H& M Brings Me One Step Closer to Perpetual Cat Ladyery (ladery?) and Puts a Few Things Into Stark Perspective

H&M opened this weekend at Fashion Place Mall (HURRAY!). Now, as a country bumpkin - I generally don't like large crowds; particularly if those large crowds consist of crazy eyed self-proclaimed fashionista's with huge strollers and nothing pressing them for time at 2:30 in the afternoon on a weekday. Stereotype so established. Thus, I wasn't planning on visiting my now very LOCAL H&M until several months after its "grand opening" to avoid such crowds (and reinforcing stereotypes ;)). In fact, I didn't even visit the Cheesecake Factory for easily a year AFTER it opened in SLC because the lines are atrocious and I couldn't understand "what the big deal was." Well, I'm so happy I found out because that place is freaking delicious! Lines? What LINES??? I will wait as long as it TAKES to pay $17 for the most delicious plate of garlic pasta I've ever EATEN!!!

Back on topic.

SO! I don't like large crowds particularly if its brimming with the a fore mentioned stereotypes, thus effectively putting my H&M Utah plans on hold until after the holiday season. BUT, I suddenly had an internal conflict with this plan this weekend as I am ALSO a very good daughter. Didn't you know? And my mom came to visit me for some mother/daughter shopping, eating, and ballyhoo time and of course, OF COURSE, we had to go Fashion Place Mall - it easily becoming the best mall in the state with such additions as the afore mentioned H&M, Crate and Barrel, Anne Taylor Loft, Apple Store, and the usual bought of awesomeness: JCrew, Banana Republic, and Nordstrom. I think I just salivated all over my keyboard. Shoppy shoppy nom nom! Spendy Spendy!

Yep, you guessed it. Being a good daughter won out and we went to H&M, opening weekend, as Christmas approaches. Madness! We had to stand in line for about 15 minutes to get in the store. Have you ever had to do this? You know I haven't because of my crowd aversion and general avoidance of "hype." It was pretty amazing how people eyed each other - making snap judgements about your worthiness to have a presence at such a grand opening. At least I'm spending my own money, Princess. Oh snap. Presence we were granted and upon entering the store - we were assailed with Club/Techno/Whippersnapper music BLASTING our senses and shaking the walls. Why do they have to do that? Why? I don't understand why the shopping experience must be assailed with BOMP! BOMP! BOMP! the entire time. UN-PLEASANT!

But what WAS pleasant was the 15 pairs of new socks (I only have work out socks... and they get eaten by Zooey periodically), scarf, and ridiculously "me" (dahling) dress and blazer I purchased amongst the madness.

OBSERVE!

You're asking yourself - what is that face you are making? It's a "did it take?" face. Phone cameras are sneaky little blighters!

Yes that's right. My dress is head to toe cats! And not just any head to toe cats - head to toe cats with BOW TIES! Cat-lady Andrea is well on her way!

Though I did purchase a few choice items and it was cool to go into the new store - it was also somewhat disheartening to see this middle and upper class American line to get into a moderately priced retail store; stomping and cutting (in line...not flesh... but I can see how it would've come to that eventually) and bumping and shoving and eying each other for a $20 blazer or $10 stripped socks. I had women edging me out of looking at a shirt or leggings simply because they must have thought I would take the last one... when it was clear we wouldn't have even worn CLOSE to the same size anyway. The passive aggressiveness rating scale was off the chart. And for what? Apparently one's true character shines through when sweater tights are on the line.

Now, don't get me wrong - I really like shopping. I like it a lot and if it's a good deal - I'm a sucker for it. But I couldn't help but have a small existential moment realizing that in America, where we stand in line for H&M's or the newest IPhones or midnight showings of Vampire Love movies; acting like children and  anxiously climbing over each other in angst - somewhere else in the world people are standing in line for their one meal a day, a crust of bread, or vaccines against diseases American children have enjoyed for decades. We reduce our character to shreds and curb our humanity for wool sweaters, or video games when fathers who have lost their jobs stand in unemployment lines and mothers go hungry again so their children will have enough to eat that night. And this doesn't happen in a country far far away - but in our own cities and neighborhoods.

