You Can Find Me in St. Louie

Most people hold a certain place in their heart for their hometown. Then there are St. Louisans. Try as they might to leave their beloved Lou, the only ones who have ever successfully made a clean break for it are Jon Hamm, Andy Cohen and Karlie Kloss. Even they have a hard time not donning their proud and true Cardinal red through the streets of New York and L.A. Those of us who have tried to make home elsewhere usually come back for a myriad of reasons. The most overarching being that we have a difficult time making friends with NSLs (non-St. Louisans). Because all we do is talk about St. Louis, and evidently that comes off as "annoying" and "elitist" to those who hail from cities lacking a tall and beautiful silver monument of architectural beauty that was erected in 1963.

The ones who move away only to come back to St. Louis, and I can say this being that I am one, we are the worst type of people in this world. We're the ones who had to get away for the high flying adventure of a bigger, more cosmopolitan city then decide to move back to "be the change we want to see in the city." So we pack up our bags, call up our old crew and demand a welcome back party, not at the trendiest place in town, because it's really not that trendy in comparison to the Chicago spots, but the most dive bar place we could find. St. Louis is grunge chic, not trendy chic. Once back we make a lot of comments like that. It takes over a year and a half, or perhaps eternity (time will tell) to claim full-heartedly that we are here for good. Sentences often start with "I just moved back from Chicago so I'm not sure..." Alternatively, they could also start as the inverse of that precursor by saying "I'm pretty sure after living in Chicago for a few years..." St. Louis replants can never fully disassociate themselves from their fleeting mistress city because that would be in a sense admitting we didn't seize the opportunity when we had it. When in fact we did take it, but came here in the name of goodwill and loyalty. Two things people in this world could use some more of. In St. Louis though we're bred to realize those traits. Especially if you went to a private school (hey!).

In a tad more serious tone, moving back here truly has its hardships.  You come back ready to instill your knowledge and culture on everyone and then you find....things remain the same. Nelson Mandela said it best: "There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered." Of course the city has changed, maybe slightly in some places and more drastically in others. The people who come back here though, in my opinion (and again I say this as one), have the most responsibility on their shoulders. We are the ones who have to constantly remind ourselves why it is we wanted to be here and not where we were, then do those things. Most importantly, we need to lean on those who never saw a reason to leave in the first place. It's a tricky task as "home" often remains exactly as we see it, year after year and even move after move. I can't put into words exactly what it means to me, nor would I be willing to try even if I could as it would not be representative in the least of everyone else who calls this city "home." I will say this though: despite all its pitfalls and mockeries, you won't find a home base get more starry eyed and giddy when they talk about their hometown. I'm pretty sure after living in Chicago for a few years that I can say that with all certainty.

{Image via Pinterest}

The Case for Cell Phone Distraction

Cell phones, and perhaps more so technology in general, get a bad rep.  They cause people to become distracted, disengaged and even disgusting in cases where Tinder has gone bad.  Is this really such a bad thing though?

I'll be the first to admit that patience is not my best virtue.  Nowhere can this be better illustrated  than at the grocery store.  Especially when it comes time to go through the checkout line.  In times of distress (i.e. the guest in front of me arguing with the cashier over a .33 cent price discrepancy), I have taken to pulling out my phone, catching up on my text correspondence and then scrolling through my Instagram feed where usually I can find a good laugh or two.  Some 17 minutes later when the .33 cents and probably some change more, finally is resolved I've all but completely forgotten why I was seething through my teeth with anger at the cheapo from aisle nine (paper products).  In fact, when they offer their insincere "sorry," not for holding up the line but for having to reach over my head to grab their last second gum, batteries and water, I even am able to smile with ease and say "don't worry about it."  Two things I rarely am able to combine.

Which then begs the question: are cell phones making us nicer?

If the receptionist at my doctor's office notorious for 45 minute waits has anything to say about it, the answer is a resounding "yes."

