Operation Pink Herring

A midsummer night's breakdown

If it's not too late to post about the weekend, perhaps you'd like to know that mine was fabulous.   We drove to New Jersey to celebrate my mom's birthday (which is actually in February, but that's how we roll in in my family), and spent Saturday hiking in New Paltz, NY.  When I remarked, after seeing a bride being photographed in the formal gardens at Lake Mohonk, that this would be a beautiful place to get married, my mom's jaw hit the floor.  "What! Don't you remember, the last time we were here, I said this would be a great place to get married, and you said 'Sure, maybe if you're old"", she asked. 

Um, no I did not remember saying that at all.  And I take it back, the place is lovely.

Throughout the day we had several more exchanges in which my mom recalled how scared I was of a cliff, how I cried on a hike (more cliffs), how I generally just had a terrible time.  Still, no recollection from me.  I was a bit unsettled that I could completely block out an entire experience like that, but I chalked it up to the fact that I must have been really, really terrified of all those cliffs.  (My fear of heights (without a railing; if there's some sort of protective rail, they don't bother me) is eclipsed only by my fear of constrictor-type snakes.)  (The fact that all my irrational fears have specific criteria is a topic we'll have to discuss another day). 

Finally, after about the fifth time that my mom asked if I really, seriously did not remember saying what a horrible old person place this mountain paradise was, I thought to ask when exactly this alleged previous visit took place.  Turns out it was when I was somewhere between the ages of twelve and fifteen. 

I'd like to make a rule right now: all snotty statements about old people places and horrible times should have an expiration date, after which no one can hold them against you.  Five years, perhaps?  Ten years?  Maybe we could say that upon graduation from high school, all previous bratty behavior is expunged from our records, and the same thing would go for college graduation and other milestone achievements.  Any of you lawyer-types out there, feel free to get started drafting up some legislation to that effect.

I feel much better knowing that my memory hasn't been completely erased by all those alien abductions -- I just, understandably, don't have crystal-clearn memories of every single hike and every remark about old people places that I made fifteen years ago.  And besides, by the standards of my twelve year old self, I AM old.  Don't mind if I do add yet another venue to the ever-growing list of  Places We Should Get Married.  

So, throw in some torrential downpours on the ride home and some great BBQ, and that was my weekend.  How was yours?  OK, great, now that I've politely pretended to be interested, I can move on to The Complaining.

Internet, this past weekend marked the beginning of my summer marathon of being out of town.  This coming weekend we have Bridal Shower/Bachelorette Party #1 in New Jersey.  After that, I'll be spending the 4th of July in State College, PA visiting some college friends.  The weekend after that, we leave for a week-long trip to Vermont to visit Joel's family.  When we return from that, I'll be driving straight up to NJ for Bridal Shower/Bachelorette Party #2.   The weekend after that, I'll be helping Sister-Wife Jenny move from Williamsburg to Richmond.  For those of you keeping track, that's six consecutive weekends that will not be spent on my couch at home.

True, most of these out of town activities are for fun.  But, still.  I'm the type of girl who needs enough quality time with my Tivo and a good half-day each week spend organizing and compulsively cleaning the house to feel balanced.  When are we going to look at the remaining wedding venues on our list?  When am I going to do laundry? Go grocery shopping?  More importantly, when am I am going to watch that new ABC Family show with Molly Ringwald and lie in my new magical bed?

I am really, really going to try not to let all of this stuff stress me out, and to remember that most of this IS FOR FUN.  SO IT SHOULD ACTUALLY BE ENJOYED AT THE TIME.  But honestly, I'm not sure I can make any promises that I won't be curled up in a corner sucking my thumb when August rolls around. 

Rat-a-tat-toille

I've recently started watching Ace of Cakes, and I love everything about the show.  I love Duff, I love everyone on his staff, and I love every shot of the outside of their studio because OMG I KNOW WHERE THAT IS!  Most of all, I love their cakes.  Dude, these guys are amazing.  Do you watch the show?  Even if you're not into cooking, you can appreciate how awesome these guys are at their jobs... and some of the cake requests they get are hilarious.

