friday favorites: the where's my personal photographer one

I spent all yesterday thinking it was Friday, and so far today feels like a Wednesday. So I'm looking forward to tomorrow feeling like a...Monday? 

Gag, a Saturday Monday would literally be the worst. 

May all your Saturdays be anything but Mondays. 

Favorite Song

I Believe In A Thing Called Love by The Darkness

Enjoy this crap video because it won't let me post the real weird video...

While driving around falling into the pothole-y roads in Houston this week, I found a CD my upper crust friend made for me with songs we looooooooved (add more o's) in middle and high school. This one made the cut, and it may have made me scream sing along in my car. Maybe. Probably. It'll definitely make you scream sing along right now. 

Favorite Food

Remember how Freddie and I were watching all the 007 movies and making themed dinners? And we were going to do a movie a week until we got through them all? And we started the first week in January? Guess what number we are on? Guess. We are in week nineteen and we are on movie...THREE. Three. Holl to the er, folks, because we are rocking twenty sixteen, obviously. 

Now here's why we are stuck on movie three. Title: Thunderball. Dinner: ummmmm, what? Meatballs and...thunder? We are stuck. So please advise, thank you. 

Favorite Houston Factoid

One year ago yesterday I arrived in Houston with my mom after a crazy month of Freddie being in TX, and me being in SC and GA and LA and then TX. 365 days DOWN. Many more days to go. Math is hard. 

Favorite Pilates Move

Remember that whole Real Life vs. Fake Life post? Well insert that thought process here because in FL I would have stayed up late last night to take Pilates blog pictures with my personal photographer who would either be my husband and/or a real life photographer who follows me around. However, in RL I did not stay up, I do not have a personal photographer (spoiler alert: I do have a husband), and instead I went to bed because I started teaching at 6am yesterday, and I was tired. The End. So enjoy this picture from a training weekend. Please also note that in FL I wear my matching Lululemon workout clothes to train in. In RL I wear this...weird...but comfortable ensemble. 

side note: unless you have a Cadillac, don't try this at home. But please do rotate your spine every day. 

Favorite Hug

Favorite hug(s) = plural = anytime with this dude.

Cue the awwwws. Awwwww.

Happy Friday!
Linking up with Karli and Amanda. 

when the bleep hits the fan. and your head.

Yesterday morning when I was walking Lupe, a bird pooped on my head.

And you know, it's not even that the bird pooped on my head that irks me. It's the fact that it had just finished raining, so I assumed the said drop on my head was a rain drop. I then proceeded to continue to walk Lupe, say hello to all the lovely neighbors of mine also walking their dogs, and get to the elevator before I went up to tuck my hair behind my ear, and I realized that what came off of my hair and onto my hand was not a raindrop. Oh no, it was a bird drop...ping.

This candid, but not at all candid blogger hair tuck pose looks a lot better when it's bird poop-less.

You know when you finish eating and continue to have a grand ol' time with your friends, then you look in a mirror anywhere from one to five hours later, and you realize you've had lunch in your teeth ever since. Then goes the conversation of WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME I HAD FOOD IN MY TEETH?! Then you break up with your friends because that is unforgivable. Just kidding. But seriously, why don't we just tell one another?! Not telling is forgivable (sigh, I guess), but the people who claim they didn't tell you because they didn't notice---?! That's what is unforgivable. Who doesn't notice green in the teeth of the people to whom they are talking? Even ventriloquists show their teeth when they are talking-but-not-talking. Come on, people! Of course you saw! Everybody shows their teeth when they are talking/laughing/thinking they are having a good time with their honest friends.

Because if society could just make it the norm for us to tell one another when we have food in our teeth then I'M SURE the next step to societal normalcy would be for people to tell me when the heck I have bird poop in my hair. Thanks for nothing, the three neighbors I passed on the sidewalk. You know who you are. You also don't know who I am, and don't read my blog so... 

Anyways, in case you were wondering, I washed my hair and have since managed to heal from this tragedy. Physically heal, that is. Obviously I'm not in a healed emotional state yet as the three above paragraphs prove.

So I guess I showed up here today to share something very important and meaningful with you...

ALWAYS tell people when they have food in their teeth, and bird crap in their hair.

