This is what happens when I'm sick...

Wedded Bliss by RueCeri 

I look for pretty things to help me forget that my head is about to explode and end up pretending that instead of having a 5-year anniversary this year, it's 25 or something vow-renewal worthy like that. Or maybe it's all the NyQuil making me believe that people other than celebrities and reality-show stars can justify spending over a grand to renew their vows, or even do renew them, for that matter. Do regular people ever do that?

Either way, I found some pretty pieces, and I'm not entirely sure that I'm even really typing right now { is this a dream? } so I'm going to go with it. If I could renew my vows, this is what I'd wear.

I got to have a Cinderella ball gown for my wedding, and, having idolized Cindy for years, I wouldn't change that. I present Exhibit A:  imitating Cinderella on Halloween and at Disney......and Exhibit B:  my own poofalicious wedding gown.

However, having gotten the princess poof out of my system, I'd go with more streamlined elegance to celebrate my whole 5 years of wedded bliss.  Isn't it lovely? I'm seeing it with an outdoor ceremony at dusk, followed by dancing in some sort of gauzy, fairy-lit tent draped in ivy and pale roses tied with dove gray ribbons and pearls. Intimate round tables would be decorated with vintage tea sets and candles with pearls, crystals, and rose petals strewn about.

Too bad I don't have any long-lost, ridiculously wealthy relatives out there who'd want to fund this.  Whose sole pleasure would be to provide for my completely unnecessary yet dreamily elegant wedding vow-renewal ceremony...

No one out there like that, eh? Anyone want to convince the Husband for me?

Vivez la langue!

Paris 2009. Orange hair and red skin c/o living on the beach in Les Sables d'Olonne.

I came 'cross this video today at Dear Edna and couldn't resist sharing. This week my lovely Canadian principal, who shares my French passion, gave me a sparkly new lanyard { it sparkles-- literally } and told me they'd try to let me teach French next year to entice me to stay. { It's currently not in our budget. } Also, this semester she arranged the schedule so that I now teach 8 classes, rather than 7, but none of them are larger than 37 students! It's much better. Here's to fabulous supervisors and hoping for more time to blog and less stress this semester { and French in the future! }

Hourra!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vivez la langue = Live the language. Study abroad, people! / Hourra = Hooray!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I Wish...

Dress: Ruche / Sweater, Bracelet: F21 / Shoes: Endless.com (C. Label) / Belt: Consigned at Periwinkle / Watch: Gift (Fossil) / Tights: We Love Colors / Earrings, Purse: Gabes (Monet)

I wish I could wake up early and feel energized enough to go running. I wish I could come home right after work, flop on the bed with the Husband and Hound, enjoy a quick nap with the breeze floating in, wake up refreshed and ready to make a healthy meal, dine out on the deck, then spend the evening reading, relaxing with the Husband, and crafting { ha, like I know how to craft...but I do have hobbies, you know...or I used to, at least } until time for a candlelit bath and then bed.

But I can't. Because it's cold outside and running, warm breezes, and dining outside don't work too well in the cold. And because since I'm utterly exhausted from school and always stay late, we're more likely to have something frozen or quick to eat anyway. And instead of having fun or relaxing in the evenings, I spend them grading papers and planning lessons. Because I'm a first year teacher for the 3rd time. And I teach 5 different classes, 180 different students, and all levels.

Also, I'm not some pampered elf like Liv Tyler's pre-Aragorn { the Husband made me add that part } character from Lord of the Rings. Why didn't anyone tell me I couldn't be her when I grew up, living in the land of waterfalls and bliss?

P.S. In case any magical genies are out there reading this, I also wish that Hounds didn't shed. Just sayin'.

P.P.S.  Sorry for the gripe-fest. Sometimes I get overwhelmed. But then I wake up to scenes like this, with golden light illuminating the fog-shrouded mountain across the lake, and remember how lucky I really am. 

Don't mind our Hound cover on the sofa, with the pile of pillows underneath so she can prop up and enjoy the view.  

Sometimes I just need to step back and enjoy the view myself. Profite du jour*!

