All My Happy Feels

Hello loves! Is that annoying, to call you loves? Oh well, it sounded kinda like something a Brit would say and you all know how I feel about Brits so I obviously had to say it. Before we get started can I just quickly mention how peeved I am at my photo editor at the moment? For the last two posts my photos haven't been showing up with the quality enhancements I've made to the brightness/colors. Instead, they've been uploading all grainy and faded. Sigh...life is hard. ;) I'll figure out what's causing the problem soon enough, though! Anyway, I wore this little number for church yesterday and I lurved it. I'm sure there where a number of people in the congregation chuckling at the weird girl wearing plaid and pink, but if there where I didn't care because I felt FAAAAbulous. This lovely little skirt I inherited from my dear grandma is quickly becoming one of my favorites. I still need to get it brought in a little bit so it'll fit properly without pins but I know of no tailoring places in the area. Any of you Utah readers know of any good tailors in Salt Lake? If you do, email me asap please! Also, one of the perks of having curly hair is that if you brush out the curls, you get loose, fluffy, fifties style curls. Awesome on days when you're going for a retro look like I was going for today! You know that thought for a post that I have now already put off not once but twice? Well, it'll have to wait one more day. I was completely planning on discussing it today but my sister reminded me that I have a few other things to mention.

 {F21: plaid shirt similar; Charlotte Russe: nude heels similar; Skirt: inherited from my grandma similar}
Alright then, first things first. My little sister just put her LDS mission papers in and she should be receiving her call sometime in the next two weeks. EEK! She keeps trying to cajole me into being sad, but how can I be sad when she's going off on the Lord's errand? I'm mostly excited! Just think of the adventures and amazing experiences she'll have! I'm so very happy for her. The next item of exciting news is that my aunt is coming to visit from Guatemala on the 22nd! I'm DYING of happiness and if excitement where measured on a scale of completely dry to wet your pants, I'd be on the notch just above peeing my pants. She's also bringing her youngest daughter with her which I'm so elated about because I have yet to meet the little darling. I've only ever spoken with her through skype and if she's even half as adorable as she is over the computer than I'm positive that I'll never want to let her go. The last thing on my list of items to discuss is my little pup. His one year adoption date was two days ago. It's wild to think that he's already been with the family for a whole year. My family was never the dog loving type so to say that we never expected to own a dog, much less love one as much as we love our little guy, would be an understatement. He came into our lives at a time when our little family was bent with the burden of a thousand suns. This time last year my family and I where facing so many trials and so many tribulations. Solutions to these trials seemed impossible. Yet, we persevered.  Although there where times when our plates, that already felt fit to burst with burdens, where loaded with yet another problem we tried to plow onward each day with a perfect faith in Christ, God, and the gospel knowing that even though the odds seemed stacked against us all would be well. Our little pup came as the tiny little ray of brightness that we so needed at the time. Caring for him gave us something to take our minds off of the day to day struggles. Watching his tiny carefree self run about brightened our hearts, and most of all, feeling the way that he genuinely cared for each of us showed us that amidst the darkest of troubles there is still love all around. It's surprising to me how apt dogs are at reading emotions. During those difficult months last year and the months after my grandma passed this year it was surprising to me how well our little guy was able to read our emotions. Whenever he sensed one of us was having a particularly emotional day he would calmly stride up to us and gently rub his tiny little head against our ankles, as if to say, "Don't worry. It'll all be ok, because I love you." The journey from this time last year till now was one full of struggle and heartache, yet, without these experiences I don't know that my family and I would be as strong and united as we are. All these things where for our own good and experience. :)
Love this little face! Happy one year of adoption Roku!

Much Love!

P.S. After next post, which will be a little serious, I will get back to the silly jokes and light heartedness (yes, I totally just made up the word heartedness, sue me ;)! I realize I've been a little Intense Isabelle on you all lately, so it'll be time to get back to my silly antics. :)


