tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48644653213022508602024-03-15T01:21:06.630-07:00Roni feels nostalgicRoni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.comBlogger213125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-17387111124429572032021-08-10T21:36:00.002-07:002021-08-10T21:39:17.932-07:00Mommy Feels Nostalgic<p>I don't know that I even want to continue writing in this old space. I feel I've outgrown it. But for the sake of not having to create a whole new blog, I just need to dump these words somewhere before my head (or heart) explodes.</p><p><br /></p><p>My daughter starts school tomorrow. Kinder. And I'm not looking forward to it at all. </p><p>Yes there is that part of me (that proud part) as her mother that is excited for all she'll continue to learn and all the friends she'll hopefully make, and how (I pray) she'll love her teacher. But outside of that, I'm a mess. For three weeks, I've been a snotty, swollen eyed, sore throat from wailing out into my pillow, mess. The crying fits bring with them a migraine in the morning. And I wish I wasn't this way. But I've always felt things so strongly, so deeply, and this is no exception. In fact, there's been no exception quite like this.</p><p>The realization that today was the last day I had my daughter home, after being so very fortunate to have had her with me these last five and a half years, has been crushing. I can't explain how absolutely devastating and heartbreaking it's been recently, as we inched closer to this day. I've never cried so much, and that's saying something, because, again, when you feel EVERYTHING, everything either makes you so happy you cry, or shit hurts like hell and you cry <b>your face off</b>. </p><p>Being a mom has been a dream come true. Getting to be a stay at home mom has been the sweetest, most colossal cherry on top. It's what I've wanted more than anything in the whole world since I was a kid. I've always known I wanted to be a mom, and the journey to motherhood was a long and painful one: Three miscarriages, an emergency surgery as a result of an ectopic pregnancy, loss of a fallopian tube, infertility issues, and so many poking and prodding tests.</p><p>Then like magic, at the - truly - most perfect time, came my Donna. After the miscarriages and then five years of no positive pregnancy tests, came two pink lines on a stick the night before I graduated college, while my whole family, plus inlaws, were, for the first time, in the same place (our first purchased home), three days before we were supposed to begin IVF--did you get all that? There's no other way to say it--the timing was *chef's kiss* perfect. </p><p>Pregnancy was easy, despite so much morning (and night) sickness. I had the natural hypnobirth I wanted and had researched/absorbed for the previous three years. But more than that, I <i>said</i> birth was going to be easy and peaceful and nothing like the horror stories I'd heard, and it was. I willed it so. Mind over matter. I essentially meditated my daughter down the birth canal while dancing with and kissing my husband, and when I felt her rest at the place for expulsion, I pushed for ten minutes and she was earthside. It almost felt too easy. Maybe because I never feared it? </p><p>Breastfeeding came naturally for us with not a single issue, outside of plugged ducts (once per kid) that I massaged out in a hot shower. All of this I am grateful for because I know these are not easy feats for many, many women. But somehow, I said, "this is how things are gonna go <b>for me</b>, despite all the people I know personally and all the strangers who say it's not so easy; their story isn't <i>my</i> story," and I got lucky. And that's how it is with parenthood: some parts of it come effortlessly for some, and some parts are difficult, disastrous events for others. And the latter is me with school. Mind over matter is out the window, meditating and praying under the moonlight isn't helping for shit. This is difficult and I am a disaster, but maybe because I've always feared this moment.</p><p>The thought that tomorrow begins the chapter of parenthood where I begin sending my first born off to school, to be away from me for seven hours a day, five days a week seems a million times harder than birth or breastfeeding every single day for five years, seven months, two weeks, and three days (and still counting). I've never felt this much anxiety. My head literally hurts all day, my heart, too. Damn these kindergarten blues.</p><p>Donna is ready and has been so brave about this new transition. Lord knows I need her to be. Because after I've hyped up kindergarten to her, I've walked away for a quick cry in the pantry. And after she's gone to bed, I've sobbed like.a.fucking.baby. I've even crept into her room to sleep with her on some of my rougher nights. </p><p>It seems like yesterday she was born and I had all the time in the world with her. I think of those first three months of her life and how we bounced between the couch and the bed, nursing the days away while watching Parks and Rec, Charlotte's Web, and lots of Doc McStuffins. I know it's unpopular, but I loved it: the nursing for hours on end and having nowhere to be but cozied up in our home, together. Those days where we were both new, they were so slow and peaceful. It was beautiful and I don't think I'll ever look back on them and not immediately well up with tears. <i>"The days are long, but the years are short" </i>they say. "They" are right.<i> </i></p><p>At three months, I wanted friends for the both of us, so I found a place for moms to meet online, and I formed my mom crew. First Florida, then Texas. First Donna, then Michael. Hundreds of playdates we've done. I've hosted a ton, and we've been hosted too. So many playgrounds and indoor play places. Parks & trails, children's museums, even the beach. We were never short on friends. But there were plenty of times I enjoyed just us two, or us three (now with her brother) doing a playdate without anyone else tagging along. </p><p>I can't tell you just how much fun it's been. I've always felt like a kid at heart, and I have wanted nothing more than to give my children the most magical childhood with memories to last a lifetime. And especially memories of a mom who ran through all those tunnels with them, jumped in the ball pits, bounced on the trampolines, and slid down the slippery slides right alongside them, even when I was nine months pregnant. </p><p>To know that those playdates are over for Donna is crushing and I feel so weighed down by this sadness and my anxiety. </p><p>Though I've enjoyed the one on one time I've recently gotten with Michael when she went back to preschool this June (for three days a week), Donna's absence was still felt as I'd remember those first couple years of new motherhood where Donna and I did all these same things together. I hear her laughter, see her smile, and those big brown eyes that would widen like super moons every time I took her somewhere to play. It was rare we'd stay home, before the pandemic. Our days were so full and trust me, I was never <i>not</i> tired, but since day one, it's been everything to see my babies light up when I ask if they want to go to such and such place that morning. The joy on their little faces erases my exhaustion, or at least puts it on hold, just to see them so happy. I wish everyday could be like that. </p><p>When I think of how long we've had, I am grateful with all my heart. It'll never be enough for me though. I'll always want more. More time. And though I knew this day would come, and as much as we've done between many trips across several states, and as many years worth of bonding as Donna and I had, the 'School Chapter' feels like it came overnight, and all those years by in a blink. </p><p>My baby's growing up. </p><p>Each stage of parenthood/childhood brings new challenges. A little more independence here and there for the kiddo, a little more letting go for the parent. This one has been the hardest on my heart. I can do tough things, and I constantly impress myself with how I can put mind over matter and breathe through moments that require so much work, whether it be mental or physical. But I feel the most out of control in my headspace and my emotional state than ever before. It's as though I'm grieving the end of something gut-wrenchingly painful, while still having the wherewithal to know, I will likely cry even harder (if that's possible) tomorrow, and maybe again on Thursday, but I'll come out of this and all will be fine (more than fine) once I've moved into the acceptance, and maybe even joyful, part of this new beginning. </p><p>It feels like something's wrong with me for being this dramatic and heartbroken. I only know three friends who are kindergarten-reeling to this degree, and I have read some ugly-cry-inducing blog posts from moms I don't know who are feeling everything I can't articulate. But still. We seem to be in the minority. Most of my mom friends are posting "back to school" photos with apple and book emojis and captioning positive, encouraging, and simple words. I wonder if they're hurting as much as me outside of the one line captions and context-appropriate emojis? I see posts from hilarious mom meme pages I follow, where the moms are sharing how thrilled they are to have a quiet house again after spending the summer with their kids. </p><p>I'm not going to pretend for a second my kids don't drive me crazy too. I am guilty of losing my temper and yelling and apologizing from my soul and then desperately wanting a moment to myself. But no matter how tired I am, how badly I want to sit down and watch what I want, or how nice it would be to sit down and eat without getting up so many times my food goes cold, I one-million percent would always, always, always rather my kids be home with me where I can see them and know they're safe.