My Super Adult Sunday

Warning: There are crappy photos in crappy lighting below.

There's nothing that makes you feel more like an adult than building your own bed.
Actually, let me rephrase that: There's nothing that makes you feel more like an adult than building your own bed after sleeping on a mattress on the floor for four months.
Thanks to finally being on a regular pay schedule at work, I could finally afford the second part of my bed.
I was originally going to buy a box spring and bed frame, but then I stumbled on this little diddy that doubles as both a box spring and bed frame and only cost $70.
It took about an hour to build.

Oh, yeah. And then I painted one of the walls in my bed room. The color when I moved in was the bastard child of white and gray. 

It's super weird. 

Also, I had some white splotchy paint spots from the maintenance guy trying to cover some mold spots, so I decided to paint the wall containing my window.

I think I was subconsciously trying to channel my yellow bedroom I had when I lived at the Jeskes house in Madison.

I also just really like bright colors. 

And lots of bright colors. 

I drove to the lil local hardware store and a nice man named Bert helped me find everything I needed to paint my wall. 

Bert wouldn't make eye contact with me. 

It was awkward.

But he was helpful. 

Oh, and I spray painted my end table. 

I had the brilliant idea to spray paint it inside. In the middle of winter.

It was kinda the stupidest idea I ever had. 

The house smelt awful, and I'm sure I have spray paint poison in my lungs. 

But I was on a roll.

I bought the table from a thrift store. It was originally white. 

Now it's fun!

I'm slowly starting to put decorations up in my room. 

I'm totes excited about having a permanent place that reflects me and is comfy.

Oh, and it's glorious. 

Thanksgiving is so last week.

If there is such a thing as “rural suburbia”, then the small town that I grew up would be the poster child. Not quite small enough that everyone knows each other, and not quite close enough to be the suburbs of a big city.

I went “home” to said hometown for Thanksgiving to spend it with family and friends.

I went for a jog on Thanksgiving morning. Mostly because I believed some sort of delusion that jogging would cancel out my impending Thanksgiving dinner gorge, but mostly because I hadn’t gone for a jog in a really long time.

I’ll save the excuses about daylight savings times affecting the light outside preventing me from jogging in friendly sunlight.

Anyways, my first thought on my Thanksgiving jog was, “Dear God, please don’t let anyone I know see me.”

My next thought was realizing that after only a minute I was like, “I haaaaaaaaaaate this so much! WHYYYYYY?!”

So, there I was jogging and disliking every minute of it and I decided right there and then to talk to the Creator of the Universe.

My prayers were not exempt from the clichés that normally abound on this fine holiday,

I thanked Him for my body.

I thanked Him for a body with two strong legs to get me where I go.

I thanked Him for strong arms.

I thanked Him for a body that could potentially support a child (in like 10 years.)

I thanked Him for great health in a time of no medical insurance.

It was a freeing prayer—an attempt to put a positive spin on the things that I dislike most about my body.

I’ll get there, though.

I like myself the more now than I ever have in my entire life.

It also didn’t hurt that everyone I saw and visited told me how awesome I looked—well in context, the comparison is from six months ago to a year ago.

I hope you’re Thanksgiving was as wonderful as mine was: good food, good family, and good old friends.

This year, my family put all of the Thanksgiving "essentials" into a bowl and we each picked what food item we were in charge of. 

I got the turkey!

You can basically just call me Betty Crocker from now.

I took out the giblets and stuffed that bird with an unnatural amount of carbohydrates. 

Here's my littlest brother Nathan making gravy. 

I was really pulling for him to get turkey. 

Aaron got the green beans. 

Here's the Silva clan minus the instagramming photographer. 

What is it about your body that you are the most thankful for?

I went down a pants size.

I just got paid yesterday.

Yesssssssssssssssss.

Maybe they’ll remember to pay me next time around, too.

But whatever. I kinda like having bragging rights of “My job keeps forgetting to pay me.”

Just kidding.

