Forgetfulness - Housesitting Edition

I don't typically consider myself a forgetful person, but for some reason whenever I housesit my brain shuts down during the packing process.

It could have something to do with the fact that I usually "pack" in a 5 minute period of time.

Whatever the reason, I've forgotten some fairly important things.

(PS - That's Missy in the picture above. She likes to survey her empire (aka: yard) when she gets the paper in the morning)

Shoes: Once during the summer, I moved into a house wearing flip flops. I had all my work clothes for the next couple of days, but I had neglected to bring work shoes. That resulted in a trip home at midnight to grab shoes for the duration of the trip.

Makeup: Kind of a necessity for me during the work week. Luckily the absence of said make up was discovered on a Saturday, so I was able to retrieve it prior to Sunday. Hooray!

Socks: Not the end of the world, but my feet were fairly cold for a day.

Mousse: This resulted in a pony tail day.

Shampoo/conditioner: Another pony tail day.

Tights: Again, not the end of the world. Just another one of those, "Seriously, Emily!" moments.

Underwear: that was an interesting day.

Hair dryer: I woke up, took a shower, went to grab my dryer - discovered I'm a loser who forgot something important. I don't like going to work with wet hair, so I finished getting ready then drove across town to my place to get the hair dryer and finish the hair process.
I still got to work early. BOOM!

There have been many, many more items that I have forgotten, but most of them were little things that don't really make a difference in the getting-ready process (earrings, iPad, etc...)

This has nothing to do with anything I just said, but I hope you all have a fantastic Thanksgiving filled with family, friends, and food! I expect to see many, many delicious food photos in the next week.

Side note: I'm glad that the trees still look like this. I will never get tired of these colors.

I Love My Hair. I Hate My Hair.

I’ve never had long hair. That’s a fact that has put me in much turmoil in my short time on this earth.

When I was really young, my parents kept my hair extremely short. Apparently I did not like getting my hair brushed, and I would speak my mind quite loudly about the subject. That doesn’t sound like me…

But because of this, I look like a boy in every picture (all 6 of them) from when I was little.

As my body grew, my hair for the most part stayed the same length. There would be some years where I would decide to grow it out, but then it would reach shoulder level and I’d think, “how do people have long hair?!” And then I’d grab a pair of scissors and chop off all of my hair a la Edward Scissorhands.

OK, not really. But I wanted to do that quite a few times.

(Honestly, what’s your secret, long-hair ladies? How do you all look so effortlessly put together and cool all the time? I keep telling myself that when the weather starts to cool down things will be better. I’ll probably think the exact opposite when the cool weather finally arrives)

For several reasons 2011 was another year when I decided to grow my hair out. So far I think I’ve done OK. I haven’t made any desperate phone calls to my hair lady. I haven’t shed any tears while fixing my hair (well, maybe a few). It’s a little past my shoulders, and I’m pushing onward and upward. Well, technically downward.

But in the meantime, I’ll keep dreaming that my hair will look like this:

When in reality it will most likely look something along the lines of this: