"I've got nothing to wear!"

I don't know about y'all, but I often lay in bed in the morning, dreading the hassle of getting up and dressed for work. I'm often plagued by that "I have nothing to wear!" feeling and end up settling for something quick and comfy (and barely professional) instead of taking advantage of my literally enormous wardrobe of cute, professional clothes (that, oh by the way, I spent half a fortune on at some time).

But let's be honest, putting together those adorable and work-appropriate outfits at 6 o'clock in the morning is damn near impossible.

After years of having this problem, I think I've finally come up with a solution.

It's simple really-- sometime, when you actually have the time and energy, get in your closet and try on all those cute clothes, and put outfits together. I'm talking jewelry, accessories, shoes-- all that stuff you buy and then never wear! Then, take pictures of the completed outfits and put them in an album on your phone, like so:

Now next time you're laying in bed filled with dread at the thought of getting ready for work, pull out that phone and "shop" for outfits until you find one you like. Somehow, already having all the pieces planned out makes it much easier to find the motivation to get up and get dressed. Added bonus: you end up actually wearing the stuff you buy!

On expectations

Throughout my life, there have been several times when I have spent the better part of days or weeks obsessing over the question "What am I doing with my life?"

Today is one of those days.

Last night, I met up with my girlfriend, Jenny, for dinner. Jenny and I were very close friends in high school, and still keep in contact and get together several times a year. I love talking to Jenny. She's witty and intellectual, and self-deprecatingly honest about her own vanity and superiority complex in a way that makes it more relatable than snobby. It's uncanny how similar-minded we are, which is probably why we've remained such good friends all these years. Our lives have taken similar paths since we met-- through middle school, high school, four years of college at universities, and starting our first "big girl" jobs-- the exception being that after graduating from college, she married Allen, and I, of course, didn't. My indefinite single-hood never seemed to change our friendship, because, as her husband often jokes, they just pretend we (meaning Justin and I) are married. Since we basically live together, it's basically the same thing, he says. That's a lot of "basically"'s for me, but I guess I see his point. We do things together as couples, so it doesn't feel like we're really in different places in life.

All this changed last night when Jenny told me she's 14 weeks pregnant.

Admittedly, I didn't react the way you're supposed to when someone tells you they are with child. After asking her to repeat herself twice and picking my jaw up off her kitchen counter, the first words out of my mouth were "Are you sick?" Like, morning sickness, is what I was thinking. It was 5:30 in the evening. My second question was worse, which I realized as I heard myself say the words "Was it on purpose?" Yes, they were trying, thank God, because how rude am I to ask if she's pregnant with an accidental child?! The next thing I said was something about how I felt like she had aged ten years in my mind since I walked in her door several minutes before having this conversation. To that she crinkled her nose and retorted "I'm still me, you know," obviously not pleased with my reaction to her big news.

I know this sounds like I'm making a big deal out of nothing. Well, not nothing, but something that is a normal life occurrence for pretty much everyone all the time. But, it's Jenny. She's the first of my friends that I grew up with, that I consider on my level, to be pregnant. Sure, I know plenty of people my age that have babies, but I can always write them off in my mind. "You're pregnant because you're stupid" or "because your life has no direction" are two of my favorite excuses that I give other girls my age who are pregnant. But Jenny-- an intelligent, educated, practical career woman-- I can't use any of those excuses for her. For all intensive purposes, I've considered her life and her plans to be synonymous with my life and my plans up until this point. Which leads me to today, "What am I doing with my life?"

As humans, we all have a tendency to compare ourselves with other members of our species. It's ingrained in us. It's why people watch television, and follow fashion trends, and get plastic surgery, and go bankrupt trying to "keep up with the Jones's." It's a sickness of sorts, always being compelled to compare what we see in the mirror with what we see all around us and obsess over how we stack up in comparison.

