I’m sitting waiting on my students to finish a scavenger hunt based around the idea of knowledge communities, and I can’t believe that in about a week my first quarter teaching at DU will be complete. It’s true what they say: quarters fly by. Last year at this time, I was meandering my way around my dissertation, job talks, and teaching portfolios, and now I’m another year older, living across the country in a state that favors the cold and sunshine instead of the warm and sunshine, and it all seems a little crazy. February is my birthday month, and normally when I think of goals for the year, I tend to think of them beginning and ending with February.
During the month of March, I’m asked to write-up a reflection over the past quarter and essentially look at what I learned and how I might go forward into the next quarter. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, about what I might say, and I’m struggling because there seems like so much has happened in a short ten week span that has really made me think about how I define myself as an instructor of writing. So, I’m going to really focus this blog on one thing I have really taken notice of and learned about this past quarter: boots. =)
DU is my fifth school, if I include my three schools for my three degrees, and the previous institutions where I have taught. Every school, I have noticed, has a theme that centers at the heart of the fashion worn by faculty and students alike. At Mount Union, it was hoodies boldly declaring the school’s name. At FSU, it was a whole lotta Vera Bradley bags. Here at DU, it’s boots. Given the weather, it’s not really that weird that students and faculty at DU wear boots, but what makes them unique is the ways in which they wear them, and the type of the boots they wear.
I have seen girls wear boots in shorts, dresses, skirts, jeans, leggings, and yoga pants. Yes, yoga pants. Apparently tall boots can be used to dress up yoga pants, and I say, heck yes! I’ve also noticed that many girls where sweat pants with Uggs, which is not necessarily that attractive of a combination. I have also seen at least one pair of thigh-high stilettos, although, heels are not on trend with the boots at DU. Another disturbing trend is the girls that wear tights as pants with boots—yes, tights, not leggings, as pants. The other day I was walking behind this girl in super cute tan combat boots with black tights. I don’t know what she was thinking or why her roommates let her walk out of her dorm room. Ladies a word to the wise: tights and leggings are NOT stand alone bottoms—your backside needs covered no matter how skinny you are.
Boots, no matter the weather that constantly likes to surprise Denver residents, are a staple here at DU. And of all the trends I have witnessed, it’s one of my favorites. There is comfort in pulling on your favorite worn-in pair of boots—it’s like talking to an old friend over steaming cup of coffee on a wintery morning. Boots can pull an outfit together and make you feel like taking on the world (or a room full of college freshmen!).
The past quarter has shown me new ways to incorporate boots into my wardrobe as well as showing me ways that boots should never be worn. All-in-all a pretty solid lesson to be learn. ;-)
Showing posts with label Denver. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Denver. Show all posts
Monday, March 5, 2012
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
The Girl with the Knit Toboggan
Today, as I sit sipping my Dt. Coke in front of a crackling fire, I shift through Piperlime’s “Top 11 Fall Fashion Must-Have’s” lingering on a MINKPINK red maxi skirt and wondering if I could pull off a maxi given the I’mkindashortthing. I then move to hiker booties with heels—totally cute. I’m particular fond of a Boutique 9 pair and Heart and Soul pair, though at $89, the Heart and Soul pair is the more reasonable buy. But I only linger on the different pieces of fall; I don’t linger for too long because then I would want to buy something.
“When I shop, the world gets better, and the world is better, but then it's not, and I need to do it again.” Rebecca Bloomwood
I love fashion. I love shopping. I have loved fashion and shopping since I was very young, and my mother is to blame. She introduced me to fabulous world of fashion with white and pink dresses that had matching white and pink socks, shoes, and jewelry. She also, year-after-year, pointed me in the direction of honing my own style by encouraging me to mix things up with things like thick hunter green flannels with dark bootcut denim or neon green Sketchers or Victorian-like black booties worn with jean skirts and/or black capris or sparkly lip gloss with flecks of glitter before any of these were considered “in style.” My college roommate met me for the first time wearing a belly-bearing green FUBU shirt and white shorts. Twelve years later, she still remembers that outfit. We all have our own individual style, even those who maintain they don’t. We gravitate toward the styles we like--those which make us feel alive when we wear them even if that means throwing on whatever is nearest to you when you roll out of bed. I strive for maintaining my own look whether it’s wearing five bold bangles (when two might have been just fine with the outfit) or bright blue tights with a short black dress. I’m not a crazy fashion-forward kinda girl, but I do appreciate owning my style, which someone once described as “sorta-but-not-really rocker chic.” I’ll take it.
