And it was all...yellow.

Note to self: the entryway light in our apartment gives off an eerie, yellow glow. As a result, it distorts the entire color scheme of an outfit. I feel like I'm sporting sepia tones, but those pants and that scarf are actually navy, not black. Do not be deceived. Should I have even posted this outfit? I don't know. But, damnit, I loved it so much in real life that I couldn't help but subject you to the terrible picture quality. 

When I was little and my mom picked me up at friends' houses, I always heard her before I saw her. Did she call for me in the typical, "Danielle, get your butt ready to go" sort of way? No. Without fail, someone always said something funny just as she entered the house, and she laughed boisterously and infectiously, serving as a pleasant alarm that it was time to wrap up playtime. 

Now that I'm older, my laugh might rival hers in loudness. Teachers whose classrooms are in the same wing as mine frequently comment on my laugh that carries. One teacher said her favorite part about my move to her neck of the woods is my laugh. The teacher next door? She's taken to saying, "Ohhh, that Ms. Wo, she's laughing again." I made a pact with myself in my first few years of teaching that I would laugh every day. Something that would ordinarily frustrate me? Laugh at it. The mantra stuck, and I haven't stopped laughing (sometimes maniacally). Teenagers are witty, and ridiculous, and vibrant, and how can anyone expect me to bottle up the laughter? 

After all, it's laughter that makes the world go 'round. Laughter and farts. Farts definitely make the world go 'round. I think, one day, methane will be the hottest renewable energy. (After all, it already classifies as one. People will just respect the toot a whole lot more.) Those tuner cars that sound like farts in a can? Soon enough, there will actually be farts in their cans that'll make 'em putt putt down the road. And, if you're not at least chuckling at this point in your reading, then I have no idea why you visit me here. You should know by now that I'm a self-proclaimed weirdo and have no shame. 

The Outfit:

Cardigan: Old Navy (sparkly sleeves? yes, please.)

Blouse: New York & Company

Pants: The Limited (exact stretch straight leg)

Shoes: Nine West (old)

Scarf: Crocheted by my Momma! (You want one, don't you?)

I'm so hoooooood.

Okay, not really.

But, I feel a little hood in my bandana. 

In fact, Jeff came home and asked me whether I was a Blood or Crypt. 

This same husband, of course, commented on my bandana about five times in two hours. Apparently, he wholly approves of my wardrobe addition. I'll tell you a secret: I've had this bandana (in black, pink, red, yellow, and green--I had a bandana phase back in the day) for YEARS, but I never knew how to wear them until now. I'm so glad I didn't toss any of them since Jeff digs the look. Who knew?

The Look:

Top: The Limited (last year)

Pants: Target, I think?

Flats: Nine West via Marshall's (they're my something metallic for the link up)

Earrings: NY & Co.

I'm not sure where Mom bought her shorts or sandals, but I know the shirt is from Banana Republic outlet. (We were together when she bought it!)

The Details:

Occasion: errands with Momma dukes and casual dinner with Mom and Jeff

Where: indoors (definitely needed a sweater in BJ's)

When: 3-10

Comfort Rating: 8 (my feet aren't used to flats right now, so my pinky toes hurt by 10. I also forgot a belt, which meant I was hiking up my pants.) 

Restyling Option: When we went to dinner, I threw on a long cardigan for some warmth. To make the look edgier and more "night out" appropriate, I'd add a leather jacket and some heels (maybe a pair with some color.) I could tuck the front and add a colorful belt. For a fun day look, I could knot the shirt and wear it with a maxi skirt.

Pinspiration:

source

(source)

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(Note: I would not wear leggings as shown. I'd wear my black normal PANTS.)

Pep Talk & an $8 dress

It's that time of year again. No, it's not a jolly 'oliday with Mary. (I might be the only one on the inside of that joke.) It's the end of the school year. The end of the school year brings with it bucket loads of stress for so many people. I find myself wanting to throat punch students who obnoxiously whine (is there any other kind?) because they have to study since they didn't pay attention the first fifty times their teachers covered the material that will now end up on their exams. Teachers are spread thin with exam creation, make-up work from students who should've had better sense to complete it sooner, frantic, my-kid-has-to-earn-an-A parents, and all other sorts of nonsense. I used to be type A, but I've taught myself to just say, "whatever. It'll get done." I've probably tacked ten years back onto my life by adopting this mindset. The truth is that I know that I won't accomplish things any quicker by stressing about them. In fact, I'm the kind of person who's paralyzed by stress. (I'm aware that some of you are fueled by it, and I sure do feel sorry for you.) If I feel overwhelmed, I shut down. To avoid this tragic outcome, I take a few deep breaths and remind myself, "It's cool. It'll get done, Danielle. You always get it done." Good pep talk, self. 

