full closet, empty brain

Remember these days? It's okay, I barely do either. I've been thinking and overthinking about how you can do Wardrobe Remix, or even a fashion blog, tastefully. How can it ever be classy to spend a good chunk of time taking photos of yourself, putting them on the internet, and waiting for applause(or boos and hisses, depending on your outfit). The Cherry Blossom Girl does it. So does Ringo. But alas, I neither live in Paris with the world's most magnificent wardrobe nor do I live in New York and possess mad self-timer skillz with the camera. OH WELL. I've just been getting a lot more excited about clothes lately (I think it's the opportunity to conceal these pasty stems in tights! oh, and boots, I forgot about boots), and am hoping to continue it. I sometimes think that if my second post ever on Wardrobe Remix (two years ago, mind you) got selected by Painfully Hip, maybe I should have kept it up. My closet is so full, begging to be worn. It's actually so full I've had to get rid of several things, but it's probably for the best since the black halter my boobs fall out of or a thrift-store dress 13 sizes too big didn't really belong in there anyway.
So I've been thinking about clothes. Not school. Especially since I figured out I really am going to graduate in December. I wanna be through! I'm about to turn in the worst nonprofit paper ever...but hopefully the outfit I send it off in will be great!
Also, I had a stomach bug come visit from 5 a.m. Sunday morning til yesterday afternoon. So I've been thinking about that too. And eating things other than crackers and applesauce.

my little lady and me

Today is Betsy and I's first anniversary. Who knew I'd ever end up with a cat(much less two)? I always hated/feared them as a child, after getting a chunk taken out of my hand by one at about 5 years old. But when I worked at the Humane Society, Betsy's white mittens, pretty face and swinging belly caught my eye. Her name was Samantha, but I had to change that. For one, that is an absurd name for a cat, and two, I just couldn't have both my pets named after Sex and the City characters(I already had Charlotte). In August 2007, she and one of her kittens(SLUT) had been unceremoniously dumped on the Humane Society's doorstep. And on October 16, 2008, I took her home, where she remains the head huntress and frosty bitch of the household. I don't know how her life started, but I do know how it'll end: diabetes. Just kidding. Seriously, though, WHAT a porker. But I love her and her chubby tabby ways (except for peeing in laundry baskets), and I hope she'll be warming my feet in bed for 15 years to come.
Off to bed: tomorrow we venture to Murfreesboro, most likely my final visit ever.

Hüsker Dü-dledoo

In my girlfriend-ly duties over the course of the past year and three months, I have learned far more than most other girls about Hüsker Dü (it helps when your boyfriend is writing a book about them). But I've realized that most of my friends are not very familiar with this trio of odd-looking dudes from Minneapolis (my version of their biography). So here is the hilariously bad mish-mash of a video for one of their most famous songs, as a starter. Not really sure I'm doing them justice, but that's all I have right now, I'm afraid!

Also, one of the borderline servile friendly waiters at Indian Palace gave me a free mango lassi! Made my day.