Wednesday, March 31, 2021

A Shot in the Arm to Ward Off All Harm: Vaccination Jubilation



This past Sunday, the husband and I got shot up full of Pfizer while Gloria Estefan's "Conga" played in the background.  Or, as the husband likes to put it, we got our "Fauci ouchies."  Because I'm not the only one in this duo who uses humor to combat tribulation.

When I first heard about the vaccine rollout in January, I thought, good, finally.  But also, somewhat perversely, that was fast.  Because I felt a little uneasy.  What if this miracle drug made me sprout a third eye or something?  It turned out that the husband felt the same, so we decided to wait to get it.  I rationalized this decision by reminding myself that only people older than sixty-five were supposed to be getting it at this point anyway.  But then, these last couple of weeks, I suddenly felt like we should get it as soon as possible.  Maybe it was the reports of the new, more serious strains.  Or even just the fear that they'd run out of vaccines.  Probably it was both.  But mostly it was my gut telling me that the husband's luck couldn't hold up forever.      

As you know, I've been working from home since last March and have ventured out of the house only a handful of times to visit my parents, plus once to the office to fix my computer.  The husband, on the other hand, has been working out in the world every day.  He's a painter, which means that he's in and out of people's homes.  This drove me crazy, especially when the pandemic first started.  I tried to convince him to go on hiatus, but he was concerned that his business would dry up and never recover.  Then a few months in, I was like, he's being careful, it's fine, we haven't caught it yet.  Because I couldn't be angry and scared all the time and had to make some sort of peace with it.

So, a couple of weekends ago when I announced that I was starting to look into vaccination scheduling, he was surprised -- but not really.  Deep down, we both knew that he was the one warier of the actual vaccine, whereas I was the one warier of rejoining civilization.  Getting vaccinated would bring me one step closer to saying see ya to the recluse life to which I'd grown so accustomed, and that made me anxious.  Still, my fear of contracting the coronavirus was bigger, and I wanted that shot.  The husband knew that.  So he agreed to get vaccinated, for me.  I thought that was very heroic and romantic and, at the end of the day, just plain kind.    

At first, I was overwhelmed by the scheduling logistics.  I didn't even know if we'd get appointments, and on the first try, we didn't.  By the second time I'd learned more about the ins and outs of the system and was able to secure us back-to-back slots for the following Sunday, bright and early, at the Atlantic City Convention Center.  I felt like I'd won the lottery, or at the very least, Air Supply tickets.  When Sunday rolled around, I was so glad that the husband and I were climbing into my Honda together.  We always go to the dentist, dermatologist, and optometrist as a pair.  Why should the vaccination of the century be any different?

I'm happy to report that the whole process ran like a well-oiled machine.  (My car, not so much.  After barely being driven for a year, it now sounds kind of clunky.  But, as Chandler Bing would say, one ridiculous problem at a time.)  The Atlantic City mega site is run by the National Guard, and they, along with the nurses, were so efficient and upbeat, which helped to make it all seem more normal.  As did the selfie station on the way out.  Its bright colors and snappy sayings really brought the carnival flair, befitting a vaccination site located in a city once known as America's Playground.

So, yeah.  One down, one to go.

My only regret is that I didn't wear a snazzier mask.

Also, that I never got to see Air Supply.

Monday, March 29, 2021

Horse With No Shame: How the West Was Fun

Top: Chaps, Kohl's

Camisole: Macy's

Boots: 2 Lips Too, Zulily

Cardigan thingy: Kohl's

Bag: Betsey Johnson, Marshalls

Scarf: Mossimo, Target

Remember those Stetson cologne commercials from the '90s?  The ones with the glamorous cowboy and cowgirl setting off on a horse for a night of romance?  (By the way, get ready for romance -- the word, not the thing -- because I'm going to use it a lot.)  I always found them intriguing, even if I never smelled the dubious drugstore scent they were hawking and knew better than to romanticize people who smell, not like adventure, but horse hide.  Maybe it's because I'm so firmly East Coast and am attracted to anything different.  Kind of like when Maine-bred interim Dunder Mifflin branch manager Deangelo Vickers (Will Ferrell) declared his love for paintings of the Southwest.  

That said, I think my love of western wear, both its bold serape stripes (I see you, Chaps sweatshirt) and blushing prairie florals (right on, Willa Cather-esque cardi), is rooted in delusion, er, idealism, much like Deangelo Vickers's.  It's a way for me to experience the wild west's romance without having to endure its hardscrabble reality. 

Because if there's anything I hate, then it's stuff described as hardscrabble.  

See above thing about smelly horses.