{Image Credit: via Pinterest}

Take Off

Being a loyal Southwest flyer in St. Louis jades you in some ways.  With its own separate terminal, one becomes accustomed to many thing including the shorter security lines, accessible retail fronts and the distinct cattle call of a flight boarding.  For all of its amenities, the anxiety of getting to your designated boarding position is palpable throughout the building.  So it was somewhat of a relief that other airlines wound up offering more budget friendly options for my past few flights (thank you internet of things!).  While I dread having to figure out the logistics of a carry-on to avoid baggage fees, I figured it's nice to explore what else the airline industry has to offer.

As it turns out, I was missing nothing.  Well that's not entirely accurate.  I missed the $25 I had to cough up for every flight because the logistics could never figure themselves out to carry-on my bag.  Finances aside though, I found everything is the same.  Because no matter what carrier you choose to go with there will always be obsessive flyers.  The ones that, even when having a designated seat typed on their ticket, will insist to stalk their boarding gate for Group D to be announced.  The ones that will push and shove you to make sure in no way, whatsoever they will have to engage with you, or anyone else to ensure you have the wrong seat or vice versa.  These people do not discriminate by airport, flight times or exceptional service.  They are simply everywhere and they will not go away.  So it's high time the rest of us accept that piece of knowledge, move on and keep calm at the airport bar until the last boarding call is made.

{Image Credit: This Is Glamorous}

Stay Smart.

The most important thing you can do to improve your street cred amongst peers is staying informed.  These days it gets messy to do so with so many media channels always in your face.  Among a few sources I prefer though, TheSkimm is at the top.  It's concise, spans a variety of of interests and perhaps most importantly keeps things witty.  Start your day, but staying smart.  Sign up here, simply by entering your email here.  Seriously, that's it!

Opining On Opines

It's true, I'm highly educated on my own opinions.  Meaning, I know a lot about what I think.  Often times I will sprinkle these opinions of mine into various conversations.  On the subject of white after Labor Day: if you can spare your outfit from a pumpkin latte spill during school rush hour traffic, by all means go forth.  On the subject of the French: they gave us Chanel and crepes, so they can be as arrogant as they want.  On the subject of "just being friends":  if you have to use the word "just," it will never be.  These are short snippets of much longer dialogue I could go into, should anyone bravely offer up the soapbox.  Most of these subjects are fairly harmless though.  Mindless topics that I can easily find myself becoming very spirited over.  

I have other opinions too.  On things such as politics, religion and relationships.  Not just broad, over-arching opines, but I can get into the nitty gritty subcategories of them.  Though you probably would not want me to because they get boring quickly, especially when referencing various articles read or programs heard where many facts were stated.  These are the type of opinions I vocalize only to audiences I know very well.  Let's face it too, of the people I may "know," I could count on one-maybe two-hands those that I know to a level where I can guage what will or will not offend them.  This rather limited group of people has the sheer pleasure of hearing my more controversial opnions, should such an invitation to converse about them ever come up.  Maybe I come off being of certain beliefs now and again.  In a way, I would hope so to ensure that I have some dimension to myself.  The thing is though, I don't know where we arrived at the point where people now think they intimately know upwards of 500 people, better known as their Facebook friends.  How did they find the time to get to know everyone so quickly?  Also, why do they want to when they aren't getting paid to do so and others are (i.e. professional journalists and elected officials)?

I find it curious, this level of comfort people have to freely vocalize their strict, unwavering opinions.  Mostly because the thing is, nothing is always left or always right.   A building might be on your left going one way down the street, and on the right for the person in the opposite lane.  The building didn't change, and neither of you would be wrong of its position when giving directions from your origin.  Most people are not wrong when giving their opinions.  I know I am not when I tell Chicago Cubs fans that their team will never win a championship so long as they are still in Wrigely Field.  Almost no one's opinion is perfectly right though either, regardless how amplified they may try to make it.  At least that is just my opinion.