One of my personal favorites was the rat cake they did for a local wedding, and I have been wondering if viewers not intimately acquainted with Baltimore truly appreciated how fitting that cake was.   I am sure that every large city has its fair share of rodents, but in Charm City... well, you just have to live here to understand.  It's not just that the rats here are common (which they are), or that they're extremely large (also true) -- it's more their audacity.  Baltimore rats aren't menacing, but they're also not afraid to show themselves.  They'll saunter right out in the middle of your path, look you in the eye, and then continue on their way, unconcerned by your human presence.  I remember one time in college, I was walking home from the library when a rat scurried across my path.  I jumped, startled, and then continued walking.  The rat continued scurrying right along side me.  FOR TWO WHOLE BLOCKS.  I remember calling my housemate, Liz, and leaving her a panicked voicemail that there was a huge rat following me, and that if I didn't make it home she should look for my body somewhere along Calvert Street.  And bring a baseball bat.   And maybe a stun gun.

On Tuesday night Joel and I were watching TV downstairs, enjoying the cool weather with the windows open.  Of course, this means that we can hear everything going on out on the sidewalk, including a group of people exclaiming over something they'd apparently run over.  "It's so huge!", they exclaimed, "I don't think I've ever seen one that big!"  We wondered what they were talking about, and I crossed my fingers that it wasn't Mr. or Mrs. Duck. 

The next day, Joel asked if I'd seen the rat when I left for work.  I hadn't.  "It's huge," he told me.  "Those people weren't kidding.  I saw it." 

When I got home he showed it to me, and I immediately got out the camera.  Of course I did.  People, this rat is material for the Guinness Book of World Records.  It was simply too big not to photograph. 

(If you are afraid of rats, I strongly encourage you to NOT look at the picture below)

(In fact, even if you aren't afraid of rats, you might not want to look if you are eating breakfast.  Or lunch.  Or if you just don't like pictures of dead rodents.)

I didn't really feel that Joel's foot provided an accurate frame of reference. So, I recruited Madison for the job.

 

(Do you like how Madison is less interested in the giant dead rodent at his feet, and more entranced by the sweet, sweet freedom all around him?)

Madison is an average sized, approximately 10-lb cat.  I am pretty sure this rat is the biggest one ever. 

You're all very welcome.  You may now carry on with your day.

Venue searching, new beds and assorted other goodness

Although we've still not set a date yet (SO STOP ASKING EVERY DAY, FRONT DESK LADY, SHEESH!), my thoughts have been preoccupied lately with all things wedding.   Every morning when I look in the mirror, I contemplate whether my hair has grown any longer, whether I should get a trim this week or push it off a little longer, whether I should go for a casual, flowy down-do for The Big Day or perhaps a simple, low bun instead?   I wonder whether I should look for a makeup artist and risk having a panic attack when she tries to put foundation on my face, or if I should just go to the Clinique counter a few weeks before, stock up on some new mascara and lip gloss and call it a day.  Ooh, maybe I should ask Sister-Wife Jenny to do my wedding makeup!  She's good at makeup, and she won't try to sneakily put foundation on me.  That's a great idea!

And this is all before I've finished brushing my teeth in the morning.

I've also been suffering a compulsion to buy things, especially things that are on sale, "for the wedding".  Like that three-strand pearl necklace I saw in the Macy's One Day Sale circular, marked down from $400 to $99: I was thiscloseto buying it.   What if I never see such a great deal again?   What if I can't find this exact necklace next month?  And wouldn't it be nice to have another thing checked off the list, one less item to worry about down the line?   I tell you, I almost had myself talked into that necklace.  And the matching earrings.  And a pair of shoes I saw on Piperlime.  All these things, for a wedding whose date has not even been set yet.  Is this what "nesting" is like?  Because I think maybe I should have bought that necklace.  Damnit.

Although we still haven't set a date, we have been making excellent progress in Operation Wedding.  Over the past few weekends, Joel and I have visited no less than eleven potential weddings venues.  I have almost finished entering these all into an exel spreadsheet that tracks the date we visited, their prices on everything from ceremony fee to chivari chair rentals, the cost difference between Saturday and Sunday, and everything in between.  So far, we have four real contenders.  And a dozen more places to look at.  (What can I say, I like to be thorough!)   While time consuming, I'm really quite enjoying the great venue search.  I didn't think that driving around all around Maryland every Saturday would be enjoyable at all. In fact, I kind of thought it was going to suck.   But it doesn't suck!  It's actually been a fun way to spend time together.  The set appointments force us out of bed at a reasonable hour, and with coffee in hand, we set of to conquer another corner of the state.  Driving through the beautiful scenery in Western Maryland on Saturday was downright idyllic.   I can't wait to see which place we end up going with.

