I'm joining the Red Hat Society. At 24.

I had a breakfast meeting this morning. My office is business casual on its best day, so I was excited to wear the J. Crew chambray dress I'd picked up (for a song) this weekend at the outlets. I excitedly debuted it to B, since he loves when I wear dresses, and his response was, "Is there a belt?" Well, no. Does it need one? I asked him if it made me look fat since it was straight up and down and he said he felt like it would look better with a belt since it would show some curves. I didn't have time to put one on, so I threw a belt in my bag and headed out the door.

I liked the outfit. I like when things are a little shorter but loose, so I don't feel like I'm showing too much. But because I often exhibit little to no confidence of self, I then fretted all morning about whether I should belt it or not. I belted it and asked my coworkers. The two of them agreed that they liked it with the belt. I had one of them take a picture.



Hello, linebacker shoulders.



And it turns out, I hated it with the belt. I don't like the shape the dress takes on, I don't like the emphasis it puts on my shoulders, and I don't like feeling like I'm wearing something short and tight. So even though three people have told me to belt it, I'm not going to do so. Because really, it's about how I feel in the clothes, not how others perceive me. At least, this is what I tell myself. And I'm going to try and use this as a lesson in being confident in my own outfit choices. If I feel good in it and it's occasion appropriate, I'm going to wear it.

Wanna see something else I wore?

Mickey Mouse earrings! What what!

Also I got a sweet purple band-aid at work. Since my shoes are red, I feel like one of those Red Hat Society ladies. You know, "When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple With a red hat that doesn't go and doesn't suit me."

And you know what? That sentiment kind of fits perfectly with my outfit dilemma today. Maybe others don't think my dress suits me the way I want to wear it. But I like it, and I don't care. Why wait until we're old to wear red with purple or things that don't "suit"? Who gets to decide what suits us anyway?

In the poem from which the Red Hat Society derives its mission statement, Warning by Jenny Joseph, the author declares that in her old age she will wear what she wants and act silly in order to "make up for the sobriety of my youth." But you know what? I don't want to have anything to make up for when I'm old. I'd like to have a little more fun and a little less (figurative) sobriety now.

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Grati-Tuesday and style in three words.

First things first. This week I am thankful for:

1. B's new job! That's right, he's moving up in the world, and I couldn't be more proud of and excited for him.

2. Books on tape. Or cd, rather. I checked out A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson for our little jaunt to the ocean, and it was fantastic. Highly recommend!

Check it out.

3. My kittens. I had to say it. They are so much fun, and I love how they bring out this caring, playful side in B. He'll hate me for saying it, but he makes a good kitten dad, which eventually I'm sure will translate into being a good human baby dad.

4. Having something to look forward to on the weekend. Weather permitting B and I are meeting my parents at their campsite in Harper's Ferry and doing some hiking and s'mores making. Thinking about relaxing by a campfire is helping me get through each workday.

5. Magazines. I love flipping through magazines. I subscribe to 5 (Glamour, Cosmo, Marie Claire, Smithsonian and Archaeology). This month Glamour challenged its editors to sum up their style in three words, which I thought was an interesting exercise and possibly would help me in my quest to purge my closet of clothes that aren't "me". I pondered and came up with: Navy. Stripes. Lipstick. Even though I'm wearing none of the aforementioned today.

What are your three words? I'd love to hear what you come up with!

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My uncle, who lives in India.

We all have leaves in our family tree who seem to blow off in different directions than the rest. In mine, that leaf is my father's brother, K. In his early twenties, he quit college and joined the transcendental meditation movement (TM). He is now in his fifties and living in an ashram. In the Himalayan mountains. In India. Now, I'm not one to judge others' paths in life, I'm just saying I wouldn't take this particular path. In any case, every few years he'll come home for a few months, bearing lots of little trinkets to give away and stories to tell. This weekend my father, brother and I went to visit K and my grandmother, with whom he is staying, on the Eastern Shore, about 2.5 hours from our home.



My dad playing with the kitties before we left. He's allergic, but even he can't resist their cuteness.

 

View from my grandmother's deck. Very hazy. It was about 100 degrees, 95 percent humidity. Or something close to that.

I spent Saturday shopping at the outlets with my grandmother (and picked up an awesome denim J. Crew dress for cheap that I can't wait to wear later this week), hanging out and watching the Olympics with the fam. My uncle, who explained to us that his day at the ashram includes about 2 hours of Hatha yoga and 8 or more hours of meditation (clearly he has a lot of patience. I could never sit still for that long), led us in a quick yoga practice.



My brother, B, and Uncle K in the makeshift yoga studio.