“You’re a professor…you must make what like $80,000…a $100,00??”
I come from a family of shoppers: my dad, I believe, could shop me under the table. Seriously. I think this has helped me learn to become a killer window shopper. I can go into store after store and try on clothes just for fun. I tend to play a game: if I had XX amount of money, what would I buy and why. I also really love going with people as they shop because I like styling them. I like to believe that I have left a profound and positive styling effect on some of people that have come into my life. Take my cousin, J(G)S, who is president of Neenah Paper. She has to look professional from H2T daily, but I’ve seen little bits and pieces of glitz show up on her (i.e. leopard print flats or hot pink silk scarves). Or my good friend SG. She recently sent me a going-out picture where she was rockin’ sky-high black strappy sandals (she is over 6 foot and when I met her swore she would NEVER wear heels!). Or take my friend, LR. When I met her she was all about the basic color palette and hated shopping. At a graduation party, she rocked a beautiful print dress with gold heels (that she found herself!). And last, my mom, who was my muse and now lets me pick out her outfits. I tell her all the time I’m never going to let her go out of style…she’ll be the best dressed 90 year old. If this professor thing doesn’t work out, I’ve often thought about becoming a stylist. Just call me Rachel Zoe (only the real-life size. I could not eat for months and still not be that tiny).
I recently had a conversation with another graduate of FSU who had a similar thought as me: with her first “real” paycheck she was going to splurge and buy something like a Coach purse. Reality check came when my first “real” paycheck entered my bank account. I immediately called HR. The conversation went something like this…
“Uh, hi. I’m a recent hire at DU, and I think something is wrong with my paycheck.”
“Congrats on your recent hire!”
“Um, ok thanks.”
“So what seems to be the problem with your paycheck?”
“Well, there seems to be an awful lot missing from it.”
Chuckle (I wanted to jump through the phone and give him my best eyebrow arched, death stare). “Ok, well let’s take a look here…The federal tax is….”
And so on. The conversation concluded with me saddened by the reality that my paycheck would always be $1000 less that what I actually make given the amount of taxes and benefits taken out. No, there was nothing actually wrong with my paycheck. Someone forgot to tell me that once I ended my life after a graduate student (in the state of Florida), my paycheck would also reflect my real-life status. Not going to lie…it’s scarier than I thought. Also, please remember my dear readers (especially those of you getting ready to graduate soon), moving cleans you out. Moving across country even more. It takes a couple months to fully recover (I’m still in that phase). I didn’t give that enough credit either. So, you have to decide what’s most important to you and what’s not. Food wins out right now (although pop is #1, JT and I decided years ago when we first lived together that no matter how dire the situation, we would also have pop), which means no couch, TV, desk, cable, internet, or bed. When I tell people that most are like, how can you do it without a bed?!? Honestly, the bed doesn’t bother me as much as say a couch. You don’t think about how much you use a couch until you don’t have one. The couch is like the mecca of a home; it’s the safe haven that you can curl up on and snuggle with your dog; it’s where you can sip on some Dt. Coke while reading PeopleStyle; it’s the best place to take a power nap; it’s where the list-making happens. So, yes, not having a couch is worse than not having a bed. It’s the first thing that I’m going to buy. The very first.
Things I’ve learned or re-learned in the last two months about shopping, specifically grocery shopping:
1. Count your pennies and use them. I have no qualms about counting out pennies for groceries. JT got slightly embarrassed the last time we were grocery shopping, but the kind check-out lady was like, “honey, it all amounts to the same when I count it out at night.” Totally true.
2. Make a list to go grocery shopping and buy things that last a long time. We happen to be big cereal eaters—cereal taste good at any time of the day.
3. Treat yourself to something you truly do enjoy—this way it doesn’t feel like you totally depriving yourself. For JT and me, it’s Dt. Coke. We always, always have it.
4. Go through the grocery store and put everything in your cart. When you’re finished find an empty spot, and go through what’s in your cart deciding if you truly need it. We always find about $20-$40 worth of stuff that we don’t actually need.
5. Don’t be embarrassed about living on a strict budget. JT struggles with this more than I do. Perhaps it’s because I’m older, and I have lived longer, but I figure as long as we have something to eat for each meal (even if it’s a cup of Ramen) then we are doing better than a lot of people.
