Fashion Victim: An Introduction and a Hatisor

    Since I have begun writing this blog, I have started taking pictures of individuals who break the cardinal rules of fashion while hoping to share these great sins with my readers.  In the future, I hope to introduce a new fashion victim and possibly give you a little fashion sense.  First, I must define what a fashion victim is.  According to wikipedia, the term "fashion victim" was coined by the great fashion designer Oscar de la Renta and defines a person who is unable to identify commonly recognized boundaries of style.  For a simple example, an individual who wears a black belt with brown shoes would be a fashion victim.  Anyone who follows the guidelines of style or just wears clothes in general should know this unspoken rule.  Of course, it is obviously spoken of in our household.  Maya would never go out without matching her collar to her harness!
    When it comes down to it, I hope to prevent breaking the fashion laws instead of policing them.  I'm not the type of person to go up to someone and tell them that their belt and shoes don't match, but I can stop you, as my reader, from committing these acts in the future.  Please allow me to introduce you to our first victim (drum roll):

A tourist in NYC

    Although there is much to be said about the plaid outfit, tall socks, and tennis shoes, I shall focus my time on the thing attached to her head.  First of all, I believe this item to be a hatisor which happens when you breed a hat with a visor.  Second of all, the size of this thing is outstanding.  I feel that a plane could make a landing with ease on that wide brim.  When speaking with her, you must take a few steps back so as not to intrude on her extended bubble.  An attack from above would go unnoticed.  The sun completely gives up on burning that face....oh but those arms.  Her turning radius is greatly wider making it difficult to clear nearby walls.  Fashion rule: Never wear a hatisor large enough to shade two faces.  Well, I think that about sums it up.

Stay stylish, my friends.

Golden Rings of Melt-in-Your-Mouth Goodness

    It was beautiful living in Texas where donut shops could be found on every street corner.  In our town of 7,300 people, Dayton had three donut shops in addition to the two grocery stores and several gas stations that sold these light and fluffy, golden rings of goodness.  Of course, PDub and I would bless our dear bellies with this not-so-good-for-you breakfast at least once a week.  When we had returning visitors (mostly parents), their first request for food wasn't for the ever popular Tex-Mex or chicken-fried steak but instead for Happy Donuts, a chain owned by some very happy Vietnamese people.  When entering the shop, you would be energetically greeted, and if they had not seen you before or they just forgot who you were, they would proceed to say, "Long time no see," making you feel genuinely missed (even if it was your first time visiting).  There's nothing like covering your face with powdered sugar or digesting one of their special twists.  I say "special" because these twists were not only filled with cinnamon and sugar and then glazed, but they were also topped with the chocolate most of us know from long john's.  A sugar rush if I dare say so myself.
    I grew up in a small town where the donut shop was a thing of the past.  For a short period of time, we had The Donut Shop where I still remember visiting with my dad, eating a chocolate long john, and washing it all down with a paper carton of milk.  The Donut Shop closed far to quickly in my opinion because then my Saturday mornings were filled with not-so-good donuts from the surrounding grocery stores.  No worries, I would get Krispy Kremes whenever we ventured over to St. Louis, but the lack of these was insufficient to satisfy my needs.  Luckily, Texas fulfilled this hole within me.
    Spoiled, that's what I was after living in Texas because now the nearest donut seller is a grocery store.  We have fancy bagels within walking distance but no donuts.  I seriously question myself daily on why we moved to such a donut-less place.  After three weeks of neglecting my need, I fired up the stove-top, heated some oil in my cast-iron skillets, and got to work on perfecting a recipe to satisfy my appetite.  Although it's difficult to mess with the kitchen every Saturday morning, I still take it upon myself that these donuts must be made to continue my way of life.  You will find my simple recipe across the tabs above.

Donut.....Do not mind if I do....Sometimes I wonder if I should have gone into law enforcement.....

