What to Wear...Thursday.

Okay, so I was supposed to do this yesterday, yeah, yeah, yeah. However, all you Smith & Emmie's out there should be super excited I waited.

A friend of mine got a box today full of delightful little bras from Urban Outfitters that are fun, pretty and functional. Yes, functional.

With so many sheer tops, side-less tops, backless tops, and whatever the heck they think of next, these beauties are the perfect solution to the 'Uh, what do I wear under that?' problem.

You can still feel comfortable and not worry about nipple covers falling off (i.e. My high school prom....but that's another blog post.) Or trying to hide your bra straps, or those god-awful strapless bras that never stop falling down (for those of us who are less endowed), or worse yet, opting to not wear those oh-so-adorable tops.

Here ya go ladies, show those brassieres off.

I mean, how hot is the back?

the bad & the ugly...

via pinterest

A week ago or so I had hit a rough patch. I was questioning my involvement in a few things, feeling tension with a good friend and having family issues. I sat down at my computer and thought what the heck is wrong with me? Am I an asshole?

I thought of my favorite author, Miss Gilbert, and her book Committed.  In it, her and her lover Felipe, write a list of their worst traits. Of course we can take the good that comes with someone. The fact they are funny or smart or good-looking. But what about the bad? We all come with not-so-great traits.

I started making a list and trying to really think about it. Being neurotic like I can tend to be, I started questioning my list. Am I really this way? What about this... That one time I did this, does that make me? You get the idea...

So, as I continue to slave over my list, last night I realized one thing that is for sure under my bad traits: I can be a freaking slob.

Exhibit 1: Last weekend I washed my sheets for the second time since April. I still have not made my bed with those sheets. Instead, the pillowcases and fitted sheet sit crumpled in ball at the bottom of my bed. The other sheet lays on top of my mattress, and that my friends, is what I sleep on top of. Exhibit 2: Last night I came home from a 3 hour meeting, ate a piece of cornbread for dinner. And a cookie. Or maybe it was two cookies. I had a glass of wine with my roomies, and at about 11:30, ate a chocolate ice cream bar. At midnight, I made my way up stairs. Sleeping in the shirt I had worn that day. I didn't brush my teeth or take off my make up. I was completely sober.

Now, most nights I brush my teeth. And some nights I take off my make up. But my bedroom floor is usually covered in clothes and the sheet thing... I have been guilty of since college.

I don't know why I am this way, but I am. I get my bouts where I pick up every day, and I swear to you, when things start to get "dirty" versus "messy" I will spend the day cleaning. But the mess has never bothered me or given me an ounce of anxiety. I'd rather spend the night visiting with my friends, or cuddled up with that man I can't seem to stop liking. I like to look at this way: I have a life to live people. The tidying thing is a waste of life. And I am sticking to that. Now, the falling asleep without brushing my teeth and taking my make up off...that is just bad hygiene. Whoops.

a leap in the dark

Last night I had a revelation in the shower—where all my great thinking gets done, obviously. I decided that I needed to become more spontaneous.

I’m not sure how others would describe me, but spontaneous is definitely not a word I would use to describe myself. Although I’m always up for trying new things {usually}, I’m rarely the first to suggest it. I love adventure and new experiences, but I usually need a little prompting from others to get me to go out and do it.

But lately, I’ve been feeling like I need something more in my life. I’m pretty stuck in my routine of work, hanging out with friends, going to church, etc. Obviously that’s not bad per se, but it just feels a little stagnant. I get bored easily and right now I feel bored of my own life—never a good thing. Thus, I need spontaneity to encourage me to do new things on a whim to see where it takes me.

From spontaneity comes growth in new experiences. You learn new things about yourself by pushing yourself to do things that you would not ordinarily do. I’m ready to feel free and excited about the prospect of new things again. I don’t think I’ve truly felt “carefree” since college—I was living in Chicago, getting to do new and exciting things every day. I want that back, without having to run off somewhere else to find it.

The plan* is to start small. Be positive. And embrace the unknown. (*planning to be spontaneous… quite the oxymoron)

Inspired to be spontaneous with me? Here are some ideas to get us started…

• Start by saying “yes” more
• Color your hair a shade you’ve always wanted to try but never dared to do
• Take a last minute trip someplace you’ve always wanted to go—near or far
• Call a friend you haven’t talked to in a while
• Stop a stranger and compliment them on their outfit
• Go skinny dipping ;)
• Go to a movie in the middle of the day
• Try a new food
• Get in your car and just drive

“All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous, unpremeditated act without benefit of experience.” Henry Miller

Passion Play

I've always envied those people who KNOW what their passion is. I have a friend who is a DJ. He loves what he does. He is great at it. He used to pretend to DJ when he was a kid. He just knew.

Those people who know from the get-go what they want to be when they grow up and then still actually want to be that amaze me. When I was little I wanted to be a marine biologist. In high school, I thought I wanted to be an English teacher. Then I switched it to journalist because it sounded more exciting. (And, as a journalist I figured I'd get to "live in the shoes" of another person constantly, and maybe that is how I would find out what I loved to do.) In college, I stuck with the journalism thing. I was pretty good at it, and as a straight-laced geek at that age I didn't dare change my major and get behind.

Now as a 20-something I still have an "I want to be..." list that is forever changing. I still want to do journalism. I want to win a Pulitzer and write something that changes society's view on an important issue. I want to expose a problem or bring light to a situation that needs the attention of people. I also want to own a small business, be a mother, start an animal shelter, write a book, invent something, be a counselor and an art teacher. Or maybe second grade teacher. I have a lot of careers on my to-do list and I better get cracking.

Today though, these last few weeks in fact, I've gotten to dive back into something I once really loved. Something that I never wished to make any money off of. Something I liked to do just for the sake of doing it. Something that although not necessarily my passion, felt pretty dang close. IF I can guess what living one's passion feels like.

That, my bloggies, is photography. Now, I know, I know, everyone nowadays is a photographer. But I do get to mention the following street cred: high school photography and a photography course in college (which I got an A in, duh). Okay, that makes me pretty low on the totem poll. But, I do know how to shoot in manual and I feel I can frame a picture pretty well. I also don't always give a crap about the rules, which I think helps when it comes to being behind the lens. I also get to put my creative ideas into action and not hope that the photographer I'm trying to explain my vision too can one, understand what the hell I am talking about, and two, do it the way I would do it. (Control freak, anyone?)

So the point of this post is mainly to ramble and come true on my promise to blog every day (Hey, it's 11:20 people, it is still Monday.) But to also encourage the readers of Smith & Emma to always keep trying to figure out your passion and find things you love. To have an "I want to be..." list that still exists at 70.

I've settled on the fact that my passion may just be trying to find it. It means my tombstone will get to say something like "Mediocre at a lot of things." Which is fine by me. To me, it means I lived a life worth living. Who says you have to be the best at something? What does that even mean anyway...

Here are some shots I have taken for Maude Boutique...All unedited....so you can really judge me. ;)