I like to think all my years of shopping and window shopping combined with coming from a line of shoppers has actually helped me live on a strict budget because I’m always looking for a good deal. I get excited when Dt. Coke goes on sale 3 for $9, or I find a good cheese for $4/lb.
I must confess: when my first paycheck was securely in my bank account, I went to Urban Outfitters and bought myself a present. I decided that since it was my first real paycheck in my first real professor job that I could splurge ever so slightly. I bought myself this super cute knit toboggan (that’s a hat for those you not from the north) that I had been eyeing since I moved to Denver (so five weeks). It was $26 and some change. It’s no Coach purse, but buying it made me feel giddy and when I put it on, I know that it was my first purchase as a professor. I kinda like that.
“When I shop, the world gets better, and the world is better, but then it's not, and I need to do it again.” Rebecca Bloomwood
I love fashion. I love shopping. I have loved fashion and shopping since I was very young, and my mother is to blame. She introduced me to fabulous world of fashion with white and pink dresses that had matching white and pink socks, shoes, and jewelry. She also, year-after-year, pointed me in the direction of honing my own style by encouraging me to mix things up with things like thick hunter green flannels with dark bootcut denim or neon green Sketchers or Victorian-like black booties worn with jean skirts and/or black capris or sparkly lip gloss with flecks of glitter before any of these were considered “in style.” My college roommate met me for the first time wearing a belly-bearing green FUBU shirt and white shorts. Twelve years later, she still remembers that outfit. We all have our own individual style, even those who maintain they don’t. We gravitate toward the styles we like--those which make us feel alive when we wear them even if that means throwing on whatever is nearest to you when you roll out of bed. I strive for maintaining my own look whether it’s wearing five bold bangles (when two might have been just fine with the outfit) or bright blue tights with a short black dress. I’m not a crazy fashion-forward kinda girl, but I do appreciate owning my style, which someone once described as “sorta-but-not-really rocker chic.” I’ll take it.
“You’re a professor…you must make what like $80,000…a $100,00??”
I come from a family of shoppers: my dad, I believe, could shop me under the table. Seriously. I think this has helped me learn to become a killer window shopper. I can go into store after store and try on clothes just for fun. I tend to play a game: if I had XX amount of money, what would I buy and why. I also really love going with people as they shop because I like styling them. I like to believe that I have left a profound and positive styling effect on some of people that have come into my life. Take my cousin, J(G)S, who is president of Neenah Paper. She has to look professional from H2T daily, but I’ve seen little bits and pieces of glitz show up on her (i.e. leopard print flats or hot pink silk scarves). Or my good friend SG. She recently sent me a going-out picture where she was rockin’ sky-high black strappy sandals (she is over 6 foot and when I met her swore she would NEVER wear heels!). Or take my friend, LR. When I met her she was all about the basic color palette and hated shopping. At a graduation party, she rocked a beautiful print dress with gold heels (that she found herself!). And last, my mom, who was my muse and now lets me pick out her outfits. I tell her all the time I’m never going to let her go out of style…she’ll be the best dressed 90 year old. If this professor thing doesn’t work out, I’ve often thought about becoming a stylist. Just call me Rachel Zoe (only the real-life size. I could not eat for months and still not be that tiny).
I recently had a conversation with another graduate of FSU who had a similar thought as me: with her first “real” paycheck she was going to splurge and buy something like a Coach purse. Reality check came when my first “real” paycheck entered my bank account. I immediately called HR. The conversation went something like this…
“Uh, hi. I’m a recent hire at DU, and I think something is wrong with my paycheck.”
“Congrats on your recent hire!”
“Um, ok thanks.”
“So what seems to be the problem with your paycheck?”
“Well, there seems to be an awful lot missing from it.”
Chuckle (I wanted to jump through the phone and give him my best eyebrow arched, death stare). “Ok, well let’s take a look here…The federal tax is….”