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After spending Saturday looking at four different venues, the only task I wanted to get accomplished on Sunday was getting the new bed upstairs, by hook or by crook.  Joel and I managed to get the boxspring upstairs by ourselves on Thursday, which involved some tricky engineering and a bit of walking on our neighbor's roof, but I had this sinking feeling that the extra-thick, extra-foamy mattress was just not going to make it up the stairs.  I'm a worrier, that's what I do -- and let me tell you, I was worrying plenty when three kids from Joel's team arrived on Sunday to help move it.  Luckily, we needed neither hooks nor crooks, and it only took the four of them less than 20 minutes to get the entire job done.  One of them actually said "That's it?", when I showed them the mattress.  "Dude, when people say they need help moving furniture, they usually mean, like, the whole house," he explained.  God, I love the college mentality. 

You know what else I love?  Our new mattress.

And as you can see, I'm not the only one enjoying all the magical little Swiss masseurs.   Madison plopped himself in the middle of it within minutes after it was set down, and I thought he was going to die a happy cat right then and there. 

I've slept very well both nights so far, and I haven't even been doing what Joel calls my Alligator Death Roll during the night -- turning over and over until I have managed to wrap all the sheets and blankets around myself.  I consider that a very auspicious start.  With all the money I'll be saving on Tylenol PM and coffee, this mattress is practically going to pay for itself... after about 35 years.   But you know what, you can't put a price on a good night's rest.  That's what Madison says, at least.

Thanks to the wonder of Craigslist, our old bed was sold and gone by Sunday evening.  During the 48 hours it was listed, twelve people responded to my ad.  When I informed interested parties that it had already been promised to a buyer, two people tried to offer me more than the asking price, and another wanted to come over right then to whisk the bed away first.  I turned them both down, of course, but I still made out with $40 for a 5+-year-old mattress and a slightly warped wooden frame (which was fully disclaimed in the ad).  The best part is, I only paid $20 for the set five years ago.  I think I've stumbled upon my life's calling: stalking craigslist (already do that), snapping up underpriced items, and selling them for a profit.  All I need is a partner who has someplace to store all my finds.  Any applicants?

Max was the only one sad to see the old mattress go.  I came downstairs on Sunday afternoon, after we'd carefully laid it across the couch, to find him sleeping right in the middle of it.  When the buyer came to pick it up, I swear I saw Max shed a single tear.  I promised him that the mattress went a good home, where it would receive lots of attention and plenty of Fancy Feast, but he still wouldn't speak to me the rest of the evening.

 

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An adorable duck couple was hanging around on our block yesterday.  I saw the male sitting on the sidewalk in the morning when I left for work, and I thought he must have been sick.  I mean, ducks don't hang out on city sidewalks, right?  There are plenty of ducks in the harbor and plenty more in the nearby park, but I've never seen any just wandering around the 'hood.  I thought this poor dude would surely fall victim to the stray cats that prowl our block, but when I arrived home that night he'd been joined by his wife and they were marching around together, quietly quacking to themselves.  I found it so adorable that I grabbed the camera and took a few pictures of them.  I wasn't the only one interested in them; the orange cat that lives a few houses down looked like he would have killed to be able to jump through that screen. 

>

I assume that the Mr. and Mrs. Duck were visiting because one of the crazy ladies on our block (the owner of Orange Cat) likes to feed the pigeons, and our sidewalk is constantly littered with birdseed (and pigeon crap, but we won't get into that).  I didn't see them this morning, so I'm telling myself that they were just out on a daytrip and they've now safely returned to the park or the harbor or wherever they came from.  They were NOT hit by a car or eaten by a stray cat, so don't you even THINK that.  No, I can't keep them as pets, and, yes, that makes me sad. 

Baby, we got it

All the pretty things I WANTED:

(1. Scooter, 2. Kitchen table, 3. Kitchen cabinetry, 4. Crown molding, 5. New front door, 6. New non-back-breaking bed, 7. Fancy camera, 8. A pretty wedding)

Aaaaand...what we GOT:

(1. New bed, Sick Cat #1, Sick Cat #2)

First of all, I'd like you all to say hello to the new love of my life, our ridiculously expensive (even though we got it for half price on Craigslist) Tempurpedic bed.   I am in love with this bed already.  I want to call in sick for an entire week so I can do nothing but lie on it all day long while the million tiny little swiss citizens inside it massage my back. 