Maintain Class in your Work-Out Clothes

    My mom was and still is one of those women who will never be caught in public without being properly dressed, hair nicely combed, or make-up neatly applied.  I remember I would get so frustrated when we needed a few things from Wal-Mart, and my mom would take the time to change out of her sweats and into something presentable.  It's not like we were doing the catwalk down the aisles.  Wouldn't that be a sight among the people who probably hadn't showered in three days?  However, she still took the time to look nice.

My beautiful mom and me.

    I, on the other hand, have led my life in a different way.  These days it's hard to catch me not in my work-out clothes, or since I don't actually work-out, you can call them sweats.  And yes, it's your lucky day if you catch me wearing mascara.  Okay, okay, sometimes I feel that I should put a real shirt on instead of my homemade sleeveless shirt just to get the mail, so sometimes, I use my mom's methods.  It's not that I don't like getting glossy-ed up; I just don't feel like a nice outfit and a done-up face is necessary to impress Maya....or PDub for that matter.  Bonus, when I do put on real clothes, de-pony-fy my hair, and apply make-up, they are both surprised at how well I clean-up.

    I wasn't always like this.  Growing up, I remember sneaking into my mom's make-up drawer to apply blue eyeshadow, and of course the methodology in eyeshadow application at age five includes a dirty finger dipping into the product then thickly applying from the eyelashes to the eyebrows.  Needless to say, I was caught.  I guess the natural look I was going for didn't exactly work.  Come to think of it, it may have worked out for a clown.  I also loved going to the mall for back-to-school shopping where my parents would purchase me several new outfits, and I would proceed to model them for my dad whenever we returned home.  I still do this when I am at home, and my parents are generous enough to take me shopping.

My stylish family....

    Recently, I decided to stop sitting in the apartment for any longer, and open my own little business selling make-up.  It's official; I have been a Mary Kay Consultant for 6 days now, and it has caused me to dress up like three times already, meet new friends, and actually exit my apartment.  It may not be my dream job or one that I attended six years of school for, but no worries, I can work as I want and when I want.  If a new opportunity comes along (interview next Wednesday....AAAHHH!), I will be able to manage both.  Although my mom doesn't realize it and she may not support me completely in my choice, she has taught me to be a classy lady even if I am in sweats.  Cheers to looking good and feeling good because of it!

Living Tiny in the Largest City

    It's hard not to go to New York City and compare everything to a television show.  When we moved Doubles Shark-Whisperer into her apartment, shows like Will and Grace, Friends, How I Met Your Mother, and even some movies were brought up like it was how you were supposed to live your life as a New Yorker.  We compared a bridge in Central Park to one in Law and Order where we were sure to see a detective chasing after a bad guy.  We found a parking place and referenced Seinfeld refusing to move the vehicle until we had to.  We  listened to the awfully crackled-up train conductor announce the next station while thinking of the subway-fluent Lily on How I Met Your Mother.  We ate at a local pizza place and thought of Miranda and Carrie from Sex in the City.  What we never compared, however, was the size of Doubles Shark-Whisperer's apartment.  The comedian, Seinfeld, the architect, Ted, and the writer, Carrie, could evidently live in a highly spacious apartment that actually had walls to divide rooms.  Our traveling nurse, Doubles Shark-Whisperer, learned the truth about living in New York City.  Live small at home but big when out on the town.  Here's the tour.....

This is the kitchen....I mean bedroom.....

This is the living room.....I mean dining room....I mean hallway.....I mean bedroom.....

And in all of this tiny-ness, this is the view.....

