Look familiar?

I caved.  But the good news is I love my new spring-coloured-boxy-plaid. ALSO, i just bought these Levi’s and I’m totally in love.  It’s so endorphin-enducing when you find a pair of jeans that fits over your whale thighs AND fits your waist AND are comfortable AND are the right colour.

Should I buy another pair so I have two?  Yes, I agree.

Also, should I buy that red floral skirt and that green dress in the link above?  Yes, I agree.  That’s why I already bought them.

While we’re here…

I know.  It’s Thursday.  Get off my back.

My niece and goddaughter, Brooke, turned 3 this weekend.  She is the cutest thing on Earth.  I love when you say “smile” she TRIES SO HARD TO SMILE that her face looks like she’s in pain.

Before the party I spent about 6 hours running errands on foot like a chump.  I’m cooking up a little party for P-Hops next weekend, and there is a lot or prep to be done…

Sunday involved a lotta this:

And this:

And this:

Help you find your snack?

Oh.  Here it is.  I ate it.

From here.

I feel like such a fancy person today.

You all know about my passionate and undying love for Paul Newman, who I personally believe was an example of the perfect man.

I just want to note that Paul Newman will always, always win the perfect man contest because of his political views and activism, his amazing philanthropic efforts, and the fact that, despite being one of the most lusted-after men in history, remained married to Joanne Woodward for 50 years.  Plus.  I mean.  Hey.

HOWEVER, on occasion, Mr. Steve McQueen gets right up in there and muddles around.   Recently some pictures from Time magazine were released from a weekend-long photo shoot of McQueen in 1963.

Not too shabby.

So far I have read the first book in The Hunger Games and watched the movie. I have allowed the powerful current of mob-rule overcome me and am totally into this shit and am going to buy the other two books tonight (like, RUN TO THE BOOK STORE and buy them). Anyways, here are some discoveries I’ve made about myself due to this embarrassingly tween-targeted book:

I have the romantic sensibility of a 13-year old girl

Ok, so, let’s be honest here – although the prospect of being confined to a forested area and permitted - nay, encouraged to smash people on the head with rocks, sounds pretty cool to me, I’m really just a sucker for the love story.  Sigh, it’s true.  You know how you talk to people about books like this and they’re all like “Well, YA, there’s a love story, but there is also a whole lot of other things going on, I mean, it’s not JUST the love story that I care about, it’s like well-written and has commentary about social morés.”?   Well, I’m like “FUCK THIS EXPOSITORY SHIT GET TO THE KISSING.”

YES. OK? Judge me, you snob. I am the most ridiculously hard-core romantic of all time.   And I was totally enamoured with this plot line.  Les sighs grosses.

My personal philosophy as to why The Hunger Games and Twilight have become so successful is because the love story is basically about a boring girl who barely says anything and who is not interesting at all has men lusting after her like hungry dogs. Because it gives all the boring, uninteresting girls in the world (like me) some glimmer of hope that men are interested in boring-ass girls.

Because although Katniss is a good hunter and smart, she is pretty boring. Surly and boring. Don’t freak out – just… come on. She’s boring. She says like 3 words and they’re all boring. But you know what? I’m totally boring, too, so I like her. Because if two wicked-hot guys can fight over boring-ass Katniss, then maybe, wicked-hot guys could potentially fight over me. HA HA HA. Dance, puppets, dance.

Do I even have to talk about Bella in Twilight? Listening to/watching her is analogous to watching fungus grow on the fungus that grows on rotted trees.

I hate 13-year old girls

Speaking of 13-year old boring girls, 13-year old girls are ALL SO BORING. You know how I know? Because yesterday when I went to see The Hunger Games, I was surrounded by 13-year old girls, and I almost dug my eyeballs out with my house keys. Here are the things that 13-year old girls did/said in the theatre:

• When something scary happened they shouted out “THAT IS SCARY! THAT IS SO SCARY!”
• Mouthed out the words to the ENTIRE MOVIE in whispers. This indicates that, within the FOUR DAYS that the movie has been open, they have gone to see it enough times to memorise it.
• Cried REALLY LOUDLY whenever sad music played. Not even when something sad happened. Like there was a shot of leaves blowing in the woods with some sad music in the background and the chick behind me was SOBBING.
• Yelled out the next event in the storyline before it happens. So when it looks like someone is going to die, they shout “BUT HE DOESN’T DIE!” and then all their 13-year old friends would giggle.
• They crowd in the movie theatre bathroom in hoards after the movie and clog up the fucking sink area with their LipSmackers and  TNA hoodies and talk about how much they cried and how hot Gale and Peeta and Ball-licks McGee is. AND I HAVE TO WASH MY HANDS.

I like eating

Dude, the most terrifying parts in the book weren’t when people were trying to kill her, it was when she didn’t have any food. That shit would TEAR ME APART. I had to go eat two whole boxes of Kraft Dinner to satiate my fear-induced hunger.

Yep, things are looking good today.  Weirdo green and black lace-slash-spiderwebs dress is weird enough to make me happy, but conservative enough to wear into work.  I feel like a cross between Betty Draper and Wednesday Adams.  Brown silk bow was my idea.  Just sayin’.

Not sure if you noticed, but it’s possible that I went on a “blazer-buying-spree” last week.  Hello pink blazer.  You are so pink, you warm my heart with pinkitude.