The world will be a much better place.

#birdcraptwentysixteen #survivor

4320 minutes of nothing

Freddie was gone this past weekend. For a boy's weekend/fantasy baseball team/league/whatever it's called trip. 

Is it called a fantasy team or fantasy league? Why don't I know this? 

Anyways, I had the best plans for when he was out of town. The best! I started by going over to Trader Joe's to stock up on wine, and I left with wine, oatmeal, raspberries, and cheese. Apparently my "best plans" included eating cheesy oatmeal with raspberries on top? With a glass of rosé? <<I can get down with the latter part of that plan. 

And then suddenly I blinked, and I was heading to the airport to pick him up last night. 

Wait, where's all the stuff that was supposed to happen in the middle of the wine/oatmeal/raspberries/cheese buying and the airport picking up?! Why are my finger nails still naked and the laundry still not done?! Why isn't the dishwasher unloaded?! Why aren't the floors mopped?! 

Insert the part this weekend where I did manage to spend an entire hour just walking around Target. With nothing in my cart. And then I was paying at Target and let's just say there were suddenly things in my cart then. Ugh, this entire paragraph is so basic, and I love it. 

But let's go back to those dirty, not mopped floors. Because I'm still trying to figure out how I managed to fill up 4320 minutes, but NOT mop the floors. 

I went back to my Camera Roll to see if I could figure out what went down in the past 4320 minutes that felt like 4 seconds. Here is the evidence I found:

I took and very successfully passed a Sound Of Music quiz. Since I grew up watching that movie twice a day with my brother and mom, I would be embarrassed to receive any score lower than 100, and I'm actually kind of embarrassed that I didn't get a score higher than 100. Freddie, if you are reading this, I am quite angry with you for never letting me get my Do-Re-Me on in our house. 

During my hour of nothing in my Target cart/suddenly lots of things in my Target cart I sent this picture to my sister asking for help with which one would make my coloring look less ghostly and more pale and beautiful...

...and then I went against her judgment and tried on a completely different dress that turned me into a real life pear. Hello, hips! Nice of you to poke out 2 extra feet in your new dress. No, the dress didn't come with a Wide Load sign. 

sidebar: since I posted a dressing room selfie, does that make me a fashion blogger now?! #fingerscrossed #not

I had no less than eight pictures that looked like this. Apparently I thought that if I just kept trying my phone would take better far, far away pictures of the Houston Ballet performance last night? Spoiler alert: I think they kept getting more blurry. Spoiler of the Spoiler alert: no, it wasn't because of the rosé.

And finally, what's a wasted 4320 minutes of a weekend without one Lu-ster picture?! Lupe was my very best friend this weekend.

And if saying my dog was my very best friend doesn't tell you how thrilling my weekend was then...

Happy Monday! 

Hopefully you mopped your floors or accomplished something productive and equivalent to that. 

currently: the year is going by too quickly edition

You know how when you're reading blogs and everyone is like Oh em gee. Time goes so fast?! How is it already May?! I just drank some sparking cider this past New Year's Eve like last week! Giggle giggle laugh laugh and all that.

Well I'm here saying the exact same things today. Because seriously, it's May? May 2016? Are you sure? Because I know everyone else is saying this, but I literally was just cheers-ing  (real wine, not sparkling cider crap though...) the beginning of 2016 last week. I swear. Not like everyone else means it when they swear something. My swearing it is a little different/more true. 

Anyways, the point is that January 2016 was not last week. It was 5 months ago. And it is for reals May. And let's move on. 

Currently I am...

celebrating //
The fact that it is May in hell Houston, and it's been so crisp and cool the past few days. Like you don't feel like you want to peel off your skin. Everybody stop whatever you're doing and knock on wood, please and thank you. I got to Houston in mid-May of last year, and I distinctly remember sweating off my you-know-what anytime I even thought about going outside. The past few days when I've walked the dog I've had goosebumps on my you-know-what (jk, on my arms), and I can't believe it. Dear Houston, please keep these temps for at least another week or even half a week.

reading //
Apparently one of the fifty million times I've been on a plane recently I started reading We Were Liars through the plane's free wifi. I got so into it and put a post-it note reminder on my brain to download it and finish it when I got home.

spoiler alert: I never did. And that was two or three months ago. And now that I'm talking about it I remember how badly I want to know what happened. I was reading reviews of the book, and the majority of the reviews were people saying things like, I hate books like this because I'm so smart and can always guess the mystery in any kind of book so I knew what was going to happen the entire time I was reading it. Did I mention I have a big, smart brain?