    I feel quite confident that Doubles Shark-Whisperer will get along just perfectly in such a tiny apartment.  She tends to lose things so being in a small home may give her a step forward in finding her lost items.  For instance, Doubles Shark-Whisperer will come to visit us for a night and will pack five bags.  I never said she was a light packer.  After she parks her vehicle to come up to our apartment (which I now find quite spacious), she will place her phone in one of the five bags and her keys in another.  Yes, one of these five bags will be a purse, and that being the logical place to put such items, they never make it in.  Two seconds after she has put her phone somewhere, she will be searching for it.  With this in mind, you can see that her living in such a small space could be quite beneficial.  Everything is conveniently located only a few steps away.  It may get confusing when describing where it is....Kitchen, bedroom, etc. but easy to locate.  Although the apartment may be tiny, she has the country's largest city just outside her door to play in and dozens of television shows that have trained her for such an assignment.

New York, New York

Start spreading the news.

I'm leaving today.

I want to be a part of it.

New York, New York.

    I was beginning to feel a bit frustrated with the traffic and number of tolls, but this emotion was quickly replaced with a nervous pit in my stomach as I drove atop a hill overlooking the picturesque view of New York City.  I was greatly intimidated with this skyline seeing that it was more than quadruple the size of any city I had visited before.  A rush of fear came over me knowing that I was in the driver's seat heading into the third most populated city in the world.  Although the weight of the city rested on my passengers, PDub and Doubles Shark-Whisperer, they weren't behind the wheel getting ready to battle east coast residents driving, walking, and biking throughout the city.

These vagabond shoes

are longing to stray

right through the very heart of it

New York, New York.

    The reason for our visit to New York City was not as tourists but instead as movers.  Doubles Shark-Whisperer, our traveling nurse, had chosen this great city as her next assignment.  We moved her belongings into her box of an apartment, unpacked, organized, and used the rest of our long day to experience the city.  We first headed to Central Park for a reminder that nature does exist within this great mass of skyscrapers.  After watching all of the exercisers, we headed to stuff ourselves with some New York style pizza....another blog.

Central Park with the Maya and Phoebe

On a bridge in Central Park.

I want to wake up in a city that doesn't sleep

and find I'm king of the hill,

top of the heap.

    Before retiring for the evening, we headed to Times Square to be lost in the crowds and blinded by the lights.  The number of people is indescribable, and I felt very small in such a concentrated population....Something I was not too excited about.  However, the well-lit billboards drew your attention away from "a drop in the big ocean" feel.  We took our picture and went home.  The next day, we headed to Battery Park to view the Statue of Liberty.  My first comments described how disappointed I was in the size, but after researching, the statue is actually about two miles from our destination making it appear very small.  Again, we took our picture and returned for our vehicle, hugged goodbye, and drove back to Arlington.

Times Square where people never sleep....I mean how could you with those lights?

The extremely small thing that I am pinching happens to be the Statue of Liberty.

These little town blues

are melting away.

I'll make a brand new start of it

in old New York.

    Although I will return to visit New York City, I'll go ahead and continue my time in the D.C. area.  My new home seems to be small apples compared to the Big Apple.  Speaking of apples, it's time for lunch.... 

Maya: My Trip to the Vet

    Hi, my name is Maya, and my mom asked me to be a guest blogger.  I think she is too lazy to write seeing that she has slept probably more than me today.  Anyway, I jumped at the opportunity because I love to be the center of attention.  Plus, I've been working on a few tricks to show off.  I'm not really sure how I can play dead on a written blog, but I'm sure I can figure something out.
    Today was a little different than usual.  I still woke up at my usual time and got chewed out for getting my mom and dad out of bed.  I swear they are so grumpy in the morning!  I took care of some business outside because if I did it inside I get in BIG trouble.  After dad fed me, I climbed back into bed with mom and slept for what I thought would be our usual allotted time; however, her alarm went off early, and she started to get ready for the day.  During this time, I found an empty water bottle in dad's stuff, so I took it for a spin.  Mom played a little with me, but then she harnessed me up.  I get so excited when I am harnessed because that means I get to leave this tiny apartment.

