Resort Report: Message in a Throttle

There's this realtor (I refuse to use Realtor) who sends the husband and me promotional postcards all the time.  We always laugh when we get them.  Why isn't important -- mostly because it may expose us as terrible people -- but also because it has nothing to do with fruit, summer fun, or this story.  Anyway, we got one today, and I was especially happy because the vibrant sailboat image was perfect for the flat lay I was building around my new Tropical Fruit Barrette Brooch.

Tropical Fruit Barrette Brooch

Picture it.  The sun on your face, the wind -- and this super-strong-not-going-anywhere-even-in-a-gust barrette -- in your hair, a cooler full of fruit (and sandwiches, because sailing makes you hungry and sometimes bananas don't cut it) chilling starboard while "Brandy" (from Looking Glass, not Norwood) blares in the background.  What could be better?

Because a new house is like a vacation is like a new hairpiece.  And I don't mean toupee

Looks like Prince Postcard isn't the only marketing maven.

Party of One, Party of Fun: One Isn't the Loneliest Number

"You need to get out more."

We've all heard it, whether in fiction or in IRL.  Sometimes it's tossed off in an all-in-good-fun spirit ("What, you've never been to the Cheesecake Factory?!  You need to get out more!").  Other times it's snarkier ("How do you not know who Jim Parsons is?  You need to get out more."  Insert eyeroll;  bonus points if it's lazy.).  But there's no mistaking that it's never a term of endearment.  That's because the speaker (we'll call him "the extrovert") deems himself worldlier and worthier than the speakee (that would be "the introvert") and therefore justified in dispensing his glib, disingenuously cruel-to-be-kind advice.  But I've always been of the opinion that it's not getting out more that grows a more knowledgeable, interesting, and ultimately more empathetic human.  It's staying in.     

So you can imagine my delight upon finding Hallie Heald's 41 Reasons I'm Staying In: A Celebration of Introverts.  If ever there was a book that countered the aforementioned life-of-the-party propaganda -- or, indeed, that was designed for the new normal shelter-in-place lifestyle of the COVID pandemic -- then it's this one.  Dedicated to "all the introverts I've met and may never meet," Heald's strange and fanciful picture book challenges the inherent shame of the home-alone-on-a-Saturday-night stereotype, elevating solitude to an art form.  Her forty-one for-one activities range from the hilariously selfless "midwifing for my gerbil" to the self-indulgently creative "designing my Halloween costume" to the downright dark "making voodoo dolls of my exes."  Each pursuit illustrates (both literally and figuratively; the pictures are a hoot) that it doesn't matter what you do in hermit mode as long as it makes you feel like you, a commodity that's all too elusive when in a crowded club or conference room. All of us feel like this some of the time, and some of us feel like this all of the time.  And I for one am a homebody who firmly falls into camp number two.  

And that's why it's so great that 41 Reasons I'm Staying In applauds those of us who prefer our own company.  Because sometimes being alone isn't about being on the outside looking in.  Sometimes it's about being on the inside looking out.  Not in envy, but in the kind of comfort that can only come from being where you know you belong.

You know.  In your favorite chair knitting a tracksuit, singing to a sourdough starter, or curating a cicada circus while The Big Bang Theory hums in the background.  

Game, set, and match, lazy eye.

Filtered Pop and Photo Op: I Like Cold Beverages

Tee: Macy's

Sandals: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Skirt: Modcloth

Scrunchie: Macy's; Cream bangle: Mixit, JCPenney; Bag: Circus by Sam Edelman, Kohl's; Midnight Magic Necklace, Sunglasses: Betsey Johnson, Zulily; Love bangle: Boscov's

Skirt: Mossimo, Target

Flip flops: Sea Star, Brigantine

Bag: Circus by Sam Edelman: Kohl's

Tee: Kohl's

Jeans: City Streets, JCPenney

Tee: Kohl's; Sunglasses: Amazon; Shoes: Katy Perry Collection; May Berry Charm Necklace; Bag: Betsey Johnson, Modcloth 

When I was a kid, I thought that soft drinks got their name because the bubbles made them feel soft and airy as they made their way down your throat (so, the opposite of one of those half-chewed, pointy Doritos).  It was years before I realized that "soft" was a negative space term created to counter hard drinks like rum and tequila.  And that disappointed me, because it implied that soft didn't mean dreamy and delicious but weak, denoting the consolation prize for people who couldn't have or didn't want a "real" drink.  

