KiKi La'Rue review: I am clearly not a fashion blogger

(Disclosure: I feel silly and a bit pompous doing this FTC disclosure, as if the frickin FTC cares at ALL whether I'm unduly influencing anyone.. but since I'm a few months shy of becoming an attorney, and my Bar Application is being gone over with a fine tooth comb, I have the legal-fear-of-god (yes, it's a thing) and therefore I am dutifully complying with the real disclosure: nobody paid me to say anything, I won a giveaway, was blown away by their customer service, and wanted to toot their horn. Mkay? Cool.)

SO, a while back, I won a giveaway on Raven's blog. (I'll wait while you stop over there, if you haven't already. She's hilar. --> does anyone else dislike these kind of abbreviations? I thought I'd try it on and I.just.can't. It feels awkward coming out of me... moving on.

Anyway I was sitting on my store credit for what felt like an eternity (probably was about a week) and I finally bit the bullet and got the Dancin' in the Moonlight dress in coral. Pretty, no? I've always wanted a one shoulder dress,... but with how small I am, it's a dangerous online buy. Sometimes it leaves a bit too much of my upper-boob area showing, and I look all sorts of unfortunate. I rolled the dice, because I loved the ruffles and the coral, but alas.. my freakishly small frame strikes again. It's a great dress! On a normal sized human. Anyway, I agonized over whether to sew some "bullets" in it (is that what they're called? to snug it up?) or doing something to make it work, because a) I felt bad after all the communication we'd had about GETTING the dress, and b) returning something is a lot of work.

I finally decided I'd give it a shot at returning it. YES it was free, but I may as well get something I like.

Silly me didn't pay any attention to the 14-day return policy. I emailed them and they SO graciously made an exception for moi, and worked with me to return the first dress, and get a second dress ordered. The shipping of both was on me, but hey, small price to pay for great customer service AND another "free" dress (using my shop credit/exchange). I ended up with a dress I like and that FITS wonderfully, and was not made to feel stupid or berated for missing the deadline! What more do you want in a clothing boutique? oh yes, for them to be in MN and not TX, but that's neither here nor there. ;-)

So I get home last night late after bar review and I see the hot pink envelope.. I rip into it, and try it on. I LOVE it. I had this great plan of waiting until M came home to take a "nice" photo of me.. you know, with my hair done..and preferably after I'd showered. Alas, I have no patience. (and I still haven't showered today... we have a wedding tonight so I wanted to do it closer to the time of the wedding so I look fresh)

Anyway, SO I started snapping away with my phone. Looked a little somethin' like this:

 Ah yes. Blurry. Oh and the only floor length mirror in the house is in the hall closet.. so, hey there broom in the corner!

 And then there was my attempt at showing you guys that my nails matched the coral stripes PERFECTLY.... just ignore my gnawed up fingers and ghetto chipped nails. My hygiene is apparently sub par while studying.

 And thennnnn I had the great idea to take an "artsy" photo in the mirror.. so you could see my cute little dresser and then me. Except, I look like I have no legs. Please, call me stumpy.

 Let's not forget the "instagram" style outfit shot. Fail. Gratuitous boob shot with awful lighting. BUT you can see the cool twisted roping detail at the neckline, that then turns into the straps!

 Another attempt at the full length mirror... this time my leg looks like it's disjointed and you can see not only the broom in the closet, but a roll of TP and some sunscreen. I'm so fancy, you guys.

aannnddd lastly, bringing it all back home, is TJ- keeping me humble. I think the photo says it all.

So, points to take from this post: 1) KiKi LaRue has FANTASTIC customer service, 2) adorable and affordable dresses! 3) I am NOT a fashion blogger 4) I got photobombed by my cat.

-Kelly

Let's chat 50 Shades of Grey

This is not a review of 50 Shades of Grey. If you want that, you may as well stop reading and head elsewhere. This is a rant. I'd like to take this opportunity to address all the people who are calling this book "porn" and "shit-literature" and "the worst thing EVER WRITTEN" to tell them the following: grow. the fuck. up.

 

Now, what do I mean by that? I'm a 25 year old girl with a B.A. in English and a J.D. who considers herself fairly educated. I take particular offense to people who imply that I am somehow juvenile, perverted, or "ridiculous" for enjoying this series and that nobody of substance or with half a brain could possible do so. Is it the best book that's EVER been written? No. Is it in line to win a Pullitzer? HELL no. Does that mean I'm not allowed to read it and enjoy it and appreciate it for what it is? ABSOLUTELY not.

