tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74448975513182653932024-03-29T05:08:26.638-04:00Classy and FabulousClassy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.comBlogger1034125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-76673359113807469172015-07-20T06:57:00.000-04:002015-07-20T06:57:00.114-04:00National Ice Cream Day 2015In case you don't have any social media accounts, yesterday was National Ice Cream Day. I don't even know if that was a thing prior to.... now - but alas, it was, and I celebrated.... more than once.<br />
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I hung out with my BFF and #bffbaby in the afternoon, and she made us a batch of brownies to accompany our ice cream. That was at approximately 5 pm.<br />
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I thought I had the whole National Ice Cream Day in the bag - but alas, there was more!<br />
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My husband got off of work with 2 hours to spare before our best local ice cream place closed. Or - he was supposed to.<br />
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With about 15 minutes to spare till closing time, my husband swept me into the car where we were pretty much last in line at the ice cream shop. <br />
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I made my order, and Mr. RH ordered the most ridiculous order - a banana split. Huge, massive hot mess of an order in 90% humidity. <i>Whatever</i>.<br />
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So we wait for a few minutes, closing time passes, and the girl at the window is shouting out "sugar cone, birthday cake."<br />
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And again, "sugar cone, birthday cake."<br />
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I'm thinking to myself, "hello, who ordered that damn cone?!"<br />
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Oh, right, that would be me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXSMf2SVcNJquLHKAFhUhe1qzDdqbstA8OzIGBCITygzzI79lACYa3usKRvFmTPJRtJJZi0ov1e9aHYg93WGFTvtAIPnEniyz9dhlRR5qdmr_N4OBVQk4pnXpRdYm25c7qn4O1BQOGOHi/s1600/2015-07-04+20.49.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXSMf2SVcNJquLHKAFhUhe1qzDdqbstA8OzIGBCITygzzI79lACYa3usKRvFmTPJRtJJZi0ov1e9aHYg93WGFTvtAIPnEniyz9dhlRR5qdmr_N4OBVQk4pnXpRdYm25c7qn4O1BQOGOHi/s400/2015-07-04+20.49.52.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<i> Not the same cone. Because... you'll see.</i></div>
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I take my shame face up to the window and get my cone. About 2 seconds later, licking my melting prize, the scoop, perfectly perched on top of the cone, falls off the cone. Amateur hour.<br />
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Directly into my purse and onto my phone, no less.<br />
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So, as a rational adult... I reach down into my purse and grab the dang scoop and put it back on top of my cone. And then I proceed to turn my back to the people eating nearby and discreetly try to lick my phone while attempting to forget every single <i>20/20</i> episode where they tell you your phone is the dirtiest thing you own and will likely kill you someday.<br />
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Embarrassment aside, we finally grab Mr. RH's banana split and high tail it to the car. He holds it like the golden ticket and I pretend I don't know the goon with the giant banana split.<br />
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Walk into the house, sit on the couch, and suddenly Mr. RH's banana split is leaking all over his lap and the pillow from the couch.<br />
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National Ice Cream Day: 2. RH Family: -0.<br />
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Ice cream, if I didn't love you so much, we would be finished. Alas.... nope.<br />
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Until we meet again, old foe.Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-30804044014784152462015-06-11T09:22:00.001-04:002015-06-11T09:22:03.270-04:00Happy Birthday, Mr. RH!Last week, Mr. RH and I celebrated his birthday with a week of complete laziness, road trips, and with two birthday cakes because I messed up the first one.<br />
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Needless to say, it'll be a quarter to never before I make another red velvet cake <i>from scratch, </i>mmmkay?<br />
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The cake and frosting are a cclassic RH family recipe, so I was reluctant to try them in the first place... and I think this has sealed the deal: no more family recipes.<br />
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The first cake wasn't sweet enough, even though I followed the recipe. Not to mention, I think it was undercooked, so it collapsed once I took it out of the oven. Ick.<br />
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However, my frosting game was apparently correct, as seen on Mr. RH's abandoned piece on our nastiest plate. I almost cropped the free weights and yoga mat out of the background of that pic, but I couldn't stop laughing - so it stays. <br />
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The second cake was allegedly better. So - after the homemade cake fiasco, I decided to use a boxed cake. Of course, after my oven was heating and ready to go - I realized I didn't have red velvet cake, per the birthday boy's request. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_k8R4_q2ttXt6p2eOmtOl9IVMyz0p57kuN9iu3kfDvnCKEnA32jgEv0jSq4ggwcGSnuNewAQnLwDaAs76PgnRu6kHvvzpnvLU4kzOzNFI_AbcxfvGxOYi4iKh19sk5Ypwli5UMK2NAKi/s1600/26th+bday.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_k8R4_q2ttXt6p2eOmtOl9IVMyz0p57kuN9iu3kfDvnCKEnA32jgEv0jSq4ggwcGSnuNewAQnLwDaAs76PgnRu6kHvvzpnvLU4kzOzNFI_AbcxfvGxOYi4iKh19sk5Ypwli5UMK2NAKi/s400/26th+bday.JPG" width="287" /></a></div>
So I googled it, and you can use ingredients in your own pantry to turn a boxed white cake into a red velvet cake. WHO KNEW.<br />
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I did, however, make extra-special RH family frosting that includes Crisco. Only because I love this man would I voluntarily use Crisco in a recipe. For one thing - eww, it's like gelled fat.<br />
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For another thing... you can't even get it off your hands. Like... once it's on you, it doesn't leave. Eww.<br />
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So my cake was not pretty, but the 2nd one was at least edible. <br />
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As for Mr. RH's birthday.... I kinda droped the ball on his gift. I had originally planned to get him an Apple Watch (eyeroll), but at the last minute he decided he didn't want one anymore.<br />
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Therefore, poor Mr. RH got 3 pairs of fancy <a href="https://www.stance.com/">Stance socks</a> and a pair of boxers for his birthday. <br />
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If you've never heard of Stance socks, your husband is not a hipster who likes to dress fancy.<br />
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Happy Birthday, Mr. RH. I'm sorry I suck at gift-giving, and I promise I'll do better next year. <strike>Probably. Maybe.</strike><br />
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As for my Worst Wife of the Year Award... I'm expecting to go home with the big trophy<br />
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Better luck next year?Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-7234324098614390242015-05-06T07:51:00.000-04:002015-05-06T07:51:18.380-04:00New Year's ResolveYou know, do you ever look at yourself in May and think, hey, I should blog about my New Year's resolutions?<br />
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Ha, yeah, apparently ME EITHER.<br />
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So I don't do resolutions, but Mr. RH and I decided to do a few things together this year. And by "do things" I mean catch up on each other's favorite TV shows. So on January 1st, we started watching two programs: <i>Grey's Anatomy</i> and <i>Sons of Anarchy</i>. I'm not sure if you'll know which of us prefers which show... but I thought the ratio of 92 episodes of <i>Sons </i>to 250 episodes of <i>Grey's.... </i>seems totally fair.<br />
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Things were going great with <i>Sons</i> until Jax and Tara had sex right next to a dead body. After that... well, we haven't watched another episode since January. I'm traumatized, and I need to not associate dead bodies with sex, even if Jax is delicious, ok?<br />
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Since January, we've been watching <i>Grey's</i>. You see, <i>Grey's </i>and I go back to 2005, when I was a senior in high school and life was so different. The series premiered while I was on spring break in Key West with my family - and I had seen commercials about it. I'm pretty sure I berated my family to be "home" to our hotel (condo?) so I could watch the premiere. I. was. hooked.<br />
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I introduced it to everyone I met in college, and I remember our first night in the dorms, crowding into a couple of loft beds to watch the fall 2006 episodes, and I sobbed with my college roommate on our futon after the Superbowl to watch "the bomb episode". Gah.<br />
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Part of me wishes that <i>Grey's</i> had ended after it's major heyday, maybe sometime in the neighborhood of the time Izzy got cancer? But then again.... I think there were some episodes after that were some of the best <i>Grey's</i> I've seen... so who knows.<br />
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So we're somewhere in season 8, kind of past the major heyday of <i>Grey's</i>... but it's just one of those shows that <i>knows</i> me, ya know? And then, a couple weeks ago social media officially informed me of the <i>spoiler I really didn't want to know</i>.<br />
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Depressing.<br />
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I had to give up my Grey's several years ago, when Mr. RH and I were dating and I no longer had time to park myself in front of the TV every Thursday night. I gave up McDreamy for my McDreamy... so I guess it was a good trade-off? <br />
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Luckily, my McDreamy is paying it forward now by letting us catch up. Poor guy, he's dying. He says it's literally the worst television since... well, since Izzy did CPR on a dead deer. <br />
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Excellent point, my McDreamy. Excellent point. Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-9082451288667384152015-04-29T16:49:00.000-04:002015-04-29T16:49:00.193-04:00Pick Me, Choose Me, Buy Me.Well, like I said in my last post, I'm still recovering from the February funk. Being as it's almost May.... well, hopefully I've really recovered. Now that it's above 50 degrees on a regular basis.... I am finding my mojo - and I miss this blog. Many thanks to not wearing pants anymore for helping me find my mojo.<br />
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And yes, I popped back in here because I really think your life will be better if you make a specific purchase. And stop wearing jeans because winter is OVER.<br />