</p><p>Because it's not just the grieving of this one chapter coming to an end, it's the trusting that I am struggling with. It's going to be a monumental effort on my part to relinquish my full time role as overseer of my daughter's wellbeing to someone I've met once for two minutes, in a building we've set foot in once. A building that Donna looked way too small to be walking through. I feel like I'm being forced to do something I don't feel even slightly comfortable doing. Again, I know this probably sounds insane because it's school and it's part of life and blah blah blah. But I never looked at it through the lens I'm looking at it now, as a mother. A mother letting go a little. </p><p>A mom endlessly hoping and praying that the teacher is kind and patient and passionate about her very important (very appreciated) job, and that the classmates are nice. Praying that no one makes fun of how Donna still pronounces words that begin with sp (such as spelling, sprint, sport, or spanish) with an f sound (e.g. felling, frint, fort, fanish). Praying that Donna doesn't excitedly talk about something she likes, only to be called a baby for watching it or playing with it, and comes home disinterested in this hypothetical thing she loved so much. Praying that she has someone to eat with at lunch and play with at recess. Praying, praying, praying. </p><p>My baby's growing up. </p><p>You can grieve anything that ends that meant the whole world to you, even if it's really a small chapter in the grand scheme of things. If it's ending or changing and you don't want it to, and your heart wants badly to hold on longer - the more I think about it (with tears fully flowing down my face right now) - it makes sense you'd grieve it, and there's nothing silly about that. You - we - I, just gotta remember that grief is temporary, healing is inevitable, and "joy comes in the morning."</p><p>Not tomorrow morning, though. Tomorrow is kindergarten and bravery will be necessary as I lead my girl through double doors and new hallways to her classroom and wish her a wonderful day. And I can't imagine I'll make it even a foot without crying as I turn my back to her. Can't get too crazy with the tears because Michael might be fighting off tears of his own (he is so attached to his sister) and I'll have to be doubly brave. I can will that so.</p><p>So no, not tomorrow, but hopefully joy will find me in the morning on Thursday. If not then, soon. I will it so.</p>Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-56574757458315499282013-10-23T07:40:00.000-07:002013-10-23T07:40:22.452-07:00Fall bluesIt's raining a ton in Florida right now, and while I'd normally be in gloomy day heaven, I can't help but think, "this doesn't feel like Fall." It was hot as shit yesterday and the humidity destroyed my hair. I can barely get two whole days of dirty hair down here before my mane just looks yuck. There's no foliage; no purples, mustards or reds. I love palm trees and the beaches and all, but just not during my favorite season. I've spent the morning looking out the window, watching the rain fall and thinking of what the weather is like in New Jersey and New York right now. How there's sunlight during the day but it's chilly enough to require a jacket. I'm even yearning for the <i>smell </i>of a northeastern fall. The smell that never lasted quite long enough before the harsh winds of winter left marks on your cheeks and made your ears wanna cry. What I'm trying to say is, you shouldn't have back sweat stains on your shirt in October. And speaking of shouldn'ts, I know I shouldn't be complaining. I do remember how much griping I did every year when winter seemed to overstay its welcome (by months!), but it's funny how you can miss the things that irk you.<br />
I'd give anything to be walking through Central Park right now, holding hands with Mikey and eating a pretzel, or walking down any of my old favorite pathways on FDU, heading to my next class while stopping to take pictures of the same mansion and the same towering trees, like I did just about every single day during my two and a half years there.Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-79914355663574475032013-05-07T01:38:00.002-07:002013-05-07T01:59:44.943-07:00a copy of a copy of a copy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykdmnS-MtXI"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">"With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything's far away. Everything's a copy of a copy of a copy. When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep, and you're never really awake."</span></a> (Fight Club is one of the coolest, most relevant movies ever. Maybe.)</div>
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You may or may not be able to tell, but when I took these pictures the other day, I was headed to school and I hadn't slept in almost 30 hours. </div>
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Mikey's been in Florida, working at his new job (and doing exceptionally well, I must add) for the last month and some change. I've been here in Jersey, finishing up my semester and living with his dad. Most girls can't handle separation from their husbands, I think I do it just fine. But I'm not most girls (and it also helps that he's not in Iraq this time--I admit, I didn't handle 130 days of <i>that</i> so great in the beginning, but that's different--there isn't much of an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Force_Protection_Condition"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">FPCON</span></a> level in Fort Myers, Florida). I love my alone time and when I have it, I cherish it by spending a good amount of time thinking, reading, drinking wine, listening to music, taking bubble baths, painting my nails, writing in my journal, and watching a shit ton of Arrested Development (<a href="http://ronifeelsnostalgic.blogspot.com/2012/10/its-arrested-development.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">but you already knew that</span></a>). I have my whole life to spend with Mikey, so there's no sense in me crying everyday that I miss him so much. It goes without saying that I do. But I've also always been abnormally independent. It doesn't mean I don't love as much, I just do it differently I guess. Why am I even saying all this? To show how strong I am? I don't think so. Quite the contrary I suppose. You see at night, that's when everything becomes a bit more challenging. I'm used to Mikey sleeping next to me. I guess in that aspect, I've grown very dependent. In bed with him, I sleep better. Like a baby. Since he's been gone, I haven't had the best sleep. I've been averaging about four hours a night during the week--if I sleep at all--but come the weekend, I can be in bed by nine or ten p.m. and sleep well past noon the next day. (Maybe school is just stressing me the fudge out and that's why I can't sleep during the week? Who knows.) I recently purchased a bottle of "Sleep Aid Maximum Strength" at Target; the lady at the pharmacy counter told me it's really just Benadryl and that she recommends it over Melatonin (which is what I usually take) if you're having honest to goodness trouble sleeping. It obviously works like a dream, but I've been trying not to take it <i>every night</i>, so as to give myself the opportunity to fall asleep naturally. I was godawful tired tonight, so I resisted the sleep aid and what do you know? It's 4:37 in the morning and I have class at 9:55...</div>
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If any of you have suffered from this ruthless bitch, Insomnia, and have any remedies that might work, feel free to send them my way. </div>
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Vintage 1950's dress from The Attic in Las Vegas (it was a gift from Mikey on our 1 year anniversary)</div>
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Gem stone floral necklace: Anthropologie 2010</div>
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Mel by Melissa "Apple" Bow Jelly Sandal (mouthful)</div>
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In other news, Spring has <u>finally</u> sprung in New Jersey. It's beautiful, especially on FDU. And oh yeah, I suppose it's been a while since I posted (shocker), so I have new hair. Hiiiii. K bye.<br />
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Love, me.<br />
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P.s. I start my week long road trip to head south to Florida next Friday after my final exam! I'm making a few pit stops along the way to see some old bffs, my mother-in-law, and maybe meet up with some <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/ThreeSpectacledGals"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">girls</span></a> who I adore from IG (I'm spontaneous-and crazy-like that). Can't wait!Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-70382987737281014232013-03-02T21:05:00.000-08:002013-03-02T21:05:34.296-08:00smiles, pleasantries, and a car wash: how to make my day *slash* I love when people are nice to me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
{{See also: <a href="http://ronifeelsnostalgic.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-little-things.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">The Little Things</span></a>}}</div>
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Dress: Dear Creatures// Cardi: so old, don't remember// Tights, pumps: ModCloth// Bag: F21 (also old)</div>