I've felt this way for some time now, and this post was prompted by a status I saw last night on Facebook. Here it is:

 

STATUS: 50 shades of grey is probably the WORST book of all time. It is "Twilight" with soft core porn scenes added in. Comparisons between the two? The main character is a completely plain never-been-kissed, overly-mature-for-her-age woman who lives in Washington. Her mother is free-spirited, childish, and in another state. The love interest is an inexplicably handsome, wealthy man that women far more a...ttractive, socially competent, and all around better catch than Plain Jane would die to date. He also is exceptionally dangerous and warns Plain Jane to stay away from him even though he can't bare to save her innocence himself by keeping his distance. Just add in some extremely poorly written porn scenes to differentiate an awful unrealistic teenage drama from a sexual frustrated adult woman's dream. I can't even bring myself to finish the book it is that bad. OK, that's the end of my soapbox rant. If you haven't read it, DON'T.

 

Which was then followed up (amongst a chain of commenters) by a comment from the status maker:

 

COMMENT:

I'm just really curious as to what the intrigue with it is. I knew nothing about the book going in, I had heard it's name somewhere and figured it would be good so I borrowed it from a friend. The writing was very juvenile at best, like it was supposed to be directed to pre-teen kids, but obviously not. At first I referred to the writing as "casual", but by 1/3 in, I wanted to tell the chick to grow up and act her age. I just didn't see the suspense, it was all sex and no actual substance or plot for that matter. It sends the wrong message about relationships, and this Christian Grey guy is the textbook definition of abusive (maybe some of the physical "abuse" is consensual and part of the BDSM relationship, but he is very emotionally controlling as well). It's kind of scary honestly that people can read this and think it's some wonderful love story. Those kind of relationships are not wonderful romances to dream about. I'd honestly go so far as to give the prize of better awful book to Twilight because it at least included some suspense and action. But maybe I missed the entire point of 50 shades.......

 

In my not-so-humble opinion, I think it makes YOU the pretentious asshole for getting on a soapbox about how you are "above" a cultural phenomenon. It's not for you? Fine. But to be constantly blasting how you're "above" it does NOT make you intelligent, it makes you JUVENILE. AND a bully, for shaming people into feeling embarassed or bad that they enjoyed it. 

 

In spite of the fact that yes, it does appear as though the author picked up a thesaurus at times and slapped down random, out of context, words. 

 

In spite of the fact that yes, sometimes, some of the sex scenes are entirely superfluous.

 

And blasting it as "setting the wrong example for a relationship to dream about"...? If people are reading this as a template for a normal, healthy, loving relationship.. well.. maybe they're the ones who need to see Dr. Flynn. (HA. HA. inside joke for those who have read the book). I don't think it's an author's job, unless they're writing a self-help book about healthy relationships, to make sure they're constantly cognizant of the "proper" messages. We, as adults, can glean from the book what we want. Does every book need to send a message? Have in depth, complex character development, cultural significance, and themes that could be subjected to detailed textual analysis in a 100 level college course? NO. As long as it's not being read to kindergarteners at story time, I see no issue

 

I spend all damn day reading caselaw and dissecting the difference that a comma makes in interpreting the rule, depending on where it's placed. So does that mean I have to go home and spend my free time reading Bronte novels? I think I'm allowed to be intelligent and then turn my brain off and read drivel. Thanks.

 

If you are reading this and haven't read the books or don't want to because you don't like what you've heard about them, that's cool. We're cool. Just don't be an asshole about it.

 

-Kelly

 

Friday's Letters

Dear Friday, what TOOK you so long?

Dear Baby TJ, Look little buddy.. I love you, but while we're staying at M's mom's, and we're all stuck in the same room, you need to NOT stomp all over my face at 3 a.m., or stick your whiskers up my nose, or knock shit over on the dresser. Your alternative is being set free in the main house... with the dogs. Kapeesh?

Dear M, I'm SO happy you're home. I feel 80% less like someone will break into the house to kill me at any time. (The other 20% remains because we watch WAY too many Datelines, Criminal Minds, and 20/20s....)

Dear Stomach, welp... we've had a bag of chips by 9:30 and I KNOW you want more but you're just going to have to hang on for 2 more hours.

Dear legal research, write yourself. I'm quite tired of you. Actually thanks to Baby TJ I'm quite tired in general. frick.

Dear 50 Shades Freed, Well, I finally BOUGHT you.. a week and a half after finishing the other 2... nowwwww to find time to read you. And not neglect M. Or studying. hmer.

Dear Saturday, I'd say I'm looking forward to you and sleepin in but OH WAIT, I have a lecture for 3 and a half hours. at 9:00 a.m. On a Saturday. GOSH I love barbri.

I'm weird. No, REALLY.

So.. I'm slowly starting to realize if I just post about my weekends, or food, or DIY, or wedding there will not be another post until July.. because studying for the bar exam has stolen my SOUL. SO I'm taking 10 minutes out of dominating this research memo on defense and indemnification clauses (be jealous of my lifeee) to do a random post, after thinking about it, and seeing Kristin do something similar once...about just how weird, I actually am. Here's hoping you people stick around after this post.