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Enter my new BFF: <a href="http://oldnavy.gap.com/">Old Navy</a>.<br />
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Never fear: I may not have posted in 51 days, but my crappy outfit photos are exactly the same. The front-on photo of the skirt makes it look wide because when I stood like a normal person there was too much of my toes in the picture. <i>Nothankyou</i>. <br />
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Anyway, you can get this shirt in black/white, gray, black, OR this fab red/navy stripe that I highly recommend. It's <a href="http://oldnavy.gap.com/browse/product.do?pid=3430820320104&cid=99304">listed for $32.94</a> but I got it for at least 30% off. I'm wearing a medium in the picture, but I think next time (duh I'm buying the black/white stripe) I'm going to buy a small tall. The medium fits, but I find that tall always has a little more room than the regular size. #sizingishard<br />
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Let's recap: Life is better in the summer. Life is better wearing clothes that don't require leg-shaving. Life is better when I have this blog. Hi, I've missed you!! <br />
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<br />Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-62332018569118421342015-03-09T17:44:00.002-04:002015-03-09T17:44:49.403-04:00Bye February FunkIn my head, I've been busy lately, and the words seem to disappear every time I try to write them down.<br />
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I say I've only been busy in my head, because if I try to recall what has actually been filling up my calendar... I'm coming up rather empty.<br />
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I interviewed for a job last week, and it went well. I felt like for once I actually asked the right questions - but then after the interview, I was able to actually think of more that I should have asked or been more firm about. It was weird - the lady interviewing me, who would have become my boss, really seemed quite content to let me do the majority of the talking - so I can't figure out if my questions clued her in to the fact that I knew what I was talking about... or if she was just generally.... I dunno, not inclined to ask more?<br />
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I was feeling 50/50 - I felt like I actually did a good job of digging around, but she didn't really quiz me or ask me much that I felt like I needed to answer... so that was weird. The interview ended with her telling me she would have an offer on Friday. And she did call on Thursday afternoon, as soon as she had an offer prepared.<br />
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I know, rationally, that I probably need to get a move on. I've outgrown my job, and the only options for moving up are basically taking me in a direction I don't want to go. So - an offer on the table should make my decision easy, right?<br />
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HAH. I had been contemplating it all week. Was there a magical number that would make the decision for me - yes and no. Was there a part of me that wanted to get out of my current job just to prove I could - yes. Did I make myself crazy worrying - duh. <br />
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In the end, after I really reviewed what we had talked about in the interview - I was able to make up my mind in a second. The work-life balance the new company was offering was SO poor compared to my current job. As in - working the entire week of Thanksgiving. As in, 7 days. Even in the crappy game of retail - that is some real BS, folks. My store can function just fine and doesn't require my physical presence to do business. <i>Thankgod.</i><br />
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The interviewer also talked significantly about "work-life balance", which is a fun little phrase that I think can cover all kinds of poor management strategies. She even said that she personally really valued work-life balance - but also that she was available "24/7" to her team and her family was grown so she was all work, all the time. RED FLAGS DANGER WILL ROBINSON.<br />
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(Side note: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Danger,_Will_Robinson">who is Will Robinson?</a> I feel better now that I know that.)<br />
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So. I obviously turned down the job cold. She told me that she was really pleased with my offer (it was a definite low-ball, 100%), and I said I just felt like there was a lot of lip service to a company practice that was probably not totally on board with the concept.<br />
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It felt good to know that I can make a move when the right job comes along, and it also really felt good to say no to something that was just going to end up being a huge mistake.<br />
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I'm fairly certain this is not what I was planning to blog about today. Like - not by a long shot. But all through February I had this weight on my chest and felt like I needed to make a move, make some decisions, and nothing paralyzes me more than a life-altering decision. Blah.<br />
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Onward and upward, March! Don't let me down!<br />
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Side note: If you too have a bad habit of eating your feelings, don't marry my husband because he is an enabler. We had planned a little midweek date with the TV and in the midst of my stressing, he brought me something from the Taco Bell drive through... and it was literally disgusting and delicious at the same time.<br />
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Cinnabon Delights. Seriously, don't even try them. It's like an elephant ear had a baby with cream cheese frosting. Warm, melty cream cheese frosting. I don't remember loving them while I was eating but omg I've having bad dreams about them now.<br />
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Certainly that helps with the end of February funk, right?Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-50044434718339191262015-02-19T06:30:00.000-05:002015-02-19T06:30:01.060-05:00Long-Term DIY ProjectsBack in October, I <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2014/10/get-yo-craft-on-twice-maybe-thrice.html">wrote a post</a> about a craft project I was starting. The thing is - I started it in FEBRUARY. Of 2014. Now, it's February of 2015. (This is scintillating stuff, here.)<br />
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I have no ripped the buttons off at least twice, and then I sat and stared at it for approximately 3 months. <br />
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Then I fixed the buttons and became paralyzed with trying to "finish" it with some text.<br />
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And after staring at it for hours, and many freak-outs with a fine-tipped paint brush... it's all finished.<br />
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Found the perfect spot for it, and I definitely don't notice the imperfections once it's hanging next to my favorite canvas.<br />
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One long-term DIY project to down. Maybe I should consider tightening my timeframe down to the six-month mark instead of a YEAR next time.Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-17246007897598900892015-02-17T15:57:00.001-05:002015-02-17T15:57:32.699-05:00No-Key Valentine's DayThis year, I made Mr. RH swear that we would have a low-key Valentine's Day. As it turned out, we were working opposite shifts on the day itself... but as I was getting ready to leave work, Mr. RH told me there was a surprise for me - which turned out to be him.<br />
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That sentence was potentially a grammar sin, but the point is: Mr. RH switched his work shifts, thus resulting in me not spending my night alone eating Ramen noodles and clearing out my DVR. <strike> Which, I'm not gonna lie, I was actually really looking forward to.</strike><br />
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Instead, I got a night of Grey's Anatomy episodes and a chicken quesadilla. WITH guac. Ahh, romance.<br />
<br />
In a move surprising both of us, we actually ended up only exchanging cards this V-day, no gifts or sweets of any kind. Although... SOMEONE in the house bought a bunch of clothes that they didn't need and someone ELSE bought themselves a Wii. Although it was sort of a delayed "wedding" gift, so technically that someone else actually got a "media tower" which is man-speak for an ugly shelf to put the 85 electronic gadgets we don't need to own on...<br />
<br />
Bitter, party of <strike>wife</strike> none.<br />
<br />
Actually, I can say that we each did ONE romantic thing during the month of love: we both, on the same day, bought each other TWO boxes of Red Velvet oreos.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Which means my thighs are 4x as big as they should be and he hasn't gained an ounce. <i>As per usual.</i><br />
<br />
All in all, I would say it was a successful Valentine's Day. I got a card on a greeting card holiday, and all is right with the world.<br />
<br />Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-35719649789756994512015-01-30T06:30:00.000-05:002015-01-30T06:30:01.364-05:00December in a NutshellSo you blog about how you're getting back to blogging and then you let 21 days go between blog posts. AHEM.<br />
<br />
I want to blog, and I've been mentally composing blog posts for weeks... but I feel awkward about that big blog pause from November to... now. I feel like I need to explain the days away, ya know??<br />
<br />
Anyway, things hit the fan somewhere around the 2nd week of November. My boss and I were working on the Big Black Friday schedule (approximately a billion hours of work, for those of you not in retail), and then she mentioned (on my day off) that I should probably stop by the store. No big thing, so I stopped by in my sweats and she dropped a big bomb on me: she was leaving the following week for a temporary assignment in the Mall of America.<br />
<br />
So along with losing a huge chunk of ground on a massive schedule... I also become the sole authoritiy within our four walls, which meant that I don't think I spent more than 3-4 hours at a time between November and the last week of December away from actually working or calling and texting the team in my store. It was fun, it was a TON of work, and I can't say that I was sad to see December end. <br />
<br />
That being said... I think I've been feeling a little blue because Mr. RH and I "missed'" Christmas. We never watched <i>It's a Wonderful Life</i>, we didn't drive around and look at Christmas lights, I baked only a few cookies when I really felt like I had to... so yeah, I've got a little post-Christmas hangover.<br />
<br />
Luckily, the time I spent away from this blog allowed me to carve out a little time to do some fun things, and even though I barely got my camera out all through Christmas... I managed to capture just enough photos so I've got a few memories to look back on.<br />
<br />
Mr. RH and I went with his family to see the lights the week after Thanksgiving. I'm glad we took the time then, cause we didn't end up with any better opportunities closer to Christmas.<br />
<br />