Starburst Pink and Creepy Dreams

Hello my dears! How goes it? You know how last post I said I had a thought out post for you all that I was going to put off until today so I could complain instead? Yeah...well, I lied. THAT post will have to be delayed yet again because today I have an extra special treat for you all! I'm co-hosting the Fab Favorites link up with Style Elixir! EEP! Can you tell I'm excited? ;) I'm excited. Anyway, for the new comers stopping by today, check out this series of posts so you can get to know me a little better and be sure to check out my tabs. I can promise you a good hardy laugh at my expense and a handful of giggles if you do! And what's better than a handful of giggles? Nothin' if ya ask me. I love giggles, especially when they come in handfuls! Anyway, for you old timers you may have noticed that my blog got a new design! I loved the old one but I decided I wanted to switch things up a bit and go with something a little less...pink. Not that there's anything wrong with pink but I just wanted to bring in more boldness with blacks and whites. Anyway, tell me what you think! Also, can we discuss the weather for a hot minute here? I know I've been rambling on and on about how I want it to cool down already and feel like fall, but this past week just got downright freezing. It's like Utah wants to kick all my wishes for a nice lovely and long fall in the shins and bring in the winter. Suck fest. It's even already snowed up in some parts of the mountains!! SNOW, guys, SNOW, in September no less! It looks like there won't be many, if any, fall runs up in the canyon for me this year. Boooo! Also, can I just mention how I forgot how it feels to feel like I'm living in the middle of butt crack Antarctica when it gets cold around here? Not as fun and lovely as I remember...

So, I couldn't decide between the denim jacket or the brown leather jacket so I just wore both! I wore the brown for the first half of the day and the denim for the second half. Win, win. Tell me, which do you like better? The denim or the brown leather? Which, side note on the brown leather jacket. My mom actually gave this to me last week, and I was SUPER excited because it's Guess brand! Never did I ever think that I would own a Guess leather jacket. My mom actually bought it a few years ago and never really wore it, so when she was cleaning out her closet last week she gave the gem to me. Hoorah! Free Guess jackets!! Oh, and this tee shirt? Totally awesome. My little sister actually bought it for my older sister last week when they went to the Muse concert, which, by the way, I'm SO sad that I missed. Muse has pretty much been my entire winter running playlist for the last 3 years. What makes a run through an icy tundra more enjoyable than good old "Map of the Problematique"? Nothing. Ugh, concert of a lifetime and I wasn't there!! Waaa! Next time, next time. At least I get to borrow this sick tee shirt every now and then to console me. Aren't the colors of it just awesome, though? They go perfectly with this starburst pink Aldo's bag that I borrowed from my older sister. Oh, and don't think that's all I have for you in way of a post today. I mean, you all know I could talk and talk and talk for hours if I wanted to, so naturally I have a minor little topic to discuss with you all. The topic for today you ask? Dreams.

Can you guys usually remember your dreams? I can usually remember all of my dreams. I can even remember them years after I've had them. I have one all time favorite dream that was so incredible it's never been beaten, a few pretty freaky ones worth mentioning, a dream that I only ever have when I'm sick, and a couple of steamy make-out Pride&Prejudice level of romance dreams that leave me feeling all giddy and romantic when I wake up. Let's start with the romantic ones. The first one that comes to mind is this dream I had once that I was married to Cristian Bale. Sigh...so great. We were so in love, and life as the wife of Batman was just as incredible as it sounds...sigh...perfection. What a great dream. Anyway, moving on. The next romantic dream that comes to mind is this dream I had once that I was dating this boy, from my actual real life, that for the sake of protecting identities we will call Biceps. Biceps, if you're reading this, you know who you are. I mean, not many can claim to have your level of bicep definition. Anyway, in real life, Biceps has strayed off the straight and narrow but in my dream he stayed true to his former standards and was just the complete package. Dream him, on top of being his totally gorgeous fit self, shared my values, and one day when we both happened to be taking a stroll in our old neighborhood (in real life I grew up with Biceps, just so ya know) we bumped into each other and reignited that old flame from our childhood. Biceps and I start dating, he turns out to be an enormously good kisser, and Biceps and I live happily ever after as he carries me off into the sunset with his incredibly toned arms. The end. Yay. Then, of course, I always wake up mad that Biceps didn't actually stay on the straight and narrow so I could realistically date him. Dang you Biceps! Dang you! Anyway, let's move on before I get all ticked off again at Biceps. Let's talk about my recurring sick dream. Whenever I'm even the slightest bit sick I have this dream that I'm staring at a blinding white wall with a simple black clock on it. For the entire dream all I can do is stare at this clock, which happens to be moving in slow motion. I also, happen to hear it's movement in slow motion too.  Every tick instead of being "tick, tick, tick" is "tttttttiiiiiickkkkkkk...ttttttttttiiiiickkkkkk". It's super duper creepy. Now, let's talk about the best dream I have EVER had...