And so on. The conversation concluded with me saddened by the reality that my paycheck would always be $1000 less that what I actually make given the amount of taxes and benefits taken out. No, there was nothing actually wrong with my paycheck. Someone forgot to tell me that once I ended my life after a graduate student (in the state of Florida), my paycheck would also reflect my real-life status. Not going to lie…it’s scarier than I thought. Also, please remember my dear readers (especially those of you getting ready to graduate soon), moving cleans you out. Moving across country even more. It takes a couple months to fully recover (I’m still in that phase). I didn’t give that enough credit either. So, you have to decide what’s most important to you and what’s not. Food wins out right now (although pop is #1, JT and I decided years ago when we first lived together that no matter how dire the situation, we would also have pop), which means no couch, TV, desk, cable, internet, or bed. When I tell people that most are like, how can you do it without a bed?!? Honestly, the bed doesn’t bother me as much as say a couch. You don’t think about how much you use a couch until you don’t have one. The couch is like the mecca of a home; it’s the safe haven that you can curl up on and snuggle with your dog; it’s where you can sip on some Dt. Coke while reading PeopleStyle; it’s the best place to take a power nap; it’s where the list-making happens. So, yes, not having a couch is worse than not having a bed. It’s the first thing that I’m going to buy. The very first.
Things I’ve learned or re-learned in the last two months about shopping, specifically grocery shopping:
1. Count your pennies and use them. I have no qualms about counting out pennies for groceries. JT got slightly embarrassed the last time we were grocery shopping, but the kind check-out lady was like, “honey, it all amounts to the same when I count it out at night.” Totally true.
2. Make a list to go grocery shopping and buy things that last a long time. We happen to be big cereal eaters—cereal taste good at any time of the day.
3. Treat yourself to something you truly do enjoy—this way it doesn’t feel like you totally depriving yourself. For JT and me, it’s Dt. Coke. We always, always have it.
4. Go through the grocery store and put everything in your cart. When you’re finished find an empty spot, and go through what’s in your cart deciding if you truly need it. We always find about $20-$40 worth of stuff that we don’t actually need.
5. Don’t be embarrassed about living on a strict budget. JT struggles with this more than I do. Perhaps it’s because I’m older, and I have lived longer, but I figure as long as we have something to eat for each meal (even if it’s a cup of Ramen) then we are doing better than a lot of people.
I like to think all my years of shopping and window shopping combined with coming from a line of shoppers has actually helped me live on a strict budget because I’m always looking for a good deal. I get excited when Dt. Coke goes on sale 3 for $9, or I find a good cheese for $4/lb.
I must confess: when my first paycheck was securely in my bank account, I went to Urban Outfitters and bought myself a present. I decided that since it was my first real paycheck in my first real professor job that I could splurge ever so slightly. I bought myself this super cute knit toboggan (that’s a hat for those you not from the north) that I had been eyeing since I moved to Denver (so five weeks). It was $26 and some change. It’s no Coach purse, but buying it made me feel giddy and when I put it on, I know that it was my first purchase as a professor. I kinda like that.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Work It!
I’ve developed a habit that is annoying even to me—I have a tendency to play with my hair when it’s down—I fluff it; I flip it; I flounce it. **Forgive me those of you who have had to witness this habit.** I’ve become the girl I detested in the seventh grade. I even occasionally stare at it as I walk by store windows. I don’t know how it happened except that I blame it on having short hair for a very long time. My hair hasn’t been this long since I was 10 (that’s two decades!), and it’s because I decided at a very young age that I didn’t want to be the girl with the long hair that boys wanted to grab and other girls wanted to braid. I didn’t want to be like every other girl. This idea was often reiterated by silly boys exclaiming over how their ideal woman had long hair cascading down her back…hello romance novel anyone?? Case in point: a rather dull boy from my college swim team once exclaimed at a new haircut, “Kara!!!! WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!" Uh, really kid? Apparently he never learned to think before speaking. I wanted to prove that, yes, girls can be sexy with short hair. Add that to I get bored very easily with my hair (some of you may have noticed the purple/pink streaks a couple years ago). So, it’s been awhile since my hair has touched my shoulders, let alone gone past them. Now that it does, it seems to me that longer hair can get in the way: you lay on it in bed; it gets caught underneath purse straps; and, it gets in the way when swiping on mascara. Yet, I can’t bring myself to cut it, and in fact, I’m aiming to let it grow (right now as one of my closest friends, J(L)M, reads this, she is screaming out loud, “there is NO way she’ll make it!").