We got one decent-ish photo of the two of us.... <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6LNpW5teTsH8TDH6AKLvesIzij2jCBxhWLMoIiKS0UP6bLN4cqnvU-qxpcfVkszGeYdHFSpCufaxiORi5cuXpjqR1SpU0ehDwVrVQZcIqbZR_mgRZLUA1PDDW8raYFZjMjJwcURqbnupO/s1600/Our+Christmas+(800x533).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6LNpW5teTsH8TDH6AKLvesIzij2jCBxhWLMoIiKS0UP6bLN4cqnvU-qxpcfVkszGeYdHFSpCufaxiORi5cuXpjqR1SpU0ehDwVrVQZcIqbZR_mgRZLUA1PDDW8raYFZjMjJwcURqbnupO/s1600/Our+Christmas+(800x533).jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And I re-created <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE6vJHh6yFNKGYJdGP-iAjwGDVDU3K5FZyNyMCLxGXogaYqAtxjpcr8wwFddy-Kq6uFaV7nBb6DMfeV2jjIfF_Mbb1G4hx_SUcFutEPqwHHrfzxOJ3trIke1gBbImTRX6fqPd3bpDZSvMa/s1600/mr+rh.JPG">a favorite photo of Mr. RH from way back in 2012</a>. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBnLfyOOk6ECPev1pSY9-yDwXffI8Gp5qNJWIflFaM1yo6K1nr-8ouO8_3HLTYYfaxbBgN-2TqO4tLs9G5Sh36VYLqE8vDGrJqDzdmXK0pGtXCeouY-Nd5fqXsG_fJesVBdLaeoGkbJNDk/s1600/RH+Christmas+(533x800).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBnLfyOOk6ECPev1pSY9-yDwXffI8Gp5qNJWIflFaM1yo6K1nr-8ouO8_3HLTYYfaxbBgN-2TqO4tLs9G5Sh36VYLqE8vDGrJqDzdmXK0pGtXCeouY-Nd5fqXsG_fJesVBdLaeoGkbJNDk/s1600/RH+Christmas+(533x800).jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
(I can barely click the link to that old photo. Where did that long hair and baby face <span style="color: #0000ee;">go</span>?!)<br />
<br />
We made it to Christmas mass with my dad, and he managed to get probably the only good photo of the two of us during Christmas. I think if 2015 had a resolution, it would be MORE PHOTOS!!!<br />
<br />
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<br />
Right after Christmas I was able to make some time for my BFFs, and I got to snuggle #BFFbaby in her cozy PJs. I don't like that she's growing up, but I love that she let me snuggle me long enough for her mom to snap a picture. <br />
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<br />
And we managed to get a so-so picture of the BFFs. I was having camera issues. <br />
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<br />
And then I took another afternoon and managed to get a couple pics of Miss Maeven in rare, sassy form. This girl does not like to have a photo taken and she is a sass for my camera. Love it! <br />
<br />
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<br />
Although if she smiled once in a while on command I wouldn't cry either.<br />
<br />
So... it was a good Christmas. A busy, chaotic Christmas that went by in the blink of any eye... but apparently I also had fun in between all of the craziness. The proof is in the pictures! <br />
<br />
Now... back to 2015!Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-80783049809753880582014-12-28T10:03:00.000-05:002015-01-08T10:05:49.446-05:00The Classy Bookshelf: 2014 in Review2014 was a pretty good year in books, I'm not going to lie. I felt like I read some really excellent books, some really overly hyped books (looking at you, The Goldfinch)... it was just a solid year.<br />
<br />
Let's look back, shall we?<br />
<br />
In 2010, I read 65 books and didn't document them particularly well on the blog.<br />
In 2011 (the year I met Mr. RH and fell head over heels), <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2011/12/classy-bookshelf-2011-review.html">I read only 39 books</a>!<br />
In 2012, I got engaged and <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-classy-bookshelf-2012-in-review.html">read 78 books</a>! Those were the days.<br />
In 2013, I read 63 books. Not my best work!<br />
<br />
And this past year, 2014, I read.... 71 books, out of my goal of 73 books. In my defense, I was positive I nailed 73 books with a few days to go, so I got lazy.<br />
<br />
Come to find out, as I'm reviewing my list on <a href="http://goodreads.com/classyfabsarah">Goodreads</a> - I had TWO books listed twice. FAIL FAIL FAIL. Stinking goodreads... isn't there a way to make sure I don't do that?! Ugh, broke my damn heart.<br />
<br />
I set my goal at 75 for 2015... I'm really not sure about that AT ALL. I think 73 was hard (and come to find it was only 71!!)... so who knows. In retrospect... I do not like to fail at anything... but oh well. I guess I'm going to have to carve out some reading time!<br />
<br />
I'm using the following color-coding system for my recommendations: <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #006600; font-weight: bold;">MUST READS (Bold and green!)</span><br />
<span style="color: #000099;">Excellent Reads (Blue!)</span><br />
<span style="color: red;">Hated the Plot Reads (Red)</span><br />
And the ones in black...meh. Clearly they didn't make an impact. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br />
<ol>
<li><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"></span></span></span>A
Vintage Affair by Isabel Wolff</li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">Out
of Sight, Out of Time by Ally Carter</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Legend
by Marie Lu</b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">The
Fault in Our Stars by John Green</span></li>
<li>Where’d
You Go, Bernadette? by Maria Semple</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>What
Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty</b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">Liesl & Po by Lauren Oliver</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Life
As We Knew It by Susan Beth Pfeffer</b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">Partials
by Dan Wells</span></li>
<li>Perfect Timing by Jill Mansell</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>The
Selection by Kiera Cass</b></span></li>
<li>Easy
by Tammara Webber</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Deadlocked
by Charlaine Harris</b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">Someday
Someday Maybe by Lauren Graham</span></li>
<li>The
Edge of Never by J.A. Redmerski</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>The
Elite by Kiera Cass</b></span></li>
<span style="color: #38761d;">
</span>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Attachments
by Rainbow Rowell</b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">Someone
Else’s Love Story by Joshilyn Jackson</span></li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">The
Bride Wore Size 12 by Meg Cabot</span></li>
<li><b><span style="color: #38761d;">Prodigy
by Marie Lu</span></b></li>
<b><span style="color: #38761d;">
</span></b>
<li><b><span style="color: #38761d;">Champion
by Marie Lu</span></b></li>
<li><span style="color: red;">The
Goldfinch by Donna Tartt</span></li>
<li>Waiting
for You by Shey Stahl</li>
<li>The
Wager by Rachel van Dyken</li>
<li>The
Boy Who Sneaks in My Bedroom Window by Kirsty Moseley</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>The
Rise of Nine by Pittacus Lore</b></span></li>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><b>
</b></span>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>The
Fall of Five by Pittacus Lore</b></span></li>
<li>The
Prince by Kiera Cass</li>
<li>Single
by Saturday by Catherine Bybee</li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">Mint
Juleps & Justice by Nancy Naigle</span></li>
<li>Wait
for You by J. Lynn</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Innocence
by Dean Koontz</b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>The
Supreme Macaroni Company by Adriana Trigiani</b></span></li>
<li>The
Antelope in the Living Room by Melanie Shankle</li>
<li>A Not So Model Home by David James</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Angelfall
by Susan Ee</b></span></li>
<li>The
Last Original Wife by Dorothea Benton Frank</li>
<li>World
After by Susan Ee</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Unravel
Me by Taherah Mafi</b></span></li>
<li>Going
Vintage by Lindsey Leavitt</li>
<li>The
Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot</li>
<li><span style="color: red;">The
Divorce Papers by Susan Rieger</span></li>
<li>Three
Wishes by Liane Moriarty</li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">The
Hypnotist’s Love Story by Liane Moriarty</span></li>
<li>The Last
Anniversary by Liane Moriarty</li>
<li>The
Matchmaker by Erin Hilderbrand</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Shades
of the Earth by Beth Revis</b></span></li>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><b>
</b></span>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Son
by Lois Lowry</b></span></li>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><b>
</b></span>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Messenger
by Lois Lowry</b></span></li>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><b>
</b></span>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>A
Million Suns by Beth Revis</b></span></li>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><b>
</b></span>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Number
the Stars by Lois Lowry</b></span></li>
<li>This
is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper</li>
<li>The
Dead & The Gone by Susan Beth Pfeffer</li>
<li>Me
Before You by Jojo Moyes</li>
<li>Big
Little Lies by Liane Moriarty</li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">The
Shoemaker’s Wife by Adriana Trigiani</span></li>
<li>The
World We Live In by Susan Beth Pfeffer</li>
<li>One
Plus One by Jojo Moyes</li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">Landline
by Rainbow Rowell</span></li>
<li>The
Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>The
One by Kiera Cass</b></span></li>
<li>The
Storied Life of A. J. Firkey by Gabrielle Zevin</li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>The
Book Thief by Markus Zusak</b></span></li>
<li>Isolation
by Dan Wells</li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">The
Paper Magician by Charlie N. Holmberg</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>The
Peach Keeper by Sarah Addison Allen</b></span></li>
<li>Dead
Ever After by Charlaine Harris</li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">The
Ladies Room by Carolyn Brown</span></li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">Not That
Kind of Girl by Lena Dunham</span></li>
<li><span style="color: blue;">People
I Want to Punch in The Throat by Jen Mann</span></li>
<li><span style="color: #38761d;"><b>The
Girl Who Chased the Moon by Sarah Addison Allen</b></span></li>
</ol>
By the numbers:
<br />
<ul>
<li>2011: 16,801 pages</li>
<li>2012: 25,706 pages</li>
<li>2013: 20,638 pages</li>
<li>2014: 23,971 pages</li>
</ul>
A 16% increase in one year... not too shabby! I don't have such high aspirations for this year... maybe just break even?<br />
<br />
If you need a a less-intense list of book recommendations, I would suggest: The Selection series by Kiera Cass, anything by Rainbow Rowell but especially Attachments, anything by Liane Moriarty but especially What Alice Forgot, The Peach Keeper by Sarah Addison Allen (will be reading more of her in 2015!), Across the Universe series by Beth Revis, The Legend series by Marie Lu, Innocence by Dean Koontz (out of my normal genre but excellent), and The Giver quartet by Lois Lowry. All excellent and well worth the read!<br />
<br />
If you have a list of book suggestions or a year-in-review post - I would love to read it! Leave me a comment and I'll be exploring it!!<br />
<br />
Happy Reading!!<br />
<br />