Linked up to G-Rated's Sunday Best again and The Pleated Poppy's What I Wore!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

*Profite du jour = Seize the day 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks to Ruche for featuring this outfit on Ruche's Style File!

10 Points to the Hound

Sweater: Ross ($7!) / Skirt: YesStyle / Boots: Ugg / Belt: UO / Tights: WalMart / Earrings: Gabes (Monet) / Necklace: Ruche / Bracelets: Christmas Gift (J Crew)

This afternoon, as the Husband and I moved towards the door to go snap these shots, the Hound eagerly followed, thinking she was getting another walk. The Husband, a bit annoyed since she'd just been out, told her to get out of the way and motioned for her to move. She bowed her head, put her tail between her legs, and slank away with a hurt expression.

Then, of course, the Husband felt bad. So he made a cozy nest of her favorite fuzzy blanket, put her in it, and got one of her favorite treats, a dried piece of yam wrapped in chicken jerky.

I've never seen her turn down one of these. Ever. But that's just what she did. She wouldn't take it, so he placed it before her and she didn't even sniff it. Not one tiny whiff. She just stared with the most woefully forlorn look you've ever seen.  

Absolutely heartbreaking. 

He patted and reassured her that she wasn't in trouble, but she still wouldn't take the treat. I told him she must be sick. She hadn't eaten her food that morning, and her tummy had been grumbling. Yes, that was it. She must be terribly ill. So we caressed and coddled her, trying to get her to lie down or try bits of the treat, to no avail.

Then, feeling bad that she was obviously not well and had wanted to go outside, we realized that perhaps she needed to go out again, so he said, "Okay, let's go," and motioned for her to come.

And at that sign of surrender, she picked up the treat, trotted to the door, tail wagging happily, and gulped it down before jumping up to have her leash attached. Booyah, suckers!

What should've been a 2 minute trip outside for us turned into a treat and a walk for her. So there you have example #935 of how Slurpee has cunningly achieved virtual carte blanche* in our home.

Oh my. We're in for some serious trouble when kids enter the picture.

P.S. The Husband calls this my Pancho Villa outfit. Mexican revolutionary references aside, it's not my favorite outfit, but it was quite a cozy church ensemble on such a blustery day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Carte blanche = the license to do whatever she wants (i.e.: have her way)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dognapper

Skirt, Top:  Consigned at Periwinkle / Belt, Jewelry: Christmas gifts (J Crew final sale)  / Shoes: Endless.com ( C. Label ) / Tights: Wal-Mart

I may or may not have stolen a dog last week. { Yeah, I did that. } I also put too much salt in my sun-dried tomato salmon Alfredo and forgot that no, I actually don't have a maid named Helga coming to clean my house. I was supposed to do that myself. It was a stellar week for me. The repairman coming by will just have to deal with crumbs around the frigo.

As for the dog, it was happily reunited with its owner. And I really didn't intend to kidnap it. I'd already gone to work once that morning and forgotten some important papers on my desk. As I was rushing home, I saw this lab playing on the railroad tracks that cross my road. Railroad tracks, people. Not far from a busy highway. I got out, looked around, saw no one, beckoned the dog, checked its tags, and called the owner. No answer. I opened the hatch of my car and it bounded right in. So I took it to back to school with me. Quite a sensible thing to do, if you ask me. All of the houses on my road save one are over a mile from the tracks, and I had no time to go knocking on doors.

Thankfully, the ladies in my school's office are dog lovers so they welcomed the stray right in and I got to class just in time.

So, remember how I said all the houses "save one" are far from the tracks on my road? Well, yeah. The dog belonged to that one.  Of course it did. 
 
And thus I went from dog-rescuer to dog-napper, all in the turn of one morning.  Class-tastic. 
 
P.S.  The Husband picked out the locale for these photos on an after-church drive. Suddenly, he pulls over and says, "right here-- this would be good for outfit pictures."  Every time I see those crumbs around the frigo I'm sure I've taught him nothing, but then he goes and does something like that, and suddenly I can't be mad about crumbs anymore, can I? 

P.S. It's Wednesday! That means it's halfway to Friday evening. Hooray!

 

---------------------------------------------------------------

*frigo = refrigerator

---------------------------------------------------------------