Three things to rock right now...

ONE

Jay Z

The man is married to Beyonce, who is the one person in the world that may kill it more than he does. One word: Grammys. The man raps in a 3 piece suit while his wife, a new mom, dances in a thong bodysuit and everyone's jaw drops. Okay. Here you go. Listen away.



TWO

Dry Shampoo

I haven't washed my hair in three days. I hit my snooze button four times today. I went cross-country skiing yesterday. Woke up, sprayed, rubbed it in, brushed it out, and somehow my hair looks better than it does if I spend 15 minutes in the shower, 20 minutes blowdrying and another 20 curling/straightening/otherwise destroying and frying my locks.

So, here's to you Dry 'poo. I love you...

THREE

Ralph Lauren's "Non Iron" white collar shirts

I used to iron my dad's shirts for a quarter when I was young. Consequently, I despise ironing. However, I also own 35 million white collared shirts, because that's what I wear almost daily. So waking up late, as I seem to be in the habit of doing, really puts a damper on the morning ironing routine. Since I also fail at planning ahead the night before, I end up just running late.

UNTIL...

I found these shirts. While I'd normally imagine these being marketed to your typical bachelor, they are available to the fairer sex (us). And life really doesn't get better. Out of the drier these shirts are wearable.

Thus, Jay Z pumping, dry shampoo bottle in hand, I could get ready on my 5 minute car ride to work, no prob[lem]. BAM.

Black, white, and ...

... everything in between. Grey, right? Is that what's between black and white?

Point, Jess. Get to the point.

I only really care about black, white and grey lately. Some shades of brownish-grey may be acceptable, but only with crisp white and a perfect black included.

We aren't just talking clothes (although I'm always thinking about them - and let's be honest... I've worn some form of black pant for about 3 months straight).

We are talking home decor, phone, computer background, water bottles, car, life, really. I have pinterest pages dedicated to the obsession. Two. I kind of wish my husband and dog were monochrome.

Okay, too much sepia-tone.
But you get the point
(in addition to this not being my husband)

The bigger issue is, of course: What does this say about me? I'm not depressed, because white is a HaPpY color. I'm not boring, because, well, you know me, I'm not particularly boring. I'm just not. I read books.

Guys. I bought a beautiful, highly-discounted purse, but its color was "sand", and I TOOK IT BACK. I wanted black. Or winter white.

So why this obsession? I think I just miss modernity. And clean things. Anyone else feeling like winter white and a perfect black would just make your day?

Growing up #$@*&

My husband mentioned to me (while I was doing my nighttime routine and he in the shower... so perhaps I was a bit grumpy and ready to go to bed) that I curse too much on my blog. He's probably right.

BUT, in my defense, I have just realized that I'm now a grown-up. At the ripe age of 27 (I think that's how old I am? When you start forgetting, you know you're growing old...), I am a woman, not a girl. About darn time.

With being a grown up comes the ability to curse when appropriate. Like, on blogs, when nobody can see my facial expressions, of which I have many.

Additionally, as a child, my vocabulary was severely restricted. Couldn't say "shut up" "this sucks""shit"... you get the point. NOTHIN'. In fact, we were told to call farts "sparts", which my auto-correct just confirmed my childhood fear that "sparting" is not a real verb.

Then, when I "grew up" I heard my mom say "shit," and I, well, almost "shit" my pants. And then I decided since only my mom reads this blog anyway, I can say things like "shit," because my Baptist Mommasita says it when she cuts herself while chopping onions in the kitchen.

Really, it all comes down to being ladylike and pleasant and holding in the curse words for later, though. I'm a lady. Or something. People call me ma'am and no longer ask for my ID when I order wine.

When did you first realize you were grown up? It's rough huh?

Eastside living ... ghetto running?

Panting = good.

The most beautifully long dirt road everrrrrrrrrr.

I went on a beautiful trail run yesterday. Birds were singing, sun rays were causing me wrinkles, endorphins were peaking, Maxdog ran his butt off.

And then the gunshots started.

What?! I had been on the trail for an hour. There is NO wild game in season. Seriously. So close to my comfort zone (and my body).

Maxdog luckily ran barking after the crazy hicks. I never really saw them through the thick trees. So all of you with guns: you're never alone, even when you think you are. I WILL BE WATCHING YOU (with my .22 on my hip and some mace in my pocket).

XOXO

Happy Frickin' New Year

Blah!

Everyone I follow on Bloglovin' has been posting their goals for a new year, their "best moments" of 2013, what they want to buy in 2014... on and on and fricking ON with the damn YEAR CHANGE.

Guess what. It's another day. The only change is that if you still happen to write checks, which nobody does, you now have to change a 3 to a 4, which, admittedly, can be a challenge.

For 2014, I promise to keep rockin' it, just like in 2013, because I did a pretty awesome job yesterday, and I'm not going to change today. That would be dumb. It would suggest that I could possibly try harder this year to be better at my job, or a better wife, or a better athlete... like last year I was slacking, and one day is going to change anything. 

Nope. 

I wasn't, and it isn't.

For instance, over the entirety of 2013, I learned that champagne is stupid, it gives you a terrible hangover, and it doesn't taste that great. So last night, I didn't drink it. NOT a New Year's resolution, because it was still 2013, but I grew up, and hope to continue that trend. As a result, today I have no hangover. Winning. I bet you all can't say the same BITCHES!

Happy next day.

XOXO