The only problem with that plan is that it's still propped up against the couch in our first-floor living room, as we need about four people with superhuman strength to come and carry it up two very narrow flights of stairs for us.   Ability to bend the laws of physical space would be a plus, as we thinkit's going to bend up around the corners, but we can't be sure.  It's a whole lot thicker than our other mattress.  You know, because of the millions of tiny little swiss masseurs inside it.  If it turns out to not bend around the corners, would anyone be willing to lend us their helicopter for the weekend so we can airlift this thing into the third-floor bedroom?

And in cat news, Maxwell isn't doing so, um, well.  We begin kitty chemo this week.  Don't worry, it's not as bad as it sounds.  He just gets one extra pill every other day, his hair won't even fall out or anything.  Kitty chemo is just aimed at relieving pain and slowing down cancer growth, so it's only about 1/10 as aggressive as human chemo. 

Sadly, Madison, never one to be left out, appears to have kitty cancer as well.   It wasn't nothing, after all.  I'm still hoping it's actually his thyroid (which could be fixed), but something is definitely wrong with him.  I'm really, really sad, of course, but I'm taking this all pretty well (if I do say so myself).  Maybe it's because I'm in denial; both Max and Mads are still acting like their normal, happy selves... knocking over unattended glasses of water, licking Joel's morning cereal bowl when he's not looking and staring menacingly at the stray cats outside the window.   Or maybe it's the millions of tiny Swiss citizens in my living room.   Either way, things are good at the moment, and I'm just sitting here, trying to move that mattress up two stories with the power of my mind, and simultaneously hoping like heck that the thirteen bucks a month I've been paying for Madison's fancy health insurance isn't going to call whatever he has a pre-existing condition.

WANT

I feel like I say this all the time, but I really need to win the lottery.   Lately, I have been making a mental list of all the things I WANWANTWANT, and the reality is that we just can’t afford all of them.  Or maybe even any of them. 

We’ve been toying with the idea of putting in some new cabinetry in the kitchen for a while, and it just seems like this would be a perfect time to do it.  Next summer, if all goes to plan, we’ll be in full wedding-planning-OMG mode, and I’m thinking that probably won’t be the best time to be taking on any major home improvement projects.  Also, if the current plants don’t change, next summer will be the first time Joel’s family sees our house.  So, naturally, I want it to look ass-kickingly awesome.   Plus, new cabinetry will certainly help our resale value.  Our kitchen isn’t tiny, but it’s not big either, and it could really (REALLY) use some extra storage space.  Currently, we are using a white Ikea bookshelf that belonged to my freshman year roommate to house our cereals and other boxed goods, and that poor bookshelf is approximately 468 years old in Ikea-years.   Also?  It’s ugly.  So, if we’re using the logic that the new cabinets will increase the resale value, why shouldn’t we just go ahead and install them now, so that we can enjoy them for a bit first?  Right?  Yeah, that’s what I think, too. 

I am also dreaming that this new cabinetry will free up enough floor space for a small (very small) kitchen table.  Like this one, perhaps?

Why, hello lover.

And while we’re on the topic of home improvements, I also want to put up crown molding throughout the house.  The imperfect paint jobs (which I did myself, but it’s really the house’s fault for being so damn old and historic and UNEVEN) are driving me crazy, and I think some nice, simple molding would go a long way in improving the house’s overall appearance.  Again, why should we race around trying to raise the resale value when we’re ready to sell, when instead we could have it installed now and enjoy it for a few years?

While we’re at it, we also need to have our front door frame (which is an energy conservation nightmare) replaced, get the upstairs tub re-grouted, and find someone to fix the kitchen window that is constantly fogged up inside.

I’m also dreaming about getting a new bed (no pun intended).  Our current bed is another item of Swedish design (not that there’s anything wrong with that!  I loves you, Ikea!), and it makes me want to cry.  We purchased the mattress secondhand five years ago, which means that it’s served at least a seven-year tour of duty.  While that may be completely reasonable for some mattresses, this one has GOT to go.  I wake up every morning feeling like I’ve been run over by a truck, sore and stiff all over.  I’ve been considering just buying a nice pillowtop thingie, but really, this mattress is a piece of junk. An uncomfortable, kinda small piece of junk

Instead, I’d like this one.

And you know what else I want?  A scooter.