    We didn't head outside for my dreadful walk but instead went to the car.  I love short car rides; long ones are a different story.  The smells and people passing by are so invigorating as long as we don't go too fast.  We parked at a big building and got out of the car.  I had no clue where we were, but I was with mom and felt safe.  We walked in, and the smell hit me.  We were at one of those places where you get poked and stuck with needles.  I immediately hopped in mom's lap and shook like crazy.  Do I ever hate these places!
    While waiting to go in, this old lady with an ugly cat (I hate cats) told a humongous dog to stop staring at her ugly cat.  The dog's owner said they had cats at home and that his dog was used to them.  The old lady told the owner that the humongous dog was not used to her cat.  The dog owner then told her that the ugly cat was in a kennel and his dog wouldn't be able to hurt her.  The old lady said she didn't want her ugly cat to be scared so to please keep the humongous dog away.  Stupid cats....and old ladies!  I don't very much care for humongous dogs, but that guy wasn't even close to the ugly cat!  Although, at least he was more interested in the cat than me.....

    Eventually, we went into a little room.  Mom put me up on a tall table and what seemed to be a nice lady said she was going to take my temperature.  She pulled out a long stick, and I thought, "This can't be so bad."  But then she stuck the thing up my butt!  Mom kind of laughed.  It was probably the expression on my face because I was not expecting that.  Nice lady my butt!  Luckily, it wasn't up there for long.  The Doc came in and did some checks on me.  Boy, did this suck.  I got three shots in my sides and one up my nose.  That last one made me sneeze a few times.  I mean seriously, how would you like it if someone stuck a stick up your butt and squirted liquid in your nose.  Not happy!  It was all good after because I got a treat.  I would probably go back if I knew that I would get a treat.  Well that was my day.  Have a happy Wednesday!.....I think I'll go take a nap now.....

Philly Cheesesteak

    In 1930, Pat Olivieri was tired of selling and eating the same hot dogs from his stand in south Philadelphia, so he asked for the butcher to send him some chopped meat, which he loaded onto an Italian roll with some onions.  A cab driver who frequented the stand daily stopped and asked Pat to make him the same sandwich.  The cabbie pushed Pat to begin selling these sandwiches, and later cheese was added to them by popular demand.  The well-known Philly cheesesteak was born.

    When visiting Philadelphia, it's hard to resist standing in line at one of the Philly cheesesteak sellers and devour such a wonderful sandwich.  We have visited Philadelphia twice in the past month and partaken in this tradition at three different places.  After trying the different combinations, PDub and I have found the perfect sandwich for our individual appetites.  With three choices of cheese (Whiz, provolone, or American) and your selection of onions and peppers (hot or sweet), my sandwich has become a masterpiece covered in cheese whiz while PDub's is more of a party-for-your-mouth with the sweet peppers, onions, and cheese whiz.  Philly cheesesteaks have become a popularity in our family!  Remember when you visit Philadelphia, never say "Philly cheesesteak" but "cheesesteak" instead.....it's a given, my friends.

Located across the street from Pat's, Geno's claims to have added cheese to the sandwich.  Lines extend from both of these competing cheesesteak providers.

Such a difficult choice....Pat's or Geno's?

We chose the original.

At each restaurant, you must get your order correct, or they will send you to the end of the line.  A reflection of the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld.

Pat's.....PDub's Favorite.

After asking our Philly friends which steak they liked best, Carmen's was on the list in addition to Pat's and Geno's.

Impressing the people in line by chopping some steaks....a true skill.

Waiting for goodness.....worth every minute.

Carmen's.....my favorite.

Jim's, yet another popular stop for those cheesesteak lovers (and our Philly friends).

Steak (said in a low voice)!

Jim's....yum!

   Hopefully, I'll come up with Dub's Cheesesteak recipe in the near future seeing that Philly is just a little too far for dinner....

No Day But Today....

The heart may freeze or it can burn

The pain will ease if I can learn

    Jonathan Larson had worked seven years on his musical Rent before someone took a risk and produced it on broadway.  He was 35 years old when he attended the final rehearsal before opening night.  After the successful rehearsal, Jonathan went home and was later found dead by his roommate.  He had died from an aortic dissection and never got to see his musical on broadway or receive his three Tony awards or Pulitzer Prize for Drama.