So it's no wonder that I'd advertise my lifelong love of Coke products and Icees by parading these pop culture tees.  Not only are they cute and colorful, but they bring me back to the days when the most decadent drink I could down was one that was carbonated.  If this post had a theme song, then it'd be G. Love & Special Sauce's "Cold Beverages," that iconic '90s toe-tapper that pays equal tribute to martinis and root beer. 

I even wore my blink-and-you'll-miss-it Fanta tee to the beach -- and then ordered an orange Fanta!  

 

By the way, this was my first -- and so far only -- restaurant visit (albeit al fresco, not, ha ha, a Fresca) since before the pandemic.  Sometimes it's fun to leave my bubble.  Or to exchange one kind of bubble for another.  Or to bubble over with enthusiasm for, yes, bubbles.

Okay, I'll stop.

Suffice it to say that I look forward to my next outdoor soda.  As do the tropical creatures hanging out by my head.  

I wouldn't blame you one bit if you thought there was vodka in my cup after all. 

Christmas in July, Insects Buzzing High: Bye-Bye to Bees and Bah Humbugs

For years, I've been wanting to do a Christmas in July post.  I guess all those commercials about  unseasonable Hallmark movie marathons and mattress sales got to me.  My hook?  Hanging some new necklaces from my, not Christmas, but still at-least-semantically-winter-themed snowball tree.  And today, on the very last day of the month, I thought, hey, no time like the present.  So I hauled my little stepstool, phone, and four necklaces out to the yard.  And discovered that my beautiful tree, which always looks so pristine from my kitchen window, was positively swarming with winged things, some of which were -- gulp -- bees.  Now, I'm all for suffering for my art, but even I have my limits.  In my thirty-nine years, I've never been stung by a bee, and I wasn't about to tempt fate today.  So I hightailed it back into the house and photographed my necklaces the way Santa intended, on nice, safe poster board sprinkled with mini pine trees. 

Tops, clockwise: Bongo, Sears; Self Esteem, JCPenney (two solids); ELLE, Kohl's

The necklaces themselves are not the least bit Christmassy.  But the Night Flight Necklace honors the insect theme with its twin dragonflies.  That's how I like my creepy crawlers, after all, inanimate and dripping with rhinestones.  

Night Flight Necklace

Trips Ahoy Necklace

Betty Confetti Necklace

Star Bright, Star Stripe Necklace

Stay tuned for when Christmas really rolls around and I dig out my pre-lit palm tree for a beach day in December.  

Pining for Pinterest: Love at First (Web) Site

Fabulous Felt Custard Barrettes

If I Dreamed a Desert Barrette Brooch

I don't know about you, but I'm Pinterest obsessed.  Which you either already know because I've said so before or because you've visited my hoarder's haven of a corner on this popular social media platform.  So why am I so infatuated?  Because Pinterest is like your own personal cyber scavenger hunt, i.e., all the excitement without having to beat out anyone else to find that purple kazoo under the couch.  If squirreling away Pinterest pics is the retail-free answer to our hunter-gatherer instincts, then creating a Pinterest board is like being in a new relationship.  Everything's fun and easy, and you can't get enough.  You save images with all the abandon of a fool in love, on pins and needles for the next fab find to add to your burgeoning collection.  Each acquisition for Beachy Bathing Caps or Dramatic Doors (two totally real boards of mine) gives you the same rush as the ding of a text from your new one-and-only, the addition of every obscure vintage knickknack or garment as intoxicating as the first time your fingers brush his.  

But inevitably, time goes on and your board gets fuller.  Continuing to build it can become more tedious than exhilarating.   Even worse, you notice that some of the pins don't complement each other as well as they used to and that there are even -- gasp -- some duplicates.  So you edit and rearrange to make everything work, deleting the doppelgangers and looking for new stuff that brings you the same joy and satisfaction but in a slightly different way.  You know.  Kind of like when you and your better half bust out of your dinner-and-a-movie-date-night go-to to go bungee jumping.  Or maybe just to an Asian fusion restaurant and an indie film instead of a steakhouse and action flick.  But when you get home, you discover that there was a method to the madness of the repetition, that you kept choosing the same things -- and the same person -- over and over because those are the things that you love.  And sometimes realizing that is when the real commitment -- to a board or to a beau -- begins.  

