fitforafemme.com

CONFESSION: I love this blouse for so many reasons.

• I got it for, like, $3 at the thrift store
• The awesome pattern on the back
• The tiny, tiny, too many buttons in front
• Pintucks!

The serious little jacket was also a thrift store find on the cheap, hurrah. Also, I feel weird calling this a jacket, because HI it barely has sleeves, but all my research (OK, five minutes on bluefly.com) says it’s a jacket, but I maintain that it’s WEIRD. Today is a kind of sad and disappointing day, but I recommend taking heart in the data documented in this chart or by heading over to my new blog-friend’s blog, Can I Help You, Sir?, for an interesting discussion on femme invisibility.

Want sniffs? Keep scrolling down for another batch of the unending insipid Victoria’s Secret perfume reviews!

SCENTS: With what seems to be the most complex arrangement of notes from Victoria’s Secret thus far, Pink is still a disappointment. You’re shocked, I know. With bergamot, artemesia and violet leaves listed as top notes, and base notes of vetiver and musk, you’d think it’d be kind of lovely. Truth: It’s very pedestrian and I’m getting a lot of the mandarin top note upon first application. It dries down to a tepid, less obnoxious version of itself, but it still pretty skanky, insecure cheerleader.

Dream Angels Desire, you at least smell like your bottle looks. Soft, violet blue and almost stately. There’s something respectable about this one, probably in the austere top notes: white star magnolia, living white freesia, ivy leaves. It’s almost too bad everything lovely about it all but disappears on the drydown, the rest just kind of hovers like a powdery ghost. I bet VS wishes Serena’s mom wore this (from Gossip Girl, guys, come on, get on board). I will set this one aside just in case it has a rival in the rest of the yet-t0-be reviewed bunch, so they can FACE-OFF when this miserable experiment is over and done with.

PS. A treat, if you’d like one:

CONFESSION: My blog, my soapbox! As some of you may know, today is the National Equality March in Washington, DC. M & I intended to head out there and participate, as well as celebrate a traditional Canadian Thanksgiving with the lovely and talented Trixie From Toronto, but life got in the way (as life is wont to do). Still, a small-yet-fierce contingency of our friends are marching proudly today, and we’re there in spirit. Some of you may also have watched or listened to our President’s speech at the HRC dinner last night, in which he promised to sign the federal hate crimes legislation this week, to end Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and he urged Congress to repeal DOMA, etc. You can watch it online just about anywhere, but here’s the first of two parts:

A friend asked if I thought it was as amazing as she’d heard it was. I said that sure, in some ways it was, with reservations. You can only hear so many wonderfully supportive things so many times before you begin to listen with a cautious ear, and looking for tangible follow-through.

One thing that got under my skin more than I expected was the language around “impatience” – can’t exactly recall whether it was Obama’s or HRC’s or both – which, to me, suggests a sort of unsubstantiated, negative outcry for equality, rather than honoring and acknowledging the untold numbers of LGBT folks that this is all much too late for, you know? That any future action taken, however positive or revolutionary or history-making, can’t give them those minutes, days or years of their lives back, no matter what. That bothers me a lot. The lack of respect for that fact.

I want to know that our President knows he hasn’t got a carte blanche to tell us to be patient indefinitely. We want quantifiable, measurable progress and / or some sort of timeline, which isn’t unreasonable. Intent, intent, intent with little or no follow-through and this ridiculous hemming and hawing is exactly what he pledged to radically change in his inaugural speech, so specifics would be nice.

Also, I’d love to watch an old Clinton speech of comparable import and see how they differ or not.

Here’s a pretty good, albeit quite heated, post-speech breakdown of why I’m not jumping up and down:

PS. M, for the record, said that his speech “felt like a handjob.” Harsh, but maybe also kind of true.

PPS. Just got a text message from my friends in DC. It says, “ZOMG! LADY GAGA!” Ha!

CONFESSION: Hurrah, hurrah for holiday weekends! Guess what?! WE ARE GOING TO DO SWEET AND BLISSFUL ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! Having been going relatively non-stop since we moved in, I cannot even begin to express how delighted I am that we’re going to lounge about in our pajamas well after noon, take long, shuffling strolls through the park like old people, giggle through messy, langorous brunches and dig our hands deep into the dirt of our wee urban garden. It’s going to be wonderful. We’re starting by heading to one of our favorite places in the Mission for lunch, The Liberties, because their happy hour is to die for and they are friendly.

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CONFESSION I: Let’s start with this bit for a change! For weeks, I’ve been threatening to make some homemade simple syrup in delicious flavors using fresh produce. On Monday night, M & I took one of our lovely, meandering evening walks into the Mission to Mission Pie and a Mexican market and bakery for some goodies. We got peaches, nectarines, plums, strawberries, mangoes, oranges, lemons and limes. Because I found a set of three of these darling baby pitchers at the Community Thrift Store, I decided on the following three types of simple syrup: Peach, Strawberry and Citrus (made from the zest of lemons, oranges and limes). So far, I’ve just tackled the peach, but it’s delicious! We had sparkling strawberry lemonade cocktails last night, so I’ll do strawberry next, then citrus! It’s very exciting.

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CONFESSION: Oh, oh, oh. Where to begin? We’ve moved, the dust settles slowly but surely, work is thrilling but overwhelming at times, the tomboy is happy, the petite is happy, the pups are happy. I am happy! The sunroom has turned into storage and an awesome little puppy pen but I have designs on it for more. The built-ins hold all of the books (we purged 2/3 of them, after all), so the big handsome black bookcase has become The Beast Redux. We also somehow found me a matching shabby chic dresser and vanity and I’ll post pics once the bedroom no longer looks like perhaps a small Canadian band just moved in or something. We also found the creepiest, most fantastic black birdcage lamp, a mug tree, old-fashioned hand mixer and the best, best, best part about ALL OF IT? Under $80. All of it, y’all, including the dresser and vanity, which are in pristine condition.

There has got to be some way for me to make a living doing this.

In the meantime, M & I are thoroughly enjoying her much shortened commute and talking walks to explore our fantastic neighborhood(s). Just yesterday I bought freshly made ravioli and mushroom marinara from Lucca’s, down the street. We’ve yet to decide which of the 84,000 Mexican markets we like best. We’ve had excellent tapas, pizza, Chinese. There are two places to let the dogs romp around in within walking distance. We’re totally getting fucking mopeds. The birds sing, butterflies literally fly all around me whenever I’m in the park and everywhere I look I’m inspired to grow flowers and things. There are a few other little girls who play out on our block. It’s brilliant, every last bit of it. Life is very good indeed in FFAF-land!

CONFESSION: In between all of the packing and the lease signing and the mostly distracted working and pre-Pride preparations, it’s my sweet, handsome loverbird’s birthday! She waited anxiously until midnight on Thursday to tear open her presents and began utilizing them immediately. This morning we slept in and I made chilaquiles con queso fresco for breakfast, and we just relaxed and drank cava cocktails garnished with fresh hibiscus blooms all day long. Earlier this evening, we headed downstairs to throw a tri-tip on the grill with some organic white corn and I made a batch of seasoned steak fries, but we detoured to our building’s lobby to kill some time because they were having a tenant appreciation wine and cheese reception! We grabbed some chardonnay and pretty nibbles and chatted and of course we lost track of time so the tri-tip burned. Hilarious. It was still delicious! Dessert? Sweet peach pie and black tie cupcakes. (Who says you have to choose teams, hm?)

Lucky for all y’all, M’s gift is one that can be shared! I got her the new Flip digital camcorder she’s been lusting after, and she made this little movie in practically no time at all:

PS. Little red flower clip from etsy.com!