I have truly come to hate driving in the city (PARKING PARKING ARGH *SMACKS HEAD AGAINST BRICK WALL*), and I just think I cute little scooter would be a great, fuel-efficient way to get around.  I can just picture myself zipping to the Farmer’s Market on Saturday morning, or riding it to work on mega-hot days, or making an evening run to the grocery store without having to go through the soul-killing experience of searching for a quasi-legal parking spot when I returned.  I’d just park my scooter right in our very own alley!  As soon as our new neighbor figures out that our shared alley does not equal her own private dog run and stops propping a hunk of plywood in front of the gate, I guess.  Details, details.

Also, I want a new camera.  A nice, expensive one.  Mmm, I can almost taste all those deliciously blurry backgrounds. 

The sad reality is that (in case I haven’t mentioned this enough lately) we’re trying to save for a wedding, and as it turns out, weddings are expensive.  Even cheap weddings are expensive.  I think my scooter and my fancy camera and my cute little kitchen table will just have to wait, unless Santa is looking for something to keep him busy during the summer months.  We’ve got a chimney and everything, St. Nick!   And I will even put out cookies!

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In completely unrelated news, we watched the Tivo-ed MTV movie awards last night and I almost died laughing during the Ben Stiller/Robert Downey Jr/Jack Black viral video skit.  If you missed it, do yourself a favor and watch it here. 

I made you a cookie. But I eated it.

In honor of my dear internet friend, Lindsey's, upcoming nuptuals, I thought I'd share with you all my most recent adventures in domesticity.  I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but I have the honored position of Bridesmaid Extraoridnaire for not one, but TWO, friends who are getting married this year.  Both of their showers are coming up (like, SOON), and for shower #1, I'm a co-host.  My co-hosting duties involve cooking for a fancy-pants shower.

(GULP.)

I am determined to wow everyone at this fancy-pants shower with my three delicious side dishes.  It's not going to be at all like last month, when I showed up to the joint Mother's Day/Future SIL's birthday BBQ with the cookies I'd promised to bake for the occasion.  I was psyched about these cookies, let me tell you.  I sorted out green (my mom's favorite color) M&Ms for my mother's day batch and kept them in a bowl right next to the blue and brown (Future SIL's possible wedding colors) M&M's I'd sorted out for the birthday cookies.  Cute idea, right?  I sure thought so.  

I carefully measured all the ingredients, and put them in little containers next to the sorted M&Ms, I even remembered to take the butter out of the fridge to soften!  I did everything right.  And yet, the cookies turned out like cow patties.  Melted, crumbly cow patties. I guess I should have just stuck to the boring old chocolate chips that the recipe called for. 

(But all those leftover M&Ms sure were delicious.)

So, yeah.  This shower is going to be NOTHING LIKE THAT.  You see, I've gone and recruited myself a coach.  And like any good student, I've been practicing.  

The first recipe my coach suggested was this Spinach and Artichoke Salad from the Food Network.  I printed it out dutifully and made it that weekend.  I learned quite a bit.  For instance, did you know that you can buy roasted red peppers in a jar?  And sun-dried tomatoes?  And baby artichoke hearts?  I did not know these things.  But now I do!  This is what I like to call progress.

Also, did you know that Rachel Ray is a damned dirty liar? 

EIGHT MINUTES, MY ASS.  It took me more than eight minutes just to peel and chop the garlic.  (Of course, it turned out that it took so long partially because I didn't realize there was a difference between a head and a clove of garlic.  But, whatever.  There is no such thing as too much garlic.)

Also, note to other aspiring chefs with no natural cooking instincts:  When a recipe calls for fresh thyme, you're supposed to pick the leaves off of the stem.  Ahhhhh.  That makes sense.  Oops!

The first batch still came out surprisingly well, despite the thyme stems and the entire head of garlic.  It was a little spicy, sure.  But still, very good.  And I learned several things. Like, when it says you can use dried thyme?  Use the dried thyme.  Don't get fancy.  Also, when Rachel Ray says a recipe should take 15 minutes from start to finish, you'd better go ahead and budget an hour.

I made this recipe a second time when Jenny came over a few weeks ago, and I got the amount of garlic right AND I picked the thyme leaves off of the stem before tossing them in.  I forgot to buy the artichoke hearts.  And the red peppers.  But still!  It was very good.  Lessons learned from trial numero dos: make a damned shopping list, woman.

