The latest in fashion at the Vernon household: Dressing up in dishtowels and going out in public. Reminds me that kids can have fun with the most insignificant items. Who needs fancy things!? Maybe I’ll get a Gandhi after all..
March 22, 2012
Sell Out
Well Folks, I am a sell out. It’s official. I folded. bought a pair of skinny jeans. And I actually like them. I think.
I know, I know, this is terrible news for the other thick-thighed out there among me. I felt like we had formed a united front as Skinny Jean Haters. I know, it pains me too. So, with my tail between my legs, I am asking for your forgiveness. Please, will you still be my friend?
Look, I can tell you this: they pretty much look like shit on me. I mean, I try to walk around and own them, but I am a Stranger in a Strange Land with these mo fo’s on. A poser. A wanna be. I am a middle school girl with a bra on for the first time thinking everyone knows.
‘Cause Mama’s got a booty and some thighs.
But please understand, it’s just because I have spent much of the last four years of life pregnant. Styles have changed and I have no idea what the fuck is going on. So now I am at the mercy of my fashionable friends to tell me what the hell to wear. There are moments when I wonder if they are just fucking with me. Like they want me to look like an idiot and are playing with me. But then I shake my head and remember that I don’t have sisters (I jest, I jest) or catty friends like that. I know they are trying to help me. And so I’m all ears.
So, I’ll continue my quest to be current with the styles. But I am a minimalist at heart. Being that these skinny jeans were the first item of clothing I’ve purchased for myself since 2008, I think I’ve got my work cut out for me.
December 12, 2011
Fans
You know what I love the most about Bronco fans? White trash. There is so, so much white trash when it comes to the Bronc’s. And I love them with all my heart. Going to a game brings out my inner trailer hick. She’s totally praised in the stands.
I went to my first game of the season last night and sat up in the nose bleeds in the midst of long-mulleted, burping, sloppy assholes and loved every fucking minute of it. Going to games is the perfect excuse to do everything your Mama told you not to: shove multiple hotdogs down your gullet, drink copious amounts of shitty beer, cuss your ass off, throw peanuts at opposing fans below and get into fist fights. If I believed in Heaven, pretty sure that’s what it’d be.
I went with my Dad:
He made damn sure I knew loads about the game as a wee lad, so it was fun to go with him. Before the big game though, our entire family got pumped and went out for bagels so people could see our level of commitment and dedication (the bagel was just an excuse):
However, like idiots, my Dad and I left with five minutes in the game to go, Broncos down 10-0, never having been to a Tebow game before. We screamed at the radio and cursed ourselves as we drove home wishing we had held tight. The Broncos won in overtime. And though Tebow has a vagina, he continues to pull wins out of some place, so I am warming up to him.
I’ll be honest, having a new baby, I haven’t been the best Bronco fan this year. But last night really opened something up in me. Be it my inner white trash, my childhood obsession with the Broncos, what have you…I’m glad to be back.
December 9, 2011
First Haircut
August 16, 2011
If I were a bumper sticker..
March 22, 2011
It’s On
It’s on. Look out. That neurotic nesting need that kicks into every pregnant woman has hit. I’m ’bout to decorate the shit out of this place.
Last night, I lay awake in bed for hours kicking around colors, patterns, furniture, clothes. For some at bedtime, it’s sheep. For me, it’s polka-dots and plaids. It’s crazy really: insomnia by interior decorating. And it’s not just the babies rooms. It’s like every damn room in the house needs some of my psychosis as far as I can see. I’ve got pregnant goggles on. For real.
This is what New Baby’s room looks like so far:
Too much? Please be honest.
I just got a few things to spice up the place.
I’m kidding. But not totally. Feel free to invite me over if you need any decorating/organizing done in your pad. I will most definitely offer my unwanted opinions. Promise. I seriously can’t help myself.
And say a prayer for Luker tonight..
January 25, 2011
Goal Oriented
I like to think of myself as goal oriented. At least some of the time. Thus I would like to share a goal I’ll be setting for myself this year:
I’d like to attend a rap concert well into my third trimester wearing leopard-print, stretch pants (which don’t worry, I already own), a fitted black tank top, red lipstick and ho shoes.
Wrong print, but she's got the right idea..
Wouldn’t it be fantastic? What an excellent way to showcase our new gem to the world before it busts out.
I would prefer if Kanye could tour his new album and show up in Denver between the months of May and July, but I’ll take anything. Something from the Dirty South would be lovely too. Anything to shake my baby to..in an outfit to make my Baby Daddy proud.
So please, if you hear of any good concerts (real rap, not like Kesha or Eminem), shoot me an email. Because real goals only happen through the gracious help of many others.
November 22, 2010
Lady Killers.
Luker has these pants that he loves with all his might. They are corduroy, pleated and tapered and “the most comfortable pants he owns.” My God. I have worked hard over the past ten years to have them disappear.
But every winter, they sneak their way back into the mix, despite my best attempts.
I remember dating a guy briefly in college who wore similar gems and I was always so embarrassed when I was out with him. That might have been the reason our relationship failed, honestly. Thankfully, I feel stronger about Luke; his pants can’t fend me off. For the most part..
But man, what I would give to burn those mo’ fo’s.
Though there is one great thing about these pants: they are his lady killers. There is nothing like a pair of pleated, tapered pants to let women know: “I am definitely not trying to get laid.”
So in that sense, bless those damn pants.
Luker was on a little retreat for the past few days and he rocked those suckers every day. The moment I saw him pack them, I knew what kind of a weekend it would be.
Maybe I shouldn’t burn them after all..
November 1, 2010