To me, it's curious and even disappointing what we will stand in lines for sometimes. Is this really a good use of our time and resources? And for heavens sake, what happened to downright common decency? No, I don't think that standing in line for H&M makes someone a bad person. I don't think it's a bad thing to like to shop and enjoy some nice things if you can afford them. I just ask for a realistic amount of perspective and a polite "excuse me" now and again. I don't think waiting in line at an H&M provides justification for leaving your humanity at home so you can be the first one to use your stroller as a battering ram to the jeans section of a retail store. But maybe I don't get out enough.

Home is Where the Heart is... and where loads of carboard boxes are NOT!

I've lived a lot of places since I was 18. What's ironic, I spent the first 18 years of my life in the same town, living in the same house. Since then, I've probably moved oh... over 15 times over 3 locations: Ephraim (Snow College!), SLC, Provo, and back to SLC. It's the nature of the single person to migrate from apt to house to mansion to apt to Aunt's basement in Taylorsville over the course of their young, mid, and yes, even later 20's. We're a nomadic breed whose roots can only be convinced of sticking by such things as marriage, buying a house, and also... marriage. Otherwise, as single adults we move for school, we move for roommates, we move for money, we move for the hell of it, and we move again just for good measure.

However, such movings tends to wear on a person. Wear on them real good. You hit an certain age (27! 27!) where you are ready to just stay put for heavens sake! And I am most definitely at that age. Moving for me used to be another adventure - but recently (say in the last 3 years and 3 places I've lived) I've about HAD IT. True - my expert boxing (the cardboard kind) skills as well as my affinity for being a minimalist have all derived from my many many MANY moving experiences. And though I feel these skills are valuable, I'm ready to stay unboxed and acquire a knick-knack or two.

All that said, I move last month! HA HA! I moved from a single bedroom wee apartment in downtown SLC to a house... a LOVELY house... an adorable house in Sugarhouse. Well, it's bordering on "Sugarhood" if ya know what I mean; but never the less. I moved into a house. My friend and now roomie Alex bought a house (roots!) and I, being the single person who first, wants to save more money because living alone is hella expensive, and two, is sick of living in apartments, moved in with her to help with the mortgage. A genius notion if you ask me: buying a house then finding a couple of suckers to pay it off with you. I have hopes that will be me by the time I'm 31. Yes, turns out I've now pre-planned to move. Alas!

I'd like to show you the befores and afters of our house. It's taken us about a month to finally get most everything in place and unpacked. Observe:

Moving Day

I've mainly shown you the living room, sun room, and my room. You can imagine the rest of the house was just as disastrous and albeit overwhelming. Looking at all those boxes would even give the calmest person an eye twitch. It's a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house brimming with personality and quirks. That's just how I like my houses... and my men ;) Brimming with personality and quirks.

Now for the "afters." Prepare to be awed!

Moved IN!

And there you have it! A run through of the basic enjoyments of the new and lovely house... plus scooter. Doesn't Holly (that's the Scooter) look right at home? She sure does! All teal and cute with her little tire saucily tilted to the side. Aw. I hope you enjoyed the e-tour of the new house.

And there you have it. It's not the entire house, but it's a good majority of it. There will naturally be a house-warming party for to christen said abode and many parties after that. Alex and I are both HUGE fans of parties and even BIGGER fans of HALLOWEEN! The greatest holiday for the greatest parties ever thrown! And you best believe we'll be putting that Zombie door to use... shudder. 

I also vow here and NOW Internet, I shall NOT move again. No! I shall not! Unless one of the following things should happen:

1. I get married (snort.. ha! I'm solid for at LEAST 5 years)
2. Alex gets married (more likely... but not SUPER likely in the next year? Hopefully?)
3. I move away to get a PhD (Snort again! At LEAST 2 years)
4. I buy a house
5. The Zombies in the basement rise up and eat us...
6. The Zombies in the basement rise up TO eat us and in our epically violent struggle to free ourselves from their grasps, we burn the house down.

I'm going with #3 as the most likely scenario. Here's to ROOTS!

Of course the white dress wins..

Alright everyone. I agree, the white dress below IS gorgeous, perfect, beautiful.. and $200. $200!! I'll probably still go try it on and pine over how much I want to buy it while thinking about all the other sensible things I could use $200 for... like food, a car payment, and another 20 rounds of Boxing is for Girls.

It's a hard life.

In other news, I did buy THIS number from Banana Republic at 40% off. WIN!

Alright. Back to work all of you!