Saturday, March 27, 2021

Faux Fur for Sure: Freshness Guaranteed

Bag: Zulily

Belt: Marshalls

Dress: Betsey Johnson, Zulily

Flower clips: Capelli, ULTA; First necklace: Carole, JCPenney

Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily

Jeans: Bongo, Sears

Bag: Amazon

Purple, pink, and unicorn bangles: Don't Ask, Zulily; Striped bangle: Mixit, JCPenney; Mint bangle: Decree, JCPenney

Boots: Dolls Kill

Wrap: Zulily

Skirt: Delia's, Dolls Kill

Earmuffs: Trolls by Betsey Johnson for Macy's; Shoes: City Streets, JCPenney; Bracelets: B Fabulous

Wrap: Macy's

On the first day of spring, I leapfrogged into summer with the warning that I might post about a parka in April.  Well, it's still March and I've already regressed to winter with that glam glacier go-to, faux fur.  Which isn't the same as a parka.  But then again, a faux fur is just a parka that's got a hot date. 

That said, there's not a patch of fur, fake or otherwise, in the first outfit.  Which makes it scrappily springy, like the first daffodil fighting the snow.  Or, you know, an 80s pop princess hitting Hawaii.

So here's to wearing whatever, no matter the weather.  

And also to fresh pineapple.  Today I had two dented cans delivered.  Never one to bet on botulism, I tossed them.  

Hawaii, how I wish you were here.  

Tuesday, March 23, 2021

Colorful Clover, Red Rover Tote Trover

Top: Mudd, Kohl's; Skirt: Rewind, Kohl's; Shoes: Guess, DSW; Bag: Nordstrom; Belt: Marshalls; Yellow and lime bangles: B Fabulous; Orange and wavy pink bangles: Mixit, JCPenney; Pink segmented bangle: Amrita Singh, Zulily


Fluorescent Four-Leaf Clover Necklace

Red Rover and clover.  So many puns, so little rhyme.  What's a blogger to do?  Oh yeah, that's right, make a list:    

Red Rover
Classic '60s tune "Crimson and Clover"
The Mars Rover
Mars the Red Planet

Red Rover

I always liked the rhetoric of the schoolyard game Red Rover.  Because, colors.  But the game in practice?  Not so much.  Running around with a bunch of Capri Sun-buzzed crazies and risking grass stains on my stretch pants was never a good time.  

You know what was and still is a good time?  Stickers!  You may have noticed the rainbow, star, and Yeah! graphics slapped on this post's outfit pic.  (For some reason, "Yeah!" was the only word available, so I obeyed the laws of improv and went for it.)  They're my (and your) PC's version of stickers, and I was excited when I found them.  I use stickers in real life; why not use them in fake life too?

It's the little things.

Classic '60s tune "Crimson and Clover," The Mars Rover, and Mars the Red Planet

"Crimson and Clover" is about the past and peace and love.  Whereas the Mars Rover and, indeed, Mars the Red Planet, are about the future and the unknown and possibly death and destruction, either ours or the Martians'. 

So, also some not so little things.

All together now!

Whether you paint the planet red, preach peace and rainbows, or sport any other color combo, at The Tote Trove, you can always come over. 

Unless you're wearing head-to-toe-denim. 

Saturday, March 20, 2021

Katy, Lou, and Limeade Too

Today is the first day of spring, which means that summer can't be far behind.  So, I'm fast-forwarding to flip flops and pool-worthy drinks (at least for this post.  I can't be held responsible if a parka rears its hood in April).  And this is what I think would happen if someone made a commercial about two of my favorite fun-in-the-sun brands.

Simply Limeade/Katy Perry Collection Collaboration brainstorming session:

Writer (reading draft): What could be better on a scorching hot day than sipping Simply Limeade in a brand-new pair of lime flip flops from the Katy Perry Collection?  Simply Limeade is tangy, sweet, and refreshing, like a surprise squirt from your crush at the carwash.  (A hose-wielding Lou Ferrigno emerges from behind a palm hedge.)  The flip flops smell like real limes, so with each broiling hot breeze, you'll get a whiff of fresh citrus, just the thing for masking those funky foot odors.  Talk about a silver -- excuse me -- lime lining!

Director: What happened to Katy Perry jumping out of the giant lime?

Assistant Director: We don't have the budget for Katy; we're spending too much on the cartoon dramatization of the funky foot odor and Ferrigno.  By the way, he said yes to the green body paint but no to the shorts.  He says they make him look like a pirate and wants to wear khakis instead.

Director: He'll wear the shorts and he'll like it!  And how do we not have the budget for Katy?  We're promoting her shoes!  

Assistant Director: Yes, but there's a clause in her contract . . .

Director:  Skip it.  Since we've already got Ferrigno, why don't we do a mock promo for an Avengers movie?  We'll call it Green Planet Peril.  The green planet can look like a lime and be inhabited by an army of miniature Hulks.  Thor and Iron Man have to return them to their original size.  Only it backfires when the Hulks get too big for their planet, causing it to explode, sending Simply Limeade all over the galaxy.  

