I Am ThisClose to Wearing a House Coat.

.Just a few of the things I learned this week:

  • I no longer have any fashion sense whatsoever. I have 1,000,000 black tank tops and 2,000,000 tee-shirts. I'm not sure where it went, but I realized I have nothing "New York" appropriate, as I did when I once lived there, and I scoured 5 stores searching for something "hip" and I realized I no longer know what that means.
  • Those cute vesty sleeveless sweater thingies that are everywhere? They look horrendous on me. But they're so cute on the hanger!! And trust me, I've tried them. In every color and shape, because I refused to give up the dream. I tried on long ones, sleeveless ones, short ones, stripey ones, solid ones, the longer-in-the-front-shorter-in-the-back ones, shorter-in-the-front-longer-in-the-back ones, but nope. Nothing. Not now, not ever.
  • I used to wonder where people's fashion sense went and when the loss actually occurred because eventually a man will end up in bright pink plaid pants a woman will end up in a housecoat and now I see that I'm headed straight for it. I'm thisclose. 
  • Unrelated: don't watch Cougartown while checking in for your flight. You may accidentally check "yes" when it asks you if you're carrying hazardous materials onboard and the website will log you out and shame you and you'll have to start over.
  • I am completely incapable of going to a pecan farm, buying two boxes of sugary pralined ones and not eating half of one of the containers in one sitting.
  • If you have a motherly instinct about anything, anything at all, don't ignore it. You're right.
  • I cannot take a picture of food. Well, physically I can. But it almost never turns out editble. I see lots of pretty food pictures on yummy foodie blogs and they have a gift for cooking and taking pictures of their delectibles. I have the gift of making food look like vomit.
  • After being at home for 4 years with the kids, I still have a pretty ok resume and people still want me. It makes a girl feel good to be wanted.
  • My 2 year old is in a "doesn't travel well" phase. The first leg of a roadtrip is fine, the second half is pure hell um, not fine. We have one roadtrip down, two left to go and mama might need a Xanax.
  • You can make a "time out" spot anywhere. And that includes on a curb outside a gas station in Georgia.
  • And it works, too.
  • Oh, and actually preparing for a roadtrip instead of expecting your (and by "your" I mean, my) 2 year old to entertain himself for 8 hours might help too. BIG lesson learned.
Well that's it, I am off to New York City for the weekend to see friends and family and go to my cousin's wedding. Squee! I will not lose my identification. I will not lose my identification. I will not lose my identification.

(Like I did the night before I left for San Diego for the half-marathon.)

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