 {h&m: pants $10 in store, booties similar, wide brimmed hat; Osh Kosh: denim jacket similar; Guess: leather jacket similar; Aldo's: pink purse it's only available in yellow and gray now; Top: bought at the Muse concert; Bracelets: bought in Guatemala}
Typically some of my favorite dreams involve flying. Flying is just enormously fun, at least in dreams, which explains why my all time favorite dream involves flying. In my all time favorite dream I'm Harry Potter. Yupp, that's right. Your eyes aren't deceiving you, I actually said Harry Potter. My all time favorite dream involves me being a teenage wizard boy who defeats the forces of evil. ;)  In this dream, I dreamt that I was Harry Potter and I was playing a game of Quidditch against Slytherin. Flying on that broom was the most fun thing ever you guys. Even, though, I was supposedly Harry Potter in this dream I still had my long curly hair and it felt incredible blowing through the wind. Ah, so fun. I know, I know, it's the weirdest and nerdiest best dream ever but whatever. Being a teenage wizard boy who wins quidditch matches is just what I like to dream about. What are your favorite dreams? Oh, and one last note before I wrap this up. These black pants are INcredible. I had been looking for flared jeans this ENTIRE year with no luck. They were all either too expensive or just looked plain weird on me. You see, when you're smaller in stature it's really hard to find flared jeans that don't emphasize your lack of height and that don't require wearing nine inch heels so that the hems don't drag. This week, though, I was lucky enough to find these bad boys at h&m. They're the perfect length, UBER comfy, and super flattering. Best part, though? They were ten bucks!! YAAAY! Well, that's all the endless chatting I have for you today, so go on ahead and link UP! 

Much Love!

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One of those days

I had something pretty specific to post about today and then it all went to shuck because today was one of those days. Those days where everything is just "stupid, stupid, stupid" and you want to reserve the right to shout that as you stomp your foot and clench your fists like the three year old inside of you that was ticked off by the day's events. The day started out perfectly alright, and the majority of the day wasn't actually all that bad. In fact, it was actually pretty good. But THEN all of these tiny inconsequential annoyances started piling up and piling up until I got to tonight. Tonight, when I'm sitting here typing this out with a massive headache, at that point right in between punching a donkey or having a massive ugly cry session. Haven't really decided which route to go yet, but seeing as my access to a donkey is pretty limited I might just have to go with the massive ugly cry sesh. In lieu of my original topic, which will now be saved for Friday, I will be indulging myself in a nice and peachy complaining post. Enjoy. Or skip out on my whining and just look at the outfit pictures. I'll leave the decision up to your lovely selves. Now, before I get started on my whining session I have to inform you all that for the most part I like to look on the bright side. No matter how wrongly things are going I like to remain as utterly annoyingly cheerful as possible. I try to stay bright, positive, and happy. No matter how crappy the day is. I'm still a human, though, so there are still just those days that so many small things pile up to equal a massively cranky me. Oh, and you'll be surprised by how shockingly stupid the things that piled up to this enormously annoyed me are.

It all started with the wind. The wind and I are archenemies. I hate the wind. The wind hates me. It's annoying to have to run in, it always blows my hair all over my face so that I'm walking around blind, it incessantly feels the need to display my underwear to the world by blowing up my skirts or dresses, and it finds it incredibly hilarious to slam any and all types of doors in my face. Then the annoyances continued when I started to get an incessant ache all throughout my joints and muscles. It's something that usually happens to me the day after a particularly hard run. I'm sure there is some sort of scientific explanation for this, but I am not aware of it. All I know is that the day after a speed or long run my muscles and joints swell up and ache like a monkey's uncle. Not a sore muscle type of pain, though, an arthritic like pain if you will. It blows. Next, sleep deprivation started to kick in. I'm not one to be able to stay up very late. The latest I can barely manage to stay up is 11 o'clock, and that's pushing it. Last night, though, I had the brilliant stroke of genius that I should have a mini Downton Abbey marathon. Don't judge me for being a Downton fan, I have already openly admitted to you all that I'm basically a 75 year old woman. Plus, I'm a rabid fan of all things British. Anyway, I decided that since season four premiered on Sunday (Yay! But actually boo because it only premiered in the UK and won't premiere in the U.S. till January) I had to finally finish watching season three. That meant watching five one hour long episodes back to back. I started this crazy marathon at 8 which means that I was up until one in the morning watching Downton Abbey. At the time it seemed totally worth it to stay up two hours past my utter limit, I mean, Sybil died! She DIED! And I totally sobbed. I'm not just talking tears here, I'm talkin' full on body shaking audible sobs. That's how deep I get into this show. I know, it's sad. Whatever.

