so daybreak is a really cool place, and not just because of the pool, the lake, the kayaking, the fact that they shovel our driveway for us, the adorable old fashioned homes, the view of the salt lake valley, the miles and miles of paved trails, the red tulips planted everywhere, the fact that the building codes include a park within five minutes of every home, the free outdoor concerts every weekend in the summer, the formal dances for grown ups, the energy efficient homes, and the gorgeous lds temple down the street.
daybreak is cool because it's meant to be a community.
let me show you what i mean.
our house, obvi.
and this is the park five minutes, (two really) from our house.
here are the red tulips that are planted all over.
this is the lake:
cute guy.
teaching travis to use the dslr. slightly blurry, but he's getting better and better.
there's something about living in a beautiful place.
and this is what a typical street in daybreak looks like:
so there you have it.
and yes, it reminds me so much of desperate housewives or pleasant-ville or something.
now, to find a group of girlfriends to fullfill my desperate housewives fantasy.
except we won't cheat on our husbands with the lawn boy or hide dead bodies in the woods.
last week i really just wanted to look hot. like head turning hot. and all winter i have basically been wearing the same thing- jeans, peacoat that never comes off because it's so damn cold in all my classrooms, and boots. feelin' the frump.
so last week i put on probably the sexiest pair of shoes i own, these skin tight leather boots with ridiculously high heels and didn't wear a coat. actually wore something figure flattering. lipstick. curled the hairs. dark eye shadow. i was only going to school, but shoot, i was going to GO to school. right?
the catch: those sexy boots, yeah they are freakin' old. and the material on the heels is all peeled back. i'm way too poor to justify spending sixty bucks for new ones. solution? that black tape, it has a name that i'm blanking on, just wind it around the heels and WAH LAH! boots are good to go. but you have to be careful not to walk on grass or in anything wet like snow, because the adhesive in the tape fails.
got to school, walked the walk, (it's a long walk to class) avoided the puddles and grassy shortcuts. and then, an obstacle- stairs. steep stairs. two guys standing at the top of the stairs. in my head: oh yeah, i'm hot, i'm totally working these stairs, those two guys won't know what hit- and BAM, fall down the stairs, grab onto hand railing, and instantly turn red. and start laughing obnoxiously loud and looking around. the two guys who were definitively never checking out my butt were very concerned and i was very embarrassed. and the tape job i did on the heels? totally shredded. i'm just not sexy hot anymore. i can barely walk down a flight of stairs in heels. marriage has lulled me into the comfort of sweatpants and ponytails.
today i tried again. squeezed into my hotpants, aka jeggings, a tucked in white v-neck, and my orange high heels. happy to report only one trip, and that was at the very beginning of the trek through trax.i ran into my friend from class, a late thirties guy who is gay, and he exclaimed, "oh work it girl!"
**i include the part about him being gay so you will know i don't have a secret older-man-boyfriend. because he's not into gals. and i do have a thing for older men. and grey hair. and slightly leathery skin... one day travis will be the most beautiful old man... ahh but i digress.**
the point is, i can still squeeze into my hotpants and wear obnoxious colored heels. even if i do get overly excited about a new vacuum. once a friend on facebook told me it doesn't matter what i look like anymore because i'm married. i found that very offensive for several reasons. firstly, our culture really only values me for one thing and that is how i look. for him to tell me that, it was like he was saying, "don't worry, now that you have nothing to offer, you have permission to blend into the background and become invisible." and the older women get, the more invisible they are. don't believe me? how many 40+ women do you see in the media? yep, guys get older and they just get better looking, like i just said, and women get older and we are hidden. we are raised to obey patriarchy, then only valued for how hot our ass looks in jeans, and then we bear children and raise them, which is no small task, we acquire wrinkles, extra pounds, grey hair, and it's all over.
phew, that was negative and sad. not sure what it has to do with me wearing orange heels and wanting to look hot. seems like an oxymoron maybe?
yes, i'm married and slightly invisible. like this:
because now that i'm married, there is no reason for any man to try to be just friends, because i have only one thing to offer a man and now the possibility of that offer is gone.
rant, rant, rant. i can curl my hair and wear high heels and still be a feminist. surprise!
i do have a best friend who is a male and we are and have always been just friends.
it's possible.
i'm married, and i'm still workin' the hotpants. even if it's just for me. it is really awesome to know that travis finds me just as sexy in sweats as in lingerie.
sometime, tell an older woman in your life how beautiful, wonderful, and intelligent she is. she probably doesn't hear those things enough.
i refuse to hate my body for aging. i refuse to hate myself for getting grey hairs. for you mothers out there, don't you dare hate your body if it's not what it was before childbirth. ok.
that'll do pig, that'll do. wth, please stop blogging and do your homework.
xo
remember that time i fell off the social media scene?
we don't have internet at home until monday... so i have to make do with my phone and i just HATE touch screens. bleh. so if it seemed like i never answered you or cared about anything you blogged about, i promise it was because we are waiting for internet. (i am currently using the school library to write this post.)
as for the new house, it's heaven! travis and i feel like we are staying at a really nice hotel, having some kind of strange vacation. we walk around the house in awe, asking each other if this is real life. pictures to come on monday when we get our intarwebs hooked up. but the house is everything i've ever wanted. you know, within reason.
plus, we have a dishwasher. you mean you just put the dishes inside and push a button and it washes them. for you. ????
also, we bought our very first vacuum. brand new, still in the box, off KSL classifieds. 70 bucks. DAMN. you know you're getting old and boring when you're stoked on using the new vacuum.
in one month from now, i will have a bachelor's degree.
which is awesome.
as previously stated, i am not pregnant. i had a lovely full blown, although late, period. and can i just share something i love so much about travis? so i try not to take drugs for pain, because i get terrible migraines all the time and if i took drugs for pain every time i wanted them, i would probably overdose. and due to the shiny copper iud in my uterus, my periods are filled with extreme cramping. i have had doctors tell me it's fine to take 800 ibuprofens left and right, but i just don't feel super comfortable with doing that. so i use a rice bag heated to extreme temperatures to calm down the cramps. usually works like a charm. yeah, yeah, boring person information, get to the point. sweet travis takes such good care of me that week i'm on my period. if i wake up in the middle of the night in extreme pain, he heats up the rice bag, brings me a yogurt, (so i'm not popping pills on an empty stomach) and encourages me to take a pill. (there are perks to being married to a paramedic fireman; he basically does that for his job.) even if he's just settled into bed and i start to get up to heat that rice bag, he always jumps up to do it for me. he also encourages me to eat junk food, takes me for fro yo, and brings me chocolates. and he never mocks me for my granny panties i wear that week. seriously, true love guys.
welp, this was a short, mostly boring post. time to get back to doing homework. i just took a major test and i have a paper to write and a quiz to take. oh crap, and another paper to write. so over this whole "college thing."
rigor mortis senioritis sets in. and if you're not a fan of The Who's john entwistle, that joke's not going to be funny at all.
