Seasonally challenged

Spring, is that you?

Yes, I'm going though something (what?) but I think it's fair to blame most of it on the weather, yeah? The sun is my mood ring in the sky. She tells me what to feel, but she's clearing going through some crazy mid-30s thing, too. Mood swinging right along with me. Dude, so not helping.

Winter, at least in these parts, was flaccid. If not for two well-timed trips out of the city, my Cougar boots would have seen zero action this season. And that's really no fun at all. I see no practical use for celibacy. I'm not a skier, normally. Nor have I laced skates in recent memory. But suddenly, I wanted these things in my life. Badly. Because i couldn't have them, natch. You want my attention: play hard to get. (No don't.)

(Trading up my cougars for these puppies. But I don't deserve it yet //Keds for Madewell)

Spring just isn't quite so delicious unless it comes on the heels of 3 months of suffering bus-stop waits and near-frostbite due to ill-chosen footwear. This is why I love Canada, usually. Renewal and reward happen naturally four times a year (without asymmetric haircuts or accent walls).

So, YEAH I feel a little ripped off. A bit undeserving of spring. Anticlimax. And you know how I hate straight lines - I thrive on ups and downs and up-up-UPS! Stagnancy is my hell. And well, fall bled into "winter" and suddenly became spring-ish without doing much work at all. Meh.

OK, I'm not really complaining. I see an opportunity for melodrama, I take it. C'mon, you know me by now. In reality, it's having positive effects. It's gorge out this week and even though it doesn't smell like spring or involve any melting whatsoever, it's nice. My soul is getting a little colour. A few extra minutes of vitamin-D absorption and I suddenly feel a renewed sense of motivation and positive energy? Lawd, I'm SO easy.

Honest? I'm in the mood for spring. And love! And change! And bikes! And drinking in the park! And really, whatever it may bring in these globally-warmed times. 

I need this. I'm trading up my drab winter blues for happier spring hues - cobalt  and azure and periwinke, oh MY! Peppered with polka-dots and shots of orangey-red, how can I NOT feel uplifted? Kay, so I'm not allowed to shop right now, but it doesn't hurt to fill up dot-com shopping carts and hover a shaky hand over my credit card before I close the browser, right?

Enjoy some well-seasoned picks for spring (that you'll probably never actually see me wearing). Help a sister out, will ya?

Bling. Mendoza Earrings $635 // House of Harlow 1960 Antler Ring $98

Let's picnic then make out in the sand. 

J Crew Factory stripe pocket shirt // Baggu tote $35

Head scarves. I'll be such a babe in these. Also I may just start a hot-chick bike gang with this girl, because she's on the scarf program too. 

(Elle France / Karen Walker)

Oh hi boys, just goin' to the farmers market.

Pantora chevron dress on ETSY - SOLD while writing this post (frownsy face!) // Baggu tote

Karen Walker

 Jenfashion circle skirt on ETSY $69

Yes, 3rd Baggu bag in this post. But don't you just love these?! There suuuper cheap, too. $35 // Faryl Robin Pump $79

Kathryn Amberleigh T-Strap Pump $139 // Stripe/floral scarf $30

(I feel better already.)

crazy for feelings

I think I suffered a massive panic attack at my desk today.

"Heart attack!!" also crossed my mind. 

Something you should know before worrying: I'm prone to melodrama. Clearly it's the best idea to immediately self-diagnose a confusing chest-pain/anxiety-feeling as something way more serious than it probably is. Remember this very important equation: I have an internet connection = I am a medical expert.

Maths!

So, no panic/heart attack. Really, it's likely a combination of PMS, exhaustion and post-superbowl heartburn (even the salad contained Fritos!). The perfect storm.

It's an angry cocktail, especially mixed with my mini life-crisis episodes of late. I can usually handle/dismiss my internal crazy:

"I'm so aimless. Yay, this is the best thing ever!!! What am I DOING with my life? Am I happy? Let's move to Oregon? No, Peru. LET'S GO DANCING! I should be going to yoga again. Do you think it's an ulcer? I miss my sister. OMG, let's craft! I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR." 

Same day here, people. Same day.

I'm not trying to date you, so it's pretty safe to bring my full crazy to the table.

(I'm also prone to exaggeration. So please still be my friend. I'm normal. Sort of. And nice. Don't leave.)