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These were taken yesterday, Friday. It's a day worthy of mention since people, strangers essentially, were just so nice to me. I mean, nice enough to boggle my mind multiple times as I was running my errands. (Northern New Jersey/NYC area aren't exactly known for being hospitable--not to say they never are.) For a second, it felt like my birthday and the niceties were obligatory or something. But nope, I wasn't wearing a Little Mermaid tiara and there wasn't a five dollar bill pinned to my dress to initiate a followup of even larger bills (why do I forget to try this out every year?). People were just in a good mood, in this rat race "I'm too busy to even respond to your 'hello'" city! It was wonderful and it honestly just uplifted my spirits. Can I share a story? Yeah? Okay...<br />
When we first moved here, and I'm talking the first day we got here, we walked down the street from our apartment to get a slice of pizza around the corner (cliche much?). Mikey and I passed dozens of people on that short walk and I said hello to almost all of them; not a single person acknowledged my attempt at pleasantries. Most didn't even look up at me and speed-walked past, others actually looked at me like I was a quack. All I said was hello.<br />
I remember eating the pizza in the most pissy, depressed manner (the saddest girl to ever hold a slice of pizza-- I'm making a <i>Vanilla Sky</i> joke). "I wish we'd stayed in Vegas," I moped, "people in the south and on the west coast are a lot friendlier than here...everyone was right, east coasters are kind of assholes." Mikey tried to console me and simultaneously bash the east coast/west coast, who's nicer logic I was throwing at him (he's originally from Jersey). He told me that maybe the people around here weren't used to such bubbly personalities on the street and perhaps I just caught them off guard. "It is a busy city and people just move faster here; they don't really have time to stop and chat with strangers," he took his chances at explaining for them. "But I didn't try to chat, I said hello!" I was getting emotional, as I usually do when I'm in a new state that I want to fall in love with but I'm still missing and comparing everything to my last home. "I know, I know. And it was rude for them to ignore you, but what can you do? Don't let it hurt your feelings. And don't let a few rude people on the street ruin your first day here...we have to live here for at least four years." I remember him saying this and looking at me like I was his child, his head titled looking at me with reasoning eyes while his left hand did that slow, swiping motion down my back. I was holding back tears that probably only came on because it started pouring outside and our table was right at the window. Feeling sorry for yourself can be quite pathetic, but add rain <i>and</i> a window and all I want to do is be the baby I sometimes feel like I am, especially when I'm the vulnerable new girl (this takes place for a few weeks before I become the 'confident and sassy new girl, who everyone should know'). He said this area was going to be very different than anywhere I'd ever lived, but it didn't mean the people weren't as kind. And he was right (duh). I was pretty bitter for the next couple weeks, but I couldn't stop being me. That first day at the pizza place, I probably sounded like a brat, er drama queen, when I said I wouldn't ever say hi to anyone that I walked past again, that if they wanted an asshole I could definitely be their girl. And trust me, I could, but it's not who I want to be for <i>no</i> reason. Ever. So I kept up the smile and niceties toward strangers that make me Me, and it didn't take long for the surrounding neighbors and passersby to treat Mikey and I with the same courtesies. Sure, to this day, not everyone responds to the "hello" or "how are you" I extend their way, but I certainly don't get butt-hurt anymore. It also didn't take long for me to adopt some of the east coast ways myself...like a few driving habits I'm not proud of. Mikey's always reminding me that I'll need to slow my pace down in general when we move to Florida, because they're on island time there, and I'm forever in a state of rushing like most of the people around me here. I suppose I've turned into a speedy little rat (?) myself. I just haven't forgotten to be nice to people in between. And that's what I appreciated so much yesterday.<br />
After school I went to the Mini dealership to check on one of my tires because I got a little pop-up message that one of them was low...a month ago! Oopsy. Not only did they put air in it, but they found a small leak in my oil thingy (that is the correct term for non-mechanics like myself) and fixed/replaced that. They apologized countless times for the wait to which I kept assuring them that I had nowhere to be. I've never been one of those "my time is precious" people. I mean, I suppose all of our time is pretty precious but I'm just not going to be a dick to someone who's helping me. Plus, I had a huge bag of Starburst and they were playing <i>The Lion King</i> in the waiting room--did I really need to rush off?! Nah ah. So the nice dude at the counter lets me know my car is ready, thanks me for my patience, and I go outside to see my baby Aldous (my car's name) all clean and shiny. They washed <i>and</i> vacuumed my car! Now, either they're just as sweet as can be or they noticed that I had six months worth of dirt caked on and thought they <u>needed</u> to hook a girl up. It didn't matter, they made my day. The rest of the day consisted of a handful of other friendly encounters at business establishments that Mikey and I popped in at. Maybe it was obligatory customer service with a smile stuff and maybe people were just happy it was Friday. Either way, I was just warmed by the cheerfulness of so many strangers and workers. A few people (girls) even complimented me on my outfit! One was from the girl at the service desk at Mini, who I've seen on several occasions. She never really smiles or looks too approachable so when she told me that my outfits "always brighten her day because they're so colorful," I was like, "who me?" It was completely unexpected and so sweet, I'm sure I was blushing like an idiot when I thanked her. I wonder if she read my <a href="http://ronifeelsnostalgic.blogspot.com/2013/02/starlet-or-streetwalker.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"><b>blog post</b></span></a> from a couple weeks ago? ;)<br />
I suppose I should shut up and end this babble now. Bottom line: people of New Jersey, thank you for not being pricks yesterday.<br />
Ooooh, I'm only kidding. Y'all were sweet as pie and made my heart really happy. Thank you. Keep that shit up.<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
me.<br />
<br />
<b>Note</b>: If it wasn't clear, I don't think east coasters are assholes; I think we're all kind of assholes with the potential to be really nice...and vice versa.Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-4988300173023974752013-02-28T21:55:00.000-08:002013-02-28T21:55:07.681-08:00home sick/mommy sickToday, right now, I'm missing my mommy.<br />
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I can't wait till the next time I go home. I know my mom and I will do lots of laughing, talking till the wee hours of the morning, and get pints of Blue Bell ice cream to eat while we sit on the couch and watch movies. And of course, she'll make me menudo.<br />
One day, I'll live in Texas again and she'll only be a drive away.Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-79125829421246603332013-02-17T11:47:00.001-08:002013-02-17T11:47:20.172-08:00the early NovemberGuys, here are some pictures that never made it to the blog because I decided to take that long break. These are from November, right after I made it to my first blogaversary and Mikey bought me a celebratory dress for the occasion. We were at school and there were tons of leaves everywhere so naturally, I played in them. Here are the photos.<br />
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Coat: Oasis// Dear Creatures dress via ModCloth// Cardi: Express// Tights: ModCloth// Brogue shoes: Endless</div>
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This is one of my favorite dresses to play with. It looks so different/lovely/perfect with heels! If I could own everything Dear Creatures puts out, I'd be the happiest girl everrrr.</div>
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I think that last one is a pretty neat shot, if I may be so boastful. Good job, Mikey. </div>
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How many of you know that The Early November is--well, was--a band? They used to be one of my favorites, back in my emo days. It's still fun to play them in my car and reminisce on past times (especially with <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hyVUtTvSLTs"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"><b>this song</b></span></a>). Not only that, the early part of November is also my favorite time of year. The air just smells and feels better. And it reminds me of chilly nights in 2002 when I first began my adventure in the military (I was so young!). I wrote a little personal essay about that last year, maybe I'll share it one day. </div>
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Anywho, I hope you're all having a relaxing Sunday. </div>
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Love,</div>
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me</div>
Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-19808728754621650042013-02-15T10:46:00.001-08:002013-02-15T11:05:43.892-08:00Starlet or Streetwalker? (If you don't watch <a href="http://www.eonline.com/videos/201818/fashion-police-starlet-or-streetwalker"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">Fashion Police</span></a> on E! then this post title is probably making you go "what the fu??")<br />