So, all of my pants look really sad on my body.

So, I went to TJ Maxx (cuz apparently I’m a Maxxinista?).

I was like, “Okay, Becky. The last time you went shopping you tried on a pair of size 14 pants that fit you. Let’s do that again.”

And…they fit.

So, I have OFFICIALLY gone down a pants size!

This was me in the dressing being like "OH, MAH GAWSH!"

I'm not sure why my hand is above my head.

This has taken friggin’ forever, but it’s slowly working.

Genetics are working really hard against me, though.

In other news, I think No-Shave November is hilarious. Even more hilarious is that I like doing it, too.  It’s kinda like this big joke I have with myself. It’s fine. I’m single. You’re whispering to yourself, “That’s why she’s single!”

FALSE!

I’m single cuz I’m pretty annoying.

It’s really hard to go on a first date when you’re participating in No-Shave November.

That may have happened last week.

And he may have never contacted me again, haha.

It’s fine.

I find it more hilarious than anything.

Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me.

Everything is way too funny.

I don’t have time for seriousness.

Fun fact: The best part of being overweight is having a nice rack.

Work Fashion: Part 2

It’s been a hot minute since I last updated.

But, I did remember to take a few pics of a few outfits since the last time I posted.

None of my pants fit very well anymore. It's probably weight loss, but whatever. 

My body fat is surely taken it's time to get the Hell off my body. 

The King of Prussia Mall is a super fancy mall near my work. So, I stopped there hoping to avoid some traffic and find a pair of pants that didn't look granny-licious on me. 

(No offense, dear grandmas.)

I found a super colorful dress on clearance for ten dolllllllars. Holllllla. 

I'm such a sucker for bright, happy things. I'm sure nobody has every noticed that about me.

You can find said dress in Outfit Cuatro below. 

The size 16 pants I tried on didn't fit me.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm officially a size 14 now, but it was super awesome when the size 14 pants still looked a teensy bit loose. 

(Insert rant about how women's clothing needs to have an official standard size across all clothing brands.)

So, that was fun. Enjoy the awkward photos. 

Yeah, I made that myself.

(How is there so much talent in this body?!)

Outfit Uno:

Top Half                          Bottom Half      

I like to call this little outfit Peter Pan...mostly because that's what the video guys were calling me. I can dig it. And, I can't seem to remember where any of this outfit came from. The shoes are from Payless, the belt is thrifted, and the tights are thrifted as well. 

Outfit Dos:

The roomy helped me on this one. 

Cardigan: Thrifted

Dress: Thrifted

Belt: Thrifted

Leggings: Ye olde Wal-Mart

Shoes: Payless

Watermelon Purse: Thrifted

I forgot to warn about all the stupid faces I make when I "pose". 

Outfit Tres: 

I went shopping yesterday after work and realized I hadn't taken a photo of my outfit. 

Yellow Jacket (haha): Thrifted

Dress: Target

Shoes (that you can't see): Thrifted

I took off my tights, because I had ripped them at work. May they rest in peace. Next paycheck I'm going to stock up on colorful tights.

Outfit Cuatro: 

d

I apologize.

Dress: Lane Bryant

Belt: Thrifted

Boots: JC Penny 

Tights: Hanukkah gift

The lighting was so awful in front of my ghetto mirror. So, I attempted to do the ol' photo booth on my Mac: click record and run like Hell to make it in the photo before it takes. 

Bread that I made: 

:(

Here's a sad looking loaf of bread I made that completely flattened in the bread machine. It kinda looks like a jewelry box I had as a kid.

Questions? Comments? Concerns?

Work Fashion

I forgot that I promised I would do Work Fashion updates.

I haven’t been documenting everyday, but I have taken a few photos of my work outfits.

1) First day of work outfit.

Weird light reflection thing on my face...

Cardigan: Thrifted

Tank Top: Target

Belt: Thrifted

Pants: Belks

Shoes: Thrifted

Face & Body: David and Sherri Silva

2) Outfit

I chose to not show my face so I could be objectified.