Next, I plan to perfect RA's Pasta Primavera Salad.  Um, before I start, can someone tell me what the difference between a coarse julienne and a fine julienne is?  Actually, I can figure out the difference myself if you can just tell me what the hell "julienne" means.  And also... prosciutto: it's ham, right?

So, dear Lindsey, my gift to you for this Virtual Bridal Shower is this did NOT cook you anything.  You're welcome.  

April showers bring May outfits

1. even though M:PT is over..., 2. DSCN1161, 3. Shoes, 4. RA, put together, 5. casual day outfit, 6. Random Dress1, 7. My favorite shoes, 8. dress, 9. Monday, just before I got majorly rained on, 10. M:PT - May 11, 11. M: PT (Tuesday, May 13), 12. M:PT 5.13.08, 13. what better place to take a picture than my cube?, 14. M: PT (Wednesday, May 14), 15. Wednesday outfit, 16. M:PT - May 15, 17. copying sassy laurel with the faux sweater vest, 18. M:PT - May 15 (Zeister), 19. M: PT (Tuesday, May 20), 20. M: PT (Sunday, May 18)

With the end of May this weekend came the official end to Mission: Put Together.  RA has a fabulous postup with all kind of crazy statistics.  Like, M:PT received over 34,000 page views and over 2,800 comments during the month of May.  That sort of blows my mind.  Uno, dos, tres, triente-quatro mil?  I can't count to 34,000 in spanish, but I know that's a whole lot of frackin' page views.  So I guess you guys had as much fun with this as we did, huh?

(Yeah, I said "frackin'".  Deal with it.)

(LEE ADAMA FOR PRESIDENT!)

I had so much fun with this little self-assigned Mission, and I'm just going to come out and say it: Mission: Put Together made my life better.  I loved seeing the outfits that other people put together, and knowing that I'd have the photo pool to show off my creations made me more motivated to put thought into my own wardrobe choices.  M:PT actually made getting ready for work sort of... fun. 

I loved how everyone got into it, and I loved that everyone in the pool was so nice to each other.  

I also loved how we were able to identify trends that made us feel more put together, and then I actually took some of those trends (wear red shoes to spice up a "blah" outfit, don't fear the color yellow, mixing bright colors looks great, as long as you don't overdo it) and actually used them with my existing wardrobe, and ya'll: it felt like a new outfit.   Except it was free. 

The mosaic above represents some of my favorite outfits from the month-long pool.  If you notice that most of the pictures are of Ms. NPW, that's because I think all of her outfits are absolutely adorable.  I even tried to imitate her cute t-shirt/jean jacket/corduroy skirtcombo this weekend, but I was foiled by the mega-heat (and lack of car air conditioning, don't forget that I live in the stone age and my car doesn't have AC.  Or power windows.) and had to leave my jean jacket at home. 

Overall, this whole experiment in fashion has left me amazed.  I'm blown away by how awesome ya'll look (did I just say "ya'll" twice in the same entry?  FRACK!), and by how many of you initially doubted your own fashion sense.   I was also amazed to see that people trying new things as a result of M:PT - many of you went out and bought red necklaces (myself included), some of you went out and found yellow shirts, some of you ventured into pairing orange and turquoise together, and some of you added color to your mostly-black wardrobes.  And you all looked awesome, if I do say so myself.  I was more than willing to hop on the Try Something New bandwagon.  In fact, I'm wearing red shoes with an all-gray outfit right now.

My favorite outfit of my own was my shell-turned-sweater vest.  I can absolutely say that I never would have imagined this outfit, much less actually worn it out of the house without seeing some of the sassy and put-together photos in the M:PT group, but I LOVED the way it looked.  I felt so confident that day that i dared to wear my trouser jeans to the office on a non-Casual Day.  On a Wednesday, even!  

And best of all - these were all items that I already owned.  I hadn't worn that shell in over a year, and I hardly ever find an occasion to wear that pink necklace. 

And that's what Mission: Put Together was really all about. 

RA and I had so much fun with this, and many of you have requested that we extend M:PT past May... so, the photo pool will remain open for the summer.  May it continue to make the world a better place!  I know that I personally will not be posting to it as often (it's hot, peoples.  I cannot wear matching clothes when it's this hot) (I realize that doesn't actually make any sense). We're cooking up a second full-on round of M:PT sometime in the fall, so stay tuned!  Same bat time, same bat channel.