Writer blinks and takes a swig of her limeade.

Assistant Director: I don't think Katy would like that.

Director: She would if we ask her to do the music.  You know, a fun, summer blockbuster version of "E.T." -- minus the Kanye.  (Notices Pizza Guy for the first time.)  Does this pizza have gluten-free crust?  Because I specifically specified gluten-free crust.  Gluten aggravates my acne.

Writer smirks, then catches herself and drinks more limeade.

Pizza Guy: Uh . . .  

Assistant Director: Dude, if we can't afford to star Katy Perry, then we can't afford her music.  Or the Avengers.

Director: First, do not call me dude.  Second, we wouldn't get Hemsworth and Downey Jr.  We'd get guys with dad bods and put them in Thor and Iron Man costumes from Target.  We'd run a disclaimer that says: "No Avengers participated in the making of this commercial.  Marvel maintains that Lou Feriggno is not and never was an Avenger."  It'd be true, but also ironic.  

Assistant Director: No, too messy.  We should chuck the Avengers idea but stick with Ferrigno.  Maybe we can even get Paul Rudd and Jason Segal to reenact that scene in I Love You Man where they beat him up.

Writer frowns.  The I Love You Man thing had been her idea, and Assistant Director told her to cut it.  But instead of saying so, she downs more limeade.

Pizza Guy: Epic!  I know those guys; I think they'd do it for free.

Director: Make it happen.  And get me an espresso.

Pizza Guy:  Sure thing, man.  But I don't work here . . .

Director: Make.  It.  Happen.  (Pizza Guy lopes off, gnawing on a slice and muttering, "Yummy yummy yummy, I've got wheat in my tummy."  Oblivious, Director turns to Assistant Director.)  If you're not careful, that kid's going to get your job.  Now, if we let Ferrigno wear the khakis, maybe he'll jump out of the lime . . .  

And  . . . scene.  Cheers to cooling off on a hot day with limeade, Katy kicks, and The Hulk.  And yes, my pic features the Marvel version of the not-so-jolly green giant instead of Ferrigno.  But that's because he's more photogenic.  

Khakis or not, Lou, it's true.

Wednesday, March 17, 2021

Sleeping Through St. Patrick's Day

Belt: Marshalls

Top: Fifth Sun, Target

Boots: Betsey Johnson, Zulily

Skirt: Modcloth

Skirt: Rewind, Kohl's

Sweater: Paper Heart, TJ Maxx

Shoes: Katy Perry Collections

Skirt: XOXO, Macy's

Top: Kohl's

Shoes: Nine West, Amazon

Green bracelet: Parade of Shoes; Yellow ring: Making Waves, Ocean City; Yellow bangle: Silver Linings, Ocean City; Blue bangle: So, Kohl's; Red bangle: B Fabulous; Sunglasses: Zulily; Rainbow ring: Wet Seal

St. Patrick's Day is a lot like The Wizard of Oz.  There's the Emerald City, a rainbow, and munchkins that might as well be leprechauns.  Even the Wicked Witch of the West is green.  Oh, and then there's the matter of those decidedly March-like winds (you say tornado, I say [Irish] potato) picking up Dorothy's house and taking it up, up, and away into Oz -- or what we eventually discover to be dreamland.  Because dear Dorothy is sleeping, much as I appear to be in two out of three of these pics.  

Compact: Zulily

Blame it on the time change, the still-arctic air, or my lifelong challenge to keep my eyes open for flash photography, but being bright-eyed and bushy-tailed just wasn't in the cards for this post.  It's all kind of artsy, though, right?  Refusing to train my face for the camera, remaining immersed in my clover-clogged thoughts of shillelaghs and fresh hot cross buns.  Sure, we'll go with that.   

Just wake me up in time for Easter. 

Monday, March 15, 2021

Sweat Suit Tribute: R&R: Reading and Relaxation

Sweat suit: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's; Blanket: So, Kohl's


Sweatshirt: Macy's

Sweat suit: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's; Socks: GAP; Hair tie: Wild Fable, Target

Recently, I revealed how the quarantine has brought me closer to sweat suits.  And I'm as surprised as you are that it's taken me so long to join this particular pajama party -- and, ironically, to discover that there's more to lounge life than pajamas.  Because of all the stars in the sartorial spectrum, sweats are a special breed.  What other attire simultaneously says going for a run and sleeping 'til Tuesday?  

To that end, R&R usually means rest and relaxation (no, not rest and running, although that would fit nicely with what I just said, wouldn't it?).  But in this post, it means rest and reading.  And whether you're snuggling up to slumber or to a story, you want to be as comfy as possible.  