{Image Credit: The reluctant father}

The Trick of It Is...Pick Up the Multi-Purpose Cleaner Everyday

I was not born into this world to be domesticated.  That much I am almost sure of.  At the youthful age of 23 though I found myself a homeowner.  Of course only to be a broke renter in the city of Chicago a year later, while also moonlighting as a remote landlord.  Point is I have had to look after residential space, sometimes multiple spaces, for awhile now.  Whether or not I was meant to be a homemaker has made little difference.  Things had to be figured out.  By "things" I of course mean, how to keep areas looking tidy and chic, often on a shoestring budget.  What I am trying to say is that thus far I have not had the luxury of bringing in the reinforcements.  While I refuse to be forced into "liking" something against my will, I can accept giving something its proper respect and attention.   This is what I have done for the act of "cleaning."

 It hasn't been easy by any means.  Every single day it is much easier to lose myself in reading the synopses of every show on my television guide to possibly DVR than it is to scrub down a couple rooms.  Always looking for ways to compartmentalize both emotionally and physically, I recently figured it out.  A little bit everyday goes a long way.  No, I am not talking about throwing pennies into a piggy bank.  I am talking about a couple spritzes from your multi-purpose cleaner.  Everyday, in a new spot.  Maybe you ran out of multi-purpose cleaner the other day thinking one of its many purposes is to clean windows and you kept glossing them over and over and over and over...to no avail.  No problem.  Then today put a couple of loose items away.  Then a couple more items can go away tomorrow if your favorite scent of cleaning solution was out of stock at your local store.  In the world of domestication I have learned this much: the chores never end.  Like ever.   Never ever.  Do something, anything everyday.  Because no one wants to look like that strungout housewife you not only see on infomercials, but in real life while walking your dog.  It's not a becoming look, but a fairly neat house is to the many who aren't looking close enough.

{Image Credit: Method All Purpose Cleaner}

Small Talkin'

Recently I found myself in a conversation with close friends on the subject of "small" talk.  The majority of them were quite skilled in the art of random breezy conversation and are almost always willing to approach anyone, anywhere.  I...am not.  They found this initially surprising seeing as how I love to talk.  I do immensely enjoy it a lot, which is why I tend to be a great conversationalist.  When it comes to trying to land a topic to converse about with an acquaintance or mere stranger though, well that always seems a bit daunting to me.  Where do you start?  The evolution of Jay-Z's career from mere rapper to true visionary?  The sudden over-saturation of whiskey bars in the city?  Perhaps something more simple such as eReader or paper copy?  It's all so superficial, and yet very personal at the same time.  Not to mention the sheer vastness of topics available of which to converse on.  While my friends did not leave me to feel bad about this personal flaw of mine, and even offered up some helpful suggestions, I could not help but still think I must be one of just a few grown adults suffering from this affliciton.  As luck would have it though, a blog post by one of my favorite authors, Gretchen Rubin, entitled "Do You Struggle to Make Conversation? A Menu of Options for Small Talk" turned up in my inbox a couple days later as a recommended read for myself. [Don't worry, the irony is not lost on me.]  Such a post made me a feel a little more validated, and a lot less like an awkward-adult-for-my-age.  All the better still, the advice seemed very...advisable.  At no point on the list did I see anything suggesting to talk about something as pointless as what someone's favorite shot is.  [That's a pointless topic of conversation, because I don't even take shots, and the question then only leads into further provoking, which inevitably ends in me becoming comepletely and utterly annoyed.  So it's more of an argument between two people who don't know each other well at all, rather than it would ever be a conversation.  And you think you have problems...]  With that then I am excited to unveil my new grab bag of small tlk topics as inspired by Rubin's post.

1.  Comment on a topic common at the moment.  Seeing as Target is the place I most spend my time at while out in public, I now will be dropping the line "Have you ever really broken down the economics of these seven year light bulbs versus the two year ones?"

2.  Comment on a topic of general interest.  I think it's safe to say that everyone is a Housewives fan so this is an easy one..."Which housewife do you most identify with?"

3.  Ask a question people can answer as they please.  I mean again, "Which housewife do you most identify with?"

4.  Ask questions that can't be answered with a single word.  So "where did you go to high school" isn't going to fly on this one.  Instead though opting for something along the lines of "where else have you lived since high school?" should give a more elaborate response, and greater insight into what kind of weird this person really is without prying too much.

