Cute eShakti skirt, but my midsection feels strangled.

I am beginning to realize that how good something is for you is directly proportional to how horrible it tastes. Since the doctor put me on antibiotics for nearly three months, I needed probiotics to work some miracles on my digestive tract. I opted for a five-day, super duty powder. The directions say to take it with 8oz. of water or raw juice. Having no idea what exactly "raw" juice is and knowing how terrible the powder tastes alone, I ground up some peaches and strawberries along with the powder and hoped that it wouldn't taste like...eww. I failed. Essentially, I was drinking a concoction that tasted like feet covered in fruit. Or what I imagine feet covered in fruit to taste like.

Anyway, today's skirt is courtesy of eShakti. They asked me to pick something and review it. Since I've wanted to try this company for over a year, I obviously said yes. And I obviously picked a maxi skirt because what girl doesn't love crotchless, glorified pajamas? PLUS, this one comes with pockets! Unfortunately, as pretty as the print of this skirt is, the cut is awkward. I even measured myself to make sure I was right about the numbers I entered into the system. (You can customize the clothes to fit your body, which is delightful.) Somehow, I ended up with a skirt that I have to situate several inches above my belly button, and I still feel a little suffocated. The stitching on the sides is off, too. It doesn't lay right on my hips, but my mom thinks she can fix it.

Overall, I think the skirt is gorgeous, but I don't love the fit, which is probably my fault for not reading fine print or measuring myself properly. This is the ONLY way I could think to wear it in order to cover up the unflattering fit on the hips. I would've gone with a white shirt, but you can see the skirt through it. Not a fan. Feel free to throw more suggestions my way.

Like Father Like Daughter

Anyone who has spent any length of time reading my posts knows full well that I frequently discuss awkward, inappropriate topics like poop, inner thigh sweat, and nose goblins. After I posted a picture of my dad's "artwork" on Instagram and Facebook, one of my colleagues said it best: "I'm beginning to understand."

You see, if my husband and I leave for the weekend, my dad usually becomes doggy daycare daddy. My dad is NOT someone you want in your home alone. Not because he will rob you of your valuables. Not because he will throw a rager of a party and leave your abode littered with beer cans and frat boy vomit. Not because your dogs will be worm food by the time you arrive home. But because he will leave dog crap in your toilet (complete with chunks of dirt and grass), he will tape your toilet paper rolls shut, and he will leave notes all over your apartment for you and your husband. The ones for you will be sweet with hearts and smiley faces. The ones for your husband will have expertly drawn pictures of penises or middle fingers. One of these notes, which features a middle finger shaped like a penis, will be on the outside of a box that you must return to another person.

Now you know why I have no boundaries and why I rarely (if ever) feel embarrassed.

Anyway, since the LOFT gift card giveaway ends tomorrow, I thought I would show you some of my favorite outfits that feature LOFT pieces.

Yep, I love LOFT. 

I have no boundaries.

Today, our senior class graduates! Of course, I had to write this post the night before graduation because I am teaching a full day and then working graduation, which entails corralling teenage boys. 

I did not wear this dress to graduation (back is too low). I wore it to another Memorial Day BBQ on Monday because it was 90 degrees outside. Sure, I still suffered from inner thigh sweat, but whatever. Embrace the thigh sweat. Speaking of inner thigh sweat, I am SO glad graduation is at 8 p.m. tonight. Last year, it was earlier in the day, and it was so hot that I thought my inner thighs would start a fire. Of course, they were sweating so profusely under my robe that they would have set fire to themselves only to put it out. (Note: all of our county's high school graduations are held at the same outdoor location. The "ceiling" fans in the pavilion are so high up that it feels like a mouse is puffing at you from the rafters. A very small mouse.) 

This blog has reached new, awkward heights. There is nothing I won't discuss. Okay, there are some things I won't discuss. I even briefly mentioned inner thigh sweat when I posted last year's graduation look. 

The Look:

Dress: Candie's via Kohl's (old)

Belt: The Limited

Shoes: Converse via DSW

Purse: Marshall's (I realize I look much too tiny in comparison to a purse that's also supposed to be somewhat tiny, but what is a girl to do? Plus, the black looks a little harsh with such a cutesy look, but I love my new purse, so I shall wear it with all the things!) 

Hello, bruise I didn't know was on my back right calf. How pronounced you look against my pasty legs.

When the weather was cold, I also wore the dress this way:

Little Red Dress

This weekend, we visited our friends in New York for their housewarming party. The more we visit them, the more I love that state. Of course, my love for the state is probably directly related to how much I like the people who live in it (the people we visit, not the random New Yorkers who look oddly at my husband and me, the crazy Marylanders, who stop to coo at their dogs). However, I do not enjoy the four (and then some?) hour drive from Maryland to New York, but some people are worth white knuckling the arm rest and console while my husband plays almost bumper cars with everyone who's driving "too slowly" in the "fast" lane. I have this deal with him. I either pass out or throw up while he drives--he's a maniac, if you ask me--and everyone prefers a car that does not smell of vomit, which means I sleep.

What you're seeing today is how I looked before the car ride. I'd like to think I still looked presentable when I exited the vehicle, but I know my face and head looked a little worse for wear. I wish car hair, which is worse than hat hair, looked better after four hours, but even strapped in by a seat belt, I cage fight in my sleep. Or run a marathon. Or swim under imaginary water. Who can be sure? Then, I wake up, and my husband likes to roll down the windows, which turns the car into a wind tunnel. My hair never stands a chance.