Yesterday I would have described myself as being relatively content with where my life is right now and where I see it going within the next few years. But tonight is a different story. I feel like I'm in last place of a race I didn't know I was running, and I can't even see the person in front of me to know how much distance I'd have to make up to be back in the pack. I'm stuck in a spiral, questioning everything, and feeling like I'm stuck going nowhere. "Am I settling?" I wonder, "Is this really the life I want?"

What am I doing with my life?

On accessorizing

Accessorizing is my new favorite fashion endeavor. I've never been what I would consider "good" at pairing accessories with outfits, but recently I've been putting some effort into it and I'm loving the result! Adding accessories is a great way to make an old outfit come back to life and feel new and fresh again! Also, it's a great way to dress up comfy items (my fave!) and make them look a hint fancier without sacrificing any comfort. 

Plus, accessorizing doesn't have to break the bank! I just recently picked up this intricate multistrand necklace from Target for only $14.99.

On goodbyes and things I learned from Twilight

You can only say "I love you" so many times. There's only so many hugs you can give, and so much time you can hold on. At some point, you have to let go.

Justin has been gone now for 170 days. In that time, he's spent two weeks at home-- the last of which was about a month ago. This time was the hardest goodbye, because I knew he'd be leaving for seven months straight, and that where he was going would be dangerous and possibly unreachable by phone and internet. I was able to walk him to his gate in the airport on his last day here. In theory, this sounds like a great idea, but in reality it really just prolongs the inevitable last kiss, last hug-- last goodbye.

When you don't know how much time you have left, it makes the time you have all the more precious. 

On Halloween

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays for one specific reason-- I LOVE dressing up! And I loved this Halloween even more because Justin was home on leave so we got to celebrate together! 

This year, we went as Barbie and GI Joe-- very fitting for both of us, and kind of couple-y. 

Of all the fabulous Barbies there are to be, I picked the workout Barbie from Toy Story 2. What do you think-- did I pull it off?

On "holding down the fort"

Yesterday I had my first emergency of this deployment-- my first I-need-my-man, can't-handle-this-alone physical emergency, because we're not counting the kinds of emergencies that can be solved by a good cry and a pint of Ben and Jerry's (of which I've already had several since he left in June).

It all starts with the ridiculous 51-inch TV we bought together. Firstly, you should know that my apartment is 525 square feet. It's a studio design, with only two separate rooms-- the bathroom, and the kitchen/living room/bedroom. So, for lack of any other possible placement, this enormous TV is mounted on the wall, and the bottom of it hangs a solid foot above my head. You sort of have to crane your neck to look at it, and it encourages terrible couch posture, but it literally doesn't fit anywhere else, so there it hangs.

Anyways, I got the bright idea to hook the TV up to an antenna so that I could watch the Olympics (I'm not a believer in cable). Usually this is the kind of task Justin would be in charge of, along with all other tasks that involved electronics of any sort. Basically he is the electronics god. He has a magic way of making everything work that I will never understand, but greatly appreciate! But, alas, he is not here to magically make NBC appear on the TV. So, I decided to give it a try myself. Feeling independent, I did my research (a series of google searches starting with "How do I get local channel reception without cable?"), figured out which antenna I needed, marched up to Best Buy and purchased my $30 magic antenna, and started reading the "Easy Installation" instructions.

And in all honesty, the installation was pretty easy. I was feeling pretty darn proud of myself for accomplishing this task that would usually require my man's assistance, ALL BY MYSELF. But then, as I was tilting the TV back down from securing the antenna cable, the TV came off  one of the the wall mounting brackets and one side scraped down the wall until it was hanging precariously at a 45-degree angle.