There is no future

There is no past

Thank God this moment's not the last

    Stieg Larsson was left by his very poor parents to be raised by his grandparents.  He grew up to become a Swedish journalist and writer.  He died at the age of 50 from a heart attack after climbing seven flights of stairs to his office.  His trilogy of "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" was published shortly after his death.  Stieg was unable to see his greatest works in bookstores or made into movies.  Stieg became the second bestseller in the world and the first in the U.S.  He was shorted on experiencing any of this.

There's only us
There's only this
Forget regret-- or life is yours to miss.
No other road
No other way
No day but today

    Anne Frank was born into a Jewish family in Germany and lost her citizenship shortly after.  Her family then moved to Amsterdam, Netherlands.  The Nazis soon invaded the Netherlands and forced Anne and her family into hiding.  They were eventually caught and moved to a concentration camp where Anne passed away at the age of 15 from typhus.  Her diary was published shortly after her death and has become one of the best descriptions of such a tragic time.  Due to her short life, Anne was unable to see her people freed or her diary published.

There's only yes
Only tonight
We must let go
To know what is right
No other course
No other way
No day but today

    John Kennedy Toole grew up in New Orleans, Louisiana and later attended Tulane University and Columbia University where he advanced his writing skills.  During his time in the army, John began writing a novel entitled "The Confederacy of Dunces."  The publication of this novel was rejected by many which led John to end his life at the age of 31.  His book was later published, and although too late, John was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.

I can't control
My destiny
I trust my soul
My only hope
is just to be

    Adrienne Shelly began her acting career at the age of 10 where years later she starred in a few independent films.  Shortly after these roles, she transitioned into writing and directing.  Adrienne wrote, directed, and co-starred in the movie "Waitress."  She was murdered several months before its release at the age of 40 and unable to accept the five awards that it received.

There's only now
There's only here
Give in to love
Or live in fear
No other path
No other way
No day but today

    

    We as animals get caught up in the same routine, yet unlike other animals, we as humans have the ability to recognize these habits.  Oftentimes, we forget that each day is a gift that we should probably do more with than painfully go through the same, familiar steps.  It is our responsibility to truly live each day to its fullest, "carpe diem."  I forget this sometimes and often fall into my daily schedule of sleeping, laundry, and cooking when the world is just at my fingertips.  Life is more than a good nap, although we all love these from time to time.  Life is about all those things we get to experience with others that make the best memories.

    When was the last time that you laughed until your stomach hurt or cried until you were unattractively puffy?  When was the last time that you treated yourself to a broadway show or even a piece of cheesecake?  When was the last time you sang as loudly as you could and danced ridiculously?  When was the last time you interrupted your routine of breakfast, work, and dinner for doing something you love to do?  Do you even remember what you love to do or has it been lost among your daily routine?  These things make us who we are, and if we lose them, we are no longer distinguished individuals but just a group of beings, only we aren't being.

    With these individuals' stories, I hope that I have reminded you that life is far too short.  We usually reflect on this when someone near to us passes away, but it is time to ask ourselves these questions daily.  Stop cheating yourself and live as if there's "No day but today..."

Growing Up with Softballs and Bubbles

My first year of softball.