I think we so desperately want to please everyone--our bosses, our kids, our students, our clients, our spouses, our parents, our friends, our whatever--that we leave nearly no room for ourselves. When that happens, almost no one gets the best of who we can be. We say yes so often that we sometimes cannot remember what we've said yes to doing. As a result, tasks remain undone and favors end up forgotten. Later, we kick ourselves for not being good enough when the problem is not our being good enough; it's our taking on too much because we care so much. Whoever said "I can only please one person a day and today is just not your day" is probably off drinking a delicious beverage with an umbrella in it because they've figured it all out in a way most of us have not. (I'd stereotype and say that "us" really means women, but I know that would be unfair. A lot of dudes are the same way. I guess.) 

Here's the thing: no is one of the first words we overuse as toddlers and one of the first words we don't say enough as adults. To save your sanity, improve one of your relationships, get more sleep, or feel less cranky, I challenge all of you to reteach yourself the word that two-year-old you was so wise to love.

And on to the real reason you visit me here at this little ol' blog. My awesome fashion sense. 

My husband decided to take a selfie first. 

Based on my wardrobe choices, I'm pretty sure my favorite colors are yellow and blue. I can't stop wearing them.  

I think this bow completes the entire ensemble.

The following image freaked me out on Google+ (when did it start making these!?), so I'm freaking you out, too. I feel like the image's soundbite should say, "WEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

The Outfit:

Dress: Target for $8 on the clearance rack

(I own it in black and stripes. IT HAS POCKETS.)

Flats: Nine West via Marshall's

Belt: New York & Co.

Blazer: Express

Arrow necklace: Stella and Dot

Bow clip: Forever 21

While taking these pictures, Jeff exclaimed, "you need a tan." Thank you for the vote of confidence, sweet husband of mine. 

Linking up here, here, and here. 

Polka Dot Jeans

I really have no idea why these pictures turned out so grainy. 

Maybe it's meant to disguise how horrifically ragged I look today.

My co-teacher laughed at my satellite hairs just floating on my head.

I stated that it was either sleep or hair this morning. Sleep won. Why wouldn't it?

 I thought these pants would be really easy to style because they're blue and gray. 

I was wrong...

Until I found a fashion blog (can't remember which one) that inspired me to wear coral with my polka dot jeans. Oh, how I love you brilliant fashion bloggers. 

Pants: Marshalls--here are some from Old Navy

Shoes: Marshalls (Nine West)--try these

Top: The Limited--I like this peplum coral top

Cardigan: Target--try this one from Target

Necklace: Stella & Dot

linking up with The Pleated Poppy :)

Little Red Heels

My body hates drugs. 

I don't mean illegal drugs, but I'm sure it would really hate those.

I mean legal medications like Advil, penicillin, sulfa drugs, and anything else that's supposed to make a person feel better.

I think my body is actually building up an allergy to Advil.

Every month, the sickest I feel is several days after I start taking Advil for cramps. However, I'm caught in a catch 22. If I don't take Advil, my cramps are so bad that I will crawl the walls. If I do take Advil, I'm reduced to a nauseated, dizzy mess. I can't win.

Today at work, I felt ill all morning, especially after taking Advil, but I chalked it up to Mother Nature's wily ways. I shrugged it off until halfway through the day when I wasn't sure whether I would pass out or throw up all over the floor. I started to shake, I felt nauseated, my mouth was dry, my chest was tight, I was short of breath, I had a headache, and I was dizzy. I remembered all of these symptoms because they were the same ones that visited me when I suffered a much worse allergic reaction to an antibiotic. For the first time in a long time, I flew out of work. My poor intern started last week, and I just left him with a pile of work. If I didn't feel so awful, I would feel awful about it.

I am now loading up on lots of fluids and gluten-free crackers (if I can stomach them.) Luckily, the fluids seem to be helping...some. 

Seriously, body? I know you reject all medications, but what am I to do with you?

And, Advil? I hate you so bad.

Before this bottle of water sends me to the bathroom again, I shall share today's outfit with you. You can't see it, but my dress has little red heels all over it. If I felt better, I would have tried harder to snag a  clearer detail shot. You get what you get. 

Dress: Jessica Simpson via Marshall's ($14.99)

Blazer: Old Navy (~$35)

Silver belt: NY & Co. (old)

Silver flats: Nine West via Marshall's ($29.99)

I am going to take a nap now. 

Bye.