<br />Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-86058625667572332262014-11-10T10:03:00.001-05:002014-11-10T10:03:23.468-05:00All Quiet on the Blogging FrontI have been burning to get a post out of my fingertips for days... but unfortunately, work hit the fan over the past week and I feel like all I've done for the past 11 days is eat, sleep, and go back to work. With a side of online shopping.<br />
<br />
So I've been a bit of a zombie lately, but in the midst of the crazy I have been fixating on something that happened during Halloween. I had been wanting to dress up as Rosie the Riveter for over a year now, ever since I had a cute headscarf in my Forever 21 cart a million years ago and it got away from me. <i>RIP F21 HEADSCARF.</i><br />
<br />
Etsy to the rescue.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZShGAXSfPaLFZOOHmkAjBgZAciuFwTuHgo-keYIeSL1vgQMlhbzi2-8Ru6D2YyluKHJi3dOAQ5uGiYXD7iQ27B00dexjb0mwCbmXD9qQP7tyXTdLPywW4dVp5L2hMHeqJK459Ea2oW_C/s1600/2014-10-31+17.01.10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZShGAXSfPaLFZOOHmkAjBgZAciuFwTuHgo-keYIeSL1vgQMlhbzi2-8Ru6D2YyluKHJi3dOAQ5uGiYXD7iQ27B00dexjb0mwCbmXD9qQP7tyXTdLPywW4dVp5L2hMHeqJK459Ea2oW_C/s1600/2014-10-31+17.01.10.jpg" height="320" width="260" /></a></div>
<br />
Bonus points to everyone who didn't think I was Lucille Ball.... which was approximately almost everyone.<br />
<br />
<i>Side note: That pic was taken with my husband's brand spankin new iPhone 6 plus, which apparently besides being super ridiculous takes extremely sharp and focused pictures. I mean, I can see every stray hair and forehead scrunch wrinkle. Dang. Luckily I should be the proud owner of a contract that's ready to be renewed on... Black Friday.</i> <br />
<br />
So I wore the scarf, loved the scarf, became obsessed with the scarf. (Bandana? Headband?)<br />
<br />
Either way, one of my customers nominated this to be my "holiday look" for the year, and I'm pretty much obsessed.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJoY_zMF6gqkgMQh4JDXl5-ONUKEnXSYvaGa_GjyYu3jiygMbpjAMZCs8oBpNY_9zscrwfRFEanctW49v2Q7IAQvFLINjqlw4xXDsy6fEpfqPu72TJleSiN8SjKe1cJdRG_K8T-l1bY2C-/s1600/Head+Scarves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJoY_zMF6gqkgMQh4JDXl5-ONUKEnXSYvaGa_GjyYu3jiygMbpjAMZCs8oBpNY_9zscrwfRFEanctW49v2Q7IAQvFLINjqlw4xXDsy6fEpfqPu72TJleSiN8SjKe1cJdRG_K8T-l1bY2C-/s1600/Head+Scarves.jpg" height="262" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I already have the red polka dot on the bottom left... and I need the red/white/blue because I'm American... but I'm just overwhelmed with possibilities for the other ones I <i>need</i>.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcGVWuGem68VPNukngvfOLthHIqK1lLhdklA0JfGB2cnaJhU2YYvrx-l9P0MBBC9qzwF-Zd2X10bvfvOL5sd4CUQL3usRvf3tsSzcCz09LhYh1qy4GgTzeDcNAIPzqBCb1olEjhSIKtaW8/s1600/color+char.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcGVWuGem68VPNukngvfOLthHIqK1lLhdklA0JfGB2cnaJhU2YYvrx-l9P0MBBC9qzwF-Zd2X10bvfvOL5sd4CUQL3usRvf3tsSzcCz09LhYh1qy4GgTzeDcNAIPzqBCb1olEjhSIKtaW8/s1600/color+char.png" height="137" width="400" /></a></div>
I mean.... the possibilities are endless when you think of clipping on a little pin, sparkly hairbow, etc. I seriously don't know which ones to order. (All these pics are from <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/sandchica">SandChica's etsy shop.</a>)<br />
<br />
I think I'm going to try to limit myself to maybe 5 head scarves. That's not excessive, right? <br />
<br />
And damn if the shop isn't having a sale. What's a girl to do?Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-60006587761424373412014-11-04T06:00:00.001-05:002014-11-04T06:00:32.848-05:00SevenEvery year on this day, I open my computer, go to my pictures and expect to see something new. There's a little piece of my brain that can't reconcile the fact that there are no new pictures of my mom in there. <br />
<br />
I think that one of these days I will "get it", but the truth is that every time I pick up my phone or drive towards the side of town where we used to live, I kind of expect to see her, hear her voice.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd6NRmUcdBRkq91UQpjJ96nAetXPtXPHoRR5AETnhsBkTce8QB1zChVuBEDjxbxkNr9seUBvTdVMuEGBUNUc2xdbYWSnddWA6P1oD1wWZO5aox6zlwMuJafXss7bePf5b1DuHhNuqSdWN0/s1600/Sarah+and+Mom.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd6NRmUcdBRkq91UQpjJ96nAetXPtXPHoRR5AETnhsBkTce8QB1zChVuBEDjxbxkNr9seUBvTdVMuEGBUNUc2xdbYWSnddWA6P1oD1wWZO5aox6zlwMuJafXss7bePf5b1DuHhNuqSdWN0/s1600/Sarah+and+Mom.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
If I look back at my old posts from these last few years (<a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2013/11/six.html">Six</a>, <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2012/11/five.html">Five</a>, <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2011/11/four.html">Four</a>, <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2010/11/three.html">Three</a>, <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2009/11/mom-i-miss-you.html">Two</a>, <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2008/11/click.html">One</a>), the same pattern seems to hold: I've been at work super late, had less than 5 hours of sleep in multiple nights, and have an insane amount of things going on at work to distract me. <br />
<br />
I always think that I should maybe take a day off, mourn properly, but then I think that maybe the busy-ness distracts me from all of the sad, awful thoughts that are better left un-thought. <br />
<br />
But then again... just because I don't have the time or energy to say them out loud doesn't make them un-thought, right?<br />
<br />
Oy.<br />
<br />
Over the years, I've realized that pain is something that scabs over, maybe heals entirely, but the memory of that pain, the memory of being that 22-year-old who really needs her mom <i>right that minute</i> - it never goes away. <br />
<br />
Time heals all wounds, yadda yadda yadda, but time is also a real asshole too, because it takes you further and further away from the one you love.Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-31932947375818364152014-10-28T05:30:00.000-04:002014-10-28T17:09:58.821-04:00Fall Hobby 2014: Apple Orchards<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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About a month ago, Mr. RH and I were with his family when we made a spontaneous trip to the local apple orchard. We bought lots of random, fun goodies - and I knew I was on a dangerous path. I literally couldn't live one more day without a flippin cup of honeycrisp apple cider every hour on the hour.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNieWBg-iFawoRaFMXqcIDoJ5Ydui4Oqw7A802ngevNl9WNGMAI4IAO2TG1KiVg4GLKio9WvMEmljbJdMC-p1zsS2mvfptllgIg0VKZT8L9nCVYtPPxWWk7QvEbP22ysNMx5fkheHKMULR/s1600/Fall+2014.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNieWBg-iFawoRaFMXqcIDoJ5Ydui4Oqw7A802ngevNl9WNGMAI4IAO2TG1KiVg4GLKio9WvMEmljbJdMC-p1zsS2mvfptllgIg0VKZT8L9nCVYtPPxWWk7QvEbP22ysNMx5fkheHKMULR/s1600/Fall+2014.jpg" height="236" width="400" /></a> </div>
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<i>Damn, I wish this picture was better.</i></div>
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Anyway, as we drove home, I immediately texted both BFF's with babies and told them we needed to make immediate plans to get to an orchard.<br />
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Plans were set and we were off with two tiny princesses in tow.<br />
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Princess #1 - my #BFFbaby who apparently doesn't have a name on my blog, except <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/search?q=%23bffbaby">#BFFbaby</a>. It was so much easier when there was only ONE BFF baby, but now that there are two... I mean... #BFFbaby2 doesn't really have a great ring to it...<br />
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Princess #2 - Miss Maeven, the tiny peanut of the group.<br />
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Anyway, I loaded Miss Maeven into her carseat and she immediately gave me a big smile. We had a 30-minute drive to the orchard, so I took this as a GREAT sign. She was excited, we were going to have a great day!!<br />
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<i>I mostly missed her smile with my camera... but trust me, she was happy!</i></div>
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We arrived at the orchard and were immediately assaulted by... bees! Definitely not what we had planned for, but we improvised.</div>
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We found a random apple crate in the parking lot, ducked ourselves under a giant apple tree... and, well, #BFFbaby really worked it. </div>
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You guys, I love all my friends babies with the fire of a thousand burning suns... but this cheese is literally too much to handle.<br />
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Her mom claims she learned all her cheese from me... and truthfully, I can't dispute that claim. <br />
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<i>That tongue kills me dead!!</i></div>
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On the other hand... #MissMaeven got like .24% of a nap in the car, which wasn't exactly her favorite thing ever.<br />
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And it <i>might </i>make me a bad aunt that I was like... well, sorry Maeven, we take what we can get around here even if that means a screaming baby.</div>
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Luckily, she had some cute buns on so that we could ignore her screaming face and focus on the cute butt. And it was a really cute, pumpkin-y butt.<br />
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Don't tell me it makes me a bad aunt that I let her scream her head off for bursts so we could take a few photos. Girl needs to learn how to act right in a picture or she's in for a world of pain with Aunt Sarah. #poorbaby<br />
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Someday we will use these photos as proof that diva/sassy personality traits emerge early in the first year of life.<br />
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Until then, we can just use them to remember a lovely trip to the apple orchard. Screaming baby and all.<br />
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Why oh why doesn't fall last forever?! <br />
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<br />Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-90151264655284031572014-10-23T07:00:00.000-04:002014-10-23T07:00:00.938-04:00Arkansas 2014If you asked me what was the halfway point between my Texas family members and my Indiana family members was, I doubt I would ever answer Arkansas. However, if you ask my dad and aunt, who were searching for midway-locations for vacation loving families... apparently, it's Arkansas.<br />
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Anyway, way back in August we packed up a (rented) minivan and drove 3 adult males and myself to Arkansas. On the way, we played a game where we flipped the XM radio to various stations and if you guessed the correct artist you would win a point... and it was a CLOSE call with around 100 points each to my brother and I. <br />
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<i>Side note: Ed Sheeran and the guy from Passenger (the guy called Passenger?) sound almost exactly the same but they aren't! Also, Ed Sheeran has more songs on the radio than ANYONE ELSE EVER. </i><br />
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Clarification: Indiana to Arkansas is a long-ass drive.<br />