1. When I get really excited, anxious, nervous, mad...basically any emotion with too much "oomph".. I do what M has started referring to as a "clench".. to release said emotion, my whole body gets really tight, usually I smile, but it's like a gritted teeth, super clenchy, forced/scary smile. It's actually impossible to describe, you just have to see me do it, but sometimes when M's pumping gas and I do one I'll look up and he'll be staring in my window and he caught me and he says "WOW that was a big one!"

2. I talk in LOLcat, far more than is humanly necessary.. sometimes to myself. I'll get in the elevator at the end of the day and say "Ah haz a sweepy." out loud. I hope there are no cameras in there otherwise someone is laughing at my expense daily on a closed circuit TV somewhere

3. Speaking of elevators.. sometimes I just flail around in the elevator at work. I stomp, dance, or have angry conversations with people by myself that I wish I would've had to their face. Example, "oh yeah, you're in SUCH a fucking hurry aren't you.. HAD to zip up past me at the light! asshole." because sometimes thinking them in your head is just.not.enough.

4. My "noises".. I squeak, yelp, hum, make sing-songy noises...ALL.the.time... sometimes the cat isn't even around to blame for them.

5.  Sometimes when M is downstairs watching his shows and I'm upstairs, we'll send each other ridiculous photos. The best part is, there's no door to the basement so I can hear the giggles from downstairs when he's super proud of them, or when he gets mine and it's particularly frightening. (you know how some people still look "cute" when making funny faces? I am not one of them. They're actually just scary.) 

 (the bigger the eyes, the more frightening...yes?)

 Lets not forget the time I pulled my ponytail over my forehead, took the time to bobbypin it to my head so that it looked like I had bangs, used my phone to "style" my fake bangs, and then sent photos like this, to M and my friends:

 Charity silent auction for church? doesn't even matter. NEVER a bad time to put that lizard tongue on display.

 At M's old apartment, he left me to work for the day (back when I just had school)

annnddd I've saved the best for last. Sometimes I still send this photo to M randomly, to scare him. This was in response to some bizarre photo he sent me, but I think the half-face, crossed-eyes, toothless black hole mouth, combined with the scrunchy face REALLY make this one what it is:

 an absolute gem.

TGIT, people.

-Kelly

Update on my sanity

Well.. It's Monday and I survived the weekend with the 2 terrors. I went to watch my friend run the Minneapolis half marathon Sunday morning, stopped for a solo lunch at Noodles and wrote out my grocery list (they're across the parking lot from one another). Upon my return around noon, I decided to partake in an experiment. I let Lucky out of his room, only this time, after freaking out that they were trying to kill each other and not playing at all, I let them go at it. For HOURS. TJ took great pleasure in stalking Lucky, jumping on his back, and nipping his neck/ears. Joke is on TJ though because Lucky is twice his size and when Lucky ACTUALLY had enough, he'd let TJ know.

After about 5 or 6 hours of that, they seemed to reach an understanding. They could be in the same room without wanting to fight/play, and even co-existed peacefully on occasion! Behold, progress:

 TJ even calmed down enough to enjoy one of his favorite weekend activities: sitting in the nook of my arm while I use the computer, read, or in this case.. work on flashcards for barbri.

 He's so freaking adorable. I think Lucky was hiding downstairs. I think TJ forgot for a little while Lucky was even there.. or maybe he really is just relaxing to the idea.

such a sweetie..

 Mutually distracting activities, such as swinging at bugs through the screen of an open window, also serves as a good "babysitter" for these 2.

All in all, I think we're going to survive, guys.

I do sincerely hope that when I go home after work to feed them one hasn't killed the other one. That'd be bad.

-Kelly

My weekend (and then some) as a single mom

WARNING: cat lady content ahead.

Well... It's Saturday night. I just got back from Snow White and the Huntsman (SO good!) and am watching Friends before bed. M is in Canada.. he left Friday at 5:30 in the morning with my dad and brother, and they're all holed up in the woods with a bunch of other guys until Wednesday night. 

My mom has PCAs staying round the clock, but my dad worries about Lucky's care/I'm not sure as a part of their "job" that they'll take care of pets. At least one other time when my dad left town they wouldn't watch Lucky. SO guess who gets the honor of watching him while Dad's away? this girl. Ordinarily I would love this. Lucky was "my" cat long before TJ came along. He's big, fluffy, and SO docile. He's NOT a snuggler though (which is what I love about TJ). BUT naturally, being away from home stresses him out. He's a bit more skittish, vocal, and sad. Which breaks my heart because I love him and I tell him all the time (yes I'm nuts) that he's going home in a few days... because in my world he's thinking I've taken him away from my dad, and honestly thinking about that makes me want to cry/has me tearing up. Yes, again, I'm nuts. 