A Good Use of Time

Instead of paying attention in class - which is arguably POINTLESS at this point - I have decided to peruse beautiful Spring dresses online. Naturally, I will justify my purchasing such dresses for the following reasons:

1. I cannot very well wear Winter dresses in the Spring; what would people THINK?
2. I need a new dress for graduation. Plain and simple. Feeling the new expensive fabric under my graduation robes will give me an extra thrill when accepting that degree cover on May 6th.
3. I haven't been shopping for awhile and feel a compelling need to spend money on frivolous pursuits.

and finally...

4. I want to feel pretty... oh so pretty...

So here are some options. Enjoy! Vote! Comment! Induuuuulge.

Found Here.

I think a thick brown belt would really pull this little number together... and maybe these too

And this one... oh yes this one...

Naturally with a bright yellow cardy... which I just so happen to already own.

Well! Thanks for joining me on that good use of class time. I easily killed about 30 minutes... and now my weak laptop is telling me it's going to die soon; leaving me with an entire hour of torture left. Oh the humanity!

Greatest. Gift. Ever. Given. Period.

I feel I have a talent for giving fairly decent gifts. They're not necessarily (read: ever) expensive or particularly unique. What they are is this: perfectly picked. That's right. I feel I have a knack for picking out really excellent gifts to suit particular people(s). How does one cultivate such a talent? Well, you can start by trying to pick me out the perfect gift every month and I will give you feedback on a scale of 1-10 of how perfectly the gift fits me. Who's in??!??! Anyone?... ... ...

Okay, another tip for picking the perfect gift is to listen and observe. I guess that could be categorized into two separate advices... advice..i... but, nevermind that. You listen to what people say they want, and you observe what they may not HAVE but rightly SHOULD have (clearly for more advanced gifters). The latter advice is an art really, an art that one must painstakingly cultivate by constant observation - particularly around special personal days and Christmas. I increase me gift-dar scans immensely around such times. I also really really ENJOY the process of picking out an excellent gift for someone. Think about a time when someone pegged exactly what you wanted/needed and gave it to you for your Birthday/Christmas/Just Cause. Right? Usually the best gifts are things you've been wanting for awhile but haven't gotten yourself or from anyone else (cause they don't have the talent I... and now we... possess). Or their items you never knew you wanted but when someone gave it to you - you think "Wow! That's really perfect!" I love that look on the faces of friends and loved ones - particularly when it's cultivated by something I've given them. It's a veritable natural high. I proverbial pat on the back. And who doesn't need proverbial pats on the back? Uh huh.

Thus...

In contrast, nothing gives me MORE pains than having absolutely no idea what to give someone. You know the types of people I mean; the ones who are impossibly hard to shop for. Socks? Gloves? Shirt? Even such simple generic gift-fall-backs are difficult to pick out with confidence for certain people. It's likely these individuals have been gifted more gift receipts than gift cards (ba dum chi!). (Speaking of gift cards - an excellent gift in my mind - particularly to Nordstrom, Banana Republic, or Urban Outfitters (hinty hint hint hint... October 12th Birthday... hinty hint...)). My Grandpa Petty is one of these individuals. He's really hard to shop for - and furthermore - he's such a fantastic guy you really want to get him something special! It's offensive to think socks or a tasteful (and otherwise... cough) flannel button up will truly convey how great you think this man is! But phew... what do you get one of the greatest people you know who also happens to be incredibly impossible to shop for? ... ... .... exactly. You have that person in your mind too, right? Well fear not! I bring you a story of hope. Settle in.

A few weekends ago, I went home to Emery County for my grandparents 70th Birthday, Birthday Party. They both turn 70 within about a month of each other - so we thought a combo party in the happening town of Emery seemed just the ticket! And just the ticket it was. Of course, I can shop for my Grandma Jo. She has fabulous taste in clothes and naturally, I enjoy shopping for fabulous clothes/jewlery/any general shoppery myself, so entering Coldwater Creek and selecting some lovely earrings to fit her classy style was enjoyable and effortless. However, as previously mentioned, Grandpa P was a different story. I called my mom, my brothers, what were we going to give Grandpa? No one knew. Everyone guessed at those "generic" gifts (gift cards to Cabalas... Olive Garden... socks? Gloves? Cowboy paintings? IOU something better than what I got you? Alas!), and every suggestion was received with a "meh.. yeeeah... I guess." Nothing was hitting home - and as a very serious giver of gifts - this was a very difficult week in my first-world life. I appreciated the prayers. ;)

Well, as it was inevitably going to do, the day of the party arrives. Seth, his new wifey Emily, and I decide we are going to drag the dregs of Price (and if you want a town to drag dregs... Price is it) and find Grandpa something at least tolerable. We found ourselves at the "Farmer's Store" and shifted through leather wallets (has one), Cowboy paintings (meh...), and various zoo animal figurines (what the?). We had all but decided on getting him a painting, when we both stopped in front of what would become, the greatest gift of all time.