 {h&m: blazer, layered necklace similar, knit socks, sheer tights, star ring; Tanger Outlets: dress similar; Tilly's: boots similar}
Anyway, it felt totally worth it to stay up watching five hours of Downton Abbey until at the end of the last episode stupid Mathew had to go and die too (waaaaa!). Oh and then there's the fact that no matter how late I go to bed my body can never seem to let me sleep in passed 7:30 so even though I hadn't gone to sleep till one I still woke up at 7:30. So, by the time four o'clock rolled around I was completely and utterly beat. I was still at work, though, so I told myself that I had to persevere and remain cheery! But THEN the lack of sleep headache set in and my star ring got caught on my tights and tore a massive hole in them, rendering them utterly useless (good thing I still have another pair). By that time my will to remain cheerful was quickly diminishing, and along with it was going any last traces I had of energy. I started to flip through the photos for this post and I realized that what I had thought was the cutest part of the outfit wasn't even showing up very well because of the lighting. I had loved the combination of sheer tights with knee high knit socks and boots. However, upon looking at the pictures I noticed that you couldn't really tell the difference between my boots and my socks, and THAT folks is the last stupid annoyance that just threw me overboard. Then cranky Allexis came out and it got ugly. Not really, though, because all I did was just close up shop and go home quietly raging to air my grievances in this post.

Much Love! ;)

Linking up With: Because Shanna Said So, The Pleated Poppy


Autumnal Gladness

Top of the morning to you all! Yesterday was the Autumnal Equinox, which means fall is officially here! I forgot to pay attention to the fact that since yesterday was the equinox the hours of the night and day where perfectly equal. I'm sad I forgot. However, I'm so very thrilled that Autumn is here at last. It's so refreshing to see the early signs of it's arrival beginning to show. When my little pup and I go on our morning walks, I'm starting to see that dash of warm orange, soft yellow, and fiery red that mark the leaves as they begin to fall. Of all the seasons, Autumn is by far my favorite. Even, though, Spring is typically associated with newness, for me it's Autumn that brings in that sense of fresh beginnings. The trees are shedding the year's leaves in a burst of bright glory, making way for their winter hibernation and the new year that is to follow. Just as we ourselves are reflecting on the year's memories and experiences and beginning to shed the leaves of the past year to make way for the new one. I love that the colors of Autumn denote a warmness that isn't necessarily felt physically. I've always associated fall with warmth even though the air has that wonderfully fresh quality that can't be described as anything other than crisp. The warmness of fall comes rather from the feelings of cheer from the anticipation of the upcoming holidays and the colors of the trees than from actual physical warmth.
For me, autumn is the world's invitation to join it in turning over a new leaf, to spin the memories of the last year into leaves of beautifully bright proportions and just when they're at their brightest to let them go, let them fall away and be carried off with the wind. Already, seeing the fiery crimson and the glittering gold of the leaves is filling my heart, lungs, and every pore of my being with a hope, warmth, and cheerfulness that can't be described as anything other than Autumn. This year, more than any other, I want to fully take in and appreciate the beauty that is Autumn. This was one of my grandma's favorite seasons of all. As I was walking my dog this morning I was fondly remembering how my grandma had a talent of aptly and colorfully describing each season and the joy/appreciation she felt for each of them. Fall being one of her favorites, and one that she only got to experience when she was here with us in the states, she would come in every afternoon after her walk full of raptures about how marvelous the trees looked. As I was thinking on these memories, for a moment, my heart ached for her but then I thought to myself that because she isn't here to experience this season for herself I need to enjoy it all the more for the both of us. Whenever my grandma was out enjoying nature she always remarked how she felt closer to God.
When I get to experience these views for myself out on my runs, I too feel closer to my Heavenly Father. When I look out over the peaks of the mountains I find it difficult to deny the existence of a God. My heart is full.
The world is fresh. The world is good.  The world is GLAD. Happy Autumn!

Much love!


