Thursday, June 28, 2012

Confessions of a style blogger, part V

Aaand it's time for another round of my very favorite game, Confessions of a Style Blogger!  If you're new around these here parts, I occasionally write a post full of random facts about moi and invite you to play along in the comments. Without further adieu: confessions, part V!

1. I cannot think of a single day in my entire life that I haven't made my bed, barring sick days where I simply hung out there from morning til night. When I was a freshman in college, my roommate used to laugh at me for probably being the only 18-year-old in the entire universe that took the time to try and figure out how to make a lofted bed. It involved lots of wiggling and praying to all that is holy that I didn't fall straight onto the futon six feet below me, if you are looking for tips.

dress: c/o eshakti; shoes: target

2. I have matching birth marks on the tops of both of my kneecaps. Up until the age of oh, six? I was certain that this was just a thing that everyone had.

3. I wore this outfit to my golden birthday party-- hence, the shoes. A few weeks ago, I saw these shoes at Target, promptly dismissed them as the world's most ridiculous things, and then walked away to forget about them forever. Actually, I forgot about them for ten minutes, left the store, and then could not stop thinking about how perfect they'd be for golden birthday shenanigans. A few weeks later I went back, found them for $8 on clearance and bought them without a second thought. Best glittery $8 I've ever spent. 

4. Once, when I was working at Starbucks, I was proposed to over the drive-thru.
Well, not exactly. But I'm going to tell this story anyway. 
It was oh, 5 AM, and I was the only one working up front. (Disclaimer: I am perpetually cheerful. Not even getting up before the sun would deter my cheerfulness. This is important for the story.) I took the order of someone over the drive-thru, in my happiest, friendliest morning voice. He drove up, I gave him his coffee, and he asked me something. I was still a little foggy (hello, morning), and thought he'd said "Are you Mary?" Me, of course, being Mary, cheerfully responded: "Yes, I am!" To which he responded: "Your husband is one lucky guy!" ...and drove off into the sunset rise. Five seconds later, I realized he'd asked if I was married... uh, let's remember I was 17. AWKWARD.

That's all for me (uh, for the time being). Let's hear it! What are your confessions? 


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