Two nine

Top: J.Crew | Skirt: JCPenney | Heels: DSW

I've made the leap (amble? inevitable drag?) into another age, from 28 to 29. I really like prime numbers, so I'm pretty enthused about being 29. I don't have any significant life plans for 29, except maybe probably moving in with my boyfriend, who very patiently listened to my strongarming ("I can't wait to get flowers for my birthday!"), and spending a likely very humid week with him in New Orleans in August. Lots of painting walls and decorating and gardening and all that cute crap that comes with living with the person you love. Maybe a couple more 5K races, if my knees can hold up (more on my first ever 5K later this week, I promise). Other than that: more work, more money, more (fewer?!) problems. One can hope. One can always hope.

A morning phase

ugh stupid extra long liner



Coat: Eddie Bauer | Cardigan: Target | Skirt: Ann Taylor Factory | Flats: Target

We need to talk about Beck's win for the Album of the Year Grammy.

I made a semi-serious commitment to listen to all five Album of the Year nominees so I could review them for work, where we post staff picks every few weeks on our website. I purchase all the music for our library system, so I try to review a lot of music. Pro bono publico, you know. I listened to all five albums, and the only one I wanted to listen to again was Morning Phase. I've found that a lot of albums now are more a compact set of singles crammed together onto one disc, but Beck's album was a comprehensive piece. You can't take a song out of it an make it a single. It is truly an album, and that is what I loved so much about it. Morning Phase suck with me. At work, I called Beyoncé the album that would win, X by Ed Sheeran the album that should win (he's an excellent songwriter), and Morning Phase was the album that I quite selfishly wanted to win, because I liked it.

So fast forward to Grammys night, and Beck wins. And I die. And then Kanye West ruins it. And then Beck saves it. And then Kanye ruins it again.

I made the mistake of looking at Twitter at one point, and I was overwhelmed by the typical "who is this hippie" tweets. But I also saw a few tweets that claimed this was discrimination--that instead of "giving" the award to a black woman or a gay man, Grammy voters "gave" the award to a white man. Just so we're clear, Sam Smith--the gay man in question--walked home with four Grammys, so that complaint is null. Beyond that, though, Sam Smith is also a white man! In addition, Beyonce also won three Grammy Sunday night. So that complaint is also null. What disappoints me most, though, is that a number of people have decided to shake away the great equalizing that music can do. You don't see who makes the music when you listen on the radio, turn up your iPhone, open Pandora. You hear the sound first, and everything else comes second. Music has this way of subverting and rising well above the basic differences we have to bring us together, to give us shared experiences. The albums are what are nominated, not just the people who performed the work. But instead, some viewers/listeners were ripping away the experience and looking just at a scrawny white Scientologist on the stage and making judgments based on that.

Fortunately for us all, Morning Phase is about much more than that. It's a smart album, and for my review at work, I compared it to the way moss grows on a tree: the album's beauty grows on you slowly at first, and then all at once. Beyonce's album may have been a new way to market, but it wasn't the most exceptional album of the year. Sam Smith sang about the same thing for 40 minutes straight. Ed Sheeran tried, but failed, to vary his music quite enough to make it count. And Pharrell put out some jams, but there was no cohesion to the album. Beck managed to strip away all the negatives of the other nominees' albums while containing their positives, all while putting his own touch on the work. And that's why Morning Phase deserved to win. I'm quite glad it did.

What to wear to the Governor's Ball Music Festival if you're not from New York

Governor's Ball Music Festival
June 6-8, 2014
Randall's Island, New York City, NY

I have wanted to go to a music fest for a very, very long time, and living where I do, options for music festivals are few and far between. I could drive to Bonnaroo and deal with tents and hippies and mud and no showers and sitting in a car for ages just to get in and out, or I could fly elsewhere and throw down a lot of money for a hotel, a ticket, and travel.

welllllllllll

This year, Outkast reunited. It's kind of a big deal. And while coachella got the first big OMG WE HAVE OUTKAST announcement, the group also announced on their website that they would be headlining at the 2014 Governor's Ball Music Festival. This was a new fest that I hadn't heard of before, and with somewhat good reason--it's only been around for four years. So I started doing research. The fest was three days, on Randall's Island, plum between Manhattan, Queens and the Bronx. It also took place on my birthday weekend, June 6th through 8th. Whoa. Did stars just align? And then they announced the lineup, which included Jack White, Vampire Weekend, Janelle Monae, Outkast (obv) and about a billion other bands that would be ridiculous for me to list but let me tell you I was stoked just reading the list.