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Metallic coat: ASOS// Sweater dress: Etsy// Glitter collar: my pal Chryssi made it!// Knee highs: Target// Bait shoes: won in a giveaway on <a href="http://www.scathingly-brilliant.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">Scathingly Brilliant</span></a>// Satchel: Marshall's</div>
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I wore this--what I initially thought as cute--little number last month to sort of pay homage to two of my favorite movies: Pretty Woman & Clueless. But boy, did people look at me like I was strictly a streetwalker (<i>what kinda hooker have you seen wearing pink bows and baby pink flats?!</i>). All because of about 2.5 inches of exposed thigh. I felt all kinds of uncomfortable wearing this at the grocery store after I felt many a'pairs of eyeballs shooting death stares at me, mainly female ones. Which, I don't understand. Why are women such bitches sometimes? I mean, I could understand if my boobs were out so much that newborn babies were tempted to suckle, or if this dress was see through and I was wearing a thong, or if I was winking at the men that these women clutched onto so tightly, but clearly I wasn't. <i>I</i> was simply holding the hand of my husband and picking out which cereal I wanted: Fruity Pebbles or Cap'n Crunch (I went with the latter, obviously).<br />
When I see a girl in a cute, out of the ordinary outfit, I actually go up and tell her that she looks lovely. But that's just me. I'm not saying that strangers should line up to commend me on my great fashion sense (though I wouldn't turn fans away ;)) , but jeez louise, if you don't like what I'm wearing is it really going to make you feel better to stare at me like I just killed five kittens?<br />
Really, it all comes down to this: if you don't have something nice to say then shut the fuck up and look somewhere else. Right?<br />
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Note: I am not <b>at all</b> mad today, I was just recalling my emotions. Sorry that I had to use vulgar language. It was necessary.<br />
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Happy Friday!! And remember, be nice to one another, girls. <3Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-79305734090909975552013-02-14T17:35:00.001-08:002013-02-14T17:35:37.319-08:00ImprovWho says you can't use an iPad case as a clutch?? Especially when it's a darling Ted Baker one with a center bow. Well, you can. I just did....and I don't own an iPad.<br />
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Dress: Ruche// Cardi, tights: Target// Bait Shoes (won in a giveaway!)// Ted Baker iPad case: Nordstrom// hair scarf: gift from Mommy</div>
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Happy Valentine's Day, ya'll. </div>
Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-71634740625829158792013-02-12T20:18:00.000-08:002013-03-04T20:07:43.416-08:0029.This is what I looked like on the eve and day of my 29th year, celebrating with booze and cake at Clash in Jersey, and eating dinner at the stunningly dark and utterly delicious Buddakan in New York City (my father-in-law is the best!).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInV9DJc3AqzyWhKV6vp7NPiiikverYtZ2ZklkA28cxFmvwte0qa4_ZBzN74rMOwj68bWTd5PaWEqOBWBCnI7GwKatV6R8a3W5dD1e28sVnGwtowLZ7ort12OuyxlWFxhoqZoxK6nXKAXx/s1600/IMG_6536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInV9DJc3AqzyWhKV6vp7NPiiikverYtZ2ZklkA28cxFmvwte0qa4_ZBzN74rMOwj68bWTd5PaWEqOBWBCnI7GwKatV6R8a3W5dD1e28sVnGwtowLZ7ort12OuyxlWFxhoqZoxK6nXKAXx/s640/IMG_6536.JPG" width="570" /></a></div>
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both birthday dresses are from ModCloth (top is Bernie Dexter in Winter Wonderland)</div>
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shoes: Swedish Hasbeens Mimmi </div>
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(my sister-in-law has the pics from the restaurant)</div>
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My birthday crept up on me this year. I almost missed it, quite honestly. Luckily, it takes zero time to drive down the road and order a Date with Elvis* from my favorite bartender/bar owner and friend, Bob. My buddy Sean from school and his fiance also met up with us; it was my first time meeting Joanna and as you can tell from the pictures, we hit it off really well. No offense to all my good guy friends that came out that night <i>last minute </i>(thank you!), but I don't think it would have been nearly as fun if Joanna wasn't there. I like girls who are loud, crazy, willing to dance to any song (and be the only ones on the dance floor), girls who are a lot like...well, me. </div>
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Anywho, I only cried about three times, so all in all I suppose it was a good, normal fading-20's birthday. </div>
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This post is actually kinda lame. Sorry. I'll try and have something better next time round. <3</div>
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*Date with Elvis is one of my favorite specialty drinks at Clash. A mix of whipped cream vodka (or marshmallow vodka--I can't remember what it says anymore), tequila, and margarita mix. It's pure yum.</div>
Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-78551900138580987142013-02-08T18:09:00.000-08:002013-02-08T18:18:10.883-08:00last New Jersey winterOh, heyyy.<br />
Well, I certainly didn't plan on taking a 3.5ish month break from my blog, but what can I say? Life just happens. A lot. And after a while, the guilt that normally encompassed me <i>when I missed as little as three days of blogging </i>disappeared.<br />
I'm here right now because I want to be. I really miss having a sort of picture diary, versus just having my personal daily journal. When I was updating here so much I abandoned my journal, and I always felt so horrible because, as you would imagine, I shared 'more' there. I miss all the friends I made here and the ways we communicated, but to be honest, I still don't see myself updating this thing as much as I used to (but who really knows with me?). I will, however, update when I can, therefore making this what I initially intended it to be: for me; for memories; just because; for fun. I don't like feeling like things I enjoy are chores and I think that's part of what happened before. Plus, aside from getting their phone calls and texts WEEKLY, I know my mom and sister want so bad to come to this website again and actually see what I've been up to. Our every-other-day phone calls are just not enough for them. :) So, Mom, Mona, this post is for y'all.<br />
Today it snowed. And apparently it's going to snow a lot-lot more. Mikey and I decided to document our last winter/snowstorm here in Jersey. (Dear God, I hope it's our last one.) He recently got a job that will be requiring us to move to Florida before the start of summer. We're so, so excited! I'm eager to get back to the south end of the U.S. I miss <i>not</i> having four seasons. (Hey, I've lived in Texas, Oklahoma, Vegas, Ecuador, and the caribbean--I crave the hot-hot-heat!) <i>But</i> I'm very happy having been able to <b>finally</b> experience a white Christmas, random snowfalls on Halloween, gorgeous foliage sceneries in the fall (my favorite season), beaches a short drive away, and of course New York City and its tremendous energy (and exquisite fine dining) whenever I felt like it. New Jersey & New York, you will be missed. Now, bring on the blizzard!<br />
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A (class)room with a view. I <b>love</b> my school (stated on this blog for the billion&fifth time). I think I'll miss it more than any other place in Jersey and NY combined. </div>
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"Wait, I forgot to put on lipstick--I look too pale!"...*runs inside for MAC Russian Red...*</div>
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...again with the hand on the head. I had a high bun under the beanie & felt like the hand made the big bulge less noticable. Wrong. </div>
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Licking some snow off my lip, ha!</div>
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Today was fun. (Did I already say that?) I baked a batch of cookies and sat near my window, drew the blinds and just stared, dreamily, at the falling flakes. Snow and I have had a long, complicated love/hate relationship the last three winters. It's beautiful as it falls and absolutely charming in the way it decorates ordinary structures, but oh, dear Snow, why must you cause already-subpar drivers to drive even more like shit and scare the hell out of me while doing so, completely interrupting the moment I'm having while singing softly along to Beach House, so that I have to neurotically restart the song--about 6 times--because I didn't get to 'feel' my favorite part? I hate you for that, more than when you become the annoyingly disgusting brown slush that dirties up said structures and my cute Mini Cooper. But I digress. Snow, if this weekend is the last I see of you before we leave then I'll know that you came as a birthday (it's Sunday) gift to me, and I suppose I should say thank you. <strike>I know</strike> I'm sure your intentions have always been good. </div>
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Was that weird? ^^^ I have had a couple glasses of vodka since coming back inside. Don't judge me, Mom. I needed to warm up, duh. </div>
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Mom, Mona, and anyone else who will happen to see this post, I hope y'all enjoyed the wintry photos and the vodka-induced ramblings of a self-proclaimed <a href="http://ronifeelsnostalgic.blogspot.com/2012/04/bird-is-word.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">tumbleweed</span></a>. </div>
