how to be boring

I’m in a serious, committed relationship with my nail polish. We’ve been together for three weeks now, and I’m not seeing an end in sight. I’m starting to forget what life was like before we found each other. Did I really ever wear black nail polish? (I did.)

Screen shot 2013-05-29 at 11.14.24 PM

a bad picture of the infamous nail polish

Before I met my nail polish soul mate, I was stuck on navy. Before then, it was red. But now that I’ve found this color, I feel like we can grow old together. I will see my husband graduate from college while wearing this nail polish. I will rock my firstborn to sleep while wearing this nail polish. Am I getting carried away here? You see, I don’t really know how to like things as much as I know how to love them, and once I find something I love, I tend to stick with it. I am not really adventurous when it comes to… anything. My closet is filled with black and white striped shirts, so I look like a cartoon character when I’m getting dressed in the morning:

Screen shot 2013-05-29 at 11.23.57 PM

My style is really predictable, and it has been for the last five years or so. My family teases me about dressing like a grandpa, and Tyson always says that he wishes I would add some color into my wardrobe. In an attempt to do so, I bought a shirt with neon pink polka dots yesterday. I’m still sort of torn about it, mostly because it looks really out of place in my closet, like it’s drowning in a sea of different shades of gray. I know I’m kind of boring, but if loving striped shirts and nude nail polish is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.

funfetti cookies make me feel nostalgic

As I type this, Tyson is napping on the futon and I am trying to be quiet. Of course that’s when I end up being the loudest, dropping my phone here, knocking over a chair there. I instantly look over to see if Tyson is still asleep. He is.

I am now just realizing that we never had dinner today. We had lunch when we got home from church, made some funfetti cookies around 4 and haven’t eaten since. Whenever something like this happens, which is more often than I like to admit, I say to myself, “This means I’ve just started this new diet where I don’t eat past 7 pm because it’s bad for my metabolism.. or something.” I’m okay for a few hours, but come 10 pm, I am starving. I don’t just need a snack, I need real food, and I need it now! Then I eat the world because what else are you supposed to do when you haven’t eaten for hours? I have a feeling I might get to that point earlier than 10 pm today.

Screen shot 2013-05-26 at 8.58.37 PM(white cake mix + sprinkles = funfetti!)

After eating those funfetti cookies, Tyson fell into a bit of a sugar coma and took a nap on me. My phone was at 29% battery or something dangerously low, so I didn’t dare play Candy Crush. I tried to nap, but it was too warm, so I decided to just lay there, being Tyson’s pillow. After about an hour of thinking deep thoughts, like how I should ombre my hair again, I had to go to the bathroom, so I shifted, slid, and was finally able to lay Tyson on the futon without waking him up. After I came back from the bathroom, I realized that there was now no room for me on the futon, so I migrated to the kitchen, where my laptop was calling to me. I wanted to go on Pinterest, but something within me said, “Write. You’re going to want to remember this.”

I sighed after having this thought. My life has been feeling hard lately, and I thought, which part of this am I going to want to remember? It’s hard to think of a time when our life will not be what it is now, but I know that that time will come. There are years to age, degrees to receive, miles to travel, babies to have. And here I am, sitting on the very edge of it, thinking, when will my life ever change? Time will pass and my life will change, just like it always has. And I will find myself yearning for the past, just like I always do. So here’s what I want to remember from this time in our lives:

I want to remember the little Chinese food place that we frequent and the look the waiters give me when I ask for lemon to put on my fried rice. I want to remember overhearing Tyson set up hometeaching appointments because it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. I want to remember waking up in the middle of the night and sliding up closer to Tyson so I can feel safe and protected. I want to remember how glorious Saturday mornings feel when you wake up at 10 am and realize that you have nowhere to go and nothing to do, and that means that you can go anywhere and do anything. Mostly, I want to remember that there was a time when it felt like all we had was each other, faith in the future, and some terribly big dreams. And that was enough.

