3am.
In other news I have a lot on my mind and it's all very confusing and annoying, So I am off to Disneyland to try and de-clutter my brain. Have a very lovely weekend!
September 16, 2009
And it really is as bad as that.
So Fraser joined 4H this year and had his dog show last Monday. The good news is he got second place in behaviour. The bad news is it was incredibly boring, dirty, smelly, and long. Who want to see dogs walk in a circle at eight am? Not me.
But there was a dead tractor, so Bri and I amused ourselves. I also took nearly 200 pictures.
8am, 9am, 10am, 11am
Fraser during his part of the show. He did a really good job.
Eric trying to look "sexy" on the tractor.
The best part of the day was while we were taking the pictures on the tractor. A redneck hill billy man drove by on a working tractor, turned to Bri and I and asked in his best redneck voice: "You wanna take a ride on a real tractor?"
I smiled and declined, Bri curled her lip in disgust.
We also saw the fatest pig I've ever seen in my life. This thing was huge.
And that was my adventure at the Norco Fair.
Remind me never to buy a tractor.
September 15, 2009
My dad left work early yesterday to go back to Oceanside to help my mom pack up stuff from the house that the wedding was at. Bri and Michael rented the house for the wedding and for the whole week for their honeymoon, but they spent their first night in a B&B in La Jolla so my mom could clean up everything. Well I didn't really want to spend more gas going there and back so i stayed behind. Not wanting to be a loser and stay home twiddling my thumbs I did something that is very strange for me: I went Swing Dancing. There is a coffee house here in town that offers free swing dance lessons on Monday nights. The lessons go from 7-8 and then from 8-11 the floor is open for anyone to dance. I've gone once or twice before and had fun, but the alarming amount of weirdos kept me from going back. Well last night I went and there were not as many weirdos as I remember and I actually had fun. Ask anyone who knows me and they will emphatically tell you how I don't dance. I don't dance. I'm horrible. I don't just have two left feet, I've got about four of them and they all are dyslexic. I'm not even kidding. I do not dance. But last night I danced. I got victimized by three different guys who were all very understanding of my horrible disability on the dance floor, all very nice, all found something to compliment to make me feel less self conscious about how many times I tripped over my own feet (not to self: do not wear pointy toed shoes next week). I bonded with a girl over shoes, Portland and Seattle, and music. I just had fun. I messed up and apologized, and felt stupid, and blushed, and did something I was terrified to do and ended up being incredibly happy I did so. I'm going to start going every Monday for two reasons. The first is that I figure it can't hurt to try to overcome my inability to dance, and the second is because my mom was freaked out that I was out until ten twenty because I have become such a homebody. We determined I am a reluctant homebody because I have no life. Awesome.
Enough of my yacking. Here's some pictures from the wedding. Sorry for the amount. I couldn't choose just a few!
September 14, 2009
No really I did. I missed you all so much. I missed writing, reading, commenting, picture saving, the whole blogging package, I missed it all. That's not to say that this week was not really wonderful (post vent that is) away from blogging. Also before I go any further let me say that I got my nails done and despite the fact that I have since lopped them down to the nub of my finger, I still can't do anything with them. Excuse any typos.
The wedding was absolutely phenomenal and I only lost it once during my speech (which was probably horrible, but I haven't seen the video yet), which was really very considerate of my emotions seeing as I had to sing twice yesterday and if i start to cry before I sing, then I can't sing because my throat, nose, and eye balls are very uncooperative. I did however get to tell embarrassing stories of Bri, which kinda made my day. But everything went smoothly and there were no hiccups, or fights, or even any impoliteness (I deserve to be sainted for how much I talked to certain family members whom I cannot stand). There was a minor annoyance of certain family members who no one can stand showing up the day before FOUR HOURS EARLY and proceeded to sit on their hind quarters and dole out advice on how everything should be done leading to the best quote from the weekend which came from my rather eloquent father: "I am not going to take advice from people who offer input while sitting on their asses."
Besides being just wonderful and beautiful, it was down right fun! We danced and sang and laughed at the anti AA meeting table (how one table can go through five bottles of champagne is beyond me. I managed two glasses.), we ate good food (cheesecake factory catered), had ridiculously decadent cupcakes, rootbeer (my family is obsessed with rootbeer) and lots and lots of laughs. Everyone looked beautiful, the weather was perfect, and we even got to throw Fraser in the ocean!