We only stayed for one night, and on the long drive back my dad poked me and gestured behind him. I turned around to find this:

His head was flopping around like a rag doll.

Riding off into the sunset.



Sunday after church I was finally able to get in some quality time with B and the kitties. It feels like every weekend has been full of activity lately with almost no time to just be and soak up life. This coming weekend I'm hoping to be able to go camping with my parents and escape from the hectic pace I feel like I've been following lately.

Everybody napping.

We rounded out the afternoon watching the Olympics, which thankfully inspired some willpower in me to resist eating the candy I had placed in front of me. And has me chomping at the bit to hit the gym this afternoon. Hope that feeling lasts through my workday!

  I linked up! Visit five30three, Sami's Shenanigans or Join the Gossip to join or read other bloggers' weekend updates.

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It's Friday, I'm...DIY bowling.

Today was my co-worker's 25th birthday, and we partied it up museum style!

That's right. We ordered pizza and went bowling. But of course, we didn't have time to leave at lunch and go to a bowling alley, so instead we improvised with paper towel rolls, painter's tape, and reproduction cannon balls. Also there was no beer, which I would generally associate with this type of activity, but for a work lunch, it was pretty good. And I think the birthday boy enjoyed it.

Birthday boy!

In other news, B and I officially named our new kittens Truman and Tesla. They are still adorable and I miss them now that I'm at work. And I will be away until tomorrow night! I need me some kitten cuddles. The kittens will be bonding with B and I fully anticipate that he will spend the majority of the next 24 hours on the living room rug playing with the kittens and a black shoe string (their toys currently consist of shoe strings and toilet paper tubes).

I got this super fun infinity scarf from Aeropostale the other day, and I don't usually shop there so I'm very excited by my find:

 

Hope you guys have a fun weekend planned,

B.

 

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The water is tepid.

So we got the kittens home last night and B and I felt much the way I suspect new parents of human babies feel, except we were looking at less expense, more fur, and we still get to sleep. What I mean is, we let the kittens out of their carriers, then stared at them and asked each other "Now what do we do with them?" and "What in good gracious have we gotten ourselves into?"

It's going to take a little getting used to.

But without further ado, here they are:

The gray one is a boy and the black-ish one is a girl. Thank the good Lord they have been using the litter box with no problem. I stayed home from work today to help them adjust and they could give a crap. They're all "that's nice, I'm just going to nap and ignore you, thanks". Which is another way in which I feel this is similar to bringing home a child.

Neither one has a name yet. I generally name my pets after Disney characters; B says unequivocally no to that one. Then I thought of Nimitz and Sigsbee after the Admirals who signed the Japanese surrender in WWII and captained the Maine, respectively, but B keeps pronouncing Nimitz "Nidbits" and I don't know if I can do that to a cat. So that's on hold and for now they're "baby girl" and "baby boy". 

Also, stripes!

*Disclaimer for people with children-I've been a nanny and I am not in any way actually of the mindset that owning kittens = having a child. So don't hate.

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An "empire" no more.

This makes me laugh.

Via



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We jumped.

B and I have been talking about getting a cat for a while now. He grew up with them, and I love them but never had one since my dad is allergic. We would get really close to going to the shelter and getting one and then pull back, not sure if we were ready. It felt like standing at the edge of the pool, staring at the water and thinking, I made it this far, I put on the suit, I lotion-ed up, am I going to do it? Am I going to do it? Should I just jump? Maybe I should get in slowly. Back to the steps maybe? Maybe I'll sit in the sun a bit first, get really warm so it'll feel nice to jump in. I'm going to do it! No wait.

Anyway.

We jumped.

Or rather, we are in the air. Tonight we pick up a brother and sister pair of gray kittens that, through a complicated series of relationships, a friend-of-a-friend type family found wandering in a field. Are we ready? Hopefully. It's hard to tell till you hit the water how it's going to turn out. I'm really excited, as we have already visited the kittens and they are beyond a doubt sweet, adorable and fun. The idea of being completely responsible for some other being is intimidating, however. I'm pretty sure my parents are apprehensive about my decision.

However.

B and I decided that the worst case scenario, if we absolutely cannot care for the kittens at some point, is that we have to give them to a friend or a no-kill shelter. No one else is willing to take them, and the family that found them is leaving on vacation this weekend. They will have to go to the pound if we don't get them, and it would break my heart for these tiny things to grow up in a cage. At the very least, we can provide them with the love and individual care they'll need as kittens (they seem to be around 6 weeks old). So we're going to do our best.

So while I am nervous about being able to provide them with what they deserve, I am also very excited to grow our little family by two. Pictures for sure to come!



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