Tyson just woke up for about twenty seconds, looked around really confused, and then went back to sleep. His nap might have just turned into sleeping through the night. Until I figure out what a good dinner for one would be, another funfetti cookie won’t hurt, right?

arrested development

We had a little Arrested Development party today. And by party, I really mean that Tyson and I ate microwaved leftovers and watched the story of a wealthy family who lost everything, and the one son who had no choice but to keep them all together.

Tyson and I don’t share a lot of the same interests, but we pretty much always agree when it comes to TV shows. We have been marathon TV watchers since we first started dating, and Arrested Development was one of those shows that we watched together from start to finish. When we first moved to Logan, we had just finished watching Community and Parenthood, and were at a loss as to what we would do until fall TV came back. I had heard good things about Arrested Development, so we decided to give it a try, and we both ended up loving it. We were really excited when we found out that a new season was coming out on Netflix, but I kind of feel like we’re cheating. Most Arrested Development fans had to wait a decade to get a new season, and here we are, brand new fans, we just get a new season without having to work or wait for it.

We’re waiting until Monday to watch, so please:

4eNUuLV

Now, if Netflix would just bring Gilmore Girls back…

an exercise in confidence

Disclaimer: This post is mostly about my hair.

Yesterday, we went to Cafe Rio for dinner because Taco Tuesday only comes around once a week. When we walked in, there was a group of about three girls standing by the door. One of the girls was wearing cheetah pants and a floral headband. I marveled at how brave she was, mixing prints together like that. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy topknot. I instantly had major topknot envy. I don’t know if it’s because my hair is curly and thin, but when I pile my hair on top of my head like that, it ends up looking like a pathetic little cinnamon roll. Tyson and I theorized about how she made her hair look like that. She must have her own personal Joey (Rachel Zoe’s hair and makeup person). It’s the only thing that makes sense.

rachel-zoe-project-joey-maalouf

This morning, I tried to recreate the topknot that I had witnessed the day before. By noon, my head was throbbing and I couldn’t take the topknot any longer. I undid it and opted for a Katniss Everdeen french braid instead. I sighed as I undid my hair; life must be so easy when your hair is perfect.

I thought back to some months ago when I applied for a job that I really wanted and didn’t get. In my follow-up meeting, one of my interviewers told me, “We wish you’d been more confident.” I do too. All I really know about confidence is that some people have it and I don’t. Cheeta-clad Cafe Rio girl had it. Maybe her topknot is held up by confidence and self-esteem.

So what comes first, the perfect hair or the confidence? I don’t know. For now, I guess I will just have to watch youtube tutorials and practice the topknot. Or maybe Tyson can be my Joey. Either way, topknot perfection, I am coming for you.

Screen shot 2013-05-22 at 11.57.24 PMConfidence, I’m coming for you too.

gatsby and the rain

We thought we would enjoy some more sunshine this weekend, but it actually ended up raining every day. I was  worried that this would mean that the farmers market scheduled for Saturday morning would get cancelled, but we showed up to a full house. People are pretty serious about their fresh produce here.

I’m pretty serious about my baked goods. When I asked about a peanut butter and chocolate cookie, the lady that had baked them said that there were no hydrogenated oils in her cookies. I was like “Woman please, what kind of girl do you take me for? I will take those hydrogenated oils as long as they taste good.” (I didn’t actually say that. I dont’ even know what hydrogenated oils are.) Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from homemade cookies, hydrogenated oils or not.

After the farmers market and a quick nap, we went to a matinee showing of The Great Gatbsy. The Great Gatsby is one of my favorite, favorite books. I’m still trying to figure out if naming my firstborn Fitzgerald Daun would be too much (maybe as a middle name?). Needless to say, I had great expectations. I was so disappointed by this adaptation that even buying a striped maxi skirt only cheered me up for about fifteen minutes. Poor Tyson had to listen to me complain for the rest of the day about how Tobey Maguire is no Nick Carraway and Leonardo Dicaprio is no Jay Gatsby.

Screen shot 2013-05-19 at 10.08.20 PMAnyway, my polka dot umbrella got some good use this weekend, but it was kind of useless because this is what happens when my hair is around moisture:

Screen shot 2013-05-19 at 10.08.30 PM

#curlyhairproblems

Monday, please be kind.