OMG VALENTINE’S DAY

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Who’s with their s/o right now? How great is this day? Did you get breakfast in bed? How cute is that bouquet of flowers gonna look in your room? How will you ever finished that box of heart shaped chocolates and still stay true to your spring break diet? How much Formosa are you going to devour? And OMG how much Netflix are you going to binge watch afterwards???

Ew.

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It’s Valentine’s day folks. The holiday that holds the record for most cliches. I’ve never been your biggest fan St. Valentine. Half because of my perpetual single-ness half because in high school I thought leading an anti-Valentines day revolt and wearing all black was bad ass (no one joined the movement by the way).  And how freaking annoying is social media on this day every year??? We get it you have a boyfriend. We get it he rocks. We get it if you’re single and that means you’re like required by some unwritten law to post a photo talking about how pizza is your Valentine. Still probably tossed it a like though.

So as I sit here doing non-Valentine’s Day things (by myself), I have taken it upon myself to hand select ten songs for you to listen to as you sulk about your lack of V-day plans (alone).

1.  Love on the Brain by Rihanna. Let’s just take a moment to TRY and get in the Valentine’s mind set.

Nope.

2. The appropriately titled UGH! by my favorites. Listen to this when you “literally can’t even deal” with all of the red and hearts and pizza.

3. Nicest Thing by Kate Nash . You know hat person you’ve been silently stalking for the last several months? You’ve invested a lot of time into that and I’m gonna go out on a limb and say he/she has yet to acknowledge your existence as a being.

 

4. Bridges by Broods. Watch the music video and recall the three thousand times you’ve fallen victim to the classic “Oh you thought we were more than friends…?” ordeal. *Cringe*

5. The Rose by Bette Midler. This song goes out to all those rose photos on Insta. Keep being you. Oh and also Ben Higgins. This song goes out to Ben Higgins too.

6. Never Be Like You by Flume. This song is you hoping that you will never turn into that person that you h8 when (if) you’re ever not single on V-day.

7. Touch by Shura. Oooooooh those lyrics. Also probably a lot of what you’re not getting.

8. Linger by the Cranberries. That guy/girl you liked last year is still not your Valentine.

9. Don’t Wanna be your Girl by Wet (who rocks, go check out their other music). No. I am still not interested.

10. And finally, My Heart Will Go On. You should have seen this one coming from me.

 

You’re welcome. Now go eat chocolate.

All hail Yeezus

Ok, so for those of you that don’t live under a rock, the Yeezy season 3 show happened. And the Kardashian Klan wore this.

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And my face looked like this

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And then I googled things to make my closet look like that. And then I looked at my wallet. It looked like this.

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And now here I am. So clearly I can’t budget for anything Yeezy or Balmain BUT I did get to recreate last season’s line for CollegeFashionista so that was fun.

E N J O Y

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t’s no secret that anything with Kanye’s name on it costs an arm and a leg. The man could sell toilet paper with his initials on it for a grand. Totally fine for #TreatYoself moments, but for the practical shopper it’s no dice. Unfortunately for me, I have a bit of an obsession with the Yeezy spring ready-to-wear line. Oversized sweatshirts, baseball caps and neutrals? Check, check and check. Sign me up. It’s practically torture to check out the online shop and see that there literally is nothing that doesn’t cost less than two months’ rent. Sweet!

I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner but for this round of Style Guru Style, I took it into my own hands to recreate a much more affordable take on Mr. West’s wizardry. First, I set out for a nude colored top and bottom set. Living in northern Iowa makes for a pretty cold January, so I went with a turtleneck from Madewell for the top and some faux suede leggings on the bottom. Yeezy is all about oversized layering so I layered a military style canvas vest over a jacket from Billabong that I normally only bring out in the spring and fall.

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Now for the details. First, let’s talk about the hat. I think everyone should own a few plain hats without logos on them. It’s great to rep your school or favorite sports team from time to time, but just because you’ve dubbed the day a hat day doesn’t mean you have to dress like a scrub from top to bottom. It’s easier to make a plain hat look chic. For my kicks, I went back and forth about dressing it up with some nude heels. I ended up taking the practical route and threw on some vintage Sorel boots. I practically dumpster dove for these. By that, I mean that I nabbed them from my mom’s I-wore-these-in-the-’80s throw away pile. Since then, she wants them back. I said no and am currently holding them for ransom.

Read the full article here!

Wilkinson – Afterglow

Ok, so I’ll admit the first time I watched this I thought it was some sort of advertisement. I stumbled onto Wilkinson after watching a few of Wet’s music videos (which if you don’t know who that is then do yourself a favor and check them out). I paid zero attention to the song in the background, but yes. It is, in fact, a music video. And it’s sick. Song isn’t bad either.

Another DM post

yoRaise your hand if you told yourself you would be better at life this semester. Keep your hand up if you didn’t school one iota last week.

Thought so, go you.