Much like my transition into long(er) hair, my transition into living in Denver has had some interesting moments that include fluffing, flipping, and flouncing. I had fluffed off that hiking requires different shoes until I actually went hiking. Tennis shoes just don’t cut it. I’m sure those poor souls that were around Joey and me as we hiked in Red Rocks, shook their heads and whispered, “amateurs,” as I tentatively slid down a baby hill on my butt (hey—better to be safe, right?). I have repeated wanted to flip off the car behind me that honks its horn because I don’t gun it the very moment the red light turns green. For the record, I haven’t and won’t…but I have a very vivid picture of what I might look doing so. And last, I have flounced my way across Denver in search of good places to eat, shop, and make merry (for those of you unsure of how to flounce: honey-child, it can’t be taught. ;-). It has been so fun tasting and sampling the different flavors of Denver—people and food alike. Denver is unlike any place I have ever lived, and quite honestly, my morning jog has never been easier to handle with the mountains beaming at me in the background.
Five weeks into my move, and I feel like I’m slowly getting into a daily, organized life style. I’m working out again (yah! Dissertation 20—I got your number!). I’ve found a church I really connect with (for the record, churches in Denver tend to start at 6:00 pm Sunday night. That’s weird to someone who has gone to a Sunday morning church for the majority of her life). I’m beginning to make friends (double yah for that one, although, I’m having a shirt made that says, “Joey Taczak—the one standing next to me with loads of curly hair—is NOT my boyfriend.” Geez, and I thought having a twin brother was a date killer!! Don’t make assumptions, people.) And slowly but surely, I’m beginning to work again. This one has been the hardest, and for those of you who know me, I love to work, and I love to do lots of work. But for whatever reason—may it be the lack of a break between FSU and moving, may it be the transition from grad student to faculty member, or may it be transitioning into a new environment—I’ve struggled to get hard-core work accomplished. It’s happening, though. I have even color-coded the next month on my calendar—now you know I’m moving in the right direction. **One might think that without cable or internet that by now I would have gotten loads of work accomplished at home. You, my friend, would be sadly mistaken. I’ve been too busy playing with my hair.
Much like my transition into long(er) hair, my transition into living in Denver has had some interesting moments that include fluffing, flipping, and flouncing. I had fluffed off that hiking requires different shoes until I actually went hiking. Tennis shoes just don’t cut it. I’m sure those poor souls that were around Joey and me as we hiked in Red Rocks, shook their heads and whispered, “amateurs,” as I tentatively slid down a baby hill on my butt (hey—better to be safe, right?). I have repeated wanted to flip off the car behind me that honks its horn because I don’t gun it the very moment the red light turns green. For the record, I haven’t and won’t…but I have a very vivid picture of what I might look doing so. And last, I have flounced my way across Denver in search of good places to eat, shop, and make merry (for those of you unsure of how to flounce: honey-child, it can’t be taught. ;-). It has been so fun tasting and sampling the different flavors of Denver—people and food alike. Denver is unlike any place I have ever lived, and quite honestly, my morning jog has never been easier to handle with the mountains beaming at me in the background.
Five weeks into my move, and I feel like I’m slowly getting into a daily, organized life style. I’m working out again (yah! Dissertation 20—I got your number!). I’ve found a church I really connect with (for the record, churches in Denver tend to start at 6:00 pm Sunday night. That’s weird to someone who has gone to a Sunday morning church for the majority of her life). I’m beginning to make friends (double yah for that one, although, I’m having a shirt made that says, “Joey Taczak—the one standing next to me with loads of curly hair—is NOT my boyfriend.” Geez, and I thought having a twin brother was a date killer!! Don’t make assumptions, people.) And slowly but surely, I’m beginning to work again. This one has been the hardest, and for those of you who know me, I love to work, and I love to do lots of work. But for whatever reason—may it be the lack of a break between FSU and moving, may it be the transition from grad student to faculty member, or may it be transitioning into a new environment—I’ve struggled to get hard-core work accomplished. It’s happening, though. I have even color-coded the next month on my calendar—now you know I’m moving in the right direction. **One might think that without cable or internet that by now I would have gotten loads of work accomplished at home. You, my friend, would be sadly mistaken. I’ve been too busy playing with my hair.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Take Me or Leave Me or Maybe Both?
"Take me or leave me; or, as is the usual order of things, both."
— Dorothy Parker
In the event of a (half-way) across the country move, I feel like this Dorothy Parker quote sums up quite a lot.
Finding a place to live.