5.  Ask getting-to-know-you questions.  "Why do you identify as that houswife?" should suffice.

6.  Be slightly inappropriate.  "What the f**k were you doing beforehand?" spices up a quick meet and greet, when the voice pitch is correct.

So who's up to chat sometime soon?

{Image Credit: The Sartorialist}

Have We Hit the Digital Vocab Bubble?

I suppose there comes a point in everyone's life where they are forced to examine their speech.  Taking time to really look at the words they are using everyday and see if it's not possible to improve upon any of them.

Okay, perhaps this does not happen to everyone.  It happened to me though recently while casually ending an email with "Thanks!"  I tend to close many emails in this manner, whether I am intitiating a request or replying to one where something of value had been provided to me.  In this particular email though, of which I could not tell you what the subject matter was even about, something stopped me shortly after "-s!"  The word suddenly felt very impersonal.  Something you would say to a  clerk when they giving you change back, maybe.  As a digital signoff to someone you cowork with though?  It started to take on the same feel as a word you say over and over until it suddenly loses all meaning.  Maybe because it had.

The email was changed to a full "Thank you!" and I'm sure not a darn bit of notice was paid to it either way.  This is a good thing because it means people are possibly using their extra neuro energy on ways to make peace in the Middle East, rather than ponder the variation of vocabulary.  

Nevertheless, this small snapshot of time got me to thinking about the depreciation of value seen in other words due to this digital age.  The qualitative analysis was astounding.

"Ah": Formerly used as an intellectual placeholder, is now just confused for being an actual exclamation of enthusiasm or a bored response to your mundane text about the Polar Vortex.

"Ha" vs. "Haha" vs. "Hahaha" vs. "Hahaha!":  Is a rating system for how funny your comments are.

"Okay"-->"Ok"-->"K": The evolution of annoyance someone has with either you, the conversation, or the platform for which the conversation is taking place.

"Omg.": If said as its own sentence, is a good indication you should not have told that person whatever piece of information you leaked to them.  They are clearly not mature enough for the context of the situation on many levels.
"I Can't":  ...was there a subject to that predicate?

"Yikes": Is a tell-tale sign the dialogue is about silly drama.

"I'm confused...":  Often given as a response because no one knows what anyone else is talking about anymore.

{Image Credit: The Sartorialist}

Trust Does Breed Magic

Recently I listened to Tina Roth Eisenberg's Do lecture on "Trust Breeds Magic."  It was an inspiring talk for any creative or entrepreneur and provoked me to do some thinking.  In typical fashion my busy and wandering mind took me beyond the obvious of career objectives.  It took me to my habits.  You see I trust most of what I do on a day-to-day basis: my beauty & hygiene routine, the food I pick out for my meals and most importantly what I wear.  I trust my sense of style.  That's not to say that I never step out to places like Target in my house leggings, because I do.  However, I trust that 77% of the other customers walking through there are in theirs too, or worse off actual pajama pants.  Moreover, I spend a very small fraction of my life out in said house leggings and other homewear.  In fact they are only to be utilized off-premise when doing "home" related things.  The remaining time I spend outside of my house I am in formalized yoga and athletic wear for the gym, business casual for the workplace, and classic eccentric wear for where ever my social calendar takes me.  Now those are broad terms, and I am not so arrogant to assume that certain brands must pertain to any one category.  I am only arrogrant enough in this realm to say that a diversified portfolio of trusted colors, patterns and tailoring more often than not yield...well, magic.  Anna Wintour astutely observed in the documentary The September Issue that most people fear fashion.   Imagine if this type of fear did not exist in the world?  A-lines would be honored, florals would blossom and people would feel and thus be pretty in pink.  It sounds lovely, does it not?  It's all so easy too if we just trust.  Love can happen at first sight, and it can happen when you least expect it, in the simplest of settings at Banana Republic upon spotting a hot pink peplum skirt on sale.  When it hits you, it will be magical.

