in which there is lace and there is lace

This outfit post was cursed.  I actually wore this outfit two days ago (how's that for full disclosure?) and it was so sunny that every shot was ridiculously washed out.  Which is not what you want when wearing an entirely white lace outfit.  As soon as I got to work that day, the skies clouded over, but by the time I left the sun was bright and shining again (what the heck?).  I drove around looking for a shady spot, to no avail, and finally gave up and waited for a cloudy day to try again ;)  But then... the sun came out.  Again.  Like, through the tiniest hole of unmoving clouds I've ever seen.  Anyway, I managed to snap at least a few photos under reasonable cloud cover, and that is (finally) the end of that story.

(skirt/shirt/belt: thrifted; hat/slip: urban outfitters; sandals: kohl's)

Last night was Art Club and it was lovely :)  The girls read the first 25 pages of my novel and genuinely seemed to like it.  A lot.  So that was an incredible relief.  They did have a few constructive suggestions, but the reaction was overwhelmingly positive.  I'm so happy :)  It was a really great meeting all around, and we have some big plans brewing that I think could be really amazing!

So, so glad that it is Friday.  Have a wonderful weekend!

in which i am a wooly watermelon

Apparently warm weather makes me want to dress like a watermelon. Today was a little bit more reasonably cool, so I could bust out the wool and the long sleeves, but the spirit is there. And my little black shoes look like seeds. Right? Maybe I went a bit too literal with the whole thing. No matter. Also, I am apparently the same color as my shirt. What am I going to do about this springtime lighting situation?? It makes everything look crazy weird.

(jumper: vintage via etsy; blouse/belt: thrifted; shoes: payless)

At last Friday has arrived. It's going to be a busy weekend! Tonight I'm going to see W.E. and to shop Goodwill with a couple of gal pals, tomorrow one of those same pals is having her short film screened at the Green Mountain Film Festival, so I'm definitely going to that, and then on Sunday I might finally get to hang out with K for once (date night????) unless he's still hard at work on his paper... boo hiss. Whew, I'm wiped out just writing all of that.

I've been doing one final readthrough of the novel before I print it out and scatter it to the wind, and it's been really helpful in identifying those sections that are super weak and will need major revisions, and which are actually pretty good (in my rather biased opinion, of course). Hopefully I'll be able to print some copies on Sunday at the UVM computer lab (sneaky, sneaky), so they won't cost me $1455324677 (seriously, FedEx, you are ridiculously overpriced).

Happy weekend, friends!

in which the denim jacket is the robin of blogging

I went for it. The denim jacket is definitely a transitional springtime garment. Not sure why that is, exactly, but it sure is. It snowed a little bit last night and started to get worried that maybe winter had just been lying in wait and that actually it would happen from March-June this year (how incredibly awful would that be???), but luckily I was just being paranoid and it all melted instantly.

(dress: banana republic; jacket/scarf: thrifted; glasses: forever 21; boots: seychelles; earrings: gift)

I've been working a lot lately on fleshing out my first draft of the novel, which makes me feel awesome and productive, and I think I might soon be ready to pass it on to friends for input (scariest thing ever!). I have always been super-secretive and have never let anyone close to me read what I've written, with the exception of those one-act play workshops I did in high school, which hardly count. Even when I was writing screenplays in college I never let anyone I actually knew read them--they were for my professor's eyes alone, and occasionally for the strangers in my class who were called upon to read aloud and critique. I can take constructive criticism from strangers. I'm not sure I can take it from my friends. What if they hate it? I'm already thinking about the next book, and how I can try to do better. How self-sabotaging of me!

On that note, I am going to go eat some Cheez-Its.

in which i am a caped caitlin

Finally, the end of the week! I thought it would never come...

(cape/belt/shorts/lace shirt: thrifted; hat: tomorrowneverknows via etsy; bracelet/necklace: gifts from k; boots: seychelles)

We had another wonderfully successful Art Club last night--the group is expanding! We discussed everything from knitting and music videos to sex and politics (I think that's just about the gamut), drank lots of red wine, and were generally awesome. Oh, and... yeah: I finished the rough draft of my novel on Wednesday night, so that's news (!!! :) !!!) Now there will be lots of revising and fleshing-out, but there are words on the page, from beginning to middle to end.

I kind of love the landscape around here lately--the brown grass overlaid with ice reminds me of Wuthering Heights or something. It just seems dramatic. Maybe more like Springtime in Siberia than Wuthering Heights. Whatever. It's pretty, in that dead-and-buried kind of way.