So here I am, not doing laps, but also not sweating the small stuff.  While wearing my brand-new sweats (try saying that five times fast) and reading two delightful but very different books: Laura Levine's Death of a Gigolo and Grown Ups by Marian Keyes.  If you've read Laura Levine, Marian Keyes, and/or this blog, then you know the drill.  Gigolo is a not-quite ribald romp of a murder mystery chockful of intrigue, hijinks, and, most horrific of all, part-time-private-eye-slash-ice-cream-addict Jaine Austen's (yes, you read that right) attempt to go vegan in the name of true love.  As always, it's cozy, crazy, and reminiscent of sitcoms, which makes sense because Ms. Levine used to write for TV.  Grown Ups, on the other hand, is a chick lit dramedy full of family skeletons, skirmishes, and a good old-fashioned dose of facing up to things.  Although nobody kicks the bucket (except for during a low-rent murder mystery weekend), it's grimmer than Death of a Gigolo.  Sometimes I think that Marian Keyes is the dark side of Sophie Kinsella.  Which is to say that her novels have wit and warmth and glamour -- but also demons.  Gigolo and Grown Ups are both great reads; Gigolo gets high marks for escapist fun, whereas Grown Ups offers a glimpse into the lives of people you probably know. 

Still, when even the land -- no, neighborhood -- of make believe (rock on, Mr. Rogers!) becomes too taxing, there are few things more decadent than grabbing a bookmark, thanking the universe for your sweats -- or for whatever makes you grateful -- and succumbing to sleep.            

Saturday, March 13, 2021

Tulips Times Two, Old Better Than New: Zigzag Brag Reigns Until Next Rhyme

Sweater: Hearts & Roses London, Zulily; Top: Almost Famous, Macy's; Skirt: Mudd, Kohl's Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily; Bag: Nine West, Marshalls

Sweater: Merona, Target; Skirt: Amazon; Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily; Bag: Amerileather (even though it's wooden!), Zulily; Belt: Wet Seal

Forget tiptoeing through the tulips.  Why not blow through them with the swagger of an Olympic sprinter going for gold?  

I say this to show how excited I was about making this Polka Dot Tulips Barrette Brooch.  I thought, I'm not going to make those stylized, zigzag-topped tulips like always.  I'm going to make these tulips realistic, with overlapping, rounded petals.  So I did, adding the pizzazz of polka dots on the leaves and in the bright yellow background.  Then I put my new creation next to a zigzag tulip barrette that I'd made ages ago and realized, oh, there's a reason why everyone makes tulips the zigzag way -- they look better!  So dramatic and graphic and pointy, like a brand-new blade of grass shooting up after winter.     

Polka Dot Tulips Barrette Brooch, Fabulous Felt Tulips Barrette

Still, I wasn't too disappointed.  One of the reasons I work with felt is that if something goes wrong, then I can't take it as seriously as I would if I were working with something like marble (not that I harbor any illusions about my prowess with a hammer or chisel).  Not all brainstorms pan out the way we want, but that just means that we're closer to getting it right the next time.  For example, now I want to try a combo of zigzag tulips and polka dots.  And that may be the best design yet!  Until then, I appreciate my wonky tulips in all of their imperfect glory.      

No shame in that game -- or in sometimes bagging bronze.

Thursday, March 11, 2021

Crave the Rave: Curating Cranberries

Top: Vylette, Kohl's

Three Cheers for Cherries Necklace; You Glow, Girl! Necklace

Bag: Boscov's

Jumper: Current Mood, Dolls Kill

Boots: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Bracelets from top to bottom: Amrita Singh, Zulily; B Fabulous; Mixit, JCPenney; Steve Madden, Macy's

Jumper: Candie's, Kohl's

Top: Current Mood, Dolls Kill

Belt: Dolls Kill; Bag: Circus by Sam Edelman, Kohl's; Shoes: Betseyville, Macy's

Bracelets: Kohl's

Daisy Star Unicorn Necklace

Skirt: Dolls Kill

Bag: Amazon

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Top: Macy's Backstage

When the husband took these pics, he said that the thick-treaded boots and loafers looked very monster truck Barbie.  And although he was talking about the shoes, I couldn't help but think that it was a sentiment that also applied to the outfits.  Because each ensemble includes at least one thing from Dolls Kill -- in other words, hints of Bratz, Monster High, and other similarly sinister playthings -- just like a tasty but not-quite-top-shelf vintage.  There are also notes of plaid, stars, and sushi.  And plaid, of course, means the '90s and the lumberjack-meets-prep sweet/tart 'tude that goes with them.  So, we're not just talking cranberry wine, but also -- yes -- The Cranberries.  That said, let's raise a glass -- wine or Ocean Spray, you decide -- to dressing up as versions of who we once were with a spit spritz of somebody else.  In my case, an aging, rave-raging schoolgirl.

Even if I've never ever been to a rave and am terrified of zombies.  

Except for the song "Zombie"  That I love.  It's an anthem that transcends time and produce.  

Especially when Andy sings it on The Office.