{Image via This Is Glamorous}

Let's Kick It

New Year's is the type of holiday that Type-A folks live for.  New Year's Eve, not so much.  Too much fretting over the next morning hangover preventing productivity on a holiday.  Not to mention the number crunching of figuring out the true value of packaged bar deals  It's all just such a nightmare.  Back to New Year's Day though.  That's a holiday neurotics such as myself can get on board with.  Making new to-do lists, consolidating Excel spreadsheets, and taking inventory of life's small details then turning them into actionable items.  This is what the holidays and good cheer are made of.  I've been making resolutions for years now and while many have worked out, of course others have not.  You can't let a few habits that fade away though discourage you from making new lists.   That would be quitting.  So here's to 2014, a year sure to hold a shoebox full of bullet points.

• Keep up on my correspondance.  The written kind that is.  Like snail mail.
• Watch the entire existing Downton Abbey series.  Because I'm sick of people telling me they know me better than me.
• Only use vocabulary I really really like in my everyday rhetoric.
• Take more pictures, and get better angles.  Perhaps obtuse ones.
• Get in a water drinking routine.  [One can make a routine out of anything.]
• Have more dance parties.
• Always make sure to say "hello."  Because it's hella obnoxious when others' don't.
• Send the email today, not tomorrow afternoon.
• Make just as many plans, if not more while being the most flexible of the bunch.  After all, life was meant to be at least somewhat ironic.

{Image Credit: Helmut Newton via This Is Glamorous}

Puppy Love

 

I wasn't planning on becoming a mom.  One day it just sort of happened.  When you see the pup that's meant to be yours, it's all very sudden.

As it turns out, becoming a mother (be it to dog or human) is exactly how they say it is: challenging.  Rosie though isn't a difficult puppy; it's just difficult to raise a puppy.  Especially whilst juggling a full-time job.  I worry about her...a lot.  So my daily agenda has experienced some changes as a result.  Lunches have turned into short strolls up and down my block, which has resulted in being on a first-name basis with the septagenarions of the neighborhood.  I timed to the minute the two routes leading back home to see which one would get me to "Rosie's house" (her crate) the quickest.  Not to mention the numerous last glasses of wine I've sacrificed in order to ensure getting home in a timely manner so I didn't have to return to whimpers.

One day when I was feeling an inadequate parent for not being able to spend enough time at home to master "sit," I subsequently thought "Thank God."  I am getting this 9-5 working mother guilt behavior, coupled with first-child over-bearing parental guidance over with now.  It's not that I wish Rosie a burdensome adolescence  (over-bearing parental guidance tendency).  I just feel it's less stressful to deal with the other dog-walking moms at the park talking behind my back than it is the carpool moms of human beings (9-5 working mother guilt tendency).

Beyond just maturing past playground gossip though I am learning to give my undivided attention to playtime with squeaky toys.  To not sweat the small things like chewed up leggings.  And maybe most importantly to let someone go ahead of me for the bathroom.  At the end of the day all any of us parents are really looking for are those special moments when they curl up on your lap on a cold winter night.  Right before they abruptly jump up and start splashing around their water bowl all over the kitchen.  How long until they graduate from obedience school?

DMILF doesn't have the same ring to it

A friend (it was Suzanne) recently chided (congratulated?) me on my new status as a "stay at home dog mom." A little more than a month after adopting our puppy and about three weeks since I quit my part-time gig, it's both ridiculous and accurate.

With ample free time on my hands and an adorable new fixation to fill it, things have gotten a little weird. I would, and have, referred to my dog and I as being "close."

 In no particular order, here are some of the stranger things I've done for/to my pup in the name of good parenting:

• Felt a totally strange sense of swelling pride when anyone refers to my dog as "handsome," "good-looking" or "studly," as if my own genetic material is to thank. (This happens all the time, by the way. He's a canine Ryan Gosling.) *BEAMS*
• As a person who despises baby talk of any kind, whether between parent and child, couples, or ESPECIALLY when perpetrated by those people who inexplicably believe others find it attractive when they speak like they're only partially developed . . . I hate that I talk to my dog in a mixture of gibberish and high-pitched coos of admiration. I make myself cringe. I cannot stop.
• Once, at a park, Gibbs got one of his raging boners of excitement and in the course of running around covered his red rocket with grass and other debris. Not understanding (and I still do NOT get this) what would happen to the muck once it receded back into his body — like, where does it go? That cannot be good for him — I looked around and furtively wiped his doggie dick off with my sleeve. I am confident that no one saw me only because I have yet to be reported for bestiality.
• We have a series of inside jokes and it is definitely possible that only I find them funny. For example, I often speak to my dog in private in an Irish accent (he has almost certainly never been to Ireland) and have given him several additional nicknames — Mr. Wiggles, Little Man, Boobie (???) — that probably only confuse him but which I consider to be special terms of endearment. 

