hot and muggy

I very rarely dress for the weather. Today I went to see my advisor at nine in the morning. Jeans, t-shirt, flip flops. By the time I reached her office, I was quite sweaty. Pretty darn disgusting. Shoulda worn gym shorts. I think the people on the elevator with me were a little grossed out. Whatever. Hopefully I won't see them again.

What I'm really trying to say is, Summer, as much as I love you, me and heat/humidity just don't mix. I need me some fall weather. Sweatshirts and jeans. That's all I want. And maybe a cozy knit sweater. And a breeze. Some leaves falling wouldn't hurt either.

Anyway, aren't these earrings pretty?

{kate spade}

I wouldn't mind wearing them with this hairstyle. Now I just need to learn how to braid. And then talently (not a word?) make it look messy.
{via A Cup of Jo}

Doppelganger

Doppelgangers are fun. My roommate Ann and I can never agree on who we think people look like. At a wedding this past weekend, she insisted that the best man looked like Frank from The Bachelorette and I am 98% positive he is more or less Rupert Grint's twin. You'd agree with me. She's crazy. I mean the best man had reddish hair and is Scottish.

Anyway, I've had a few doppelgangers thrown at me throughout the years. Growing up I got Melissa Joan Hart quite a bit. When I got glasses I became Lisa Loeb according to my brother.

{I don't know that I've actually ever looked like her, but the ice cream in hand seems pretty dead on. Image via}

But, there is one person who people can agree I look like. It started at a young age when I was a pink ball of chub.

Chris Farley.

Yes.

That is my doppleganger.

And ya know what?

I couldn't be prouder.

{Separated at birth}

{Image via}

Good Morning, Juno

I just really like this song.

Calming.

{The Naked Sumos}

a wee bit more head tilt please

I recently had a photo shoot with my friend Leslie for my photography class. More or less, it went like this...

Oh, and here are some of the pictures. The theme was "Trapped". Kind of a lonely 50s housewife thing-a-ma-jig.

Cat Stevens

I'm off to St. Paul, Minnesota for a wedding in approximately 43 minutes! Congratulations Paul and Michaela!!! I can't wait to see the kilts. (Paul's Scottish)

So, in keeping with the weekend of love, here's a love song.

Gush, gush, gush, long sigh.

How can I tell you that I love you, I love you

but I can't think of right words to say

I long to tell you that I'm always thinking of you

I'm always thinking of you, but my words

just blow away, just blow away

It always ends up to one thing, honey

and I can't think of right words to say

Wherever I am girl, I'm always walking with you

I'm always walking with you, but I look and you're not there

Whoever I'm with, I'm always, always talking to you

I'm always talking to you, and I'm sad that

you can't hear, sad that you can't hear

It always ends up to one thing, honey,

when I look and you're not there

I need to know you, need to feel my arms around you

feel my arms surround you, like a sea around a shore

and -- each night and day I pray, in hope

that I might find you, in hope that I might

find you, because heart's can do no more

It always ends up to one thing honey, still I kneel upon the floor

How can I tell you that I love you, I love you

but I can't think of right words to say

I long to tell you that I'm always thinking of you

I'm always thinking of you....

It always ends up to one thing honey

and I can't think of right words to say

{I like this cover too}

listening

{via}

Upon reading the following passage from Special Topics in Calamity Physics while on vacation in Florida, I had a dire urge to tap the woman a few lawn chairs away from me and say, "Get a load of this." But, I quickly realized that this flabby armed 85-year-old was not going to give two hoots about anything I said. That, and the fact that I myself am not too fond of when others forcibly read excerpts from books to me. With that said, I am going to be a hypocrite. I highly urge you to read the following passage. It'll only take a minute. After reading it 5 times now, all I can say is,

"Holy cow, that is utterly beautiful."

"Obviously, being able to simply listen was a skill supremely underestimated in the Western world. As Dad was fond of pointing out, in America, apart from those who won the lottery, generally all Winners were in possession of a strident voice, which was successfully used to overpower the thrum of all the competing voices, thereby producing a country that was insanely loud, so loud, most of the time no actual meaning cold be discerned -- only 'nationwide white noise.' And thus when you met someone who listened, someone content to do nothing but listen, so overwhelming was the difference, you had the startling and quite lonely epiphany that everyone else, every person you'd encountered since the day you were born who'd supposedly listened, had not really been listening to you at all. THey'd been subtly checking out their own reflection in the glass bureau a little to the west of your head, thinking what they had to do later that evening, or deciding that next, as soon as you shut up, they were going to tell that classic story about their bout of Bangladeshi beachside dysentery, thereby showcasing how worldly, how wild (not to mention how utterly enviable) a human being they were."

- page 98

excuse me, sir, is that even a word?

I just had way too much fun watching old Spelling Bee clips. If I were one of these kids, there is no way I'd make it through without passing out at least once.

Ron Harper

"Slam Dunk" by Clifford Oto

The Bulls' Ron Harper was my favorite basketball player growing up. I mean, of course I loved MJ, but there was something about Harper that made me always pick him when my brother and I played one-on-one on our driveway.

He has a stutter, and as a child it was more severe. I read this interview of him online, and I smiled when I saw this...

"Since I was 5 years old, kids been making fun of me. But then they go out to the court for recess and it’s like, ‘I want Harp on my team, I want Harp on my team.’ Nuh-uh. I ain’t playing with you."

You tell them bullies off, Ron.

Florida and Airplanes

Before embarking on our trip to the Sunshine State, I asked my dad, "Are you ready for Flo Rida?" (pronounced Flow Rider). He looked at me confusedly and said, "Who's that?" I just shook my head and walked away. Adults today. You can't talk jive with them.

{The pool all to myself}

{Me and Kevin}
{Tie Dye Sky}

{Breakfast and a good book on the balcony}
{Home away from home}

{Ma and Pa}

The highlight of my trip might have come in the airport. I was walking back from Uno's with a piece of pizza and headed to my gate. I look up from putting change in my purse and directly in front of me about five feet away is Richard Kind. For a good seven seconds I kind of just stared at the man and racked my brain for where I knew him from. He kept walking but kept shifty eyes on me because he could tell my mind was doing cartwheels trying to figure out who he was. When I got back to my seat I relayed that I had just seen a celebrity. My dad goes, "Yeah. Richard Kind. Funny guy. He was in the Curb Your Enthusiasm episode we watched two days ago."

Well this news made me feel pretty stupid and basically made me almost pee my pants and want to tackle the guy and throw him compliments until the cows came home.

Instead I just let him be.

{Richard Kind in A Serious Man}