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The fun part about vacation is that it's basically a non-stop photo shoot because all of the new places and sun-kissed skin and good vacation happiness.<br />
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Luckily, we hung out in Arkansas for the most mild week of "southern" weather ever, meaning there was low low humidity and the temperature never got above 90 degrees. MAJOR score.<br />
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We stayed at a vacation-rental-by-owner property that wasn't necessarily the nicest vacation home I've ever been in, but it was clean and had plenty of space, so everyone survived.<br />
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Of course, the private dock down by the water didn't exactly hurt our good moods.</div>
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I can't say that we really "did" much on vacation - other than roast marshmallows, <a href="http://goodreads.com/classyfabsarah">catch up on my Goodreads reading list</a>, take a duck-tour of downtown Hot Springs, Arkansas, and go up and down every single aisle at the local Wal-Mart (when in Arkansas...). </div>
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We also rented a pontoon boat on a pretty small lake... which resulted in Mr. RH shouting out to me that my hair looked bad and if I was going to be doing more posing than tubing that I should at least fix it if he was going to take a picture.</div>
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Noted. Although I can't say it looks any better.</div>
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I forced my dad and brother to take pictures, and they only look 25% like escaped convicts (yay for vacation beards?) so that was exciting. </div>
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We also discovered that certain candy wrappers (like leftover ones from my wedding) actually burst into colorful flames in the campfire. I'm 99% sure that it's not super toxic or cancer causing, so we threw approximately 20 dozen of them into the campfire.<br />
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<i> Can you see the colors?!?</i></div>
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Luckily, we had the lake to ourselves for the entire week until our last day... at which points the hellion-raising neighbor children arrived. Luckily, we had pretty much reached our lake quota at that point... and I was 20% covered in mosquito-welts. <i>Scratch scratch.</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8h49hsjmw8TLa8CfOAUrqLHeIXv9q4DJp0tMrj1Izx6wiw1FSiM_gkAYqqIPIksQJfufudy-sYuNm4WPmD1b5woJtX4THs8XS2waHtCP-av0_2pBQ96EIlZS6u1W1Pou0vpNTjzelUxG6/s1600/Jumping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8h49hsjmw8TLa8CfOAUrqLHeIXv9q4DJp0tMrj1Izx6wiw1FSiM_gkAYqqIPIksQJfufudy-sYuNm4WPmD1b5woJtX4THs8XS2waHtCP-av0_2pBQ96EIlZS6u1W1Pou0vpNTjzelUxG6/s1600/Jumping.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i> Pffft as if I would waste a decent hair day by jumping in the lake.</i></div>
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And last but not least, I think we took my new favorite picture. I can't say it's particularly flattering on my upper arm area, but the sun was so glowy that we literally look airbrushed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BR6TSFGN6L1pOM_yumFgN_1_dgT8TA5JXNMNpVZxBdSEGZMvgElHlEbJ_Ss55ZTw0vsShvhBJpujuYwb0Arhc7JTyc4mKpv7r3gAFOjVl_qjB531gfkF4MLehRwMICT4tnVm1BH6wDOS/s1600/RH+on+Vacation+(719x483).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BR6TSFGN6L1pOM_yumFgN_1_dgT8TA5JXNMNpVZxBdSEGZMvgElHlEbJ_Ss55ZTw0vsShvhBJpujuYwb0Arhc7JTyc4mKpv7r3gAFOjVl_qjB531gfkF4MLehRwMICT4tnVm1BH6wDOS/s1600/RH+on+Vacation+(719x483).jpg" height="428" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />And next time somebody asks me if I want to go to Arkansas in August.... I would probably say yes. So relaxing, I almost forgot we had a 14 hour drive to get our butts home.</div>
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Is it vacation time again? </div>
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(Sad note: NO.)</div>
Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-24676365068473790892014-10-21T20:05:00.003-04:002014-10-21T20:05:49.157-04:0028.So - this past week, I turned the age where I officially have forgotten what age I am. No joke, I've officially answered wrong more times than I've answered correctly.... therefore, I believe I am diagnosed as senile. Or old.<br />
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I have to put it in writing because it won't count otherwise - but this is the last year that I'm allowed to make my own cake. It's time to pass on this own time-honored tradition of <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2009/10/seriously-its-all-about-cake.html">homemade cake and good frosting</a> to my husband, who can one day pass it along to my children.<br />
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Because if I one day birth children who do not grow up to make me homemade cakes with delicious icing... my life is for naught. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Ze6dl1yMOwy52Uomk5KmzW45Fy23pr2KkcJEo_ZX6lnZk5FWLtIwCZ_GLXZY4qEYd4IFZQTUiUaeRry8bRniqTZmE3qOMljDD2L8J-RVPZA67XaQijRdDrtjrbVITvDSvEZYIcEk_X08/s1600/Sarah+Birthday+2014+263.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Ze6dl1yMOwy52Uomk5KmzW45Fy23pr2KkcJEo_ZX6lnZk5FWLtIwCZ_GLXZY4qEYd4IFZQTUiUaeRry8bRniqTZmE3qOMljDD2L8J-RVPZA67XaQijRdDrtjrbVITvDSvEZYIcEk_X08/s1600/Sarah+Birthday+2014+263.JPG" height="320" width="209" /></a></div>
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On another note... what in the eff can I blame my lame cake-frosting skillz on? I'm pretty sure I need to take a class in this ASAP. Cause whoa, bad.<br />
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Maybe next year?<br />
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<br />Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-32972857253850663252014-10-09T09:35:00.001-04:002014-10-09T09:39:48.869-04:00The Paper Anniversary TripAlmost three weeks ago now, Mr. RH and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary! It came and went so damn fast, and that was after the solid 2+ months of agonizing over what would be special enough to celebrate such a lovely (LONG - and yet short!) year of marriage.<br />
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We thought about going to Chicago, where we celebrated our engagement. Then maybe we were sick of Chicago - how about St. Louis, or a trip to IKEA for the wife... for some reason, Mr. RH wasn't into all that. <i>Weird</i>.<br />
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So after much googling, I decided that <i>we</i> would really enjoy a trip to French Lick, Indiana, to the gorgeous and romantic <a href="http://www.frenchlick.com/hotels/westbaden">West Baden Springs Hotel</a>. It's a gorgeous, old historic hotel that's been completely renovated and updated... and we were so excited to check it out.<br />
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Of course, 3.5 hours into our little road trip and a million construction cones later... we were both pretty dang cranky by the time we arrived.<br />
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As soon as we got into the hotel, though, we were both blown away. The hotel encircles the main lobby, which is a giant, domed atrium straight out of a movie set.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBTTTjdmA5ddznmyhcj-D2lh1UpLnaW6XBX97bLX4ZeojMyIunjUsZYNaHRswTnLSZC3gvJqXIPIIfRj9prxPcVrWxZtEbBqkWOWTnZ1pyTslmSM5Z5Lla4SZsSAZ1nhuAEHINx6xTI-xN/s1600/2014-09-17+16.10.29+(600x800).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBTTTjdmA5ddznmyhcj-D2lh1UpLnaW6XBX97bLX4ZeojMyIunjUsZYNaHRswTnLSZC3gvJqXIPIIfRj9prxPcVrWxZtEbBqkWOWTnZ1pyTslmSM5Z5Lla4SZsSAZ1nhuAEHINx6xTI-xN/s1600/2014-09-17+16.10.29+(600x800).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a> </div>
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<i>Fancy shmancy.</i></div>
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I, being the village idiot, decided a room that wasn't overlooking the atrium would be oh-so-much better than the atrium views - because you could overlook the giant property, gardens, etc. FOOL. Those rooms with balconies overlooking the main lobby are where it's at. <i>Sigh</i>, perhaps when we return. <br />
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We took ourselves on a tour around the property, gardens, and read up on the history of the resort. I could literally go into it, cause it was fascinating, but I'll spare you. Needless to say - super cool place, lots of history, almost spooky cause it was very quiet and the place was quite the roaring establishment in the early 1900s.<br />
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Of course, there were many selfies.... (ok, like... maybe 4 all weekend).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyEx5gBCfR5Gf7zC5rGDrRNnbyZpJEvyFtrVyfJ1jobSAubPz45p42QOO8Ou6Jfy3ZdwczP0JegAxS8TqkdjGr__7qBge0gjYZ6sbfK2cm5b1soeZxOlJBLx1a0nTahHGZtOHO2Dwl2FL_/s1600/2014-09-17+16.02.05+(600x800).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyEx5gBCfR5Gf7zC5rGDrRNnbyZpJEvyFtrVyfJ1jobSAubPz45p42QOO8Ou6Jfy3ZdwczP0JegAxS8TqkdjGr__7qBge0gjYZ6sbfK2cm5b1soeZxOlJBLx1a0nTahHGZtOHO2Dwl2FL_/s1600/2014-09-17+16.02.05+(600x800).jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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And I <strike>forced</strike> <strike>tortured</strike> blessed my husband with many requests to smile for a picture. Or not, I basically just snapped away at my pleasure.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2a-38IqCY0CmxWRlTRATME9osBxr1eyP1F5fiWWeUtpDll0ao46Mxq-4R6J-KVdkNU00jLHcagLyjQ8xi9yAq8wXU5D6CZTV3fo3NxjMg_liILesTCGb6__4JGR100R1xG325nfV3isXa/s1600/West+Baden+Anniversary+Trip+2014+009+(800x533).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2a-38IqCY0CmxWRlTRATME9osBxr1eyP1F5fiWWeUtpDll0ao46Mxq-4R6J-KVdkNU00jLHcagLyjQ8xi9yAq8wXU5D6CZTV3fo3NxjMg_liILesTCGb6__4JGR100R1xG325nfV3isXa/s1600/West+Baden+Anniversary+Trip+2014+009+(800x533).jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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And - is it sad that this is one of my highlights of the weekend? - my cute husband snapped a pic of me that's in focus!! On the fancy camera. I have hope that my future children or grandchildren will someday know that I existed in a tangible way. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLeRyQ1z0Ow3zHwNTV6sFcOSE52rRjo-fteadYCLC-qddIAVpM2jOFVty3Z0OOGfezVFOyJLP81MlYfR2qFOeD20VZ9w8KcALALvprxcj2pamn1jPlbyZXAUjOt929htK9pW0Wk47sA8dq/s1600/West+Baden+Anniversary+Trip+2014+025+(800x533).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLeRyQ1z0Ow3zHwNTV6sFcOSE52rRjo-fteadYCLC-qddIAVpM2jOFVty3Z0OOGfezVFOyJLP81MlYfR2qFOeD20VZ9w8KcALALvprxcj2pamn1jPlbyZXAUjOt929htK9pW0Wk47sA8dq/s1600/West+Baden+Anniversary+Trip+2014+025+(800x533).jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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I mean, I may have a slightly bitchy look on my face, but that's mostly because every other pic that my <strike>darling</strike> husband snapped was of my boobs. <i>Cute.</i> Not.<br />