Well, I have a small, not-smart brain, and I can never guess the outcomes of books so Imma read it and finish it, dangit!

pondering // 
If my dog loves getting five millions and fifteen kisses from me a day or if he hates it? OH WELL, WHO CARES. Good thing dogs can't talk.

sipping //
I never ever ever ever liked coffee. Add in a few more evers plus a few more. But now that I've discovered lattes/iced lattes/iced caramel lattes, and pumping the coffee full of milk and sugary things I am ALL about coffee.

So much that I wish I was sipping a sugary/milky/iced latte right about now. My body also wishes I was sipping one and filling myself with sugar right now. Because who says sugar isn't good for you? And why? Are we sure?...

going //
I'm headed to my college roommate's bachelorette/shower weekend later this month, and I. Cannot. Wait. Is it too early to start talking about how I have nothing to wear that weekend/getting all over Pinterest/not shutting up about the fact that I don't know what to wear that weekend? No? I'm allowed to be basic and do all these things now even though its four weeks away? Cool. Because GUYS, I have absolutely nothing to wear to this shindig. Wink.

What are you up to currently? Filling your body with sugary goodness?

Linking up with Jenna and Anne

when your sister is old, but still young

Yesterday was my sister's twenty-first birthday.

You see, my sister is kind of famous on this here blog. Which really means that she's famous all around the country because this blog = a national staple. Obviously.  

I wrote about her hair (which is beautiful), that one time the Pope hit her (classic), how she steals my clothes (and vice versa), and that one time she turned seventeen (which hello, twenty-one is a way bigger deal) (hashtag wine and stuff). 

You know, there's something about little siblings, am I right? They just always are that: little. When I was going through my Pilates training, apparently I would talk about Ann a lot (I'm obsessed, what can I say?) and refer to her as my little sister. When my fellow trainees finally met my then twenty-year old sister they were really confused. I thought she was your little sister...? She's an adult!

And I was over there like Yeah, yeah whatever. She's little! She was like five yesterday! I swear. Ann, wanna go watch Dragon Tales?! Oh, you make more money than I do right now and you would rather go watch Star Wars? Gotcha. 

how I see Ann vs. how everyone else sees Ann 

Ann turning twenty-one has become quite an emotional time, and if I'm this sentimental with my younger sister then let's go ahead and put me on some kind of medication for when I have my own children. I keep looking at pictures of Young Ann and thinking of all the ridiculous stuff she used to say and do. 

Like telling us the Pope hit her.

Or when she watched Charlie's Angels a few times too many (one of the many perks of having older siblings: PG13 movies), and she told my mother she had to go number one.

Or when she had an imaginary friend named...what for it...Grandma, and would cry whenever my mom would drive by "Grandma's house" and not stop. 

Or when she got so mad at me that she slammed her bedroom door, shutting both of us inside her room. Did I mention she slammed the door so hard that we were stuck in there until my dad broke down the door? (classic) (again).

Or when she would hide her medicine and say, I'll take it if you can find it...

Anyways, back to the post that only my mother, father, brother, sister, and other close family members will care about...

Let's finish with some GIFs that will take us on a journey through the past twenty-one years with Ann-y Boop Doodle. 

Me, the day when my little sister Ann was born and all my dreams came true

My entire family when, as a baby, she had reflux and would just constantly throw up.

My entire family when she was out of the constant throwing up stage of her life...

...but then went right into the constant whining stage of her life. 

Fast forward to present day when we all realized that the whining youngest sibling turned out to be way cooler than any of us. 

And finally, anyone's face and demeanor anytime he or she is around Ann: pure bliss. 

Ann, I'm sorry Mom never took you to your imaginary Grandma's house, but somehow you still managed to turn out okay. 

Happy Day After Your Twenty-First Birthday!!

*Otherwise known as the beginning of the stage of your life in which you are constantly buying me bottles of wine. Thanks.