Don’t feel too bad because I’m pretty positive 90% of us are in the same boat (good news though, it’s Monday and I  hereby cleanse you from the week long chain of less than great decisions and spending waaaay too much money on food that doesn’t align with your #SpringBreakBod).That being said, three cheers to me for surviving my last syllabus week. Gulp.

When I finally figured out that I was able to finish my graduation requirements after one heavy semester and a few summer courses, I was like yes plz sign me up. I intentionally gave myself absolutely zero time to think about the never ending list of “lasts” that I’m about to encounter. This is mostly because I made a vow to myself to never repeat the last day of eighth grade again (me crying nostalgically to the office ladies about how I didn’t want to grow up and be a high school ‘adult’). You’ll be happy to know that I have help up my end of the bargain since that day. So today when I sat down to plan out my next few weeks, I was a little surprised to feel a familiar rush of nostalgia. As I was flipping through my planner, I saw that Dance Marathon is only two short weeks away. Whoa. This is my last Dance Marathon. Ever. Welcome, feels. And also extreme panic for being under my fundraising goal.

I’ve been participating in DM since my freshman year. To be completely honest with you, I had absolutely NO idea what I was getting myself in to (and if this is your first one, neither do you). I signed up because it had the word dance in it. I’m like “Sweet, a bunch of people who like do dance and stuff!!!” I knew it donated to some sort of cause. So cool, I get to do what I love and put something on my resume that makes me look like a good person. Even better.

I hate asking people to do things for me, so if I was going to commit to plastering my online giving link everywhere, I wanted to be sure that it was for a good cause. I scoured the internet for stories and testimonials about all the good Dance Marathon does in the terrible world of pediatric cancer. By this point I’m thinking that this whole deal is pretty cool and definitely worth pestering all of my friends and family to donate “even just one dollar!!!!”- how many times have you seen that this past week?

After I hit my goal, all that was left was the actual event. I packed my bag and set off for 24 hours of non stop dancing, but I couldn’t have prepared myself for the experience as a whole.

Standing in a room full of people who are genuinely dedicated to one cause is nothing short of an indescribable experience. It’s rare to come across a crew of college kids doing something that can truly change your entire outlook on life in just 24 short (or excutiatingly long and sleep-deprived) hours. Listening to family after family speak on their encounters with cancer took me through a whirlwind of emotions. I found myself teeter tottering between feeling insanely grateful for my life, and extremely devastated about the turmoil these families face. For sure makes everything else feel so small.

At this stage in life, I think it’s hard to find things that make you feel like your presence is significant, or that you’re capable of making any sort of a dent in the world. We’re all just sort of aimlessly wandering around trying to figure out where we fit into the big scheme of things. In that process, there’s always someone ahead of you or doing something you wish you could do. Always some sort of sense of discontentment. It’s so easy to get caught up in what you’re not doing, that you miss out on what you can do.

Thank God for this organization because, for me, Dance Marathon has allowed me that sense of fulfillment. It makes me feel like I can do something productive in my three short years here by contributing to something so much bigger than myself. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that there are very few people whose lives haven’t been touched by cancer in some way. It flat out sucks. So do something about it. Obviously, we don’t all have the means to find the cure to this awful disease. But what we can do is take part in organizations such as Dance Marathon.

So. As I try to scrounge up the last portion of my $500 fundraising goal, I encourage you to do something with your Monday to make yourself feel even just a little productive or fulfilled. If that means crossing a few things off your to-do list, get up and go do it. If that means throwing “even just a dollar” my way, check out this link. If that means getting out of bed for the first time today, well then it may be too late for your Monday ‘start-over’ that I mentioned earlier. But hey, better late than never.

And for my fellow Dance marathon-ers: you rock.

 

Post travel sads

FullSizeRender 3In the last 14 days I have been in 6 states: Colorado, Nevada, California, Nebraska, Minnesota and Iowa. Six hours on a plane 33 and a half hours in a car in the last two weeks. Now that I’m officially back to the homeland, I’m suffering from a very real case of PVSD (post vacation sads disorder). Symptoms include me sitting on my couch in the middle of nowhere, Iowa, looking out the window at snow instead of palm trees, scrolling through vacation pictures, and putting off anything that signifies I have any sort of responsibility coming my way (heaven forbid I do something productive on winter break). I’m stuck in a reel of replaying the adventures of the past few weeks over and over again. I think this is because I don’t want to be back in Hampton, Iowa, and I sure as hell don’t want to start my 18 credit semester on Tuesday.

Anyone who’s ventured outside of their home knows that this kind of travel entails plenty of window time. In case you’re unclear of what I mean, this is the part of the vacation where you sit, whether in a car or plane, and stare out the window and think about life or do what I do most often and pretend like I’m in some sort of dramatic music video (tell me you’ve never done that and I’ll tell you you’re full of shit).

During some of the time where I wasn’t in an old school Hillary Duff or Blink-182 video, I got to thinking about all of the people I had encountered over this past trip. Ok yes, I was blessed to actually physically meet some pretty amazing humans over this last vacation, but even beyond that. I’m talking like all of the people I had just passed on the street and missed (most likely due to one of two things 1. Me scrolling through Instagram or 2. Being too hungover to take off my sunglasses) or all of the people living lives I know absolutely nothing about in the homes I was flying over.