And a Half

Today is the 19th. This post won't be published till tomorrow so by the time this post reaches all of your lovely eyes it'll be the 20th. Right now, though, as I type, it is still the 19th. I'm sitting here sippin' on some noodle soup with the occasional munch of ritz cracker just contemplating the fact that today I am officially 21 and a half. It's wild to think that half a year has already passed since I turned 21. It's wild to think that in those six months so much happened, so many lessons where learned, and I already feel as though I've aged a life time rather than six months. Before I know it, though, the next six months will have flown by and I'll be on the precipice of 22, and that is even more mind blowing than the fact that I am already 21 and a half. Even though I definitely feel like I've aged more than a human has a right to in six months I definitely do not feel even the tiniest bit ready to take on the stripes of 22. The stripes of 21 are just barely starting to grow on me and fit me well. There where so many hopes that I had for 21, and I know there's still another six months left for those hopes to come to fruition, but I feel like the defining experience of 21 will unarguably be the loss of a loved one. I know I've talked about it more times than you've probably wanted to hear about it but it's just one of those experiences that take indefinable amounts of time to come fully to terms with. I'd be lying if I said there still weren't memories that can't be revisited without tearing up. Either way, I feel like that experience was part of the learning process and was a necessary component in becoming the me that is 21.
I've had a few thoughts floating around my mind that in all honestly boil down to one thought: body image. Growing up, my mom always taught my siblings and I the value in loving and having confidence in ourselves. She always told us that we where beautiful and taught us to believe in that fact as well. However, she also taught us that beauty wasn't all we had to offer in the world. She always taught us to believe in ourselves and believe in the fact that we were valuable in many different ways. One of the key lessons she taught us was that in order to be loved we needed to love ourselves first. She always said that people comported themselves in a manner that directly reflected how high or how low they esteemed themselves. Kind of like that saying from the film adaptation of The Perks of Being a Wallflower, "we accept the love we think we deserve". She always taught us something along those lines, however, she took it one step deeper. We accept the treatment we think we deserve. The way we allowed others to treat us was inseparably intertwined with the esteem we had for ourselves. She taught my sisters and I that we are daughters of a heavenly king and as such we needed to have a love for ourselves that would reflect our knowledge of where we came from. These lessons instilled in me a confidence and self worth that I had thought would be unbreakable.
When I was going through the turmoil that is being a teenager, I struggled with feeling confident in my hair. I know that sounds crazy, but when you're a kid you struggle with almost anything that makes you different from the crowd, no matter how big or small. My big curly hair was my insecurity. My insecurity in my hair caused me to put an over emphasis on a part of me that I was proud of and that I felt like I could be confident in, the size of my body. I inherited my mom's smaller frame and thin bones, so growing up I was always on the thinner side and it was easy for me to stay there. As I was going through those teen years, though, I was unconsciously paying more and more attention to my weight and thinking more and more about it. I would think about how many calories I ate in a day, how much I had worked out at tennis practice, and if my weight had gone up even in the slightest. I always told myself that I respected myself too much to ever enter into the destructive cycle of an eating disorder but what I didn't realize was that the amount of thought I was putting into how much I weighed was probably just as unhealthy. Without knowing it, by focusing so much on how big or small I was, I was wrapping up my self esteem in how thin I thought I should be. I didn't realize this until the day that I stopped weighing the weight that I had been so proud of, "a buck ten". The year I turned 20 I started taking it easier with my running and eating more desserts than I probably should have. Before I knew it I had put on 20 lbs. That's when I realized that over the past 5 years or so I had been slowly mixing up my self esteem with my weight. It finally hit me like a ton of bricks, because I suddenly stopped feeling happy, confident, or even comfortable in my own skin. For almost a good year I struggled with feeling happy in the me that was 20 lbs heavier. Over that year I started trying to teach myself to be happy with myself regardless of how much I weighed. I started reflecting on all of the lessons my mom had taught me about self-esteem and used them as a jumping off point for getting to a place where I loved and esteemed myself regardless of any other factor other than the fact that I am a daughter of God. I thought I had reached a point where the way I thought about my weight was no longer intertwined with my self worth, and I embarked on the journey of loosing the twenty pounds I had gained. I took up my running more seriously again, and I tried to stay away from treats or snacks that where lacking in nutrients and/or weren't strictly necessary.
