St. Patty's Day...kind of.

Happy St. Patty's Day!

Confession. I didn't wear green today. On the rare occasion that I come up with a cute outfit, I have to go with it (because I can wear scrubs to work and trust me, if I had more than 2 pairs, I'd wear them EVERY. DAY). So I decided to actually try to look put together (curse working in a department of all women who dress up). As a result I got pinched even after trying to explain that because I have Irish blood, I should get a free pass from pinching (Dude. Hello. Red hair and freckles. Need I say more? Well. Apparently that's not good enough. Lame). 

Also I realized that I didn't have any idea what I was making for dinner tonight. I mean I have about a zillion dinner ideas pinned on Pinterest but nothing "St. Patty's Day" appropriate. And, I don't do corned beef and cabbage. I am just not a huge fan. So I was zipping through Pinterest seeing what everyone else had pinned and whattayaknow but sister pinned shamrock pasta with pesto (thanks B!). GENIUS. So I decided spinach pasta with pesto and chicken topped with fresh parmesan cheese it would be! Friends. The smell of pesto. That aroma. Oh yummmmmm! So my impromptu-thrown-together dinner actually turned out well. And can I just say how much I love garlic bread? Holy catscans I could've eaten the whole loaf by myself. Whoever thought of garlic bread, thank you, you rock my taste buds's world.

I needed a break for a few minutes today and googled miniature schnauzer puppies for sale and I found THIS ADORABLE guy. For sale. In San Antonio!!! Have I mentioned how badly I want a miniature schnauzer?

OHIWANTHIM!!!!!!!!!! I died from his cuteness. I just want to squeeze him he's SO cute!!!

*sigh* Anyway.
Last Monday I came home from work early because I felt horrible. I was reading up on some blogs I hadn't read in a while and I happened to be reading this post from NieNie where she talks about comfy, soft leggings from The Jean Girl and I don't know if it was the cold medicine or the exhaustion but I decided to check it out and all of the sudden I realized that I had bought leggings. What? Here's the thing. Crazy, patterned leggings are a stretch for me. Women who wear them amaze me because I just think it's too much for me. I tend to keep my style conservative. But since I've gotten married I have discovered I'm a little more bold and risk taking with clothes. I guess being married gives me confidence. So when I got home I had a lovely package waiting for me! 

NO joke. They are WICKED comfortable. As in I could wear these 24/7. I even made Mark feel them. So I bought them with the intent that I could work out in them, ya know like yoga, but I think they may also be my new favorite lounge-wear. I don't know if I'm brave enough to wear them out. Yet. Or ever. I just don't know. I mean what shirt do I wear? And what shoes? Friends I'm not a fashionista. I guess I can go google what to wear with leggings. I mean do you dress them up? Heels, really? Really? Eh...I don't know. But anyway, I'm so in love I bought--eh hem--3 more pairs. Check them out. You won't be disappointed. 

 Next.
For Christmas I got Mark a drawing table. Mark is an INCREDIBLE artist. He's drawn me a few pictures and they are amazing (and I have several more for him to draw; I keep him busy!). He's too modest about it and far too critical of his work, but he's truly talented! So I walked into the room to see what Mark was doing and he was sketching away. I love to watch him draw. Oddly, I find it very relaxing. And cool to see him at work. 

Off to bed! Cheers!

St. Patty's Day in Review

Let's review a few things I observed and/or learned and/or thought and/or experienced during my first St. Patrick's Day in Myrtle Beach, shall we? We shall. 

1. I am very glad I do not drink. My drinks of choice: strawberry kiwi carbonated water, diet coke, and water. Not mixed. Livin' on the edge, I know. But I like it there. 

2. I witnessed not 1, but 2 bar fights. I'm not going to lie, it was rather exciting (you may perhaps be able to tell I don't frequent bars often, in which case, that is definitely correct), but drunk guys are stupid. 

3. I do not like bars. At least definitely not on St. Patrick's Day. And not in this freakin' state where people are allowed to SMOKE in them!!! SICK!!! South Carolina needs to get on the health bandwagon and ban this nastiness already! What is this, 1975? COME ON! And while you're at it, ban smoking from every restaurant too. I was shocked when I went out to eat for the first time and there were people smoking in the restaurant. Get out. No really. GET. OUT. I don't want lung cancer. Not even that. I just want to BREATHE. Am-scram bucko.

4. I will never, ever, ever, EVER wear heels out again. NEVER. At least not when I will be walking and standing around for hours. My heels now have time limits on them. I should have gone with my gut, which screamed, "WEAR THE FLATS!!!!!" I love heels but not for 9 hours. My poor feet.

5. I am not a club kind of girl. At least not at a nasty-style, tramp-filled, ghetto-infested, hi-I-want-to-hook-up-with-you kind of a club. We bar hopped last night at Broadway at the Beach and the last place we hit up actually had a legit dance floor and DJ so I was excited because I love to dance. Except, I like to dance with big groups of friends and since most of our party was either at the bar having their 20th shot/drink, or dancing somewhere else, or who really knows, I ended up dancing with a couple of other girls in our party and was having fun until the nasty-style guys came up to try to "dance" with us. When this happens, instantly I'm irritated and my groove is thrown off. If I had a strong guard, like in "The Emperor's New Groove," I would have had these bozos tossed outta there faster than you can C-Walk or 2 step.You have better believe I gave them a subtle yet steely warning glare, and that did the trick: I'm here to have fun with my friends and to dance and you are neither my friend nor someone I care to dance with. I have zero interest in grinding with you, dancing with you, and hooking up with you so let's make this simple: don't approach me, don't touch me, don't smile at me like your Mr. Cool J, get your slimy, drunk, nasty self away from me, and everything will be fine. And by that, I mean you will be fine. You, buster, can stay 10 feet away from the door, which is 30 feet away from me. Got it? Good. 

6. Drunk people, 99% of the time, act like idiots. I don't know what the other 1% constitutes but I guess you can't assume all people who get drunk act like idiots, right? Maybe? Benefit of the doubt? I'm going to have a slightly difficult time taking some of my colleagues and co-workers serious after seeing them drunk as a skunk. They definitely were hilarious but also embarrassing. I suppose this is one of the reasons I don't care to party too hard with co-workers. It's just awkward sometimes, you know? 

Interesting experience. It was fun, kind of, in an it-was-nice-to-get-out kind of way, but I'll pass on the next one. 

Now. Fun stuff.

I was talking to my FUTURE STEP-SISTER (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) today on the phone, which was fabulous as always. One of her kiddos was talking to her and when she said she was on the phone with me, I heard her kiddo say, "AUNT GABE!!" I am an aunt. Well, not officially until June but...I. AM. AN. AUNT! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!! I love these kids, love them. And now I'm their aunt. *giggles* Yay! 

Next!

Should I get these...

  

...or these?

 

I really love Toms. And brightly colored shoes. And thus, brightly-colored Toms.

It's in the 70s here and there's a thunderstorm starting. My windows and balcony door are open and the feature presentation is about to begin so I'm off to indulge in the fun!