    Softball was probably one of the first sports my parents pushed me to participate in, but if it hadn't been for their pressure, I wouldn't have become the competitive, spitting, dirt-loving, gum-chewing individual that I am today (plus, I know how to use a bat).  When my parents first informed me that they had enrolled me in summer tee-ball, I responded with a question: "You mean I gotta wear a dutty glub?"  With the deal that my parents would coach the team, I decided that getting a little dirty wouldn't be so bad.
    Boy or girl, we all start hitting off of a tee, and we all do cartwheels and chase butterflies in the outfield.  One of the clearest memories I have involved gum and hair.  You see, there is no softball (or baseball for that matter) without packing your mouth full of gum and blowing the biggest bubbles.  Since my parents were the coaches, they would always supply our dugout with water and Bubblicious.  During one game, our first baseman was completing her main task by blowing the biggest bubble yet; however, this bubble burst onto her face and sadly into her hair.  The game was suspended until the gum was removed, and the player was clear of all Bubblicious.  Remember, this was little girls' softball; parents were more concerned with the wellbeing of their child instead of the outcome of the game (at least in the 90's, this is how it was).  The gum was successfully removed with a little bit of ice, and the game resumed.  Luckily, we had no hair casualties.

Winner, winner....

    These games would usually end with the coaches, or a giving parent, purchasing the players snow cones.  When the parents were feeling really generous and up for some child-time, we would get to celebrate a win by feasting on some cheese pizzas at Pizza Man.  The party would truly get started by setting Spice Girls to play repetitively on the jukebox and singing into the parmesan and red pepper shakers.  This is probably what divided the softball girls from the baseball boys, but to this day, it is still uncertain.
    With the chants from the dugouts and the diving plays in the fields, softball taught me, and most likely my friends too, how to be a team player and especially how to blow some serious bubbles.  I would never exchange that time for anything else, so thank you, parents, for that push!  Arlington softball leagues, here I come....and I'm bringing my dutty glub!

Missing Out on the Olympics: An Athlete's Dream Shot to Pieces

    With the Olympics going on, I can't help but regret not pursuing my dreams and possible career in swimming or especially badminton.  Why didn't my parents push me harder to overcome my fear of loud noises and dive into that pool?  Why didn't they install a badminton court in our backyard, so I could practice daily?  Why didn't they choose my genetics, so that I wouldn't be 5'4" and instead 7' tall?  I guess some of us just didn't have the means to pursue our dreams, Olympic ones at that.  Just think, had I gone after these dreams, I would presently be retired.  I already consider myself retired after going to school for 6 years and working only 3 months to be moved to a D.C. vacation spot where I no longer work but instead, lay by the pool and read.  However, PDub and I would have been better off with an Olympic retirement.

Uniform made in Virginia...not China

    Today, I wonder what events I could participate in with what I practice daily.  Although they aren't necessarily Olympic events, I feel that I would do pretty well in ironing shirts, vacuuming apartments, and handstands.  Just like a real Olympian, these are all activities that I practice daily.  After informing PDub and Doubles Shark-Whisperer of this, they both gave me difference reactions.  PDub found it quite sad that those would be the events I would compete in and thought that I probably shouldn't admit that I perform these tasks daily.  Doubles Shark-Whisperer, on the other hand, told me that I probably wouldn't have a chance against the 5-star hotel maids or the dry cleaners.  I'm not sure that I would receive a medal or even qualify for the finals, but at least, I would be able to go to the Olympics and star in some pretty awesome commercials for starch and cleaning products.
    While the summer Olympics are being aired, PDub and I have been breaking our "early to bed" habit, and we have been staying up late just to watch an event in which we already know the outcome. It's quite sad to go on a news webpage or even on Facebook to find a spoiler.  Was it necessary to announce that our women's gymnastics won right after they did?  I would have at least liked to have seen it.  It's like telling me that Batman dies at the end of "The Dark Knight Rises" before I ever get to see it....rude!  Anyway, I guess our media has to report on the news immediately, or it wouldn't be new-s.  Sadly, after viewing these events, I can't help but want to step on a sand volleyball court or swing on anything that appears to be uneven bars.
    Someday I might go to the Olympics.  The oldest Olympian to ever compete was 72 at the 1920 games.  He was a shooter, so maybe if I get over my fear of loud noises, I could go shoot some things too.  You never know....I've got time, but first I need to go iron some shirts....

Escalator surfing...a true sport!