I lost the weight and was excited to find that I was once again fitting into my old clothes. Around that time, in one of my graphic design classes, I watched a film about the media's affect on women. The film delved into the affects of the sizing system used for clothing. The woman in the film discussed her distaste for the existence of a size "zero". I'm paraphrasing here but what she said was basically to the effect of, what does the existence of a size "zero" and the fact that it's something that women strive for say? What does it say about society that women are pushing themselves to be a zero? Zero essentially means "nothing". Why in the world would "nothing" be something that we as women strive to become? After watching the film I started questioning my own motives for having wanted to loose the weight, and why I had pushed myself to get back down to that size zero. When I had made the decision that I wanted to get back to my old weight and size I thought I was doing it with healthier intentions and that I had cured myself of my old ways of over thinking about my weight. While I had definitely made progress in how I thought of my weight and its relation to my self esteem the fact that I was so thrilled by fitting into size zero jeans spoke volumes about how much more I still had to travel to be in a place where what size I was had very little to do with how I thought of myself. From the time that I watched the film till now I can say that my weight is something that I don't pay a whole lot of attention to anymore. It's been a few months since I last weighed myself and I don't think I will weigh myself again until I feel confident in the fact that I'll be happy regardless of what the scale says. In terms of how much I weigh, I want to be able to think of it only in terms of "Is that number healthy in relation to how tall I am and the level of activity I do". It really is a very fine line between thinking about weight too much and not thinking about it enough. There really is two sides of the spectrum. Thinking about it to the point where you get to weigh too little or not thinking about it enough that you get to the point where you weigh more than is probably advisable. It is definitely a challenge to get to that middle ground. While I've come miles from the days when I was fixated on having to be the thinnest girl in the room, I do still get a little too excited when someone tells me I'm looking thin. I can confidently say AGAIN, though, that regardless of my size I love and esteem myself as a daughter of a loving Heavenly Father.
I never wanted to be the type of girl who valued her physical image more than anything else. That type of thinking would get in the way of something that I've always wanted since I was a little girl, which is motherhood. I didn't want to be so obsessed with the way that my body looked that I would sacrifice having kids to keep it. I also, didn't want it to be such a central part of my thoughts that when I did have kids I would be more focused on getting back to a certain weight rather than paying attention to them in those beautiful moments of infancy. There's this lyric from a band that I love that goes, "To know me as hardly golden is to know me all wrong". For a while there I had known myself as hardly golden, and I had known myself all wrong. My mamma taught me better than that, though, and I know myself and I am golden.
I know this post has already been light years long but there is one last thing that I want to share that came into my mind as I was writing this post. My sister took these photos one day because she felt like she wanted to play around with some make-up ideas she had for this mask. She made me up and we thought it looked cool enough to capture in some photos. At the time, I didn't give much thought at all to the fact that I was just wearing a simple tank top. While I love the photos and the way she blacked out my eyes and painted my lips gold, as I was putting the photos up on this post I realized that the fact that my shoulders are bare bothered me. For me, modesty had always just included keeping private areas private and making sure my stomach was covered. As far as tank tops and short shorts went I never had a whole lot of issue with it. This past year, and most especially these past couple of weeks I've been putting more and more thought into my personal modesty. I do believe that modesty is a personal thing, however, I started pondering about whether or not what I believed showed outwardly. I feel that my beliefs are definitely apparent when it comes to lifestyle choices, my behavior toward others, and the manner of language that I use. I asked myself, though, would a person really know any of this by the way I dress? Not always. I want my unshakable testimony of and faith in the gospel to be evident in all aspects of my life. I want to be able to stand as a witness of God at all times and in all places. I want my testimony and the happiness it brings me to be evident just by looking at me and that means cleaning up some of my wardrobe choices. I'm not perfect, but from here on out I want the outfits I share on this blog to be indicative of what I believe. I know that lately people have been very outspoken about the whole topic of modesty and some discussions have even turned into heated arguments. I'm not saying this to provoke any sort of discussion or argument, I'm simply sharing it as something that was on my mind and that I believe.