But yeah, I can laugh at myself. Really well. Self-deprecation is kinda my shtick. Otherwise, I'd never survive, err, me. I can also (mostly) brush away those fleeting desires to do impulsive (annnnd probably destructive) things. Because that's what adults are supposed to do, right? 

Today, though, I let the crazy own me a bit. I felt sad and/or panicked and/or confused. You know, because of the lady business and the heart-stopping greasy food and the sleep-deprivation. 

I'll be fine. Somehow hubby is actually being super-duper, even though I'm an exasperating human. He's NOT rolling his eyes (he should be). Instead he picked up Indian take-out (great for heartburn, of course) and we watched a movie of my picking (Enchanted!). "Everyone has a right to feel sad sometimes." Cute, yeah? I don't deserve sympathy. I'm usually 95% responsible for my own repeated unravelings. I'll generously only place 5% of the blame on genetics: the women in my family are nuts. In a good way. The very, very best way. Like me, right?

(Ugh. "Unraveling" is so over-the-top. Sheesh.)

OK, so why am I at all desirable and how did I actually manage to snag and marry a non-creep? These big purple bruises on my emotional makeup are pretty rare these days and I'm usually a glass-half-full kinda girl (full! overflowing!). I'll probably be there again tomorrow. Probably I should wear something ridiculous so that the work-nerds harass me. Because that's a pretty fun time.

High highs, low (infrequent) lows. I guess I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Thrills!

I already feel so much better. Thanks, blog. 

---

P.S. if you managed to actually feel sorry for me somehow (don't), I'd like to point out that this was my weekend:

One of those moods.

I couldn't muster the interest/energy/enthusiasm for writing a complete blog at any point in the past week, so I'm amalgamating multiple drafts:

Friday:

I usually refrain from "language" on this blog due to the heavy mom-content in my readership. But this is surely an exception. 

Phone call: there is news.

FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

Just ugly-sobbed on the phone with my Dad. Manic-daughter stuff is usually Mom's territory but she was in the hot tub.

Saturday:

Speechless.

Sunday:

Blurry.

Monday:

I shouldn't listen to sad music when I'm bummed. It's Monday. It's raining. The current state of things in the outer world are mimicking my inner world. Prophetic fallacy.

I should resume my short-lived stint as a (hobby) poet. Teenage angst flashbacks.

OK, taking things into perspective: I have my health. No one is dying. Love is blooming (still). I adore my job. I'm being social. Life is beautiful.

But still. I have news. The worst part is that the way I deal with crappy things is to blab about them incessantly. Oversharing is super-cathartic. And I CAN'T. Arrrgh. I will be able to share very, very soon, but for now: zippity-do-dah.

Tuesday:

Feeling better today. Flights booked for my work/personal trip in January (and Alex is joining me for part of it!) so I have something fun to anticipate. Yay!

You know I'm a glass-half-full kind of girl and I always bounce back. Turning anger and frustration into positive productivity right now. OK, you want to kill me. Dawn thinks I'm preggers. Or moving. And my secrecy (my RARE secrecy) is killing her. These are not my guts to spill, though. They are the guts of another, and I have vowed to carefully guard them until the appropriate time. Hurry up!!!

Look: Tuesday = much better than Monday. Plus it's sunny. And NOT Monday. Already things are looking up-up-up!

Wednesday:

I think I have a cold from biking for half an hour in the pouring rain. I know that this is not actually possible: you get sick from germs, not inclement weather. But again, maybe I'm just having a psychic connection to the weather.

Heard that the stupid secret is spreading around more than it should be. But it won't be traced back to me. Nope. Unless my Dad takes a notion and decides to open a Twitter account and take on the gossip-mill as a hobby. Nah, I get my big mouth from my Mom.

Still kind of hoping this has been a week-long dream.

Nope.

Thursday:

Realized that my mood/lethargy can be mostly blamed on PMS. Although I'm pretty gutted about the incident-that-will-not-be-named, I think girl-problems are really the culprit for my sourness. Meaning: next week should look up! And maybe next week I can talk this thing to death, too. Waiting for the green flag.

Mom: You'll be fine.

Me: I always am 

Mom: You always are.

This funk I'm in doesn't fit. It feels sticky. And wrong. Off to sweat out bad vibes in hot yoga. Promise: more divulging and less pouting next time!

(images: art prints by Pocket Carnival and Kathy Panton on Etsy)