Cardigan: Kohls

Dress: Sister (she got it from a yard sale)

Belt: Thrifted

Tights: Thrifted (is that weird?)

Boots: JC Penny

Body: David and Sherri Silva

3) Outfit

Why is my hair so ridiculous?

Cardigan: Kohls

Dress: Thrifted

Belt: Thrifted

Face & Body: David and Sherri Silva

4) Outfit

This is actually my favorite dress that I own.

Dress: Forever 21

Belt: Thrifted

Tights: Wal-Mart

Boots: JC Penny

Face & Body: David and Sherri Silva

What do you think?

Am I assimilating well to corporate adult culture?

Any tips?

Criticism?

Like, I literally have no idea what I’m doing.

The stocky girl in granny panties.

First off, I want to apologize to the people I passed on Ridge and Main Street.

Apparently I’ve lost more weight than I originally thought.

My jogging pants kept sliding down my butt to reveal my beautifully orange granny panties. I had to pull them up every 45 seconds or so.

One couple I passed on the street decided to stop what they were doing to watch the train wreck waiting to happen.

If that wasn’t clear enough, the train wreck was my pants falling off.

When I left for my wog, (half walking/half jogging), I had a route in mind. And I planned on being gone for 30 minutes.

But I quickly realized that I had a dilemma on my hands.

Dilemma: keep jogging and have my pants fall down in public or don’t jog and be a fat ass.

I decided that due to my mental break down last night, I didn’t want to chance an embarrassing moment to top it off.

So, I ended up walking for about an hour and ten minutes.

It was about 4.76 miles.

And, it was actually really nice.

I finally found the Schuylkill River Trail.

It’s something like a 26 mile bike trail that runs along Philly and north of us.

There were tons of mosaics and paintings along the way.

I liked it.

However, it runs along a nasty looking water thing. I don’t think it’s the actual Schuylkill River. I think it’s probably a canal or something.

But it was gross.

Here’s a picture to prove the grossness.

The poor ducks are swimming in trash. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that walking and jogging are the only things that I can afford at this poverty-licious time in my life. But it sucks, because I don’t get to see the benefits of it for another 5 months.

Boo.

I realized today that I have pretty muscular thighs.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely overweight.

But I’m more muscular than I thought.

I always thought that fat was the reason I have massively sized thighs.

Come to find out, I’m just a stocky lil thing.

Dang, these Jewish genes are incredibly strong.

It would’ve been nice to get those slender genes from the Gentile side.

But whatever.

Anger: And it ain't righteous.

I’m incredibly thankful and grateful that I have a job.

And a job that is closely related to what I studied.

That’s more than I can say for a lot of people with college degrees in this damn recession.

But, today I’m so mad at God that I could scream.

And the funny thing is that I have absolutely no reason to be mad at God.

I’m angry that my job doesn’t pay for moving costs.

I’m angry that I didn’t start my job until 17 days after I was supposed to.

I’m angry that I’ve become $1,800 in debt for moving out here.

I’m angry that I have to keep borrowing money from my parents for gas money.

I’m angry that I have to mooch food off my roommate.

I’m angry that I haven’t gotten paid yet.

I’m angry that I don’t have a Philly best friend.

I’m angry that nobody touches me—nobody hugs me.

I’m angry that I can’t afford to explore the city.

I’m angry that for the first time since “reaching” adulthood, I really miss my family.

I’m angry that I am listening to emo music as I type this.

And, I’m angry that it’s Friday night, and I’m writing this blog.

None of this really has to do with God at all.

But I’ve decided to blame Him.

We humans like our scapegoats.

And, I know all of my grievances are completely temporary and first worldly on the problem scale.

But writing helps me process things.

And I just moved.

So, I’m allowed to have an emotional breakdown, right?

Any sort of encouragement is desired from my virtual peers.

Just don’t use clichés.
I likes jokes, too.