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Until next time!</div>
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<3 a stranger. </div>
Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-68009660270847563942012-10-23T11:21:00.000-07:002012-10-23T11:31:59.727-07:00♥ 1st Blogaversary ♥ You guys, I made it through a whole year of blogging! We're not going to count that one time I took a whole month off and the times where I took a week or two off here and there <i>like this last week</i>. I had actually thought about this day and this post for so many months prior and it honestly just snuck up on me today, so I didn't have much time to plan anything special, which totally bums me out.<br />
I've put together a crapload of random outfit posts I liked throughout the last year here on RFN. It was fun going down memory lane and reviewing all the shitty quality photos I was first publishing. (Many of us have those.) I either picked these because I particularly fancied the outfit, or I just loved the day they were apart of...some were also picked based on good hair days alone. <br />
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So, what have I learned in this first year of blogging? Hmm...</div>
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- I've learned that it's best to keep my babbling to a minimum, which is difficult for someone like me -- I'm a chatter box! Y'all should know, I leave a ton of story-book sized comments :) I can't help it, although, I've gotten better compared to the essay length posts - regarding my day - I was initially writing here; no one had time for all that. <i>But</i>, since this is a commemorative type post, I'm due a little babble sesh. </div>
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- I have been constantly reminded that my schedule to blog is completely unsystematic -- I have no schedule. I post and read when I can, like most of you busy ladies. In the summertime, if I'm not out of state, I am on blogs for like five hours a day, unaware of the time ticking by. But here lately, it's getting to be more and more difficult to post even semi-regularly <i>or</i> read. However, that's to be expected while in school, especially if you're a writing major; I read roughly seven books, plays, short stories, or essays every week and analyze just about all of them...pretty exhausting. With that said, I am <u>beyond appreciative</u> of those of you who still come to my blog, even if it's been a hot minute since I've been to yours. Expect me to pop in on you when I can, and PLEASE don't think that I've forgotten you. I have SO many blogs swirling around in my head just about everyday. Am I the only one that randomly thinks about the blogs they need to catch up on when they're out for lunch or in the middle of a lecture? I look at them for what they are: real life stories that I've developed genuine interest for and when I get behind, I'm like, "what have I missed?" Maybe those are just my problems.<br />
- In the beginning I thought it'd be safest for me to censor myself here. I didn't want to offend anyone. Well, I still don't want to ever intentionally offend anyone, but I'm also most definitely going to be myself in my own little nook of the interwebs. I'm a sweetheart, yes, but I've without a doubt got a colorful language that sometimes does a better job of expressing certain matters than words like "doodyhead" do. Words like "shit" and "asshole" are going to find themselves written here every now and then. So far, no one's offended. Goodie!<br />
- I think the most important thing about the last year with this blog is that I'm still doing it for me, because it's fun, and I've made the kind of friendships I was hoping to when I started it. I always told myself this blog would never be about numbers and doing those comical "follow for a follow" things just so I could reach impressive digits; the majority of those comments strike me as unauthentic and automated, especially when they read, "nice bag, wanna follow each other?" or "great dress, I'm now following, please follow back," when I'm wearing jeans LOL. It gives me the same pleasure to blog for 140 followers as it did when I was doing it solely for the same three friends that were faithfully reading. Not to say it's not wonderful to have all of you, because it totally is! It's just, I follow bloggers' stories because I want to, and I hope that others would do the same. Overall, I didn't/don't want to ever let myself or this blog become insincere, and certainly not automated, if all that makes sense.<br />
I'll cut it here, 'cause I really need a nap before I work on my next assignment. I just knew I couldn't let this day go unnoticed and undocumented, for my own sake. Mikey and I plan to celebrate somehow this weekend. I'm envisioning my new dress (a gift from Mikey for this occasion), cake, and balloons. </div>
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To all of you that made your way here a day ago or the day I started documenting at this web address, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">thank you</span> for finding me <b><i>and</i></b> for choosing to stick around.<br />
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Love,<br />
Roni</div>
Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-59621216953768635182012-10-18T01:06:00.000-07:002012-10-18T01:09:14.324-07:00the little things ♥ <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dahlia dress: ModCloth// Cardi: Express// Tights, flats: Target// Dia de los Muertos bag: Cash 4 Chaos (Vegas) </div>
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So, even though I've been bedridden and miserable the last few days (the flu finally caught me) and I'm sniffling and blowing snot into a tissue while I type this, I still felt it doable to make a list of all the little things I've been grateful for this last week:</div>
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~Having good curly hair days like the one shown above. I mean, c'mon, look at those bouncy spirals - they're fabulous. And they're all natural. </div>
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~Staying in bed for about 15 hours on a rainy day. It was magical. </div>
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~Pumpkin raviolis. Seriously, I'm not making this up. They were to die for!</div>
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~Rediscovering this 6 year old Mexican satchel and using it everyday, even when it doesn't match. </div>
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~Even though having as many visitors as we get throughout the year can be tiresome (we haven't had our home to ourselves since February), it makes me feel really lucky - lucky to have far away friends that haven't forgotten us. We had two friends visit us the last two weeks and have another coming in this weekend. </div>
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~Having a margarita with Mikey at a Mexican restaurant that only plays doo-wop AND country classics. <a href="http://www.thegirlybird.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">Amber</span></a>, I'm pretty sure this is our heaven. </div>
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~Winning a giveaway of something I happened to have on my ModCloth lovelist!! Did I mention I never win..<u>anything</u>?</div>
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~Getting to take home a turkey-sized dish crammed with strawberry cake, rice krispy treats, and Cookie Monster cupcakes from our friends' kid's first birthday party. </div>
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~Watching a shi-ton of horror movies. Well, more than normal. I recently saw the Thai version of the movie Shutter - it was amaaazzinngly creepy. You can see it on Netflix if you wanna.</div>
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~Loving that my Halloween/horror tattoo sleeve is relevant this month. Unfortunately it's getting too cold to show it off with short sleeves. </div>
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Any costume ideas yet? Halloween's almost here!! I've got three ideas for costumes myself and all the pieces are already in my closet so I won't have to spend much money - woo hoo! </div>
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Have a wonderful Thursday, friends. <3 </div>
Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-88372768853049471452012-10-10T06:00:00.000-07:002012-10-10T06:00:05.350-07:00elephant in the room<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The "Walk Like An Egyptian" pose...but not. No, not at all actually. </div>
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Top (came w/belt): Marshall's// Skirt: Ruche// Cardi: Target// Wedges: Cole Haan// Hair bow: American Apparel </div>
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Elephants + Houndstooth! I personally think it works. </div>
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"pop lock and drop it" pose</div>