If you are new to this neck of Bloglandia, welcome. Obviously, I find my outfits worthy enough to share, but I hope you find my words so entertaining that they bring you back.  Surely, my pasty legs won't magnetize you to this blog. Or maybe they will. If you're into that sort of thing.

The Look:

Dress: Isaac Mizrahi for Target (via thredUP)

Jean Jacket: Old Navy

Purse: TJ Maxx

Necklaces: Target

Shoes: Aldo (I have worn them only twice, but I'm thinking about selling them because I found another pair I reeeeeeeally love even more. These are size 8.5 and retail for $70, but I was thinking about selling for $40; buyer pays shipping. Let me know if you're interested!)

I can't be trusted with gift giving.

Last week, I was tasked with getting a bridal shower gift from two of my colleagues and me. So, during lunch, I ordered a really cute wall decal and fabulous luggage from the Target registry and scheduled for in-store pick up after school. I thought, "what a genius! I have to go to Target anyway!" Two hours later, Target e-mailed me to say that half of my order was cancelled. As I somewhat aimlessly perused the adult version of Disney World that is Target, I decided to pick up this cute chevron rug I remembered being on the registry. 

When I made it to the check out line, I exclaimed, "Oh no, I forgot to print the registry for you to scan!" He suggested I find it on my phone. Smart dude. Once I pulled up the registry on my phone, I realized that my colleague is NOT, in fact, registered at Target, but some people I don't know in Cincinnati, Ohio are. Yes, I ordered something from a complete stranger's registry. After I dropped an "oh, shit!" to that cashier, the only response I could manage with the guest services' cashier who said, "how did that even happen?" was "I'm a dumb ass, that's how." Mom and Dad clearly spent good money on my college education.

With my unfrozen frozen food melting in my cart, I then proceeded to lose my car for a full five minutes in the parking lot. For a moment, I considered setting off the car alarm, but I feared my current lack of luck would mean I'd set off the alarm and never turn it off again. Once in my car, I had a minor panic attack and needed to double check that I ended up with a gift card for a wedding and not a baby. Luckily for you, someone else, the lovely Marissa of The Modern Austen, was in charge of organizing the giveaway that begins today and runs until May 30th. Plus, how can you go wrong with a lady who loves Austen? You can't. 

No, the giveaway is not a gift card to Target because, let's be honest, you'll just spend it on K-cups for your husband and new no-show socks for you. BORING. Or is that just me? Anyway, by checking out some lovely ladies, you can be the proud owner of a $250 gift card to one of my very favorite, teacher-loving stores: LOFT. (For a moment there, I felt all Wheel of Fortune-ish.) You better not be a gift card hoarder, however. There's no room for those folks around these parts. Spend that bad boy! And, if it burns a hole in your pocket, you have the cash to replace them ;)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

My Outfit is Boring, but(t) My Words are Not.

Essentially, the only non-boring things about this outfit are the "statement" necklace (which isn't even full of color, just plain ol' clear, fake crystal or whatever) and my butt. In fact, I think my butt makes more of a statement than my necklace does. Of course, I feel that my butt tries to steal the show every day. Why must a skirt on a girl who's my height look significantly shorter on me? Oh, that's right. I have a behind that robs my thighs of extra material. No matter what pants I pull on, whomp (rump?), there it is. Oh well, I guess some butt is better than eroding butt syndrome, from which most men suffer. You know very well what I mean. Those dudes whose knees look like they're trying to reach the ground because they provide the stability a non-existent butt cannot. It's like the behind is just sliding away on a slippery slope, which is a terrible comparison considering the content. Anyway, I don't know why I'm comparing rumps with men in the first place, but here we are. 

What other blog can you visit and find outfit pictures commingled with awkward paragraphs about poop, butts, or something equally unsettling? If you know of such a blog, I would like to make friends with its author, so send them my way. 

P.S. Did you see what I did with the title there? Of course you did, smart reader. 

The Look:

Sweater: Elle via Kohl's (it has little nubbins on it)

Necklace: The Limited

Pants: Banana Republic via thredUP (they're the sloan fit pant)

Heels: OLD and from Marshall's

In Honor of Jack

Recently, one of our beloved science teachers lost his fight with cancer. On Facebook, one of my colleagues posted that Jack was the only person she ever met whose eyes had an actual twinkle in them. Truly, Jack might have been Santa's belly-less and beardless brother. He was a man who radiated positivity. I didn't have to spend a lot of time with him to know that everything about Jack was wonderful; he even smelled nice. (After a day with teenage funk, a lady learns to appreciate the finer smells of life.) 

His wife, a retired English teacher who used to work at our school, is equally as lovely, and she just so happens to own the best vocabulary of any human being on the planet. Even their daughter, who worked with me at summer school one year, has the most pleasant personality. Something about that family radiates warmth. 

In honor of Jack and his love of the hockey team, the Capitals, we all wore red. Of course, I decided to take it to the next level, and wear all of the team's colors. Here's to you, Jack. You live on in the hearts of everyone you've touched with your kindness. 

The Look:

Shirt: Old Navy

Cardigan: The Limited (old)

Skirt: via Marshall's

Shoes: Sole Society

Necklace: The Limited 

Sunglasses: LOFT via my mommacita