I noticed the last time I updated this was a year ago. And so much has been going on that I feel like not updating this is a missed opportunity into the deep insights of my life. Like, for example, all of the purchases that I regret and my newly developed interest in Arby’s.
For example, see this pensive contemplation:
And I stand by that statement with the following:
Welcome back, baby!
In an effort to keep the dream of dreamlessness alive and not waste the money that WordPress charges me per year, please be sure to keep an eye on beloved You Life because I have an entire photo album dedicated to leftover chicken fingers I’ve found in my purse along with a recent fascination with Roy Roger’s “fixin’s bar” at rest stops on the way to the Poconos to share with yinz.
Comments Off on Dog underpants and a year of longing
Do you know who always looks great?
Yup. That guy.
Do you know what I also have an affinity for?
Bears (and Bear Ambulances)
What happens when it is the end times at work? The “last days of Rome” days at work? I’ll end up at my office dressed like Where’s Waldo, pulling up that iconic sweater, in front of a statue of bear…that happens to be parked in front of my boss’s office.
There are times when it isn’t enough to celebrate just one holiday at one time. So when Cinco de Mayo and Star Wars day are back to back it just seems more appropriate to meld them together:
Some offices have corporate casual. I think my office does as well. I have chosen to ignore the corporate part of that sentiment and focus on the casual. Sometimes I am so casual in the morning while dressing that I just randomly pick clothes off of the floor. And I end up coming to work in a t-shirt that is an homage to the Disney movie about singing dancing news boys
Oh – you know!
So, I wore my Newsies t-shirt to work. But this shirt not only was emblazoned with “Never fear, Brooklyn is here!” but also completely covered in my blood. From when I fell. On my face. Incredibly hard. The blood clots changed the charming Disney sentiment from one of encouragement to menace.
There are many incredible things that I was tardy to the party for: The Wire, the awesomeness of video games, orgasms. Despite the depression that comes with finding amazing things late in the game, I would be a less of a person had I never discovered them. This brings me to the most important discovery of my adult life.
During the entirety of my youth I was completely unaware of a certain phenomenon sweeping the land. It was called “the boy band.” I, too, had a boy band phase as a child. For this band:
Peter Tork, you’re so fine!
I was under the impression that the Monkees were a contemporary band (during the 90s) and therefore lauded my admiration for them, endlessly watching taped re-runs of the show on our Beta Max. If you were still wondering, yes I did live a very sheltered life.
However, most well adjusted tweens during this time were sacrificing to the alter of a much more popular god:
Those hats, that hair!
I was completely unaware of this group, or any of their songs, until my boyfriend introduced me to this song at the age of twenty-six:
(spoiler alert: Donnie Walhberg eats a baseball at the end of the video!).
This started my obsession, sixteen years late, with New Kids on the Block. I am so bummed that I missed out on the cultural phenomenon that was NKOTB. They are like a bizarre sociology experiment (I love you, Jordan!) that at one point covered the Delfonics.
they also fuck the air in front of a room full of children
My greatest obsession is with how they dress, and like any teenage devotee I decided to try and emulate their style.
or drink late in the night, wearing over-sized overalls and trying to do the dance moves from Step by Step
Bolstered by those late night dancing sessions I decided to Donnie Wahlberg my jeans
Damn.
Step 1 (we can have lots of fun) Take your jeans and attempt acid washing (tub, chlorine, and rubbing). Mine only dyed to a lighter blue
Step 2 (There’s so much we can do!) attempt fraying process. I started off with scissors.
Step 3 (It’s just you and me!): Scissors didn’t work. I then used a cheese grater.
Step 4 (I can give you more!): Cheese grater was not working. I used an exacto knife, which gave me the best results, also time consuming.
Step 5 (don’t you know that the time has arrived!). I gave up and then just cut holes into the jeans and pulled on the strings.
You too can look like a New Kid. Hang tough, ya’ll.
PS: all pictures (with the exception of the ones of me) are the property of the owner. No theft intended. Peace!
There are certain ways that I like to celebrate the end of the work week. My favorite, by far, is drinking Mickey’s grenades with my bearded boyfriend at our favorite bar.
It’s like Mickey’s normal 40oz and St. Patrick’s day had an adorable baby: an adorable, malt liquor, baby.
Then, I like to follow up those grenades with a bottle of white wine, chicken lo mein, and dancing to “Moves like Jagger” in my living room while “That Thing You Do!” plays on the VHS in the background.
It’s boyfriend’s favorite movie, and I love him despite that.
The next morning, I like to get up late and walk to the local 7-ll to get my life’s blood (yellow Gatorade). All of these things are a blissfully normal routine for us, except something strange happened this week that was significantly different.
I had donned my laziest weekend attire and set off for my destination.
a green overcoat with my Power Puff girl pajama pants and flats with flowers on them.
En route I encountered a rowdy group of “Jesus Saves” people. They were nice enough and enthusiastically jolly, so I stopped while they were frantically yelling at me. Had it been angry zealots I would have moved right along, but these people seemed to be a combination of happy and brief. They handed me my pamphlet,
Good question!
and then the amazingly disturbing thing happened. They handed me a blanket…because they thought I was homeless.
An unused blanket that I could make into a tent in which to live.
At first I felt the need to explain: I’m lazy; I live next door to 7-11; I have no reservations about looking like a slob on a Saturday afternoon; I do, in fact, rent a home. But then I thought about how cold my apartment is and how my current blanket is looking a bit rough.
I took the blanket.
So I took the pamphlet and blanket, put my Gatorade in my pocket, and proceeded to Dunkin Donuts where the man behind the counter also thought I was homeless (but in his case he was just frightened; no free salt bagels and coffee there).
As it turns out Jesus did indeed save me a trip to the store and money for a blanket. Thanks Jesus!
One rule to fashion is creating a specific style that expresses what you are feeling. Creative dressing can help to define who you are at a particular moment. The outfit should creatively identify you and express all of those internal emotions that often don’t have a voice. Fashion is so wonderful.
At “You Life,” style is highly valued. All throughout 2011, I chose a uniform that defined where I was in my life at that moment:
Bed. I was in bed for most of 2011
The uniform was pajama pants, my green Bob Ross sweatshirt, and a cat by my side.
What I was expressing was misfortune, laziness, poorness, and laziness.
It is a new year with a new apartment, which inevitably means that new styles have entered into the ‘You Life,’ world. You can be sure that I will update you on it.
You life is not so great 