There was a pause....

An observation...

A squat...

A light touch on the box...

A an exchange made across sibling wave length... a confirmation... this was it. Thee gift.

Seth and I both had an excited glint in our eye as we realized... not only was this probably the most perfect gift we could've found, but it was likely to beat my Aunt Chris's gift hands down! HA! Now listen, Aunt Chris has also been given my talent for picking out gifts... particularly for Grandpa. She's on the wave length! She always gives something that brings that sparkle to his eye. SHORE she's his daughter but that point is moot! We wanted the sparkle in his eye THIS time and by heaven, this was the gift to produce it! The Sparkle! The excitement! We added a little ribbon and loaded it in Seth's truck. What glee! We were giddy school kids!

When we arrived in Emery, it's all Seth and I could do to refrain from giving out our perfect gift immediately upon arrival. The anticipation was suffocating! But wait we did... through pre-chit chat... Zumba demonstrations (thanks mom)... and dinner eating before it was finally time. The cake was ready! We were ready! The gifts were poised! And Seth raced to the truck on my urging to bring over our genius masterpiece as Grandma opened her earrings (loved them... ooooooof course) and read the combo-card (signed by all Cox children, Mom, and Snoopy the Beagle).

Finally! The moment had come! Oh... Grandpa's eye had begun to sparkle while Seth totted the box across the lawn. I could see it begin to glow as he set it down in front of him, "Happy Birthday! From all of us!"

I held my breath...

He looked it over...

Touched it's box...

Suppressed a gleeful grin...

He spoke...

"Well... isn't that just perfect."

Huzah! The rest was a whirlwind!

The pocket knife was out... grandpa was opening our gift immediately! He was a man on a mission. He wanted this amazing gift out and put together pronto. He wanted to caress the clay encasing... personally witness the horse and horse shoe engravings upon it's cylindrical face. He even seemed (did!) to forget that there were still a few more gifts to come from OTHER family members. The only gift in his eye that night was OUR excellent gift. (Okay fine... so Aunt Chris gave him a GPS  and lets face it... was pretty stinking clever too... a close second ;)). As he hungrily cut strings, tape, and begin piecing together the greatest gift ever given, it was all Seth and I could do to not grin ear to ear at our triumph... to beat our chests and yell "We are Spartans! Er... Geniuses!" to all who would listen!

 Later, while helping Grandma in the kitchen, she told me, "That was so perfect! We were looking at those just the other day and I really wanted one but we didn't get it!" I glowed with pride, "Yes well, we couldn't believe you didn't have one already!" Seth mentioned Grandpa had told him the same thing as he put it together. On! On to the victory!

I guess you want to know what this perfect gift was, right? Well, it was genius, I tell you, genius (did you get that? GENIUS!). Both Seth and I wondered aloud, while we totted it from the Farmer's Store, "Why do they not have one of these already? It's basically perfect!" And it WAS perfect my friends... truly... Alright, I'll stop the suspense.

BEHOLD!

The Greatest Gift Ever Given

(deafening applause ensues)

I put the blonde in Scooter...

School has started. Work has significantly picked up. And my church calling has turned out to be more arduous than I’d thought (hoped). These are the excuses I have to offer you as to my bloggy absence the past week… ish. Plus, I’ve not had anything particularly of note to inform you of… nothing worth reading at any rate (cause ya know, most of my stuff is SO worth reading), until now. Dun dun dun…

Story time!