I don't have any big plans this weekend, and K is working both tonight and tomorrow night again, so I'll probably be hanging out in my living room watching Netflix Instant and eating chocolate-covered cherries (and real food, too... probably). Tomorrow I might take myself on a matinee date to see The Artist? We'll see how ambitious I am... hope you all have wonderful weekends!

i like red stripe(s)

I've been feeling very casual lately... there is something about the summer humidity that makes me want to siesta all day long. I can hardly drag myself out of bed in the morning (I haven't gone for a run in almost a week now...), and all day long the air is so heavy that even breathing can be exhausting. And so, I simplify! Easy-breezy summer shorts, stripes, and slipper-style shoes. And some glasses for good measure.

I didn't intend to model my outfit after Red Stripe, but that's what keeps popping into my head. I love Red Stripe, mostly because of its cute fat little bottle & the vintage-inspired simplicity of the label :) Yes, I judge beers by their covers... what of it?

That said, there is also something about the summer heat that helps to hoist my inspiration up from the ashes. Last night, K went to Burlington to meet up with one of his friends, so I stayed home with a glass (or two, or three) of vin rouge, moved the bistro table out onto the back porch, and set down to scribble out several pages of what I can now officially call "my novel." It's been difficult for me to settle on the pursuit of one particular storyline (I usually have several ideas grappling for my attention at any given time), but this one has so far proved itself to be the most productive... so, it's decided!

So, the sad news is that K has gone "home" for the Holidays (aka to his parents' house) and I am left all alone in our festive little barn apartment. Getting him on the airplane turned out to be quite the ordeal. The huge blizzard that surprised the East Coast this weekend didn't directly affect us here in VT, but his connecting flight in DC was cancelled (one of the problems with living in a small state is that you can't really get out without stopping somewhere along the way). After hours on hold with Delta we drove to the airport to reschedule in person and ended up booking a flight out of Boston for super-early the next morning (all flights out of Burlington were booked until two days before Christmas). Unfortunately, by the time we got back to the apartment the storm had hit Boston and they were getting all freaked out down there and cancelling flights like crazy people. Finally, after hours and hours on hold (again...and I mean hours) he decided to book a flight with another airline and I ended up driving him all the way down to Boston (we only experienced the very tail-end of the storm) and all the way back that same evening. I couldn't even light up the tree when I got home... it was too depressing. I'll be going "home" (aka to my parents' house) tonight to spend some quality time with the family for the next couple of weeks.

In the meantime, I took advantage of K's absence by borrowing his clothes! HA! Shh don't tell:

Sometimes I wish I were taller, but being small does have its perks! I mean, K is tall but he's not a giant or anything... and the shirt is still only borderline inappropriate when worn as a dress (By me. If he wore it as a dress that would be inappropriate in many ways. Not that I don't support men wearing dresses if they're into that kind of thing).

So last night I was a little less bummed out about his desertion (time heals all wounds...) and decided to spend some quality time with myself. I wined and dined (mm yes please leftover fried-bean-curd-in-garlic-sauce chinese takeout):

Hung out in the library:

And watched two consecutive documentaries about the Ballet:

I've been meaning to watch these films for a long time, not just because I have a newfound infatuation with ballet (which I do... although I suppose it's more of a fascination), but because I'm doing "research." I've been frustrated with my creative stagnation for long enough--and while this blog offers temporary relief on a day-to-day basis (like bandaids or tylenol), it doesn't really satisfy my serious artistic impulses. I need to move beyond the quick fix and focus more of my attention on truly finding fulfillment. And so I found myself scribbling notes about ballerinas on a Tuesday night... and that's good! That's a first step, anyway.

I've had many ideas over the past couple of years and never sat down to develop them, but I keep returning to the concept of spirituality and faith in the modern world and the ways in which people create their own sort of "religion" when they are disconnected from traditional religious communities. I know people who have found calmness and completion in religious devotion and faith--people who are generally far more well-balanced and comfortable with their humanity than I will ever be--and as someone who can't subscribe to any particular religious doctrine, I find myself observing the ways in which other people fill that spiritual void.

The development of my potential story began long ago with "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance..." or maybe "What the #$*! do We (K)now?" (a silly movie, but a good starting point for brain-jumping) and moved through Simone de Beauvoir and the philosophy of the individual, mysticism and eastern religion (esp. Sufism & the whirling dervishes), quantam theory, Leonard Cohen's zen Monastery and performance as prayer, the faith of the masses in Obama's political mission and movement, the ways in which romantic love parallels and possibly replaces divine love...

Wow, blah blah blah, right? This is why I need to sit down and "develop," because otherwise I ramble ramble ramble and never really get my point across.

Anyway, that's what I'm working on. In case you were wondering.

PS. I apologize for the disorderly state of my dresser drawers. It's bound to happen when you have one tiny tiny closet and an overabundance of clothes, but I admit I probably could have at least tried to close them.

PPS. If your eyes were distracted from the disheveled dresser by the visible half of my awesome antique singer sewing machine, well played.