155 Beauty Days

I don't think I ever truly appreciated the beauty of weekends. The option of sleeping in or rising early. The option of eating pre-breakfast, breakfast, breakfast snack, or brunch. Or even lunch! The options are almost totally overwhelming.

Speaking of that "o" word. It seems to be the word of the week here in Grace Young's mind. I keep thinking about what is over-whelming. Sometimes what is under-whelming. Now, what is over-whelming is the thought that we never say that something is just whelming. I don't even know if that is a word. Something to consider for today.

I love the weekends because it affords me the opportunity to dress however I want. I have the time to cook and ride my bike, and do other stuff that is totally fun and loving. I am excited for each following weekend, not so much because I dislike my job, but merely because that me time is decadently splendiforous.

I'm never over-whelmed or under-whelmed on weekends. Instead, I am just perfectly whelmed. If overwhelm means overcome with emotions... whelming must mean...

154 NEW CAMERA

Fancy new camera. It's part of how I feel upgrading my life.

153 Teacher Swag

I am trying to bring more of my swaggerific fabulousity into my teaching wardrobe. I find that this is good for several reasons. First, it leads some of my troubled students into paying more attention to me. Second, it makes me feel good and confident. Third, it makes me feel happy. Fourth, I like to look fancy. Five, it is a good way to switch it up.

Actually, this was my second favorite outfit from last week. I may re-create this other outfit this week.

This is a lame-o post. Wah.

152 I stand with PP.

Let me tell you a story. When I was a virginal junior in high school, I accompanied my quavering frienemy to Planned Parenthood. We were both broke. Too broke to buy McDonalds probably. But she had a working car that could take us to Planned P. She went to a party the night before and she thought she got roofied and woke up next to some dude. She had to get a pregnancy test and thats how we ended up here.

Fast forward to December of every year until last. I will not lie. I went to Planned P to get HIV/AIDS tests, STD check ups, birth control, and pap smears. They made me feel safe. They encouraged me to be safe. The House has cut funding for Planned Parenthoods, and instead of making a very serious post, I thought I would just honestly come out and say this:

Support Planned Parenthood.

What I did not finish is that after that frienemy and I went to Planned P she drove me by his house, we saw him get in his car, and he essentially speeded to the freeway and tried to lose us. Which he did. But not without her following his past almost 5 exits, cursing loudly with me clutching the strap above the door and my feet on the dash terrified. That is the closest I have ever gotten to a car chase.

151 Simple Love

UGHH LOVE CLOGS!!!

Wore this to church and do errands. Errands included getting my taxes done for the first time. Since I made "so little" this year only submitting half a years worth of income, it resulted in future big ballin for me. I am going to save it to go towards my student loans and maybe buy a new purse. Or a new computer. And that will be it.

I really love crop tops. I feel like they have infiltrated my personal wardrobe, bring bundles of joy along the way. There is something about this stunted shirt that brings forth tons of nostalgic shoulda woulda couldas. When I was young, I'd look longingly at crop tops and this, gosh. One day. That day is now.

I sincerely believe that people should dress their age. At that age, when the desire first sprung, I would have looked very inappropriate and like my parents were selling me. But now, when I wear crop tops, it screams success! No, but it makes me feel fabulous. I'm old enough to correctly dismiss come-ons but not old enough to insight rousing from cubs (as a cougar).

Also, to end this post in a perfect circle: clogs are awesome.

150 Work Wear

When I knew that I would first have to enter the professional world (of teaching lol), I had this temporary freak out of a personal style identity crisis. There I was, fully dress in a short black skirt, knowing that soon that piece of clothing would no longer fly (let alone act as a scarf). I immediately headed to H&M twice a week, scouring the sale rack for some good basic work clothes. I went to Crossroads almost religiously, as I went every Sunday after church, and picked up anything I could semi qualify as work clothes. In the end, I was left with some great stuff, some good stuff, and I whole lot of crap.

For example: I own a plethora of what I lovingly refer to as gay pirate shirts. I love billowy white shirts. I look terrible in them. Paired with a pair of trusty black skinny trousers and some dress shoes, the result is tres Pirates of the Gayrribean. Maybe I will post all my gay pirate shirts as a homage to the ending of Seinfield. Or maybe I will let them rot in my closet to be caressed gently a few times a year as I try to find ways for them to work.

Anyways, the point is that I have found a good place to be in terms of my clothes. I can blindly grab at stuff now in the morning, thanks to a truly excellent storage system I have worked in. I am staying true to my color scheme (all black everything baby). I wear my daily swag right. Yup.

I also feel this post is necessary since five days a week I am wearing these kinds of clothes. I mostly get stopped for my business fab now so I guess it makes sense to post it.

Also note: no heels. On the bright side, I now own two pairs of clogs.

149 Warm Welcomes

Lately this intense ATL weather has followed this strange pattern. Monday through Thursday, it will be unbearably cold and I will hate my life. Then, come Saturday and Sunday, the weather will cheer up considerably until it sees me decked out in sheer shirts, cutoff jorts, and clogs.

The truth is, weather highly dictates what it ensemble for our bodies. Will I wear a bikini in a snow storm? Possibly. Will I wear long pants in weather over 75degrees? Hell no.

I think that the inner California that is nestled in my warm soul is crying out in frustrated desperation. Free me! I hear the cries. Let me be pant free! I have to walk away. Or I will crumble.

There was snow on my car today. I also lost my voice.