My first reaction was to rush to the sagging side and hold it upright, which I quickly realized wasn't going to last long. I tried to push it back up onto the bracket, but it wouldn't click in. Then the remaining bracket, now holding the weight of the whole TV with a little help from me, started CREAKING. That's when I started really freaking out. My arms were getting tired fast as I mentally ran through my options for help-- Jason, five hours away at training. Dad, one hour away at work. And, oh wait, those are the only two people who I know to come to my rescue! Standing there holding half the TV over my head with arms shaking, I started bawling and expecting the worst. It's only a matter of time before the TV falls off the wall and is ruined. What if I get squashed, maybe break a few bones, and have to go to the hospital? Who would even take me to the hospital? What if the TV took out a cat on it's way down? What if it bursts into flames? Why does this have to happen when Justin isn't here to save me? Goddamn it, if he was just here! Now I'm going to die by TV squashing!

This is usually my first response to stress-- I get dramatic.

Then, with arms shaking and tears falling, I started to make a plan. Clearly, I couldn't do anything until I let go of the TV. So, I gently lowered the sagging side back down to its precarious position and got out of the way real quick. More creaking, but no falling! I don't know much about proper procedure for TV free-falling, but I figured it would be less damaging if it wasn't plugged into electricity, so that was step one. Then, I herded our cats into the bathroom, to prevent any curious kittens getting squashed in the event that it let go of the wall. Then, I started frantically knocking on the doors of all my neighbors, none of which I know, and running around the apartment complex desperately looking for someone, anyone, who could help me.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon on a weekday, so naturally no one was home. I checked back at my apartment a couple times to make sure the TV was still attached to the wall, becoming more frantic with every passing minute. It took me about three minutes to find people, and the people I found were two leather-skinned men probably in their mid-thirties standing on the sidewalk outside my apartment complex. It turns out, one is a firefighter, the other is a cop, and they both live on the fourth floor of my building. So, through a stream of tears, I blubbered out a ramble of  "I'm sorry. You don't know me. I need help. My TV is about to fall off the wall. Please. My boyfriend is usually here to fix these things, but he's being deployed. I'm so sorry to pull you randomly off the street. He's going to Afghanistan. I don't usually do this. I don't know what to do. I just know it's going to fall off the wall at any moment and squash a kitten." At least I had the sense to walk quickly while I rambled, so I was back at my apartment in no time, with hefty men in tow, who immediately assessed the situation, sprung to action, and had the TV securely back in its place before I had finished gasping through my life story.

They took my desperate and nearly incomprehensible chatter well.  They didn't let on that they thought I was crazy woman, crying over a TV, although I'm sure they must have been thinking it. They even offered their apartment numbers in case I had another "emergency" and needed help. I'm not sure I ever got to telling them my name, although it's all kind of a blur of emotion.

Looking back, I feel pretty silly about how I reacted to my TV emergency. But as is usual for a military dependent of sorts, it's not always about the emergency. Although I was scared for my TV, and even a little scared for my well-being if it were to come loose on top of me, the impetus behind the tears was my feeling of helplessness in the absence of my hero.

The lives of those left behind during deployments are often overlooked and under-appreciated, but they are brave lives in their own right. Some days, holding down the fort means facing unforeseen dangers and being brave in the wake of difficulties; it means going it alone, or learning to swallow your pride and enlist the help of others. In that way, I guess, we are very similar to our soldiers-- brave, strong, independent, and resourceful.

On fabulous nail polish

Lately, I've had a lot more spare time to pamper myself and get ready in the mornings (one perk of my man being away). So, I've been doing some experimenting with my nails! I'm not usually a big fan of painted fingernails,apart from plain white french tips and a glossy clear shine, but I'm branching out and loving it!

This funky nail art was for July 4th-- to show a little bit of my patriotism and just have some fun!

I used OPI "Spark de Triomphe" (gold sparkle), Sinful Colors "Ruby Ruby", Sinful Colors "Love Nails" (blue), Sally Hansen French Manicure "Pure White", and a thin paintbrush for the star and stripe details.

After that wore off I decided to try this new grey-ish color, and I am loving it!

The color is called "Wet Cement". I picked this one up at HEB while I was grocery shopping.