I am unsure who was more pitifully clad on Sunday. The tree, which remained unadorned, or J.D. in his many layers. Personally, I like to think he is just ahead of the curve for the return of flannel and Doc Martens.
So a month has passed since I last touched base. In that time, my kid officially turned four. I maintained my 15ish pound weight-loss. Feared I might have lost one of my oldest friends to our lives moving in separate ways. Coordinated the Homecoming events at work. Recovered from coordinating the Homecoming events at work. Got incredibly irritated with some house guests. Finished two quilt squares under the tutelage of <a href = “http://www.etsy.com/people/trelilli. And finally bought tickets to head to Brooklyn for a wedding.
Reading that just makes me want a drink and a nap.
Here’s a interesting wrinkle brought up by that last item on the list. During the last three-four years, I haven’t exactly bought a slew of clothes. In fact, I’ve only bought what I really had to buy. This has been good on the check book but not so good on my options for anything NOT work related. And so now, I find I have a wedding and absolutely nothing to wear to it!!! The only things I have that are even remotely appropriate are now too big AND not at all garments for an early winter wedding in Brooklyn, NY. And, truthfully, I have found a number of lovely things I would like to order, but I really don’t want to drop 100-150$ on an outfit in a size I hope to not be for very long.
Anyone got something I can just borrow? Size 16. 29ish inch inseam. A little baby chub left on the belly. Not especially busty. I’ll just wait. Shall I?
I took part of my afternoon and headed over to my dad’s to retrieve some of the stuff we stored there when we decided to put the house on the market. Today I was mostly focused on clothes. I need to acquire some new ones soon and really just couldn’t remember what I took over there versus what wore out last year versus what I gave away in the blurry first year of parenthood.
Good news, the punk-rock-meets-parochial-length skirt fits. yipeee! Bad news…is there any bad news? Oh! This isn’t bad news, exactly, but vaguely problematic news. I have a lot of sweat shirts. I don’t know why or how when I remember distinctly a couple of years ago being down to two and asking for one. I think they all got together and bred. The problem is that I really don’t have anywhere to store all of their offspring.
And this really is the crux of the matter. Storage. This house isn’t the most limited storage house I’ve ever lived in. The house I grew up in had one closet. Yes. I said ONE CLOSET. IN THE ENTIRE HOUSE. But I liked having my own large closet in our old town house. It was awesome. Now I have to share with J.D. and it’s just ridiculously small. Also, you know, boy cooties. AND, bonus, I can’t even think about a fancy organizer doohicky b/c they don’t seem to understand that one of the people using this closet is 6’2″ and has shirts that are as long as some other people’s dresses.