It seemed like mostly a pipe dream, because Gov Ball took place at the same time as the start of summer reading at work, but I was APPROVED for time off for the fest and I sprung into action, grabbing a 3 day ticket and emailing my friend E., who lives with her husband in Park Slope, & who was deeply kind to offer to let me stay with them for free while I was in the city. It came together! I got a ticket for the shuttle, planned my flight so I'd have one free day before the fest to do with what I pleased, and started saving money. I had to buy some shorts because most of my shorts are officially barn shorts now, but here's what I wore on all three days. (I was probably the least hip person there. I don't care.)

Day 1 (June 6)



Top: J. Crew | Shorts: Walmart | Shoes: Toms
Bands: Outkast, TV on the Radio, Phoenix, La Roux, Bastille, Janelle Monae, Little Daylight
Food: mac and cheese (Beecher's), cheesesteak (Carl's)

Day 2 (June 7)



Top: Boden | Shorts: Boden | Shoes: Toms
Bands: Jack White, Sleigh Bells, The Strokes, Broken Bells, Fitz and the Tantrums, Classixx
Food: risotto ball (Arancini Bros), chopped beef sandwich (Mile End Deli)

Day 3 (June 8)



Top: Target | Shorts: Boden | Shoes: Toms
Bands: Vampire Weekend, Foster the People, The Kills, The Head and the Heart, Tyler the Creator, Frank Turner
Food: lobster roll (Luke's Lobster)

I have spared you all a shot of the aggressive Toms tan that I received while at the festival. But here's a look at what my poor Toms look like now that they've been through the ringer:



Gross.

Gov Ball was wild. I will say that going alone probably wasn't AS good as going with someone, simply because I didn't want to make friends with groups of people, but it also allowed me to do whatever the hell I wanted, which was awesome. That's one of my favourite parts of traveling alone--you do you the whole time. It's pretty fantastic. One day I brought a book with me to help pass time between bands, and I found myself more than once by someone else reading a book. It's like a secret handshake for bookworms...except it's blatantly obvious. Whatever, you get the point.

I took my trusty green Jansport bookbag with me, and that thing more than paid its dues (I also used it when I was driving across America, so it's been all over). I was able to haul my camera (which stayed home after day one because security deemed it "professional camera equipment" which isn't allowed), a towel, sunblock, a book, my phone, my charger, a bottle of water, and anything else I wanted to lug with me.

I had a really awesome time at Gov Ball. I might go back someday. I have many tiny stories that I can tell--about charging my phone, about the people I met, the food I ate, and the bands I saw--but they're not interesting when they're all rolled into one. They might leak out bit by bit. But at least there's this post with all my clothes so I can remember it! (I will be writing an additional post about my free day in Manhattan, which...will be much different.) But for now...I'm glad to be home!

Burn baby burn

Dress: Dorothy Perkins via DIYFATSHION | Belt: Target | Heels: Urban Outfitters

I close at my library on Wednesdays, which means I get to work at noon and leave at 9. It also means I take a crazy early dinner break (though at work we usually still refer to it as lunch). Today I was looking for something quick after I took my outfit photos, so I zipped over to the local noodle house for some wontons and white rice (my weakness). So I took a bite into my first wonton...and it burned. It burned so bad, you guys. I'm pretty sure I actually have a burn on the roof of my mouth because it tastes acidic and I can't really feel anything in my palate when my tongue touches the area.

But you know what? I'd rather have palate damage than tongue damage, which I had after the Banana Incident of 2014. And those wontons were delicious, so it was worth it.

Pucker up

Top: Gap | Belt: Target | Skirt: Talbots | Flats: Payless | Lips: NARS Lodhi

Today is the first day since The Banana Incident of 2014 that I have felt okay with wearing lipstick. I was a little scared, but my lips have held up. I am rather desperately hoping that my lips remain okay--there was a point during the whole little trauma that I thought my lips would scar, that they'd never be the same. Along with my hair, my lips have been one of the few body parts of mine that I have never lamented, and the idea of them being irreparably altered was crushing. So I'm happy to report that the worst seems to have passed, and if not, then I have a giant tube of hydrocortisone that will make sure things eventually get back to normal. Crisis: averted.