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Of course, time flew and it was time for us to head to the nearby French Lick resort for a fancy-shmancy dinner. Cinderella put on her finest shoes.... my wedding shoes. I was so happy to see them again, although I don't remember them hurting like this last year. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCQ6r5qIRrLVhUYahvcn8_n0cnTPOpq8uwhf60exG99um0P-VGGCJFhjUf5evhB7QcHXwvZe7d0lrJuo-c_K5n7RBK41UwpZlDGvmdS337T-DpUXkhDhCAXy1PTy1Q4WikWlcqGId4Ar5/s1600/2014-09-17+17.47.06+(600x800).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCQ6r5qIRrLVhUYahvcn8_n0cnTPOpq8uwhf60exG99um0P-VGGCJFhjUf5evhB7QcHXwvZe7d0lrJuo-c_K5n7RBK41UwpZlDGvmdS337T-DpUXkhDhCAXy1PTy1Q4WikWlcqGId4Ar5/s1600/2014-09-17+17.47.06+(600x800).jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<i> Apologies for the foot selfie. </i></div>
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I must say - last year I wore the shoes for a few hours every day for about a week leading up to the wedding. It must have worked! <br />
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I dolled myself up extra-fancy and spent forever on my hair and makeup... which I would like to document in this lovely selfie... which I will entitle "Do You Know How Difficult It Is to Selfie in a Strapless Dress Without Looking Nude?"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7yjuW9zywTMks79R8O0iF-v_pR5-OJowEFxilDeA9dwGo_yVWf_s36KfY95xIlW_WPOpo1LvLWc1WMLDZubNgm9iHyZZYXeX99eitr1HiuT86vTOl5_cTUtbq1E7VmaYYY591OU4XuB5/s1600/2014-09-17+17.23.08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7yjuW9zywTMks79R8O0iF-v_pR5-OJowEFxilDeA9dwGo_yVWf_s36KfY95xIlW_WPOpo1LvLWc1WMLDZubNgm9iHyZZYXeX99eitr1HiuT86vTOl5_cTUtbq1E7VmaYYY591OU4XuB5/s1600/2014-09-17+17.23.08.jpg" height="320" width="201" /></a></div>
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<b>Very. Difficult.</b> Hence the lovely background, sorry.</div>
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Two minutes after that lovely photo, the surprise September Summer we are having in Indiana reared it's ugly, humid head, and left me with what you see below. You win some, you lose some. At least my hair looked good last September.</div>
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The property that was bustling with tourist-y types earlier was surprisingly vacant when it came to photo-snapping time, much to my everlasting disappointment. Selfie it is.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdnUUaug_ALKRGeNJuVhYfkT1qEiyhAt6LBbsVXRvi_gaoimOtj2SNDCKO5p85RHkSQmAnyEzaAHCeVwGgwfozZoM-twGXIpQLHbB0P_yvdHDnxl_nnqAwRDNPMVeSHc72UeZ5DoWj-gh/s1600/2014-09-17+17.45.26+(600x800).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdnUUaug_ALKRGeNJuVhYfkT1qEiyhAt6LBbsVXRvi_gaoimOtj2SNDCKO5p85RHkSQmAnyEzaAHCeVwGgwfozZoM-twGXIpQLHbB0P_yvdHDnxl_nnqAwRDNPMVeSHc72UeZ5DoWj-gh/s1600/2014-09-17+17.45.26+(600x800).jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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We went to the adjoining property's "award-winning" steakhouse, which is to say - it was a very fancy hotel, a nice steakhouse, but kinda lacking in ambiance for such a lovely, historic property.</div>
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<ul>
<li> My pork something-or-other was maybe one of the most delicious things I've ever eaten, but things went semi-downhill from there. We had a waiter and another, random attendant... who basically disappeared when they delivered our check. Seriously, we tried to pay the bill for 15 minutes with no luck. There was a place to write our room number in to bill it there, and we eventually did - but I wonder what would have happened if we just walked out. Luckily, we paid.</li>
<li>They brought us chocolate-covered strawberries for our anniversary, which I could barely enjoy because my dress was quite corseted. </li>
<li>They deliver a rose at the end of your meal and I was happy to report that my wedding-day nail polish (Essie's <i>Head Mistress</i>) still matches a red rose quite exactly. I was embarrassed to snap a pic at such a swanky table early in the meal - but after they started ignoring us, I just decided to go for it.</li>
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We returned to our hotel as the sun was setting, and sat in the lobby and soaked it up. There was a lady playing the piano, and maybe a cellist.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinIXeBmAi6kmNdv2awL4LXP5u600ckpIKuWECGHUsdv3_nUs6BMFGfqoU3V1eMIDoBO0mPwi-ee3P4duPq6dAbKWJZFSs0UbzSDmQCZME0RgZPanCRmeq0KIq-d6MUq4DaeOA3TuFJ6x2S/s1600/ANNIVERSARY+(800x640).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinIXeBmAi6kmNdv2awL4LXP5u600ckpIKuWECGHUsdv3_nUs6BMFGfqoU3V1eMIDoBO0mPwi-ee3P4duPq6dAbKWJZFSs0UbzSDmQCZME0RgZPanCRmeq0KIq-d6MUq4DaeOA3TuFJ6x2S/s1600/ANNIVERSARY+(800x640).jpg" height="512" width="640" /></a></div>
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We watched the ceiling do it's swanky thing, which totally explained the abundance of chaise lounges in the place. We sat in chairs and were totally, awkwardly bent staring at the ceiling... like most everyone else in the place.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs8JtA7IK691bA0xC9lKIeMrzT1KUUegZqj-7zxiGJJWqtgHXCorgj_4lQGitnVIlwsrYZPNdVsvR8-VBqA57XzcQWxfqoOU9cCasK8RbMTo0sJyrvb21a99sFCLMhMS7e-7v6emYyLSMG/s1600/West+Baden+Anniversary+Trip+2014+074+(533x800).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs8JtA7IK691bA0xC9lKIeMrzT1KUUegZqj-7zxiGJJWqtgHXCorgj_4lQGitnVIlwsrYZPNdVsvR8-VBqA57XzcQWxfqoOU9cCasK8RbMTo0sJyrvb21a99sFCLMhMS7e-7v6emYyLSMG/s1600/West+Baden+Anniversary+Trip+2014+074+(533x800).jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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I am still kicking myself for not going through with my original "paper anniversary" plan of hiring a local photographer to do a little mini-session on the gorgeous grounds of the hotel. Cause that would have been AMAZING, no?<br />
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And... photos can be printed on paper, which would satisfy the paper anniversary requirement, no? Luckily, we snagged some postcards of the hotel - done.<br />
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The question remains - do I want to come back with my husband?.... or would this make an even better place to meet some girlfriends for the weekend? Cause I know they would really appreciate my photo-shooting ways. And the gorgeous spa.Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-18568486539481137452014-10-07T07:30:00.000-04:002014-10-07T18:06:50.353-04:00Get Yo Craft On. Twice, Maybe Thrice.We're gonna skip over the fact that I've dropped off of the blog planet and just act like I dropped off in the middle of a paragraph, ok?<br />
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And GO:<br />
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Way back a thousand years ago, when I was a young(er) newlywed and was consumed with creating The Perfect Home (bwahahahahaha) for my groom, I saw a craft on Pinterest and damn if I didn't want a piece of that action.<br />
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The original pic (below) has been re-posted and pinned a ton, and the original "post" I found links back to pinterest, so SOMEBODY out there came up with this genius idea. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXodeKw7r-389_uEwlONQkN1cz2D4D3eyjv_IznBENcCJ-oAeuW_ebkRUbM4i4qFG38Cca-ZcUcqE3nioa9gErvCbUGZ9rCMrwwoeESMJriTj00dIXwgwaxcvicqKgrO1Cq1_-4t4GBGxc/s1600/Heart+Canvas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXodeKw7r-389_uEwlONQkN1cz2D4D3eyjv_IznBENcCJ-oAeuW_ebkRUbM4i4qFG38Cca-ZcUcqE3nioa9gErvCbUGZ9rCMrwwoeESMJriTj00dIXwgwaxcvicqKgrO1Cq1_-4t4GBGxc/s1600/Heart+Canvas.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></a></div>
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I think, PERFECT, I can totally make that happen. Cue act 1. That started in FEBRUARY. As in, 9 months ago.<br />
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If you are interested in killing yourself slowly, you can find buttons at JoAnn Fabrics, but, in my case, not Hobby Lobby. They don't sell bulk packs. (See, now you can say a blog taught you something today!)<br />
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I was proud because the start of this project was going so smoothly. When it got to shaping the perfect heart, I very lightly traced out a heart... and then effed it the heck up.<br />
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I still can't figure out how it looked pretty before I started filling in the buttons... and then not pretty. It was wonky. Lopsided. SAD.<br />
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Now, 9 months later.... I'm not sure it really looked that bad. It looks symmetrical-enough to me...<br />
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And then, I re-did the damn thing last month. This time, with 2 layers of buttons. <br />
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Guess what? I broke my iPhone's camera (unrelated except for the horrible quality of this pic) AAAAND I still hate the damn heart. Hate hate loathe.<br />
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In pictures I feel like I'm over-reacting... but in person, <i>NOPE.</i><br />
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So now I'm debating if I want to start over AGAIN.<br />
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But I almost can't bear to rip it all off and re-start. So instead it's been sitting on various tables around my house making my husband consider divorce. <br />
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Which is completely irrational. Which I'm fairly sure is what he would say re-doing a craft project 3 times is... but then again, some would say it's art and you can't rush a masterpiece.<br />
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And masterpiece is loosely translated into "copying something from Pinterest."<br />
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The End.<br />
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Soo... start over? I think the original picture shows they have a burlap/fabric heart underneath the buttons, which would TOTALLY help my wonky-heart problem.... except then I would have 4 wonky fabric hearts and have to choose one of them. <b>Paralyzing.</b><br />
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I've missed it around here. Let's meet again soon, shall we?<br />
<br />Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-57224390950633065612014-09-21T09:23:00.002-04:002014-09-21T09:24:31.683-04:00#SBwed: 1 Year<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsLYTZvfKw8GLAOmZXrcxNtj4KazxZxHf65MjEbSHiEpJpLkHKHFupEGUpn5nAAzGAxBw5liilUBt5a6TD0lH-LA_Bq8DjMYTs67quYqOJpQ4Jtsn5eUAqsYekAPgMnlbHUv0YV6IAaRL/s1600/SB+Wed.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsLYTZvfKw8GLAOmZXrcxNtj4KazxZxHf65MjEbSHiEpJpLkHKHFupEGUpn5nAAzGAxBw5liilUBt5a6TD0lH-LA_Bq8DjMYTs67quYqOJpQ4Jtsn5eUAqsYekAPgMnlbHUv0YV6IAaRL/s400/SB+Wed.png" height="400" width="396" /></a></div>
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Ahhhh. I've had a couple of posts in draft for weeks, but I honestly haven't even been able to post them because this post has been in the back of my mind, taunting me. How can I wrap up the first 365 days of marriage in a neat little bow? <br />
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Well, I'm not sure I can.<br />
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Is marriage exactly what I expected on September 20th of last year? Heck no.<br />