As always, much love!


Male vs Female

So I have this very clear idea of what I want this post to be about, in fact, I've been mulling over the subject quite a bit these past few days. Haha, wow, I just built that up like I'm going to be announcing that I'll be moving to the middle of butt crack Egypt. You'll be surprised at how surprisingly unimportant the topic actually is. ;) Before we get to that, though, I just have to complain about something that is just driving me bonkers right now. Before this month I had gone a good six years without getting a SINGLE mosquito bite. Not a single one. In SIX years! Now, though, it's like my body has turned into mosquito central. It's like I'm wearing a sign on my head that says "Bite me. I'm juicy, and delicious". In the past two weeks I've gotten not one, not two, but SEVEN mosquito bites!! They've all been one right after another too! The first two were on my leg, the next one was on my butt (not even joking), then I got two right after that on my left arm and one on my back, AND now that the ones on my arms finally cleared up I got one on the back of my right leg. UGHHHH. I just want to scratch myself in peace!! I'm beginning to think that maybe there is a mosquito secretly residing in my leggings, because every time I've gotten a bite on my legs I've been wearing these leggings. I'm SO sick of being itchy. The bug bite on my butt did teach me one thing, though. I have INCREDIBLE self control. I mean, to not scratch my butt even, though, the stupid mosquito bite was ridiculously itchy shows some pretty incredible self restraint if ya ask me. I think it's also a testament to how lady like I am that I'd rather suffer through ridiculous amounts of itchiness than scratch my butt. Then, of course, I had to go and ruin all that lady likeness by sharing this fact very publicly with you all. ;) Oh, and one last side story before we get to the real topic. The little peak of black that you see there poking out just above my gray cami, isn't just another black cami like you might assume. It is actually the first new sports bra that I have purchased for myself in YEARS. Actually it's the first sports bra I have EVER purchased for myself. Up until now, I'd been surviving on a sports bra my mom had gotten for me when I was twelve and the two pairs she had bought me back when I first got addicted to running when I was 18. I mean, I just figured that since the one from when I was twelve still fit and the two fancy ones my mom had given me 3 years ago weren't completely falling apart they'd do the job of keeping everything nice and compact just fine. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I went on a shopping trip with my mom to an Addidas outlet and I spotted this little sucker on the sale rack. I figured, what the hay, might as well buy a new one of these things and see how it goes. Best decision ever. I've been completely missing out these past bazillion years without a new sports bra. Running with this little sucker is like sheer bliss. It's so awesome in fact, that sometimes I don't take it off after I run and end up wearing it as my everyday bra like I did today. I swear this bra is even magical. It keeps my boobage looking nice and flat from the side (I actually quite like having a small chest), and yet from the front it gives the illusion that I have juicy, juicy mangoes rather than the wee little mosquito bites that I actually have for boobage. I mean, just look at the picture above. Look at it. BAM! Victoria's Secret model status. Now, on to the real topic at hand, the fact that we all have occasional glaring gaps in knowledge. Ya know, those things that are really obvious but we somehow never learned. My glaring gap? The definition of male and female.

{H&M: military jacket similar, leggings, boots similar, layered charm necklace similar; F21: plaid shirt similar; Aldo's: faux leather tote}

I didn't learn what the difference between male and female was until I was about ten or eleven. I mean, I knew that one was a boy and one was a girl but I didn't know which was which. I'd always get the two confused. I would think that male meant girl and female meant boy. Everyday of school starting from second grade all the way till the fifth grade I would wonder how in the heck the rest of class knew how to answer male/female questions and how in the bloody heck they knew the difference. I'd always think to myself, "I've been going to school with these kids for the past FOUR years!! How do they know this? How do I not know this? I haven't missed a SINGLE day of school!" Then of course, I eventually realized that the reason I didn't know the difference and the other kids did was the reason for most of my glaring gaps in knowledge up to that point: I'm foreign and English is my second language. While they had learned English from their parents, I had learned English from 90's alternative rock and Disney movies. I mean, Cruella De Vil wasn't going around talking about how male means boy and female means girl, and The Cranberries (one of my favorite bands when I was four and first learning English) certainly weren't singing "a male is a boy, and a female is a girl lalala, ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE". Only a Cranberries fan would get why I added the zombies into that last sentence. Well, anyways, that's it for ya. I have a few more gaps in knowledge but I'm kinda tired of typing now and I want to get started on watching the new season of New Girl and The Mindy Project. Yay TV! Oh, one last thing, though. The inspiration for this post came from the place where almost all of my post inspiration comes from, How I Met Your Mother. There's a whole episode centered around the characters gaps in knowledge, among which are not being able to wink (I can't do this either, actually), not believing that the North Pole is an actual place, and pronouncing chameleon cha(as in cha cha)-me-leรณn instead of ka-mi-lion. I highly recommend watching the episode. Seriously. Season 6, episode 19. Netflix. Watch it. And laugh. If you watch it and don't think it's funny then I'm pretty sure you're a humorless poppycock. ;)

Much Love!