New day

Necklace: J.Crew Factory | Top: Target | Skirt: Ann Taylor Outlet | Heels that you can't see: Urban Outfitters | Lips: NARS Lodhi

Today was my first day doing the job I interviewed for, and it felt no different than my old job. I work at the same library, in the same department, doing the same things, just in a greater capacity. There's a lot coming down the pipe, but right now, my department's in survival mode because two positions are currently open. Soooo I've just been doing my usual, and I'm happy with that. I did spend three whole minutes in my new office today, which is kind of a big deal. It's an advanced upgrade from the drawer that I had all to myself, to say the least.

Support system

High five me, bro!

Dress: Anthropologie | Belt: Ann Taylor Factory Store | Wedges: Target | Lips: NARS Jungle Red

I am up to my EARS in storytelling stuff, y'all. Books, stories, books on stories, lectures on stories, chats on stories, analyses of stories. I may sound like I'm complaining, and in a way I am--everyone warned me about Maymester classes!--but it's also kind of awesome. I performed one of my stories for my boss today and she was extremely jazzed, and I had a lot of fun doing it. I've never considered storytelling as something I can do. I have a thing about public speaking; I'm not afraid of it, but I subconsciously and physiologically respond to it. My heart races. I begin to blush. I get hot. But generally, none of this happens until the speaking is actually over. And the nice thing about storytelling is that once it's over, it is OVER. Unless you're in class, there's no feedback. As soon as you walk in front of you, everyone wants you to succeed. They all want to hear the story. That's why you're there, and if you panic, that's okay, because you take a second, you take a deep breath, and then everyone wants even MORE for you to do well. Which is kind of an amazing thing. If only all public speaking were that supportive.

I don't like the sound of mature

Cardigan: Target | Dress: Anthropologie | Tights: Target | Heels: Urban Outfitters

Who watches Downton Abbey? No spoilers, but here is the only GIF you could ever need for any Downton Abbey fandom. Also, no shame, my favourite is Edith. I relate with her sad sack never get a man but can drive a car and write for a paper attitude. Also I like her hair. Also, Downton Sixbey's Hedith is the best part, aside from everything else in the parody, which is also the best part. I'll stop now.

Just kidding. Here is an interesting article about what Salon poses as The Lady Edith Problem.

Stormy weather

Umbrella: Totes | Sweater: Gap Outlet | Jeans: American Eagle | Flats: Toms | Nails: butter London Dosh

I had an appointment today with my orthopedist to discuss my back. Many a coworker have asked why I don't go to a chiropractor or get a massage or do some stretches, but it's hard to explain sciatic pain if it's never been felt, and it's even harder to explain why I have it when I'm 26, and why I had it when I was 19. In short, I fell off a horse when I was 18 and smashed three discs into my spinal cord, causing very strong nerve pain which travelled down my leg for a year and half. It took that long to go through the physical therapy, the myriad of drugs, the epidurals, and finally the surgery that stopped the pain and helped me get back to living my life. (All while bouncing between two homes, one at college in VA and one in Cardiganland.) A chiropractor could not adjust the herniated discs in my back; scraping off what was forcing itself into my spine was the only thing that worked. For six years, one month and eighteen days, anyway. And then it was back, stronger and weirder than ever--on both sides, and worst where my hip and leg meet, deep in my butt. It's so fun to display to my doctors where the pain is. It's been three weeks since it started, and I have been self-medicating with a bottle of my mom's Vicodin that expired in 2009 because it hurts that much. My orthopedist kindly never mentioned the S word, and I've begun round number two of a pill cocktail after completing a failed attempt to soften the pain via PT. Unfortunately these drugs don't make me loopy, so my posts will probably remain as boring and dorky as usual. Sorry! There are few options left before I end up back on the table, but the doctor doesn't "see any preliminary evidence of" another herniated disc. Good thing, since I don't have much of the last one left. So there's my sad, pathetic story of why I'm lazy and there are so few action shots now and I can't walk so well and it's weird when I try to stand or sit or lie down or breathe.

In other news: this sweater is awesome, you guys. Shoulder waves!

Blocking

Headband: H&M | Locket: heirloom | Top: J.Crew | Ribbon: off a dress from Belk
Skirt: Target | Heels: Urban Outfitters
Twenty-three of thirty

You see that pockmark on my leg? I'm pretty sure I somehow accidentally managed to straight up rub a hole in my leg. I don't know how I did it, but I vaguely recall (like you would recall a dream in that hazy way) having an itch and scratching the skin right off. Awesome story, right? In other news, I am colourblocking, which I thought was something we all did pretty much every time we wore separates, but apparently it's a thing. So here it is in all its glory. I don't even know if I did it right, you guys. Whatever! I'm not naked!