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Who else here is uncomfortable when things that need to be addressed, aren't? I'm that person that can never just 'pretend' that things are fine. I won't ever ignore what's lurking. I won't<i> </i>refrain from addressing issues to avoid confrontation. Confrontation doesn't always have to be bad. Sometimes it's necessary. Confrontation, in my experience, really just turns into a conversation that is however-long-overdue (two minutes or two years, it needs to be said), so I associate these two words rather closely together. Announcing the elephant provides clarity - this can obviously apply to a wide range of scenarios from personal relations to social gatherings to professional atmospheres. Although, for some reason, and I don't know why this is, some people are fine with going about their business and sweeping things under the rug. (I'm on a roll with idioms today.) I guess they don't like to shake things or don't wanna "go there." Let me, because I don't do well with nodding my head and smiling to things that don't sit right. That being said, I will only hold my tongue to a certain extent, e.g. timing and place. I have just always believed in being brutally honest, while displaying tact of course....Hmm, I'm gonna end this since I tend to ramble, but you get the idea. File this in your brain space as things to know about me. I'm Roni and I'm okay with confrontation. But elephants in the room? I'll point those suckers right out! :)<br />
I'll be getting to the comments from my last post and reading all your blogs tonight since I don't have school till late tomorrow. The last two+ weeks have been insane in the membrane and I don't like feeling like a bad blog friend when I get behind on your lives. And just in case it's been a while since I told y'all, thanks for reading my little blog. It means so much to me! My first blogaversary is actually coming up on the 23rd, eep!!Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-1725927975863009332012-10-08T00:22:00.000-07:002012-10-08T00:22:50.491-07:00It's Arrested Development<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCeRVN6z7vPq8ean-A3MD6IjNJXmMhoKiFnQcdQKs3iO7FetVMSjbjVF_jQJlL8ImO8UptUtjyeL6rAD1wwZGkR-wYA17kw4KiGz-w0pNTsjiWFyksNbO7dbgT8aUEwOGau5LvFarOZFX7/s1600/IMG_4849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCeRVN6z7vPq8ean-A3MD6IjNJXmMhoKiFnQcdQKs3iO7FetVMSjbjVF_jQJlL8ImO8UptUtjyeL6rAD1wwZGkR-wYA17kw4KiGz-w0pNTsjiWFyksNbO7dbgT8aUEwOGau5LvFarOZFX7/s640/IMG_4849.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Blazer: Hot Topic (2006)// Tshirt: Target// Skirt, belt, bag: F21// Tights: ModCloth// Flats: Old Navy// Houndstooth Heels (I changed shoes): Lulu's// Bowler hat: Urban Outfitters</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7iPqcUy5XTyk98mITVqjmcG4qVE_o9b1l2G8ZxmcMI4C3qCQ8l_G0GQSTvZr6HpIzc0gaECrqdKkoUfIPkYhn36Wqe83HW6blPiIw1t-8-ewE8BfCvnRpiqCN_Jg4o9gkSYkco5rdWGNv/s1600/IMG_4818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7iPqcUy5XTyk98mITVqjmcG4qVE_o9b1l2G8ZxmcMI4C3qCQ8l_G0GQSTvZr6HpIzc0gaECrqdKkoUfIPkYhn36Wqe83HW6blPiIw1t-8-ewE8BfCvnRpiqCN_Jg4o9gkSYkco5rdWGNv/s640/IMG_4818.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
This Bluth's Frozen Banana t-shirt is the first thing I bought for myself in what feels like a lifetime. I squealed like a preteen watching a new Justin Bieber video when I saw this shirt in the mens section of Target. It fits like pajama-wear on my frame, but I made do and tucked this baby into a velvet miniskirt for a night of bartending. I was hoping it might attract other Arrested Development fans and encourage some exchanging of favorite Tobias or Gob quotes. It didn't. I overheard two douchebags talking about the banana on my shirt, asking each other about what I <i>really</i> had on my mind, and then bro-laughing when one of them said the word that rhymes with dock, but starts with a C. I finished pouring their drinks and interrupted their boys-locker-room-esque chatter with a simple "were y'all just talking about my shirt?" Their smiles faded and their mouths dropped as they quickly shook their heads and said, "noooo, of course not." (They looked so caught and pathetic.) I told them that penises were far from my mind and that they should spend more time catching up on the brilliance that is Arrested Development and less time looking for phallic correlations in everyday t-shirt designs. One of them spent the rest of the night trying to kiss my ass with small talk each time he came up to the bar, and the other avoided me like the plague, having his friends order his drinks for him. ha! <br />
If you're a fellow Arrested Development mega-fan, please leave one of your favorite quotes in the comments :) And ermergerrrd, who's excited for the NEW season beginning early next year?!! I am, I am!Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-47084971292232939872012-10-06T13:56:00.003-07:002012-10-09T15:29:18.080-07:00Guest Posting...Hey friends,<br />
Come find me over at <a href="http://blytheponytailparades.typepad.com/my-blog/2012/10/guest-post-from-roni-this-is-halloween.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"><b>Blythe Ponytail Parades</b></span></a> today! I'm sharing my Halloween spirit through old costumes and zombie proms. Let's do the Monster Mash together! <3<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2YXmEiIi2ZmDBLtSWB9IU8fznPgPzVIzkxJjpCcCJfQsBp1cgAMqzBKQ_ZdShs5TSdVdShUOtHOHxP4w9sHGh0GdhOme4MuSfv7Pmaqufsi0e3hT-rk7njvaMMrkjn-R2FGG5s2RW1JtH/s1600/DSC04002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2YXmEiIi2ZmDBLtSWB9IU8fznPgPzVIzkxJjpCcCJfQsBp1cgAMqzBKQ_ZdShs5TSdVdShUOtHOHxP4w9sHGh0GdhOme4MuSfv7Pmaqufsi0e3hT-rk7njvaMMrkjn-R2FGG5s2RW1JtH/s640/DSC04002.JPG" width="575" /></a></div>
<br />Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-70865518037505396312012-10-04T07:42:00.000-07:002012-10-04T07:42:19.766-07:00oldies but goodies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEl07s3tzpX53345kEyIotX3t95TNdvoNTp6XJf2951QUtsb14IufI1nfLlJiWJozyX6g9moMIuPJLYdAZPrzFBV7AiapmfQmv_IccmIcTuTbqwCPivNnzMw43YIV2EmgouvqlUsV1Rz_d/s1600/IMG_4785.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEl07s3tzpX53345kEyIotX3t95TNdvoNTp6XJf2951QUtsb14IufI1nfLlJiWJozyX6g9moMIuPJLYdAZPrzFBV7AiapmfQmv_IccmIcTuTbqwCPivNnzMw43YIV2EmgouvqlUsV1Rz_d/s640/IMG_4785.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9szk8p6I_sG3NVgbIhxNEwX4rgqvF0nCNpiv-mDi8QpUq9qgA2UMExHnDJJMHNH09zyboHMQ6FW76BnhewhDG1iVIbbsuBKUqHo6A1ysJZvbrVg13Jy2LQDfKCmWMLo32R4T37YcqqBPj/s1600/IMG_4791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9szk8p6I_sG3NVgbIhxNEwX4rgqvF0nCNpiv-mDi8QpUq9qgA2UMExHnDJJMHNH09zyboHMQ6FW76BnhewhDG1iVIbbsuBKUqHo6A1ysJZvbrVg13Jy2LQDfKCmWMLo32R4T37YcqqBPj/s640/IMG_4791.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7zi5KA4bkq7us9aVU0XUUrPqYqaW5qYo2_KGE2BwZp73rU6j8oV6ntrUy86mhzXgQIKurrTeKxn1cQnTWS9fafV7vGNx0G6Ku_Ey9DqUtpW73fyWpogW7B_2sBoSz2K2iHJIFzAadal-A/s1600/IMG_4790.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7zi5KA4bkq7us9aVU0XUUrPqYqaW5qYo2_KGE2BwZp73rU6j8oV6ntrUy86mhzXgQIKurrTeKxn1cQnTWS9fafV7vGNx0G6Ku_Ey9DqUtpW73fyWpogW7B_2sBoSz2K2iHJIFzAadal-A/s640/IMG_4790.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Dress: Ruche// Cardi: F21// Belt: H&M// Tights: <a href="http://www.modcloth.com/shop/tights/tights-for-every-occasion-in-mustard"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">ModCloth</span></a>// Irregular Choice Scottie Dog heels via ModCloth</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn6YJCZPM0Z39_rPkHVHIiN4BZnw6hBMsHV2EADVVm5J-t-zStzfA2pP6w5J2evCC0m6-2IFxchvQvLSAhhpNzaHRSatq91UZFNW0Y5HJU3121h5areDQiLXcf-lKsp6RyCw-qT-Jb4B6z/s1600/IMG_4788.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn6YJCZPM0Z39_rPkHVHIiN4BZnw6hBMsHV2EADVVm5J-t-zStzfA2pP6w5J2evCC0m6-2IFxchvQvLSAhhpNzaHRSatq91UZFNW0Y5HJU3121h5areDQiLXcf-lKsp6RyCw-qT-Jb4B6z/s640/IMG_4788.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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In keeping on with shopping my closet, I am happy with all the pretty things I keep finding on the shelves and racks (it really is like a store in there - <i>but shopping in a real one would be even more fun</i>). For instance, these whimsical little heels. How cute are they?! I've had them for quite a while now and I still can't get over the scottie dog, the polka dot bows, & the hearts...guh! And this cardigan, I've had forever but only worn once! But this sweet, creamy lace dress I've worn the crap out of. (Shown on the blog once before <a href="http://ronifeelsnostalgic.blogspot.com/2012/02/bejeweled.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">here</span></a>.) I suppose this shopping dry spell I'm in has really given me a new appreciation for all those "old" items that were feeling left out. I hate to think these darling doggy shoes ever felt like they were not good enough :) </div>
Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-19651400040383631452012-10-02T04:12:00.000-07:002012-10-02T04:12:36.484-07:00Wishlist stuffFirst off, I wanted to say thanks for all the good vibes! My school checks came in. Now we're just waiting on Mikey's. The last two months have been extremely tight as far as not having play money <u>whatsoever</u>, but the most important thing is that no bill went unpaid or paid late for that matter, and of course we didn't starve. Whew! You can imagine that during this time I've had plenty of growing wishlists at ModCloth, ASOS, Etsy, Ruche, etc. for when things get back to normal and I can resume expanding my favorite room in the apartment: <a href="http://ronifeelsnostalgic.blogspot.com/2012/02/my-closet-tour-finally.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"><b>my closet</b></span></a>. Here are a few of my most coveted items at ModCloth:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuv9ncG0ZkBGaNDe0zpmKh6qmLkPU_UMbv1Yx4-QNK7R6p9o3PGEfIGAx4JPbLK4pRQX1S8ruD8f-pti28JEY8XNhw4WN-UPSRZrsGDml0CzX6vQKhpBRRGxZR3q6r-4UZ8S-Wprmsarnz/s1600/dd540216b51e4e8d677c078e1be07b51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuv9ncG0ZkBGaNDe0zpmKh6qmLkPU_UMbv1Yx4-QNK7R6p9o3PGEfIGAx4JPbLK4pRQX1S8ruD8f-pti28JEY8XNhw4WN-UPSRZrsGDml0CzX6vQKhpBRRGxZR3q6r-4UZ8S-Wprmsarnz/s400/dd540216b51e4e8d677c078e1be07b51.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