So, to fill in the void that is single living (you know it’s true – there’s always a little void), I’ve done such things as travel, attended various little local activities and events, bought a Toshiba flat screen TV (mmm..), and shopped my little heart happy. At one point when I was living in Provo, I believed I was suffering from a mid-mid life crisis and entertained such desires as moving to Australia, getting a pet kitty, and buying a scooter as ways to “shake things up”. That round of feeling like I need to do something new and enjoyable, I got a cat – Lila – the white fuzz foot. Needless to say I don’t have Lila anymore because ALSO as a 20 something single, life tends to change as the wind changes. We’re a rather vagabond-esque breed, moving locations every year or several times a year, schooling and working and seeking and discovering. Many times, change isn’t entirely anticipated and what was once set in stone, become pie crust promises – easily made – easily broken (though not to get all down on Mary Poppins excellent analogy – pie crusts aren’t THAT easily made – am I right? Easily broken though… true that). We all start to feel a little restless at times, am I right? When you need something new and exciting – something that’s changing or progressing - I feel it’s a little bit of human nature to not only watch your world evolve – but evolve with it.

So void filling. Here’s what I’ve come up with.

Ta dah! Meet Holly.

I’ve been thinking about getting a scooter for some time. Done a little research and crunched some numbers – but all and all I wasn’t entirely committed until one fateful day last week when my good friend heidikins told me that a mutual friend was selling her Scooter – her lovely old school teal Scooter – for a steal of a deal. Internet, it was love at first sight… and first driving attempt, wobbling down the street with a look of excitement and anxiety all at the same time. How could I say no? Go ahead; look at it again… yep. Filled up my desire for excitement and change with a little teal Scoot Scoot affectionately named Holly. And why not? WHY NOT? I’m a downtown girl living the downtown life; my work is located a mile from my house – school maybe 3 miles from my house – essentially – my life is easily contained within a 5 block radius. You could say it’s almost a social injustice to not have a scooter with such downtown livin circumstances…. right up there with a crippled public education system and poverty. Well… maybe a few levels down the social injustice ladder. But still there!

Alright so all this aside – wanna hear a great story that involved the Scooter and a leather clad man called James? Okay… here goes…

So. I acquired Holly last Friday and naturally, drove her on down to the Farmer’s Market Saturday morning, parking her in Gateway summer parking. Now, I’m one of those people who double checks 5-6 times they have their keys in their pocket or they’ve turned off their headlights before leaving their vehicle. Nothing worse than doing something ridiculous that costs you time, annoyance, and money that could’ve been prevented if you weren’t such a brain-dead idiot (foreshadowed!). So I double check all these things – key in pocket, helmet locked in compartment, Off/Run switch off, etc. before I leave the Scoot to go buy me some local deliciousness.


Returning a few hours later, I hop on the Scoot to drive 'er on home and begin a day full of errands and homeworking and laundry and all those necessary Saturday tasks. Flip the switch to run… roll it off its kick stand (NOT an easy task for a wee person - I have calf bruises), and push the start button. Cricket chirp. Nothin. Er… flip the switch again, make sure the key is turned to ya know "On", and push the start button again. Tumble weed. Really? REALLY?!??! Flick the lights – functioning. Roll it around – shake it up – check the gas and battery gauge – flip the switch again – say a prayer - push start and…. Solitary wind carrying chirping crickets entangled in a tumble weed. Great.


Great… my battery must be dead. TRUE the lights work but it won’t even turn over so NOW what. Well, I call my friend Camille back who’d just left the Farmer’s Market and ask her if she has little jumper cables. This kinda freaks me out since the Scoot is so small and jumper cables seem so… electrifying… but what else can I do? Camille suggests I utilized her Ken Garff roadside family and friend’s maintenance deal and I readily accept. I trust anyone else sans myself with figuring out the mechanics of this that and the other on gas powered vehicles.We give them a call to see what they can do for Miss Holly. They promise us a 15 minute wait and we settle into discussing how annoying car issues are and how sad I am Holly may have a weak battery issue. She seemed so healthy. So robust.


1 hour later… yep… 1 hour later, hard-ass James rolls on his Warrior motorcycle (grug grug grug), leather vest and arm tats intact, with his little battery jumper box. James is cool. James is hard core. James checked my battery and says it’s fully charged. He hops on the Scooter (threatening us not to tell any of his friends that he’s sitting on a sissy scooter – and we promise we won’t mention it at the  Wild Hog Hard-ass Convention we’re speaking at next weekend), turns the key, pushes the start, and Broooooom! Starts right up! What? What??!?! Holly prefers two sizes too small jeans James to me? Is it the black leather boots? The oily VanHalen t-shirt? What?

“So… this Scooter is an automatic.” explains James.

I smile… “yeeeah… okay…” acting knowledgable... as if this has provided me with answer.