Have I lost ya yet? Let me try and put it in perspective. Think about how many people you don’t know that you pass in a given day. Maybe you make eye contact, maybe you don’t. But you’re walking, they’re walking, each of you have your own thing going on, but you know absolutely nothing about who they are are what’s going on in their life…and continuing to walk by is you being totally cool with that.

Obviously it’s not possible to meet all 7 billion humans on this earth, but for some reason it’s unsettling to me to think that any given stranger I encounter either on the street or in a coffee shop and doesn’t say hello is totally okay with never seeing me again. Selfish, maybe, but it goes both ways. Too many times I’ve seen someone and been like ‘hey they seem interesting’ or ‘hopefully i run into them again,’ leaving it entirely up to chance. Doesn’t matter what’s going on in my head though, cause on the outside at that point I’ve become just another passerby who is completely oblivious to the fact that this person has their own life and complexity outside of just being an extra in mine.

So here I am, staring out the window of the car trying to flip back to my music video brain, and thinking I’m completely bat shit crazy at this point, and my attention is redirected to this video. Watch it, or else I’ll tell everyone you do the weird music video thing too.

Good, right? There’s actually a word for it: Sonder. Some guy, somewhere out there cared enough to make a video about the word so strange people, like me, can feel slightly less strange. Sweet. Thanks, guy.

Kylie Jenner, will you be my friend?

PLZ STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND LOOK AT THIS DRESS.kylie.jpgWhaaaaaaaat? As if my girl crush level wasn’t already alarming, this dress really just took it to a whole new level. As in it is now my iPhone background, I’ve stalked the designer and have already priced it out like nine times. As of now, it’s looking like I would have to sell all of my possessions and my soul to the devil for just the top. So yeah, you were right if you estimated it to cost more than my life. A price I’m willing to consider paying.

It’s like if Britney Spears (Toxic era) and Tinkerbell had a love child (and it was a dress and not a human) this would be it.

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Oh hell yeah, I nailed it.

Still slightly confused as to what Kylie and Kourtney were even doing at the Golden Globes after party…seeing as they are no where near actresses, nor do they possess any type of potential talent in that area…but do I care? No. Why? Because the dress can do zero wrong and anyone wearing it is exempt from such criticism. Thank you Kylie for once again being my style spirit animal. Cannot WAIT until we are friends (despite my slightly stalkerish tendencies) and you let me borrow that dress. Which will inevitably happen.

Botched: the hair edition

derpReal life photo of me smiling through the pain^^

I made the grave mistake of cutting my locks in the middle of my Abercrombie and Fitch denim skirt phase. Hind-sight is 20/20 but anyone with half a brain knows that no major decision should be made when you all but worship that stupid little moose logo. Since coming home with the early 2000’s signature side swept bangs, and practically a bowl cut, I’ve been trying to grow it back out. Believe me when I say I’ve tried everything from strange oils to prenatal vitamins. And hey I was making some progress until I met she-who-shall-not-be-named (a hair dresser who is probably related to satan).

For those of  you who haven’t noticed, Holly the 20-year-old has left the building and an unhot version of Stacy’s mom has entered stage right, red hot. The version of Stacy’s mom that is probably on her third cup of coffee and has something stuck in her teeth. Welcome over-caffeinated Stacy’s mom with the librarian bob, wish I could say I was glad to have ya. Some of it is probably my fault for not having a routine hair stylist in Iowa City, or anywhere for that matter. Maybe I’m an unclear communicator, but here I am 3 cycles of hair dye and two haircuts later with a style that is nowhere near what I expected. I will say that some salvation came my way during fix #3 in the form of a stylist back in my hometown- so I at least feel less like a colonial woman now. Bless your soul, Tiffany.

All of that being said, I can’t pinpoint a time in my life where I felt less like myself than I do right now. I’ve committed myself to a life of ponytail nubs and baseball-cap-wearing to try and hide the degree of friedness (which is high af). To be honest, I hate myself for getting so tied up in something as superficial as a haircut. But dude, you’re lying to yourself if you said someone’s hair isn’t among the first things you notice. Kind of gross how big of a role physical appearance plays, but unfortunately that’s kind of the way it goes at this stage of life. How I feel is typically a bit of a direct link to how I present myself on the outside and that works the opposite way as well.

Somewhere along the line I’ve let myself fall into a place where something as small as a botched haircut can result in a mini identity crisis- a personality flaw that needs stopped in its tracks. So I’m teaching myself to embrace the bedhead, care less about what everyone may think of it and move the hell on. It is hair. It freaking grows back. Get over it. Change is good and, hey, as I’ve said before, I think the biggest improvements as a person come from your most uncomfortable experiences. Obviously this is just a blip on the scale of uncomfortable or unfortunate happenings (and I tend to be a little bit overdramatic) but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn something from it. Even if it’s just to never go back to she-who-shall-not-be-named.