Transitioning into a new city, a new culture, a new community.
Finding and/or figuring out new and old friendships.
Getting into the general swing of things.
The other day, on a chilly and slightly overcast day, I walked across campus with students walking all over and mingled in the middle of them--part of me remembering what it was like to be 18 and not caring about anything except swimming and boys (not necessarily in that order!) and part of me ready to embrace the professor mode. But what does the professor mode look like and what does it feel like and what does it mean for me? When I was first getting ready to move to Denver, I thought it meant things like, and now suddenly I would be a "grown-up" but just what the heck does that actually mean? What determines a grown-up? As I moved my things into my super cute new apartment, I thought, well that's just silly--I am a grown-up, and I'm pretty content with how I've turned out. ;) So, as a result, I did things like decorate both my apartment and my office in what my mom refers to as having "lots of personality and warm." Some examples: my little area that I've deemed my "bistro"
So far I've never owned a dining room table, so a bistro area with a mosaic table seems more appropriate.
My new office--which is totally huge and amazing--I've tried to decorated by infusing my personality while trying to keep it inviting and happy.
My desk has lots of color, and of course, my FSU cup, plus a new MAC which I'm still figuring out how to properly use! I also have up (which you probably can't see that well) pictures that make me happy: friends and family, and of course, Trini. 
And last, I might even have a Steeler wall (a true Steeler fan stands behind her Steelers EVEN after that embarrassing opening!)
Does my office respond to what a "professor mode" might look like? I honestly don't know, but I can say, that I love my office and sitting behind my desk, I feel like me, which is at this current moment is a professor. So, perhaps, I am a little bit of the both mentality: take me and/or leave me. At the same time, I'm not thumbing my nose to the whole idea that some things will need to change; I understand that there are some things that might have to go as I step up in this new role (maybe my nail polish, which is currently teal with the black crackle polish over top...maybe not so much professional as it could be, especially given that I'm rockin' the slowlystartingtopeelaway look). But the challenge of figuring out how to merge the two together, I think is/will be a fun and interesting challenge. Just don't expect me to roll out the shoulder pads anytime soon. ;-)
— Dorothy Parker
In the event of a (half-way) across the country move, I feel like this Dorothy Parker quote sums up quite a lot.
Finding a place to live.
Transitioning into a new city, a new culture, a new community.
Finding and/or figuring out new and old friendships.
Getting into the general swing of things.
The other day, on a chilly and slightly overcast day, I walked across campus with students walking all over and mingled in the middle of them--part of me remembering what it was like to be 18 and not caring about anything except swimming and boys (not necessarily in that order!) and part of me ready to embrace the professor mode. But what does the professor mode look like and what does it feel like and what does it mean for me? When I was first getting ready to move to Denver, I thought it meant things like, and now suddenly I would be a "grown-up" but just what the heck does that actually mean? What determines a grown-up? As I moved my things into my super cute new apartment, I thought, well that's just silly--I am a grown-up, and I'm pretty content with how I've turned out. ;) So, as a result, I did things like decorate both my apartment and my office in what my mom refers to as having "lots of personality and warm." Some examples: my little area that I've deemed my "bistro"
So far I've never owned a dining room table, so a bistro area with a mosaic table seems more appropriate. My new office--which is totally huge and amazing--I've tried to decorated by infusing my personality while trying to keep it inviting and happy.
My desk has lots of color, and of course, my FSU cup, plus a new MAC which I'm still figuring out how to properly use! I also have up (which you probably can't see that well) pictures that make me happy: friends and family, and of course, Trini. 
And last, I might even have a Steeler wall (a true Steeler fan stands behind her Steelers EVEN after that embarrassing opening!)
Does my office respond to what a "professor mode" might look like? I honestly don't know, but I can say, that I love my office and sitting behind my desk, I feel like me, which is at this current moment is a professor. So, perhaps, I am a little bit of the both mentality: take me and/or leave me. At the same time, I'm not thumbing my nose to the whole idea that some things will need to change; I understand that there are some things that might have to go as I step up in this new role (maybe my nail polish, which is currently teal with the black crackle polish over top...maybe not so much professional as it could be, especially given that I'm rockin' the slowlystartingtopeelaway look). But the challenge of figuring out how to merge the two together, I think is/will be a fun and interesting challenge. Just don't expect me to roll out the shoulder pads anytime soon. ;-)
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