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Am I exactly the same person I was on September 21st of last year? Definitely not.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjo3R5hLQJrU2Ulsp60iIb2AE28mFBxHwIjx0gurVCh1D3pcGLDOATlegAbzgtbcSBAPF3d5g4hW2CmgHpB3TiQd5cFg4plSAT-4yhZgbfHncwuAdOn893L3TOfOaViKxCKmZMw29PDNAZ/s1600/RH+Wedding11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjo3R5hLQJrU2Ulsp60iIb2AE28mFBxHwIjx0gurVCh1D3pcGLDOATlegAbzgtbcSBAPF3d5g4hW2CmgHpB3TiQd5cFg4plSAT-4yhZgbfHncwuAdOn893L3TOfOaViKxCKmZMw29PDNAZ/s1600/RH+Wedding11.jpg" height="430" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>For starters, I can't recall the last time I dolled myself up like this! </i></div>
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Marriage has been a study in contrasts. </div>
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Prior to today, I can't recall being so angry at someone and then SO happy to see a smile cross his face. (When I'm angry, I try to tell him to NOT look at me, because I hate to lose all that righteous indignation with one grin!)</div>
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Poor Mr. RH has learned a LOT about his new bride: like the fact that the most type-A among us could call her a slob, even though she's <i>never</i> dirty. She will lose her damn mind if you leave a dish in the sink. Don't touch her kindle or she will wreck you. She will also flip out if you use her toothbrush, even accidentally! No, she's not just relieved that you brushed your teeth. Ick, gross. She cries for no reason.... sometimes, even because she feels like crying. She will eat slices of cheese for dinner and can't possibly understand the problem with that. She thinks it's OK to skip washing your hair for days on end if it looks good. <i>DEAL WITH IT.</i></div>
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I'm sorry, I feel like that was a tangent. </div>
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Marriage. It's really effing hard, but it makes me laugh SO much harder than I've ever laughed. It's a doozy, but one I would repeat a hundred times again - but only with the right guy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdW8Kolb6z_IcdfX4-h97zlAbEzIrZRjBikbpuv46fiGdaoXqz8TF-FEZtj3EMRgTuVOQl2L9w-eRH_6fPEDx4h0USeCapui8s1Ajj9arU9hnXw0nQSnUx3pUnX16WYUYAeFTIMN7jO71/s1600/RHwedding4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdW8Kolb6z_IcdfX4-h97zlAbEzIrZRjBikbpuv46fiGdaoXqz8TF-FEZtj3EMRgTuVOQl2L9w-eRH_6fPEDx4h0USeCapui8s1Ajj9arU9hnXw0nQSnUx3pUnX16WYUYAeFTIMN7jO71/s1600/RHwedding4.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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Happy Anniversary, Mr. RH! If I knew how great our lives together were going to turn out when I met you shopping for cologne, I for sure wouldn't have tried to pass you off onto my coworker.<br />
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Love you.</div>
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Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-6782436447700011292014-09-11T08:06:00.000-04:002014-09-11T08:06:51.260-04:00USA<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"The human spirit is not measured by the size of the act, but by the size of the heart." </i></div>
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<i><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABf_k4v5iKfrqLdrrrdcDwoMym0Db2s0dTkd9Pnjt76EuAQ4ryr2FQFKIA2GrG0QGiJRqPdVh5Jy1xBR-H_Z7Lm5X6Mzy3wmgICwJ8uD4RZqfGv6DabNkzq6uPOqsdYvCtJwV_WaanYg/s1600-h/NYC3.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABf_k4v5iKfrqLdrrrdcDwoMym0Db2s0dTkd9Pnjt76EuAQ4ryr2FQFKIA2GrG0QGiJRqPdVh5Jy1xBR-H_Z7Lm5X6Mzy3wmgICwJ8uD4RZqfGv6DabNkzq6uPOqsdYvCtJwV_WaanYg/s320/NYC3.jpg" height="400" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243353811094582802" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="300" /></a></i></i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABf_k4v5iKfrqLdrrrdcDwoMym0Db2s0dTkd9Pnjt76EuAQ4ryr2FQFKIA2GrG0QGiJRqPdVh5Jy1xBR-H_Z7Lm5X6Mzy3wmgICwJ8uD4RZqfGv6DabNkzq6uPOqsdYvCtJwV_WaanYg/s1600-h/NYC3.jpg"></a>Photo from Ground Zero, 2002<i><br /></i></div>
Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-36740303224699061842014-08-28T05:30:00.000-04:002014-08-28T05:30:01.215-04:00Ikea Tarva HackWaaay back in April, <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2014/06/ikea-or-bust.html">my BFF's and I journeyed to Ohio on an IKEA pilgrimage</a> and I had been planning a little "Ikea hack" ever since.<br />
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I bought an <a href="http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/10221421/">Ikea Tarva dresser</a> with the intention of turning it into a grand hutch for our kitchen... but of course the practicality of hacking a giant hutch with no construction experience..... yeah, no.<br />
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After I stared at the boxes for a solid month... my dad and I put it together with a minimum of swearing.<br />
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The first thing we noticed, which you can see in the picture below, is that the drawers are ever-so-slightly wonky. Like... the gap in the middle of the 2 sets of drawers are just off.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4xpSeYZLYg48S4U_hmc7nUZkUvVufNfF0Eg_dSpgd0LdHebparkfblWpUQsyuVdUA49oq-x5kTyfSekLNJl917QoAeDYH0g6ow_VNcN7nbs2pT_xmhnOPRlyCvu3XxsShLwR-yCeS52V/s1600/2014-05-26+12.22.46+(800x499).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4xpSeYZLYg48S4U_hmc7nUZkUvVufNfF0Eg_dSpgd0LdHebparkfblWpUQsyuVdUA49oq-x5kTyfSekLNJl917QoAeDYH0g6ow_VNcN7nbs2pT_xmhnOPRlyCvu3XxsShLwR-yCeS52V/s1600/2014-05-26+12.22.46+(800x499).jpg" height="398" width="640" /></a><br />
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My dad, handyman extraordinaire, determines that this will ruin my whole project. I am not deterred.<br />
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So we get to cutting out some trim to snazz the Tarva up.<br />
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Many hours later (like 3), things are looking good. <br />
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We get the whole piece trimmed out, including the sides. And miraculously, the trim seems to have magically evened everything out. No weird gaps, it looks pretty perfect.<br />
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Miracles do happen! Even IKEA miracles.<br />
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Four layers of stain, 3 layers of paint, and approximately 8 layers of polyurethane later... things were starting to get real.<br />
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Hallelujah! Hallelujah!! The only thing better than dreaming up an Ikea project is FINISHING it. <br />
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It's not so much a "kitchen hutch" as I had planned... but it's actually holding overflow baking supplies, and I just loooove to kick my shoes off underneath it after a long day. Which is really classy and totally Pinterest-worthy. <br />
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Bam. Nothing like a good transformation to make me want to do it all again!<br />
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Now... I can't understand why my husband doesn't want to make an Ikea trip and start on another project together.<br />
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I mean.... it looks pretty amazing, right? We won't go into some of the "little tweaks" I want to make to it. Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-51586735957897065042014-08-21T08:54:00.000-04:002014-08-21T08:55:47.781-04:00#SBwed: Month 11<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsLYTZvfKw8GLAOmZXrcxNtj4KazxZxHf65MjEbSHiEpJpLkHKHFupEGUpn5nAAzGAxBw5liilUBt5a6TD0lH-LA_Bq8DjMYTs67quYqOJpQ4Jtsn5eUAqsYekAPgMnlbHUv0YV6IAaRL/s1600/SB+Wed.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsLYTZvfKw8GLAOmZXrcxNtj4KazxZxHf65MjEbSHiEpJpLkHKHFupEGUpn5nAAzGAxBw5liilUBt5a6TD0lH-LA_Bq8DjMYTs67quYqOJpQ4Jtsn5eUAqsYekAPgMnlbHUv0YV6IAaRL/s400/SB+Wed.png" height="400" width="396" /></a></div>
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So - I'm only posting this 2 weeks after my last update, because blogging when it's warm outside is hard, but - it's been a really fun couple of weeks!<br />
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Highs<br />
<ul>
<li>We just got back form over a week away with my
family... we drove from Indy to Hot Springs, Arkansas for a little
R&R on a lake. It. was. fabulous.</li>
<li>Spending a lot of time in the sun while enjoying a wonderful break in the heat/humidity of the south. </li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBd5CoiyKOdeVGOV3iZsLZNNlks7l56bMWcp66eB6hpze34Ey30EaeX3dZGiL7ZwIkCRKRJx8b9NtK4k7J7Q6HSGGaZQAE64zyF9DP6Yy_cAgVh2bI98jvpQPnTfUN17j4FnmKilzlgarM/s1600/RH+on+Vacation+2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBd5CoiyKOdeVGOV3iZsLZNNlks7l56bMWcp66eB6hpze34Ey30EaeX3dZGiL7ZwIkCRKRJx8b9NtK4k7J7Q6HSGGaZQAE64zyF9DP6Yy_cAgVh2bI98jvpQPnTfUN17j4FnmKilzlgarM/s1600/RH+on+Vacation+2.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>Finally getting a little summer tan. This has nothing to do with Mr. RH, but I was just excited about it. Ahh, summer.</li>
<li>It's been a happy month, marriage-wise. It's amazing how you think you know someone, you get married and move in together, and then you learn SO much more. Kinda crazy.</li>
<li>(Yes, I'm becoming deep and wise as an 11-month marriage veteran.) (Wax on, wax off.)</li>
<li>Even though we've had a fun, splurge-y month or two - we got a student loan paid off. Sacrificing my Target once and a while actually pays off. :)</li>
</ul>
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Lows<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Spending 12 hours in the car. Depending on which mapquest/google map/GPS/atlas you used - the drive was anywhere from 9-12 hours. And on the way home, it was definitely 12 hours. #WOOF</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHRcka1dTcKrRoo_vmAUKCkPXriljwotwubPOHXPfIQbkCI7nIai7otMBDw90dqNWlqByqDMicmr-i0c-aifc5QyhPS8_kvdNtqmGx10m1_BaxS-ye_3EJvY7n1rP-OAQu-0JdbBGhdpE/s1600/Map.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHRcka1dTcKrRoo_vmAUKCkPXriljwotwubPOHXPfIQbkCI7nIai7otMBDw90dqNWlqByqDMicmr-i0c-aifc5QyhPS8_kvdNtqmGx10m1_BaxS-ye_3EJvY7n1rP-OAQu-0JdbBGhdpE/s1600/Map.png" height="273" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>Getting used to a long vacation of eating and boozing and relaxing makes it that much harder to get back to reality. </li>
<li><span style="color: #0000ee;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><span style="color: black;">Unlike our Michigan vacation last month, THERE WAS NO ICE CREAM. I mean, at least if I'm going to eat like crap, let me eat like crap in a delicious fashion, please?</span> </span></span></span></li>
</ul>
Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-74369427852427390662014-08-06T08:44:00.001-04:002014-08-06T08:44:22.090-04:00Introducing Miss MaevenI know that there's been nothing but radio silence around here lately... but an occasion this big deserves a post!<br />
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What I <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2013/10/sbwed-month-1.html">only briefly mentioned 10 months ago </a>was that 2 weeks after my wedding, one of the other BFFs in our core group got married. <br />
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It was exactly 2 weeks after my wedding day, on a day completely and totally different than mine - it was 80 degrees and pouring rain - the girl directly to my right got married! It was beautiful and SO much fun, and, <a href="http://inmyblondelife.blogspot.com/2013/10/sbwed-month-1.html">as I mentioned before</a>, I danced my ass off. <br />