But although I am self-aware enough to see and acknowledge the crazy, if this is wrong, I don't want to be right:

EnLISTed

Last week I attempted to write a rebuttal to my dear friend Caroline's attack on the GSElevator's "How To Be A F%#king Man" post.  It fell way short of anything I would consider readable.  Which I suppose is telling in some ways.  I fall under the category of twentysomething girls who have no idea what they are looking for in a guy from one day to the next.  We live in a world where a "contemporary man" can be easily muddled with an "arrogant a$$hole."  Or are they really the same?  According to Caroline, yes.  When I first read GSElevator's post, which by the way made its way to CNBC and Business Insider (a daily go-to of mine) I was sold hook, line and sinker.  The post is written in such a manner that certain key points stick out more than others, especially to girls who pride themselves on "standards."  It seemed as though Cary Grant himself dictated phrases such as "you will regret your tattoos," "when in doubt, kiss the girl," and "measure yourself only against your previous self" to some young protege.  They were enough to overlook the tips like "own a handgun" and "do 50 push-ups, sit-ups, and dips before you shower each morning."  

If I'm being honest I agree with 63% of this list.  Of the remaining 37%, 15% comes from disagreements with the actual "advice," while the other 22% comes from giving the notion that such a man, or better yet-population of men-even exists.  I know men who brunch and roll up their ties in a designated tie drawer.  I also know men who take the time to understand ERAs and become regulars at more than one bar.  These are not the same type of man.  The 15% of points I inherently disagree with is able to be overlooked.  You should always give any person that much variance for benefit of the doubt.  

The 22% is the problem that twentysomethings-not just girls, but the whole demographic-faces: long checklists.  A few years ago, fresh off graduating from college, mine and Caroline's friend Julie and I took a road trip to Chicago for St. Patrick's Day.  At the time Julie was seriously dating her now-husband, Ross and the picture of a life together looked very clear.  While mine was as fuzzy as our weekend there.  Though I did not think of it as such.  On the way home Julie and I discussed our "futures."   Hers included the basics: someone she enjoyed bringing to family parties, a partner for DIY home projects, and a personal comedian-even if it was sometimes at the expense of his Star Trek anthology.  Mine included all of the above (though I couldn't really see a Star Trek trilogy finding a place amongst my Sex and the City collection) with the additions of being financially savvy (wanting and financing multiple homes), being cultured (traveling to a new foreign country and new U.S. city every year), and owning a boat.  OWNING A BOAT.  I'm sure I don't have to tell any of you, but that's not even a quality.  These were just a few items among a laundry list I had in my head, but did not have the time to vocalize all during our trip home.  Again-this was a few years ago, and I am [not-so] proud to admit that it did not take long for me to realize such things were just...well, all the things you are thinking.  If I was making a list though, why not throw those on there?

Lists, outlines, bullet points-whatever your preference-are one of today's greatest forces of evil.  People exist.  Lists do not.  I cannot even purchase a full grocery list at the treasure trove that is Trader Joe's.  So how is a person-inherently born with faults-supposed to embody one?

When I originally drafted and [irresponsibly] posted this response last week I conceded to Caroline.  If it's possible to take that back, I'd like to call it a draw.  While I agree that the "Contemporary Man" seems more fictional than heroic, I find it at the very least aspirational.  After all, guys should be ambitious enough to read a piece even more lofty than one that could be found in The Economist.  However, I'll always take a guy who prefers his whiskey over his concern for sartorial togetherness.  And I think that a girl who prefers otherwise should be entitled to her gem.  Both, I am quite sure, could turn out to be fine, nice men living in these contemporary of times.