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I can't even explain how bad I need <a href="http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/children-s-theater-director-dress"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">this dress</span></a>. It kinda brings tears to my eyes.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMT_0xw_f_pj-93iMzHezzHVyskGVNPXdIsP76DLq0R8WT-P_LrWEKAw6rUSBM5LQtLBgX18xSofzsxEtPTnMwIxmRQbihNXkzbRicnfaoaJUWzMtB-_hKL2iusya6T3QAVABpm5Quxaw/s1600/ab796d88374d14b505d83178f0d5cd99.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMT_0xw_f_pj-93iMzHezzHVyskGVNPXdIsP76DLq0R8WT-P_LrWEKAw6rUSBM5LQtLBgX18xSofzsxEtPTnMwIxmRQbihNXkzbRicnfaoaJUWzMtB-_hKL2iusya6T3QAVABpm5Quxaw/s400/ab796d88374d14b505d83178f0d5cd99.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
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A dress after my own 50's doo-wop heart; <a href="http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/let-s-go-for-a-drive-in-dress"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">this dress</span></a> IS "Roni feels nostalgic" </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZOh9o5AIgnOtj5OiaLkyDkWWmT3RsNi4Z5EsB5WnJd7t_sMb3x93sb0B7GDFSaLIODxNDYxSd63hh3RwA2COwO3A7dUnSj6lYx5xwYSUJt3QHjW_V07T1pAfpK-K0w_AaDEbQgiBelbx/s1600/99232fd7d3db4324aaa9b30155e7c99f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZOh9o5AIgnOtj5OiaLkyDkWWmT3RsNi4Z5EsB5WnJd7t_sMb3x93sb0B7GDFSaLIODxNDYxSd63hh3RwA2COwO3A7dUnSj6lYx5xwYSUJt3QHjW_V07T1pAfpK-K0w_AaDEbQgiBelbx/s400/99232fd7d3db4324aaa9b30155e7c99f.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/sew-it-would-seamstress-dress"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">This dress</span></a> could be my <a href="http://ronifeelsnostalgic.blogspot.com/2012/04/friendly-visits-stephanie.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">junk-food print dress'</span></a> BFF. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrM9x7HjGfyQ4Y2qijSUG4bWh_yBsaGKJ5UrnbSrNNEDDa0E_ZjHqXPnOiyOO4XNWJAq-BFw6TIBkuI0wlh9h6Rymc4_XUTgxJ-TV6aEaAPR7ONrExFTRaTw-cFD1rOojstL0r93aqMGde/s1600/4c9930679661daa9435caeaa97bd53ee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrM9x7HjGfyQ4Y2qijSUG4bWh_yBsaGKJ5UrnbSrNNEDDa0E_ZjHqXPnOiyOO4XNWJAq-BFw6TIBkuI0wlh9h6Rymc4_XUTgxJ-TV6aEaAPR7ONrExFTRaTw-cFD1rOojstL0r93aqMGde/s400/4c9930679661daa9435caeaa97bd53ee.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>
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Red is my favorite color (or so I've discovered by scoping out my closet). I am beyond obsessed with the bow pockets of <a href="http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/haute-to-fox-trot-dress"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">this darling frock</span></a>!</div>
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There's a sentimental factor in this one: <a href="http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/gimme-an-a-piary-dress"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">the bee print</span></a>. It reminds me of my mommy. Her name is Beatrice but everyone calls her "Bea" and she signs off her letters with a little bumble bee. <3</div>
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Finally, <a href="http://www.modcloth.com/shop/coats/the-enchanting-illustrator-coat"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">this coat</span></a>. Oh, this coat. For some reason it reminds me of elementary school. I like that. </div>
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Hopefully soon I can find one of these babies hanging in my closet. What pretty things are y'all hankering for?</div>
Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-31962680460237520392012-10-01T09:28:00.001-07:002012-10-01T14:12:35.190-07:00September rejectsHere are a couple outfits that didn't make it to their own big-girl posts last month.<br />
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I call this one, "Put a top hat on it!"</div>
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Skirt & t-shirt: ModCloth//Belt: F21//Top hat headband: Claire's//Ruby Street Little Kennedy Bag: Kate Spade<br />
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This one is my [shameless], "Bloating & Fatigue" for <i>those days</i> when you need elasticity at your belly </div>
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Blouse: H&M//Skirt: Hollister (from the early 2000's)//Flats: ModCloth//Necklace: F21</div>
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And with that, HELLO OCTOBER!! My favorite month of the year! (Omg this year has gone by wayyy too fast! It feels like just yesterday that I had to brave up and embrace my birthday and getting <i>even</i> older.) Sorry this post is a bit "meh" but I've been a busy bee and my blog has unfortunately taken the back burner for the last several days. Hopefully things slow down this week, but I somehow doubt it. I'll be getting to your comments and blogs tonight or tomorrow on my break. Happy Monday!Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-61147567012100219692012-09-27T07:12:00.000-07:002012-09-27T15:04:13.560-07:00Friendly visits: team VegasBack in July a group of our old Vegas friends paid us a visit for four sweet days. The first night in town we took a necessary trip to Clash Bar and indulged in many martinis and s'mores vodka shots. That's right, s'mores flavor - it's amazing. So, here's Chappie, myself, T, and Kimmy or "the Asian invasion" as we are better known. I know it's cliche, and I'm not even Asian. They just deem me so.<br />
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The next day we went over to Justina's (who also flew into town) house for a bbq. She is another Vegas friend who is coincidentally from the city Mikey and I currently live. </div>
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Another night, all but Justina and Mikey went out to Splash, a fabulous gay nightclub in New York City. It was a Sunday night and although it was pretty dead, we owned that dance floor and made the huge space our own personal playground till the lights came on.<br />
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Quite possibly my favorite picture of the night. </div>
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Unisex bathrooms! T is the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/JessicaandHunter?feature=CAQQwRs%3D"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">Hunter to my Jessica</span></a> <3 (watch their videos) I'm not kidding, that is exactly how we talk to each other every time we're together. </div>
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A cool picture Chappie took of my shoe</div>
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The last day was spent in New York City, walking through Central Park, Times Square, and eating street hot dogs. You know, the fun touristy stuff. Unfortunately, T flew home early that morning.<br />
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And with that, I'll leave you with two quotes that I couldn't stop thinking about after I separated from the military and reflected on what it brought to my life, what I find to be the most valuable gift:<br />
~ "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard." -A.A. Milne<br />
~ "Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes." -Henry David ThoreauRoni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-77091537286880611322012-09-25T00:33:00.000-07:002012-09-25T00:33:16.217-07:00"Baby's got her blue jeans on"This post title is after one of my <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-cHaufA26B8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"><b>favorite old country songs</b></span></a>. I have many a'memories singing along and struttin' my stuff (on the porch) to this jam when I was just a little tyke. (Why do I think you did the same thing, <a href="http://www.thegirlybird.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">Amber</span></a>?) <br />
So, on rare occasion when I slip into a pair of blue jeans, you can bet this song is playing in my head, making my ensemble go -again, <i>in my head</i>- from casual to "Hey, hey, sexy betch coming through." haha Ohhh.<br />
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Shirt: Urban Outfitters// Jeggings: American Eagle// Seychelles Clue Heel: Endless// Satchel: Thrifted// Beanie: old</div>
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the smelling-my-pits pose</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX31bLQr_aDnE-5Tp7UVAe_xhLAnMZ3nR0E2FTxcxT__iDrJb5KwAxq2rBW9rne2fo-noTyi_U4VqM9qMOHOZIBCZh_s55DwL9JpubHUgsw5THux9yIDFCefLqYj1fgCpdFIzXoizDDXKS/s1600/DSC01834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX31bLQr_aDnE-5Tp7UVAe_xhLAnMZ3nR0E2FTxcxT__iDrJb5KwAxq2rBW9rne2fo-noTyi_U4VqM9qMOHOZIBCZh_s55DwL9JpubHUgsw5THux9yIDFCefLqYj1fgCpdFIzXoizDDXKS/s640/DSC01834.JPG" width="447" /></a></div>
About this <b>extreme</b> close up: I told Mikey I wanted a head shot [at a distance]; he took this face/headless shot. I was like "noooo" when I looked at the picture. I hate closeups. Why? Because I get self conscious about my bad, oily skin, huge pores <i>and</i> I don't have photoshop. Buuut I looked at it again and was like, "Screw it. I'm happy, healthy, I love my smile (even though I have a little lipstick on my teeth!), and bad skin or not, I love me. All of me." There's enough people in the world (usually hiding behind their computer screens) being so harshly critical of one another...why do it to yourself?!<br />
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Confidence feels good, but I will forever battle with just enough shyness to keep me on my toes :) </div>