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Ahhh, how things were different 10 months ago!<br />
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She has been enjoying her newlywedded life since then, and we were so thrilled last Friday when she brought us all the newest love of our life: Maeven, a tiny new bundle of joy.<br />
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We were so lucky because Miss Mae's appearance coincided perfectly with a time when all of the BFFs were going to be together. So perfect! <br />
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It was lovely to get time for each of us to snuggle the tiny, perfect bundle. <br />
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And then, after a few tears, she passed out on my chest for an hour. It was <i>definitely</i> the best hour of my week. <br />
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Is there anything more perfect than a fresh, new baby? Yes, the smell of that baby's sweet head, which I could smell all morning the next day.<br />
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Le sigh. I think I have <i>The Fever</i>. Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-43419536072914630542014-07-21T09:29:00.000-04:002014-08-08T10:07:12.842-04:00#SBwed: Month 10<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsLYTZvfKw8GLAOmZXrcxNtj4KazxZxHf65MjEbSHiEpJpLkHKHFupEGUpn5nAAzGAxBw5liilUBt5a6TD0lH-LA_Bq8DjMYTs67quYqOJpQ4Jtsn5eUAqsYekAPgMnlbHUv0YV6IAaRL/s1600/SB+Wed.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsLYTZvfKw8GLAOmZXrcxNtj4KazxZxHf65MjEbSHiEpJpLkHKHFupEGUpn5nAAzGAxBw5liilUBt5a6TD0lH-LA_Bq8DjMYTs67quYqOJpQ4Jtsn5eUAqsYekAPgMnlbHUv0YV6IAaRL/s400/SB+Wed.png" height="400" width="396" /></a></div>
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I mean... let's just ignore the fact that this is 3 weeks late. AKA we are closer to month 11 than month 10. <i>WHATEVER.</i><br />
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Highs<br />
<ul>
<li>The weather is warm! Sun is shining! And yet... it's been weirdly cold. Like - we've had multiple days this month that we can open the windows until at least noon because it's so chilly.</li>
<li>RH family vacation! This technically happened just past the 10 month mark, but we are so boring that I'm putting it on this month. We went with the RH family up to South Haven, Michigan for a couple of days at the end of July. The weather was chilly, so the beach wasn't SO fun (more like SO cold) - but it was perfect weather for strolling and hanging out. </li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li>Spending quality time with the RH family. They all live within an hour or so from us, but it's hard to get the gang together. It was nice to relax and unwind with no agenda.</li>
<li>Vacation food. Which, on this particular vacation, was ICE CREAM. Mr. RH is typically not ice cream's biggest fan, but he had a change of heart on this vacation. Praise the Lord. See the blueberry ice cream below. #yum</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglPURH4R3NER5Mcc_PWKFcJ1yD7-FqDT8Ey-xwAmKrhtKOivZmw6OcxlWj0ChwKSXxUo9_zuISSxRvHkurZHr2_6epnBD5X0cZn8ke42oeHsqoCYyJIzZUx59amZ4ms0kzWQYe0fzZcQPP/s1600/RH+Vacation+3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglPURH4R3NER5Mcc_PWKFcJ1yD7-FqDT8Ey-xwAmKrhtKOivZmw6OcxlWj0ChwKSXxUo9_zuISSxRvHkurZHr2_6epnBD5X0cZn8ke42oeHsqoCYyJIzZUx59amZ4ms0kzWQYe0fzZcQPP/s1600/RH+Vacation+3.jpg" height="320" width="242" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>If you are ever in South Haven, MI, you MUST divert yourself from the beach to head to Sherman's Ice Cream. Yes, it's located on the side of the highway, but it's literally the best ice cream I've ever had in my life. DO IT. </li>
</ul>
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<br />
Lows<br />
<ul>
<li>Vacation with 18 people. Do you know how hard it is to find restaurants for 18 people? Cause it's WAY hard. We had a few disastrous incidents on the trip, but overall it was SO fun. Totally worth it!</li>
<li>Detoxing from vacation food. I love a good salad but eating like a bird blows. Know what else blows? The fact that My Fitness Pal says my husband can eat TWICE as many calories as me in one day. Asshole.</li>
<li>Why isn't every day vacation? </li>
</ul>
<br />Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-13790322925939924732014-07-17T10:31:00.000-04:002014-07-17T10:31:11.389-04:00It's Been a Big MonthSo, remember how I swore I was back to blogging and then I wasn't?! Hahaha, fun times.<br />
<br />
Luckily, I have a fun little story (that played out on twitter also, so sorry for the repeats) that happened yesterday, and I just couldn't not share it.<br />
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On Tuesday, I was headed to the salon for a little refresh on my highlights when I decided I needed a change. Mostly because I wear a ponytail every.single.day and everybody was sick of seeing it.<br />
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So I texted my husband - can I pull this off??<br />
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Obviously, I wasn't going to just ask him because his replies were basically - "who is this person?" "Yeah, cut your hair if you feel like it. I'm sure it'll be fine." So, I tweeted about it. All "I'm nervous, should I chop my hair?"<br />
<br />So, I listened to twitter, and chop chop chop. It wasn't too drastic of a cut, but there's a definite difference. The next morning, I put on my most-nude lipstick (it's not very nude) and attempted my best Caroline Stanbury selfie. <br />
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And despite my pledge to be mostly-selfie-less on Instagram... I totally posted it. I'm occasionally allowed to indulge, yes?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Gf7LP_ibzml1pEmoK6Ulvwf_v7Q4z9R3gmAEGrytR5EdsmLjbeRhwd-do-_7I2j6J46o1QWWM30GaKwN4N3KIUQ9dMtoa2BFTB1vbyOnl4_bknRvejLkQEgviJCSfL3YD_Uhpbq8Dufo/s1600/2014-07-16+08.15.26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Gf7LP_ibzml1pEmoK6Ulvwf_v7Q4z9R3gmAEGrytR5EdsmLjbeRhwd-do-_7I2j6J46o1QWWM30GaKwN4N3KIUQ9dMtoa2BFTB1vbyOnl4_bknRvejLkQEgviJCSfL3YD_Uhpbq8Dufo/s1600/2014-07-16+08.15.26.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Despite the weird-ass look on my face (because I of course posted the outtake instead of the happier-looking photo), I was happy cause everyone was all "great hair" and that's not a compliment I get too often, so I take what I can get. <br />
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A couple of hours later, <a href="http://www.whittheheck.blogspot.com/">Whitney</a> tagged Caroline in the photo... and lo and behold, 20 minutes later, Caroline herself posted a compliment on the photo.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNjXFFcisYOJdwaGGz7azJT33x281gdRFTT9HuHnWbPa9067JbiKH1rmu4pURbGW2KMgKnQLTxl7shmQommKTUceWCGicU3xy0BZsfUmkkSFIHqEvMF5Z7XQy0R5Z78KcT4qd2hZNe9ryn/s1600/2014-07-16+20.57.19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNjXFFcisYOJdwaGGz7azJT33x281gdRFTT9HuHnWbPa9067JbiKH1rmu4pURbGW2KMgKnQLTxl7shmQommKTUceWCGicU3xy0BZsfUmkkSFIHqEvMF5Z7XQy0R5Z78KcT4qd2hZNe9ryn/s1600/2014-07-16+20.57.19.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
A compliment from one of my favorite Ladies of London?! Geesh, this whole social media thing just keeps getting better and better!<br />
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July 2014 - probably going to be the height of my social media career, yes?Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-19992551372365201662014-07-08T07:58:00.000-04:002014-07-08T08:01:00.730-04:00My 15 MinutesJust wanted to take a quick minute to document one of the highlights (or lowlights?) of my involvement in social media. (Do I sound like a loser? Don't answer that.)<br />
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On Wednesday, June 25th, I was just hanging out and watching the Today Show, as often happens in the morning when my husband is sleeping.<br />
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Lo and behold, 25 minutes into the show, my face pops up on the screen. I'm not sure I even reacted because I was so confused.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3cJ-4BNNJg5wm8xLo1NjZ9SMUZ46lp85a6HJ84IAiFi4ekZHL53sXeYATpDhuAv-4lBNBGmUO1ug_hWaPOZtU33vObo2Aj28V-LpR02wvbjPsBpwDhlCwxoFCUlxoNjpNkZ5IBiFinyQ/s1600/TodayShow+Tweet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3cJ-4BNNJg5wm8xLo1NjZ9SMUZ46lp85a6HJ84IAiFi4ekZHL53sXeYATpDhuAv-4lBNBGmUO1ug_hWaPOZtU33vObo2Aj28V-LpR02wvbjPsBpwDhlCwxoFCUlxoNjpNkZ5IBiFinyQ/s1600/TodayShow+Tweet.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Yep, I got my tweet read on the Today Show because I tweeted about the family who attempted to scam KFC for money for a little girl's medical expenses.<br />
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To be clear, I have nothing but pity for the sweet little girl.... however, I have nothing but disrespect for her family.<br />
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I can only imagine how much trouble all the employees were in that were accused of discriminating against the sweet girl. I'm fairly sure that all of the minimum-wage workers who work in that location were probably in fear of losing their jobs over something that never even happened. <i>Raaaage.</i><br />
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Yep, my 15 minutes of fame. Me and KFC.<br />
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Classic.Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7444897551318265393.post-14294155613103210352014-06-21T06:46:00.000-04:002014-08-08T09:29:21.796-04:00#SBwed: Month 9 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsLYTZvfKw8GLAOmZXrcxNtj4KazxZxHf65MjEbSHiEpJpLkHKHFupEGUpn5nAAzGAxBw5liilUBt5a6TD0lH-LA_Bq8DjMYTs67quYqOJpQ4Jtsn5eUAqsYekAPgMnlbHUv0YV6IAaRL/s1600/SB+Wed.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsLYTZvfKw8GLAOmZXrcxNtj4KazxZxHf65MjEbSHiEpJpLkHKHFupEGUpn5nAAzGAxBw5liilUBt5a6TD0lH-LA_Bq8DjMYTs67quYqOJpQ4Jtsn5eUAqsYekAPgMnlbHUv0YV6IAaRL/s400/SB+Wed.png" height="400" width="396" /></a></div>
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Highs<br />
<ul>
<li>Son of a monkey, this month went too dang fast. Which is good and bad, I guess? I'm starting to feel guilty because we have been SO terrible at documenting the days and months making up our first year of marriage. The days are short, the years are long, and I don't have really any pictures of either. #BloggerFail </li>
<li>Mr. RH turned 25, once again reminding me that I robbed the cradle. The next few months before my birthday in October are my favorite - because we are closer in age so therefore I feel young. Right. Exactly. </li>
</ul>
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<li> Eating a rainbow birthday cake like it's my job.</li>
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Lows<br />
<ul>
<li> The onset of warmer weather has brought the onset of hotter tempers in our house. For about a week after it got warm, I think we argued about everything from how high the air conditioner should be cranked, what time each of us individually should be going to bed, what we were eating for any given meal... and on and on! Luckily, our tempers seem to have adjusted to the warmer temps. </li>
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Classy Fab Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00657528206098219881noreply@blogger.com2