On GSElevator and the Modern Man

When this article came out — a collaboration between the (heretofore assumedly satirical) @GSElevator and CNBC's John Carney — Suz and I responded disparately in a manner that quite surprised us both.

She found much of the advice — for example "always carry cash" and "measure yourself only against your previous self"— helpful to our contemporary dating pool, while I found the article in sum, with such directives as "hookers aren’t cool, but remember, the free ones are a lot more expensive," and "time is too short to do your own laundry," to be completely maddening.

"Not only do I want NOTHING to do with the 'man' who fulfills this list, I hope he's drafted into active combat," I griped to the writers on Twitter. (They didn't respond, presumably because I wasn't leaning against a bar wishing someone would approach and split the dessert they're too manly to eat but don't want to share.) "No laundry? Only host if someone else cleans it up? I'd prefer my men not coddled into impotence, but thanks anyway."

Six weeks later, I'm still seething at a steady simmer and Suz is still a little turned on. But equally as passionate as our disagreement on the subject is our shared adoration for one thoroughly modern male specimen: Liev Schreiber. While Suzanne argues that Liev is the debonair personification of such advice, I argue that despite some side effects of an inherently vain profession, he is a (pre-earring) Harrison Ford-style male movie star who would be appalled at the wastes of space that heed it.

We decided on a good old-fashioned debate: Is Liev Schreiber maple syrup or artificial sweetener? Bourbon or flavored vodka? Creating something out of nothing or just moving shit around?

I worked out the kinks of the argument as follows; we'll need y'all to weigh in:

Black coffee and mowing your own lawn:
- He's an unabashed family man
Exhibits A, B, C. 

- He doesn't mind looking uncool
It takes a certain confidence to pull this off.

- He sports unshaped facial hair
A beard shouldn't require tools; that defeats the purpose. 

- He doesn't just go for the money
Liev is a respected stage actor with a Tony award in addition to blockbuster cred.

- He knows how to rough it
One look at this New Yorker profile and you know this man wouldn't shy away from some rough-and-tumble wilderness or from trying something new.

Hair that can't accommodate a baseball cap and cuticle cream: 
-He goes by his middle name
Liev's actual name is Isaac, a perfectly normal name his parents obviously preferred but he chose to forgo.

I'll allow it.

Happy {Inspirational} Weekend!

In lieu of a silly song to kickoff the weekend, here are some truly inspirational words from some genuinely lovely people.  They are great reminders of the meaningful impact the human spirit holds.  Everyone go out and do something great this weekend!

Liev Schreiber or The Contemporary Man

Recently, an op-ed was released on Business Insider in conjunction with CNBC on what makes a real man in today's world.  It's rare that Caroline and I disagree on subjects that tend to be polarizing (Liev Schreiber being one we emphatically agree "yes" on).  In fact, I'm not sure it's ever happened.  However, when this was released...well we found we don't always sit on the same wavelength.  Take a read, even if for the third or fourth time, and formulate your thoughts.  In the coming days Caroline and I will each further divulge on our personal soapboxed in regards to the matter.  Sit tight!

{Image Credit: People}

Happy {Sister Sister} Weekend!

Happy weekend filled with bridal dress shopping, Birthdays and general merriment!

October 3rd

The day the Internet explodes.  An actual day of a Mean Girls reference and #tbt.  (If you live in St. Louis this may ring even more true, as today is Game One of Cardinals post-season baseball).

Pardon, while I disconnect.




...Okay, actually that wasn't a good idea.  Surfers (of the Internt nature) beware though.

Back to Basics

Whenever I consider makeshifting my makeup routine or consuming an "adult" beverage that comes in a styrofoam cup because it worked in college, all I need to do is remind myself of the above.

{Text via A Cup of Jo}

Happy {CoMo} Weekend!

This song puts into words all the emotions I felt after leaving Columbia some four years ago (yikes!).  Laugh if you want, but Harry Styles and his gang sing it like it is.  I have so much excitement for the weekend ahead, being back at the happiest place on Earth that it's almost too much.  Please keep me in your thoughts as Monday is sure to be a rough road.

M-I-Z!