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I hope you ladies are having a fabulous week...and smiling beautifully through it! xo <3Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-34425858922700218132012-09-19T23:41:00.004-07:002012-10-23T22:50:11.246-07:00Playing with my money is like playing with my emotions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9gpZmOWodiH6wQh02H5rq3DHLzN8RGzLchGa6EApuCadqfSNPCckzk0qjFVWZHnJ1uYl13bFiel5r9u2BG8H0TYSOG4M0Ltm9XmoUxlU1NWRbM4OhKCsrgQAW1ZrMxt2pMQBM0Rc-VFMJ/s1600/IMG_20120906_131906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9gpZmOWodiH6wQh02H5rq3DHLzN8RGzLchGa6EApuCadqfSNPCckzk0qjFVWZHnJ1uYl13bFiel5r9u2BG8H0TYSOG4M0Ltm9XmoUxlU1NWRbM4OhKCsrgQAW1ZrMxt2pMQBM0Rc-VFMJ/s640/IMG_20120906_131906.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Romper: Ruche// Cardigan: Red Dress Shoppe// Brogues: Endless// School bag: ModCloth// Hair bow used as bow tie c/o <a href="http://coralclover.storenvy.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"><b>Coral Clover</b></span></a> (one of my sweet Instagram pals!)</div>
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So check this out. Other than bartending every now and again on weekends, going to school is my full time job and my/our source of income. Mikey and I, having served in the military, are granted free education through what's called the GI Bill. Not only is our tuition absolutely covered, but we each get a separate paycheck just for going to school, therefore, we <i>don't</i> get paid when we aren't enrolled, e.g. during summer. So it <i>is</i> a job. A pretty sweet deal, yes, but it came with its cost and I feel veterans are more than deserving of this privilege. But I digress. It's nearing October and where we usually get paid precisely on the last day of the month, we have yet to see our August checks. We're also still waiting on our book stipends, a separate check that covers the cost of books each semester. The VA (Veterans Affairs office) is backed up by like, A LOT, on sending out paychecks to all of us vets. Basically we've been big time homebodies eating a ton of sandwiches, egg concoctions, and Ramens...which is typical college life anyway I suppose. But we're not used to this so it sucks (plus I haven't shopped in an eternity!). Dear VA head honchos: You don't want me to go all Big Worm on you, because <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWUGgcjihFY"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"><b>playing with my money is like playing with my emotions</b></span></a>. And I don't like it. So please send us our dinero. Now. </div>
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And friends, please send good vibes our way so that Mikey can get one of these jobs he's applied to since graduating college this summer! (He's only enrolled in school again this semester so that he can help bring in money until he gets a call from a potential job opportunity.) Thanks in advance. </div>
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I hope your weeks are going well! :)</div>
Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-13476920728684200082012-09-17T23:11:00.000-07:002012-09-17T23:14:35.316-07:00Ain't nobody got time for thatThings have been crazy busy here. With school mostly. I can't even tell you how many books/plays I've been reading a week (in the whole <i>almost</i>-month we've been back to school, ha! I'm such a weenie). The next time my professors assign homework, I just wanna respond with crazy eyes and "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nh7UgAprdpM"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">Ain't nobody got time for that!</span></a>" (<i>I love all the memes & parodies for this video - hilarious!</i>)<br />
I have a chunk of deadlines to meet, for school and non-school related projects. I do apologize to my friends that I've kept waiting for stuff from me. I haaate making people wait and I feel horrible when I don't do something in the time I said I'd do it, e.g. not having my vlog posted by Friday...or Saturday...or Sunday. One day this week Mikey will show me how to edit the thing so it's not the length of a tv show.<br />
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Dress: F21// Bag, Seychelles pumps: ModCloth// Flower clip: Ruche</div>
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I really should have painted my toenails before I photographed these feet, <i>but</i> I direct you to this post's title. </div>
This is what I wore to school a couple weeks ago after I'd seen a few of my blog friends wearing one of my favorite color combos, yellow & green. I felt inspired to do the same. Granted I wore <i>mustard</i> and green, but whatevs. It was my "summer is about to meet fall" tribute. ;)<br />
I hope your weeks are going swell, my friends. Sweet dreams <3Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-60540850464541056482012-09-13T09:45:00.001-07:002012-09-13T22:19:09.479-07:00small talk <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dress: Nishe via ASOS// Granny cardigan: F21// Brogues: Endless// Hair bow: American Apparel</div>
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It was SO chilly when I headed to school one morning this week. The realization that fall is rapidly approaching kind of bummed me out. What was once my absolute favorite season is now regarded as the prelude to my winter blues. Don't get me wrong, I love layering, my impressive collection of tights, cozy cardigans, and any excuse to wear a cute printed scarf, but my relationship with fall went from "in a relationship" to "it's complicated" when we moved to the northeast. I still adore fall when it's here, yes, but I don't <i>wish</i> for it to come anymore because I feel like it's just gone in a blur, so happy to make way for the prolonged, butt-shivering winters that I loathe more than all the habitual red light runners and rear-ending tailgaters of New Jersey. <br />
And on that sourpuss note, y'all have a great rest of your week! :) Oh, that vlog I wanted to post by Friday will likely come Saturday or Sunday now...I was having a ton of problems fidgeting and looking down as I responded to the questions, so it's going to require some editing. Why am I so awkward?!Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-57852524816418976942012-09-11T22:46:00.000-07:002012-09-11T22:46:01.704-07:00el oh el <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aFpjl-nnW5A?fs=1" width="480"></iframe><br />
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Guys, I wasn't even going to blog tonight - I'm exhausted and so ready for bed. BUT my crazy husband decided to make <b>the most random</b> and extremely hilarious video before turning in for the night. It's a montage that features [mostly boozy] household moments with our pets and friends/neighbors. I literally have watched it about a dozen times and my tummy hurts from the laughter. Oh, the best part is he randomly selected the background song and we googled it - it's Ginger, from the Spice Girls. The song's horrible but takes the video to that level of ridiculousness that I adore. Maybe you'll find it equally humorous, maybe you won't. But here it is. Goodnight! xo</div>
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*<b>Note</b>: You might have to click "watch on YouTube", but it'll work there if it doesn't here.</div>
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*<b>Also</b>: Our pup Bowie was not affected from accidentally getting his head bumped (by Kiser). Nor was he hurt when again, Kiser, played spin the bottle with him. Poor, Bowie. At least he knows how to rock a sweater vest.*</div>
Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4864465321302250860.post-22525350545140552792012-09-10T08:58:00.001-07:002012-09-11T18:06:55.661-07:00"I've got a date with the night"[post title from song by the Yeah Yeah Yeah's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGNHQKeoSGY"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"><b>here</b></span></a> - listen to it, it's bad ass. I always get so revved up when I hear it. I played it on repeat the whole way home from school on Friday.]<br />
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Judith March dress, oxford pumps: ModCloth (a long time ago)// Clutch: so old, I don't even remember </div>
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All [last] week long I kept finding myself thinking, "boy, I could use a glass of wine or a martini right about now"; usually when I found my face buried in books that were less than sort-of-interesting and typing up analytic papers. So by the time Friday rolled around and I suffered through reading a play with way too much stage direction, 8:30 couldn't come fast enough - Clash Bar opens at 8:30. (Another reason I miss Vegas: bars were open all day, everyday. But let me clarify, I'm nowhere near an alcoholic; I just like a drink here and there and wish that anytime I wanted one, there was a groovy bar ready and open.) Anywho, Mikey and I headed to Clash where our friend Bob served me up two John Waters-melon martinis, a salty pretzel shot, and a cider. Needless to say, that was a little much. I sang (more like, shouted) a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=il3a7iM8NHM"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"><b>country song</b></span></a> out the passenger window of my car on the way home to people standing on their stoops, ate a slice of chocolate cake when I got home, made friendly with porcelain, and passed the heck out. Thankfully I was hangover free Saturday morning! Nothing sucks more than losing a whole day in bed because you were a Boozy Suzy the night before. Other than that, the rest of my weekend was spent watching Celebrity Ghost Stories on the couch - I'm seriously addicted to that show.<br />
How were y'alls weekends? Anyone <i>really</i> enjoy him or herself like me? hehe Have a great week back at work, school, etc.!Roni E.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12615759299179336851noreply@blogger.com33