On a personal note I think I should probably be granted a medal of honor for how well behaved I was when certain people whom I cannot stand, made snide comments such as "Oh Ashley you did such a good job singing. Your voice has really matured lately", and I just smiled and thanked her when I really wanted to snap back and say "oh why thanks, yeah it's amazing the difference TRAINING your voice for ELEVEN YEARS makes, as opposed to two years of high school choir and being on the choir of a college you don't actually go to. Oh plus the fact that there is more talent in my nail clippings than in your whole body, but thanks anyways", or when certain person said "oh Ash it'll be you next who gets married, unless of course it's one of my daughters, who have "long term" (read shagging buddies) relationships, and who caught the bouquet! haha!" to which I just laughed and smiled when I really wanted to say "oh you mean the sluts you raised who are sluts and slutish, and not even that nice? You mean the ones that are "taking a break" from dating their bed partners? Yeah I'm sure it'll be one of them." Sometimes I'm amazed at how well behaved I can be. And sometimes I regret, just a little, not saying nasty things back. I can play the game very well, I just choose not to.
Some of my favourite moments included when Bri and my dad did the father-daughter dance. Bri was asking my dad if he wanted to do it a couple of days ago and during the discussion she inadvertently offended him, so to make up for it, she played To Sir With Love for their dance and surprised my dad, who I think almost cried. I also got to sing Bri and Michael's first dance which was to Moon River. Somehow I ended up being put in charge of DJing most of the reception, which was quite a artfully executed move on my part so as to avoid dancing, though Sarah and I did go up and do the six Swing Dance moved we know to Johnny B. Goode.
So all in all it was a really nice weekend, and everyone had a good time- including Michael and Bri (who at one point announced to everyone that they WERE eating at their own wedding no matter what). I'll post some of the (449) pictures I took yesterday, tomorrow. I also took about a jillion outfit shots this week so as to save my sanity from going completely down the drain. Oh plus I still have the Norco Fair to regale you all with! Two words to prepare you for it: Tractor Porn.
Oh god, my blog is going to get alot of hits from google searches this week for tractor porn.
September 10, 2009
September 7, 2009
This is my last post for the week. Family is coming into town all this week and my sister gets married on Sunday.
I shall see you all next Monday, have a lovely week!
September 6, 2009
September 4, 2009
September 3, 2009
This morning while driving to work I had on my classical station. This story has two parts, and since my sister thinks I tell really long stories that are often disjointed and confusing I shall separate this story.
Part One: Why I Listen To Classical Music While I Drive, or How Ashley Became A Nice Driver
I really love to drive. I like abandoned roads and winding streets. I like the trees creating shade and I like the wind blowing through my open window. I find driving relaxing. I do not like other people who drive. Thus I have some of the most horrible road rage known to any person. People who think I'm wonderfully sweet and kind would be shocked to hear me when I get on the freeway or on busy streets. Part of why I get road rage is because I happen to live in California where no one knows how to drive, and I was taught to drive by my father who learned to drive in Oregon where apparently everyone knows how to drive well, just not over the speed of 45MPH. I hate it when people don't use their turn signals, are obnoxious with their horns, or cut you off just to try and get ahead. While I do not curse (much), my driving vocabulary usually consists of the words Moron, Idiot, Jackass, Asshole, Loser, Poop face, Bimbo, Dumb ass, Freaking Jerk, Effing Retard (and yes I do actually say "effing"), and other really unattractive names. I hate this about myself. I would really like to be the calm, "oh dear you cut me off, well no harm no foul" kind of driver I should be. But actually I am a monster.
Jessica had to take a quiz for traffic school a couple of weeks ago which told you if you were an angry aggressive driver or not. I am. I had the worst score of anyone, because I was "enraged" by people who do not use turn signals and make unsafe lane changes. So instead of being angered by this I decided to change this fact. That night I was driving back from somewhere and accidentally hit on the classical radio station that is programmed into my stereo. I meant to hit the one next to it, the Classic Rock and Metal station. Well they were playing one of my very favourite pieces of music, so I listened. And I didn't scream at a single person who was a stupid driver. Long story short, I now only listen to classical music when I'm driving because not only do I not yell at anyone anymore I also drive slower (thus avoiding more speeding tickets). It's actually kind of funny, because when some one does do something to make me exceptionally mad I turn up the music and it all goes away. And that is the end of story one.
Part Two: The Gold and Silver Waltz, or Why The Crap Does No One Dance Anymore?
So while listening to my station this morning There came on a waltz. It was called the Gold and Silver Waltz. I did not get the name of the composer so if anyone knows I would be much obliged. Anyways. So there I was driving down Victoria avenue and I began to wonder why no one has dances anymore. The only dancing people can do anymore is the "bump and grind" or the "Faux Lesbo" at trashy clubs, or you can go join a social dance group which instantly labels you as a "dork." I know many a people who do the later, and while 90% of them are in fact dorks, some are not. So I would like if it would become cool to waltz and foxtrot. We should bring back community dances, which would also give me a reason to wear a ballgown for once in my life. And that is the end of this story.
I am sorry for a rather uninteresting blog as of late. My sister is getting married in 10 days and life is a little crazy right now. It may or may not be a little on the silent side here over the next week and a half. I still have to make my dress. I haven't even cut it out yet.