martinimade

Because I'm still intrigued by the idea of Stitch Fix,* even if my results haven't been 100 percent stellar yet, I signed up for another box o' clothes. 

There was one top that was a "no" from the moment I put it on. 

Which made me sort of sad because it was a top I'd seen on someone else's Stitch Fix Pinterest Board and requested. It's a great top for someone who is not built like me. 

This top was almost perfect for someone built like me -- but I'd have to go up a size to really make it work with my boobs. It went back.

These are the two pieces I kept, even though this isn't the best photo. The sweater is the perfect weight for flinging over more summer-y tops and dresses that I wear to work because my office is always 90 degrees but the outside world is still not-quite-spring. The sweater drapes well and is like a grown-up blankie -- but silkier.**

I also kept this sleeveless top because I have decided that this is the summer I start wearing sleeveless tops, dammit. They look so good on everyone else that I will ignore my Arm Issues*** and get my guns out. We'll see how long this lasts.

And, now, the dress of great controversy:

Cute, right? I almost committed to it but could envision absolutely nowhere I'd wear it, save to an '80s theme night. And if I were to wear it there, I'd definitely need a more supportive bra. The Husband mentioned that my opinion might be skewed by my corgi socks, which we're doing the look any favors:

Still, I was on the fence about keeping it. Really. Didn't pull the trigger, though, and back to Stitch Fix it went. 

Two for 5 isn't bad. Can't wait to see what turns up in two more months.

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* Short explanation: After you fill out a questionnaire, you pay Stitch Fix $20 to pull four or five garments that might work for you. Keep what works (and pay for them, natch) and send back the rest. The $20 gets credited to your purchase. If you want more info, click on this link. 

** Note: it's not silk, unless silk is now made entirely through industrial processes. But it feels silky, which is what counts.

*** Don't get me started.

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective days mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch - either in illustration or word form - and the other would make a companion sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise might make both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

The Lothario of Smith Street does not know when to say when. His will to woo is boundless; his energy bottomless. He will never stop banging his bongos if there is the merest hint that you may be swayed by his ardor. The Lothario of Smith Street wants you to know that, always.

Lisa and Adrienne, however, do know when to say when. For now, we shall say adieu to this weird little world we've created. In our absence, maybe this rich broth of random material will develop single-celled creatures that burble out into the universe. Unless it doesn't. But one lives in hope.

Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.

*Athleisure?

* We're not already regulating this?

* It's really the last paragraph that tied it all together for me. Still, food for thought. No pun intended.

* Theater Producer (and SUNY Oneonta grad) Hal Luftig on the importance of communication and connection when it comes to any pursuit, on the stage or off of it. Also: his idea about coupon books for designers is genius. (Also: he was just nominated for a TONY!)

* Nope.

* In my next life, I want to be an archivist.

* Number 4. And a Number 4 I want a print of.

* Proof that it is possible for mosquitos to love me more than anyone else I'm near.

* I might need this book. And to see this documentary.

* Related: Madness in History and Spalding Gray.

* Oh, Knoxville.

* Minnesotans foil science.

Every year at about this time, I run the Fly Creek Cider Mill 10K. The prize at the end, as you might have guess, is (sweet or hard) cider.*

It's a wee local race with maybe 150 runners in all. The starting line is a mailbox and a crack in the asphalt. Nope. I'm not kidding. 

This year, like every other year, the day dawned cold. It was 27 when I left the house.

Dubios Martini is dubious. At least it wasn't raining this year. Small mercies.

The runners in these parts are scary, by the way.

Or just very, very cold.

The course goes up and up and up and never really does feel like it comes back down. You're out into the countryside pretty quickly. You pass cows and plenty of scenic vistas. Water stops are in front yards. It's that kind of race. 

I ran with a guy in his 60s who started running three years ago because his doctor told him he'd be dead soon if he didn't lose some weight. He'd just finished a half marathon in March in Ft. Lauderdale. We were joined by a college student whose family was one of the sponsors and got her a free bib. She intended to sign up for the 5K but one of her siblings signed her up for the 10 instead because, well, siblings are like that. 

According to the training plan, I was to do a warm up mile before the race and one cool down mile after. The one before was great. The one after didn't happen because I was full of cider and needed to get home before the Husband needed to leave for a show. So it goes.

According to the online results, anyone who finished after 1:11:00 didn't actually finish, which is irritating, but it's a small race that I'm surprised even has a timing system. If I read Herr Garmin correctly, I crossed the line at 1:15. Given the hills and all of  my training and travel, I'm happy. 

In less than a week, I'll be running Pittsburgh. I have started making a list of gear to pack. It's progress.

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* Given that it is a morning race and I have to drive myself home after, I go sweet. And there's a naughty pun in here somewhere that I leave as an exercise for the reader.

“Writing is a kind of revenge against circumstance too: bad luck, loss, pain. If you make something out of it, then you’ve no longer been bested by these events.”

-- Louise Gluck from Wednesday's The Writer's Almanac.

In related news: this week's Martini Friday is live!

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective days mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch - either in illustration or word form - and the other would make a companion sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise might make both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

Dear Lisa, 

While you have accurately conveyed what it is like to sleep in the same bed as our cat McGregor, you did leave out one of his favorite slumber poses. On really cold nights, he clamps himself on to the back of my skull like the face-hugging tentacled beast from Aliens. And I wonder why I wake up feeling so drained.
Sleepily yours,
- A

Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.

* Which Spice Girl are you?

* I'm hoping someone records or simulcasts this.

* Fences make good neighbors.

* Not empty, just "under-dense."

* "An article in The Times in 1891 described Kneipp as “excessively prudent,” which might be the world’s most polite euphemism for “German.”"

* On Don Lemon.

I had grand plans for the (almost) week I was in Little Rock. I would blog every day and tweet and facebook my heart out. And, um, yeah. Sorry about that.

I'm back -- but re-entry is rocky. Not because anything strange has happened but because I haven't gotten all that much sleep and my brain is about as sharp as a sponge. I'll be back when normality is restored. 

Which needs to be pretty freaking soon because I'll be reading tomorrow night at CANO in Oneonta. Please come, if you can! If not for me, then for the refreshments ....

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective days mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch - either in illustration or word form - and the other would make a companion sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise might make both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

Nita knows Election Season is just around the corner. Just today, three unrelated people — two men and one woman, if you care — came in asking for “Presidential Hair,” whatever the heck that means. But Nita aims to find a wig for every head, even the “presidential” ones, and spent tall of her working hours pulling the short-and-serious wigs off the shelves. No baldies, of course. No Farrah flips. Certainly no mullets. Apparently, the right hairdo is crucial for elected office these days. Or, if you don’t have the right hair already in place, a willingness to fake it.

Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.

* If you like Up With Figs (and who doesn't?), Lisa has a new book out. A squirrel is involved.

* For the Type Nerds, a group I happily belong to.

* Further proof that runners are all one bubble out of plumb, bless 'em.

* Related: how to make the time to run, like you keep insisting you are going to do.

* Every single high school student should be given one of these.

* Sarah Hepola on Louis C.K. (only it's not really about Louis C.K. (note: Sarah and I casually knew each other back in the day.))

* Tickle was my first deodorant. Because old.

* I'm shocked. Shocked. (Note: not shocked.)

* #3. 

* The economics of dog breeds. 

* I want to go there.

* We don't know what we don't know: potato edition.

* YOU MAY NOT INSULT MY SUE!

* SCIENCE!