“So… you have to hold in the brake when you push start… or it won’t start. It’s like a safety switch…” he tries to convey matter-of-factly but I can see in his bushy browed eyes, goatee-chopped mouth, face he’s thinking “how do you function in life sweetheart?”

Blonde moment for me. Yep. Nice flat cement parking structure – why would I need to pull on the brake to start my Scoot? I mean, right? Makes no sense! Oh… maybe because I WANT it to start. Maybe THAT’s it. Thanks James. Tell T-bone and Death Fist hey if you see them before we do.

I laugh and sheepishly say, “Thank you” to James and offer him front row tickets to the Hard-ass Convention before holding in the brake on Holls and buzzing on home… perhaps with my head not as high as I’d arrived. Scooters must just bring out the blonde in me – which really doesn’t bode well does it? Indeed. But I sure make being a complete fool look good right? RIGHT??!? Look again...

Right.

Spring is in the air. I need a new dress.

Remember when you were a wee girl (unless you were a boy then you won't remember this) and every Easter/Spring you got a bran new springy spring dress for the upcoming season? It was really celebratory of a winter ended and Spring beginning - plus a very good excuse to go shopping for a new dress. And who am I to give up excuses to shop? I ask you! I recall one such dress of yester-year involving large purple and pink flowers, knee length, poofy skirt with poofy sleeves (thank you Anne), and a white lacy bib. Add some lace-rimmed turned down white socks, Mary Janes, and floofed bangs, and I was just as cute as an Easter bunnies tail. My brothers got new Easter (Sunday) garb as well... and I may or may not remember one of those terrible round brimmed 'boy' hats with a ribbon tied around its top and flowing out behind them. I distinctly remember little brother Seth (now 24) looking much like unto a little sissy-sailor one year, complete with afore mentioned hat and blue Easter basket. Poor sap! Pictures will be found... Mwahahahaha!

Well needless to say, whether it be the tradition ingrained in me (and you too, I know it!), or the need to completely rid myself of all things winter, this weekend whilst walking around the Gateway, I felt an over-powering urge to find a new dress for Spring. Naturally, this urge hit me most potently while perusing the beautiful clothing that is Anthropologie. Here's what I found (and subsequently tried on...):

Item 1

 (naturally not a church number without some sort of cream cardigan covering all that skin. Scandal!) Isn't it beautiful? It was beautiful on. And I didn't want to take it off... ever... until (as happens frequently in Anthro) I saw the price. Gulp. Uh... hmmm... no.

Item 2

Sassy, no? I questioned it when the sales-lady brought it in because 'it looks like you might like this.' And truth be told, Internet, I loved it. What I didn't love was the $298 price tage. W.T.F? Place on hanger... turn away... (I don't know why I think Anthro will be reasonable in any way... the delusion goes on)

Item 3

Now this dress is cool. I LOVED it on the hanger because of the trippy geometric layering in the skirt. Subsequently, I LOVED it on. I'm still thinking about this one, as it would take not one but two 'church' modifications (see: something under, something over) which does make me hesitate as I perfer modifications to be one OR the other (or none - which then makes it an auto-buy)... and I struggle with the idea of spending mucho moneys on something that requires such 'restructuring.' However, all that aside, this dress is awesome (but maybe not Springy? Eh?)!

Item 4

My absolute 100% favorite (see: no church modifications required = auto-buy) and Internet, I would've purchased this dress as my 2010 Spring Dress, except... it didn't fit. Like, at all. And not for reasons you'd think (like, they didn't have my size, etc). No. I got my usual size... then one lower...  and realized that when I couldn't get any lower, the issue wasn't the size, but rather, I was trying to fit a very 'regular' size dress on a 'short' body. Petite. I needed a petite. Alas. Of course I couldn't give up on it - and checked ye old Internet for petite possiblities. And.... internet fail.

No green dress for me. Life isn't fair for the vertically challanged sometimes (though I do take great pleasure in being able to wear 'short' dresses at 'regular' length when all my tallish friends are just screwed (sorry, heidikins))

Thus the search continues. But now I've got that Spring shopping bug, there's no stopping me until I find that perfect Spring dress! It's likely, since my office is after all, LOCATED at the GATEWAY, there will be a lunch Banana Republic run in the very near (see: 30 minutes) future.

Do you buy Spring dresses? Because you should. Guys? How many of you had those sailor hats? Cause I mock you! :)

I love Anna Sui. I do.

Begin loving her too, here