So in the name of making old favorites feel like new, here are two new old pics to add to my ever-expanding Pinterest arsenal.  The custard cones from a long-ago summer will go on my Extra Accessories board, whereas the oft-posted cacti will find a home on Awesome Arts & Crafts.

If you're wondering just how many Pinterest boards I have, it's a little over two hundred.

What can I say?  I've got a big heart. 

Vacation, All I Ever Hunted: Friends Without Benefits

When I first read about Emily Henry's People We Meet on Vacation on Ivy's Closet, I knew it was my kind of novel.  Ivy's Closet, by the way, is a fun and creative blog featuring original fiction, book and movie reviews, music playlists, and more.  If you enjoy pop culture and engaging writing (and who doesn't?), then I highly recommend it, along with its sister blogs Ellie and Caitlin & Megan.  So, People We Meet on Vacation.  I was instantly into it because it's about the kind of romance that everyone wants: the kind that begins as friendship.  Alex and Poppy have enough inside jokes to fill a book, accept each other's flaws (an acceptance, that is, accompanied by good-natured ribbing), and are protective of each other.  After meeting at the University of Chicago, they go on a summer vacation every year.  Henry describes these trips as flashbacks, letting us get to know Alex and Poppy slowly and through the bittersweet lens of nostalgia.  And although their living situations, jobs, and romantic statuses change, they keep at it for a decade.

Poppy is a free spirit who showers three times a week and lives in vintage jumpsuits whereas Alex is a planner who runs at dawn and prefers brand-new button-downs.  Maybe that's why they stay in the friend zone.  Yet although much is made of their Odd Couple ways, they're at their most comfortable -- and happiest -- together.  Which tracks, because they have three key things in common: 1) They're both writers, 2) They both have a stellar sense of humor (so much more important than on-the-same-page hygiene), and 3) They both come from the same small town in Ohio.  Interestingly, it's the town of their origin stories that keeps them from becoming even closer.  Haunted by being taunted in high school, Poppy dropped out of college and fled to New York City, eager to begin her globe-trotting life as a travel writer.  But Alex put down roots, building a career as an English teacher-slash-short story writer to be near his dad, who's still grieving the death of his mom.  And that works.  Because Alex and Poppy have their summer vacations, or as Poppy puts it, their "world for two."  

But sooner or later, vacations must end, even for Alex and Poppy.  As they enter their thirties, they can no longer pretend that they don't have to decide what to do with their lives -- and each other.  Can they move on from the carefree, no-strings-attached vibe of the Go-Go's "Vacation" to the let's-be-each-other's-north-star romance of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros' "Home"?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  But one thing's for sure.  Sometimes, the people we meet on vacation aren't strangers, but the best versions of ourselves.

Then again, sometimes they are strangers.  But that's a different kind of book for a different kind of blog. 

P.S. Don't talk to strangers.

Stripe Hype: For Those Times When You Don't Want to Polka

Bag: Lily Bloom, JCPenney

Dress: Lula Roe

Bag: Sugar Thrillz, Dolls Kill

Skirt: Modcloth

Bag: Olivia Miller, Amazon

Shoes: Betsey Johnson, Macy's

Dress: Rock & Republic, Kohl's

Polka dot, that is.  Because even wearing such a slaphappy print, let alone doing its namesake dance, demands a nimble spirit.  Not so with stripes.  They bring to mind, not rollicking reels, but maps crisscrossed with equators and prime meridians as indelibly as gym class Fs on a report card.  Because globes, round though they may be, don't deign to serve volleyballs or don sweat-stained uniforms.  No, they sit still in the study, and when you're with them, you must sit still too.  Call it revenge of the nerds.  And not the slick kind in Silicon Valley, but those who putter in academia or even just eat macadamia nuts while writing Wikipedia entries.   

I think we can all agree that none of this makes any sense.  Especially because my black Betsey wedges are, however subtly, polka dotted.  But posts don't always have to dot their i's or drink their t's.  

They just have to have a good time and a cold Coca-Cola.

But more on that (maybe) next time.