i will kick you, GPS

So. I got lost on my way home from work yesterday. This seems a little crazy, since I've been driving this same route home for almost three years, but I have a good excuse. There was a detour. Is there any more dreaded site on the road than a detour sign? Well, probably, but a detour is still pretty stress-inducing.

This detour was poorly marked. It was all "Detour! This way!" and then just left you there. I needed a follow up, because unless told otherwise, I am going to continue going straight until I get to my house. If that's not where this detour is taking me I need to be informed. I'm a step-by-step kind of girl.

Anyway, I quickly realized I had missed a turn somewhere, so I decided to just wing it and take the next left I saw and hope for the best. I had my GPS, what could go wrong?

The next left was called Pineswamp Road. I should have known. Yet I happily turned down Pineswamp Road. "Oh look at the trees and the fields, this is the scenic route." I told myself. Then things started to get real piney...and swampy...and the road got real narrow. And I saw the "Not a Thru Way" sign. I took out the GPS. Only to discover you cannot acquire satellites on Pineswamp Road. Shit.

I managed to keep my wits about me. By "keep my wits about me" I mean, slammed my hands on the steering wheel while shouting "STUPID DETOUR!" and turning around. And I kid you not, the satellites were acquired as soon as I got to the end of Pineswamp Road. And they guided me safely home. But not before the GPS could get in a few digs - "When possible, make a U-turn," "re-calculating." You shut up, you condescending GPS lady. She really gets on my nerves sometimes.

Today at work I discovered I am violently allergic to my office and was having sneezing fits and my nose became completely stuffed. I can't work with a stuffed nose, so I desperately needed to find a drug store to get some allergy meds. Since, after three years, I am still completely unfamiliar with the town in which I work, I had no idea if they even had a drug store. GPS to the rescue! I plugged in "drug store" and was on my way. Only to discover the directions had two steps. Turn right, destination ahead on the left.

I felt like an idiot. The tone in which that damn GPS lady gave me the directions didn't help either.  At least my nose wasn't stuffed. Even though I hate that damn GPS, and her damn obnoxious voice, I couldn't live without that thing. I am terrible at getting places on my own. Global Positioning Systems - can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.

girls guide to hunting

I love these boots. I got them at H&M while I was in New York last month. I was in an H&M in SoHo when I spotted them but they didn't have my size. The sales girl looked at me funny and said "Why don't you check the H&M down the block, we have the same stuff." THE H&M DOWN THE BLOCK. I'd have to drive to a whole 'nother mall here in the burbs if this happened at home! So that's what I did. I walked down the block and they had my size.

And I lived happily ever after.

Also, at one point this belt fit around my hips, you know, like a belt should. In order to hold up pants. Then it got way, way too small, but it fit my waist perfectly. So I kept it. Now it's too big for my waist, hence the last clutching-at-my-belt picture. It does, however, seem to fit around my hips again, for the most part. This belt and I have come full circle.

Dress - Modcloth
Belt - of unknown origins
Boots - H&M

presents for mia

Mia is my dog. She is a petite Maltese that loves cuddling, face licking, and rides in the car. She also loves getting presents. Yes, you read that right. This dog not only understands the word presents, she gets really, really excited about them.

It's our fault. She's spoiled rotten and is constantly getting presents.

The problem is, whenever someone else gets a present, Mia automatically assumes it's for her. She hears the rustle of the tissue paper or the sound of wrapping paper being ripped and immediately comes running. She'll sniff wildly and bark at you, alternating between jumping like a circus dog and trying to sit patiently until she finds out what is in that gift.

So we feel really bad when we open gifts and she doesn't get one. Like I said, we spoil her. So we end up digging out some old toy she hasn't played with in awhile and putting it in an empty gift bag and convincing her it's a new toy. The joy this dog experiences when she sticks her head into a gift bag and pulls out a toy she's actually had for years is just too cute for words.

I can only imagine this is what Christmas morning feels like when you have kids. Is it a little strange and kind of sad that we do this? Probably.  But it's too darn cute for me to care.