Where'd My Specs Go

Well well well! It seems I'm not wearing my glasses in these photos. Also notice my greasy, swept-aside bangs.

This dress is something I got a billion years ago (Christmas Eve-ish) at H&M, but never wore until today. I was waiting to buy a slip to go with it, but never did get a slip, so I just wore a slip that went with another dress of mine instead, even though it's an awkward slip that's a bit too small. Anyway I wore this dress, and I like the way it kind of swings around all nicely and A-line when I belt it, but it's a bit unflattering when not belted. Hmm. I love the color though, and it's super soft! I just feel like it's not quite as flattering as I'd thought when I tried it on originally.














I'm wearing: H&M dress and necklace, Target tights and flats, thrifted belt.

I feel kinda like a pumpkin in this dress, though. Like I ought to be wearing it in October, not mid January. It's like come on, Meg, that dress is so three months ago! Although if I got a proper rope belt for it, I'd feel like a Medieval peasant or something. I always think of Medieval "fashion" when I see long-sleeved dresses. Kinda like this:





Only I have a vision of myself wearing this kinda gold embroidered belt, leather pointy shoes, a weird skullcap, and then a green velvet cloak. I'd wander around the woods outside respectable villages, preying on the lithe young men whose strength I would then exploit by forcing them to build a hut for me amongst the trees. I would then share my dinner with them and we would discuss how to win the favor of the king through coercion, lies, and manipulation, and the occasional use of my mage powers. After all this came to fruition according to my plans, I'd then ensure that all blame was placed on my strapping young minions when the king was later seduced and murdered. I would then take my place as rightful queen, as I'd been an outcast illegitimate child of the king's, and he had not yet named an heir. His only daughter, age 11, would soon perish in the night on account of a mysterious sickness.

wut up

I don't have anything of use to say today, as I'm nursing a very mild hangover and convincing myself to be productive (yeah right), still in my pajamas. So instead of a real post, have an awkward photo of myself and Greg on New Year's Eve.




Every single picture turned out like this: Greg being all super cute, and me looking like a tool. Accurate life representation??

Guest Post at Simply Sunstar!

Git yo asses over to Heather's blog, where I wrote a guest post! Apparently Heather also has this same dress! ~MAGIC!~

GO READ NOW

Boringsauce

Not much to say today except that this is actually what I wore yesterday, but never got 'round to taking photos of it. So had to put it on again today, as no outfit must go undocumented!









I'm wearing: H&M skirt, UO cardigan, earrings and necklace from Mom.

I felt kinda like a badass grandpa in this outfit with my baggy cardigan and magnifying glass necklace (which I like to pretend is actually a monocle). I need a pipe and a mustache, clearly.

Seriously though... am I the only one who really wants to see Season of the Witch? It looks so bad but I want to be mind-numbingly entertained with occasional Robert Sheehan eyecandy.

So boringsauce today.

why don't you be the writer

Remember in the last post how I was all excited to start looking into postgraduate studies in England? Well apparently I don't do things I'm excited about by halves. I spent about 7 hours today (while waiting for calls to come through at work) researching schools in England, especially London, and trying to figure out just how the hell their graduate programs work and how the hell I'm expected to work it all out on my own. I sent out a few "enquiries" (hahahahaha omg British-isms), so hopefully they'll get back to me and shed some light upon the UK graduate educational system.

I did manage to work myself into a frenzied ball of anxiety and stress in the meantime, though. By the afternoon I had a blazing headache, I'd drunk two cups of tea and two diet Cokes, and I couldn't stop fidgeting. I think I was talking on the phone way too fast.

So yeah, I am really good at making myself physically ill when stressed!! Greg calmed me down when I came home, though. He is the best.











I'm wearing: F21 dress, Aldo shoes, UO cardigan, H&M necklace.

I'm listening to "The Writer" by Ellie Goulding on repeat. It reminds me of when I first drove out to Portland all by myself, last May. Greg was still in Missoula, and I was staying with friends, but I felt so lonely. Despite being scared and lonesome, I also felt incredibly alive -- there I was, jobless and homeless, in a brand new city starting a brand new life. It was the most terrifying, most exhilarating feeling.

Maybe that's why I've suddenly become so obsessed with the prospect of going to England for school. It's the adventure, the feeling of everything new and scary and different. I have a decided wanderlust, despite the fact that it's often hidden by my anxiety and fear of change. Maybe when I become a therapist I can make myself less anxiety-ridden. Or perhaps I'll have to see my own separate therapist for that.

So yeah, everyone go check out Ellie Goulding's music! I linked to a couple vids on my twitter if you're curious.

Testicle Festival

Disclaimer: this is what Greg wanted me to title the blog post. I take no responsibility.

So this is an outfit I put together in the H&M dressing room, and knew I had to wear it come Monday. That's how I work. So yes, I'm a little bit addicted to H&M. Just a little! Only a tad. Goodbye, all of my paychecks! Good thing I have a savings account for my Comic Con monies, or I'd never save up enough for it.

Also notice I'm wearing a cropped sweater again. A cardigan this time. Branching out! I also just got two new cardis in the mail from UO, so I'm totally set for cardis forever and ever! Until I buy a new one.









I'm wearing: H&M every-flipping-thing, Old Navy striped t-shirt, Target tights.

I think I'm going to look into attending grad school in England. I've been bit by the post-grad education bug, and I really want to be a therapist or counselor. Also one of my dreams has always been to live in England, and Greg says I should do it and not let him be a reason to stay here, so... I'm gonna look into it. I'm scared shitless! But I'm also really excited that I'm allowing myself to look into it. Augh, do you guys have any advice? What do I do?!

Anyway I'm supposed to hurry up because Greg and I need to start season 5 of Dexter, so that's taking precedence now.

My Life Story

I kind of want to quit life, join a monastery, and write forever. Never mind that monasteries are religious places of prayer. In my fantasy monastery there would be secular writing. And lots of cheese and wine. And harpists to play for me while I wrote, and personal masseurs named Lars. So basically your typical monastery. I'd just get up, inhale deeply of the cool mountain air, and write the next bestselling teen fantasy novel.

Then, when I was finished, I'd strap my manuscript to the back of a mule and begin the treacherous descent to a Hungarian village below, my cloak pulled tight about my shoulders, feet deft and sure on the uneven path. Upon reaching my destination, the village inn, I would read over my manuscript and edit for the hundredth time. In one hand would rest a mug of hot wine, my only movement the occasional turning of a page or sip of drink, my only sound the rustle of parchment and scratch of quill.












I'm wearing: Papaya dress, F21 cardigan, ModCloth shoes, Target tights.

My manuscript would be an astonishing hybrid of adventure, romance, intrigue, fantasy, and perfection. Publishers would line up at my door, offering outrageous sums for the opportunity... nay, the honor, to publish my work. "Guys, guys, calm down," I'd say, a pipe in my hand and a monocle at my eye. "One at a time, one at a time."

Finally, after much deliberation, I'd come to an agreement with the publisher who could offer me the greatest payout (seven figures), the most publicity, and a free car. The chosen publisher would be overwhelmed by their good luck in snagging my genius for such a reasonable price. Immediately upon reaching number one on the bestseller list, production would begin on a film adaptation of my book, starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Zooey Deschanel. The original score would be an unexpected yet surprisingly magnificent collaboration between Hans Zimmer and Patrick Wolf.

Meanwhile, I would cruise about London in my complimentary Bugatti Veyron with Greg, sipping Coke Zero and singing along to Bon Jovi.

And I'd be wearing this outfit the whole goddamn time.