Anyway, Lucky is 7. TJ is 11 months old and CRAZY. You do the math. I brought Lucky home late last night... and ordinarily when introducing cats (who will live together permanently) there's this long drawn out process of letting them sniff each other's belongings, letting them interact under a closed door, etc. Yes, I know these things. Anyway, I don't have time for that shit. In my perfect world, the cats would frolick and lay together, and angels would sing. WRONG. I bring in Lucky's crap last night and put it in the guest room. I give TJ a heads up sniff before bringing in Lucky's carrier. I bring in Lucky's carrier and let TJ sniff him through the bars. They'd met once before... when we first got TJ we were watching Lucky. I opened the doors and BAM: Lucky bolts under the bed, TJ follows, and Lucky makes noises I have NEVER heard him make... growls, hisses,...scary. TJ's eyes bug out and he's meowing (quite distressed) not taking his eyes off Lucky. fuckkkkk. 

I start panicking thinking if either of them hurt the other I'll have an upset man in my life (either M or my dad) so I get them apart, put TJ in his room, put Lucky in the guest room, and both just start HOWLING. I had a long, dumb Friday...8 hours of work, was exhausted from tuesday-thursday 12 hour days, had 3.5 hours of BarBri after work, and now these 2. I walked into the living room and burst into tears. It was at least an hour of ugly crying while watching Say Yes to the Dress:Bridesmaids. I go to bed puffy eyed.. Lucky's in his room (and mad) and TJ is roaming the house (which mostly entails sitting outside Lucky's room and sticking his paws under the door. Such a shit.) 

4:45 a.m., I hear "BANG BANG BANG". My heart is in my throat, 9-1-1 is punched into my phone, and I'm slowly walking downstairs (something I swore I'd never do if I REALLY thought there was an intruder, but I was 80% sure there wasn't one). Nope, just Lucky, knocking over picture frames and rattling the door because my dad is CRAZY and feeds him at 5:30 in the morning and Lucky was throwing a tantrum because he was hungry. 

Anyway, this is what today looked like when I tried to let them be in the same room: 

 Here's a close up of the bottom 2 frames. It LOOKS like TJ has his arm around Lucky and is telling him a story. In REALITY TJ was mid-"go for the throat"-lunge.

and another standoff (seconds before TJ swung that paw at Lucky's head)

Meanwhile, I'm trying to do this: 

(Make flash cards for the bar exam)

 Annnddd another attack by the back door. 

I finally put TJ away for a while and let Lucky roam around. Poor guy was exhausted from being assaulted by the 8-lb terror. 

SO, this is the next 5 days of my life. I have had a perpetual headache. My problem is I care too damn much. I've been rotating them in and out of their rooms, to give each a chance to roam the entire house, which means the one in their room at any given time hates me, and is howling. (although usually only about 10 minutes and then if I'm quiet enough they think I've left and they shut up). TJ is worse than Lucky. Although right now, TJ is in his room and he's whining, and Lucky's out in the open and HE won't.stop.grunting.

Having 2 strung out cats and having to play cat-roulette is stressing me the fuck out. I feel like I'm just upsetting both of them at all times..and that every time I let TJ out of his room and he smells Lucky all over, or put TJ away, that I'm "betraying him" because this is HIS house. omg, I KNOW how nuts I sound, but the whole thing is going to give me an ulcer. Not to mention, I like both of these cats independently because they're QUIET. I don't do well with vocal cats (aka cats that just meow ALL the time, for no reason)... TJ usually trills or purrs but it's sporadic and not annoying. Lucky never meows unless he's hungry. Neither one of them have shut up for the last 24 hours.

Pray for me, people. This is hyper dramatic of me, I realize.... but OMG these 2 are driving me crazy.

-Kelly

Friday's Letters

Linking up with Ashley at adventures of a newlywed, otherwise lord knows I won't be blogging. ugh.

Dear Friday, I wish you'd feel more like a Friday, but I'm already dreading 3.5 hours of Constitutional Law bar review lecture tonight (yes people, this is my life right now)

Dear BarBri (my Bar Review course), die. That's it.

Dear Baby TJ, I'm picking up your cousin Lucky tonight (my parents' cat), PLEASE play nice. mkay?

Dear 50 Shades Freed, I'm a-commin to buy you! Andddd I will read you by Monday.

Dear M, Have fun in Canada! Don't fall into the lake! Make sure my dad and brother don't fall in the lake! On second thought pleasedon'tgoi'llbeSOBORED. Just kidding. Haz fun!

Dear Bossman, maybe it's because you got the pins out of your finger (hey, like the lion with the thorn in his paw!) but you've been much cheerier lately. Keep it up.