Family Photographs

Remember my photo class? The one called "Finding your Vision Courage?" Well, it finally ended. After many weeks of shooting, editing, writing and crying. It finally ended. And I survived.

The hardest part? Writing the damn Artist Statement. Me. The one who started out with an interest in writing. Who discovered a passion for taking photos along the way. Struggled to write the damn statement.

And I know why. It's the same reason I always struggle with writing for classes. It becomes too personal. The thoughts that I keep bottled up inside me. That I never want to see the light of day. Are the only ones I seem to write about in class situations. Because if I'm going to write. It has to mean something to me. And the things that mean something to me. Are the things I don't like to talk about.

And of course we had to read our statements aloud. Or rather our partners read our statements aloud. And in my case. She read. While I bawled. Yep. Big heaving, gasping tears. Totally embarrassing. It sucked. And then to top it all off? My partner told me to basically cut out everything I wrote.

Later others in the class made me promise not to change it. And told me not to read it on the day of the reception. So I wouldn't get emotional. In the end, I did edit it. Basically making it longer.

At the eleventh hour BSD found out he would not be home for the reception. Needless to say I was crushed. But the reception turned out to be a lot of fun. Thanks to some very dear friends. Who came to support me. And stayed the whole two hours despite an absolutely gorgeous beach day passing them by.

A table filled with snacks and drinks kept the ballerinas and their friends happy. And my friend's father-in-law volunteered to keep us all entertained as our very own piano man. What a treat that was!

In the end I learned a lot. About myself. About my vision. About courage. I'm sick and tired of the photos I took in this class. But I look forward to taking more. So I'd say the class was a success.

Family Photographs
Growing up, I have fond memories of my father as the family photographer. The worn leather strap of his Leica hung from his shoulder throughout our family travels. He photographed our family, doing ordinary things in extraordinary places, and he brought that world back home for us through slides projected onto our living room wall.

Just like my father, my family inspires me to pick up my camera. Beyond the family trips and birthday celebrations, I am captivated by capturing the everyday moments. Those moments that I don’t want to forget: the way my youngest curls her blankie around her fingers before she drifts off to sleep, or the dozens of chocolate chip cookies we’ve baked together over the years; even a simple hand-scrawled note or a family game of cards.

The photographs displayed here are simple: a family doing ordinary things in ordinary places. This collection represents a season of our family life, literally and figuratively. Other seasons will come and go, and with my Canon hanging from my shoulder by its patchwork strap, I will continue to document our “ordinary” life. As my father did before me, I will leave a legacy in the form of photographs for my children. Simple. Ordinary. Extraordinary.


***
Note: The two photographs from the reception were taken with my dad's camera. *big cheesy grin*

The Nothing Says I Love You Better Than Apple Bundt Cake Recipe

Sorry to be such a drama mama. I hesitated to even post yesterday, but when something is on my mind I need to get it out. Writing has always been a way to heal for me. I don't like to actually talk about these things. "Oh, by the way, here's my bad news..." Just doesn't feel right. The words get stuck in my throat. And with BSD still gone (along with his single suitcase), and accessible only intermittently via email, it didn't seem fair to dump these thoughts on him either.

So, a great big thank you to those who took the time to comment or sent a positive thought my way. I appreciated every single one of them. You were right. I needed to pull my head out of it. And out of Google. I'm still waiting to hear, but in the meantime, it will be no news is good news. I wish I could have each of you over for a drink, a cup of tea, a Diet Coke. Or how about some cake? Cake always makes me feel better.

But since that's not possible, I'll share the recipe instead. It's a winner. *pinky promise* Even the ballerinas and their friends loved it. Kids who were expecting chocolate cake with white icing out of the can when I said cake. Not apple cake. "ewwww..."

Seriously, it couldn't be more moist. More comforting. More Fall. Make it for someone you love.

Nothing Says I Love You Better Than Apple Bundt Cake
Serves 10-12

For the cake:
3 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda

1 Tablespoon cinnamon
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 cup vegetable oil (or sub 1/2 cup applesauce, 1/2 cup oil)
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 cups diced raw peeled cooking apples (about 5 small/med apples)
1 cup chopped pecans or walnuts (optional, I didn't use them.)
2 eggs, lightly beaten

For the glaze:
1/2 cup melted butter
1/2 cup sugar (original recipe called for 1 cup. I cut it way down.)
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 teaspoon baking soda

Peel and dice apples. Sprinkle with cinnamon. Into a large mixing bowl, sift together the flour, salt and soda. Add remaining cake ingredients and stir together until well-blended. Spread into a greased* and floured 10-inch tube pan. Bake at 350F for 1 hour or until toothpick comes out clean. (Only took 55 minutes in my oven.)

For the topping, melt the butter in a small saucepan and add the remaining ingredients, stirring constantly, cooking for about a minute. When cake comes out of the oven, pour topping over hot cake, make sure it drizzle down the sides. Don't let it just pool on top. (I only used about half of the glaze on mine.) Let rest in pan for 30 minutes to one hour before removing from pan.

Note...The cake batter will be crazy thick and lumpy, but it will cook. Promise. I used a non-stick pan. Just dusted with flour. Came out pretty well. A few small chunks popped off when flipping it, but not enough to warrant adding extra grease.

Ten on Ten: July 2010

It's Ten on Ten time again.  Ten pictures over ten hours on the tenth of each month. I love this project.

Today was a hectic day so it was fun to document. Can't wait to see what everyone else shot today. If you haven't joined in, I hope you will next month.

2nd coat of paint

Breakfast

Groovy swim meet

Backstroke

Wrong Turn

Class

Research

Dinner Games

Big Ballerina's funky new fabric

Sweet Dreams, Good Night

Resolution #2: Check

I was searching online for a local photography class a new friend recently mentioned. I don't know what she was talking about because it's not listed anywhere on their site. Hate when that happens.

Buuuuuttttt, check out what I found instead....

Children's Picture Book Writing Workshop

This hands-on workshop introduces basic information about the craft of writing for children and will also delve in the business of publishing children's picture books. Participants will develop a picture-book manuscript, get feedback, and work to strengthen the story with revision. The workshop also provides an overview of the editing, illustration and publishing process. Students should bring their imagination along with their favorite children's book for discussion. 

A 6 week session beginning June 5
Open to: writers of all levels of experience 

I couldn't believe it. Months ago I searched for local writing classes and came up empty. Then, BAM! This bad boy flashes across my screen. You know me and signs. It must have been meant to be, right? What are the odds?  I mean, c'mon. I meet this new friend. I happen to ask her about her camera. She happens to mention these "mystery" photography classes. I happen to try to find them. The class session happens to start just when BSD will be starting vacation so I don't have to worry about child care. Blah, blah, blah.

The course description sounds comprehensive. I hope it's worthwhile. I've been hanging out on some really amazing writer's blogs (here, here, and here) so I'm feeling pretty smart that I know what's up. This will be me....

I'm going to know all the answers. I'll be the overachiever. I'm going to blow them all away with my brilliance and creativity. They're going to ask me to teach the next session.

Yeah, right. 

This is more likely....

I'll gather up my pathetic scraps of paper with ideas and quotes and slink into the room. Wondering who the other students are. What their "level of experience" is. Am I going to be the only one who's never completed a full manuscript? Do all of my ideas suck? Are they going to all head over to the coffee shop after class to listen to poetry readings, smoke clove cigarettes and laugh about "that mom who thinks she's going to write a children's book?"

At least I can complete the first assignment. There are a ton of picture books that I love. I just need to pick one favorite. Oh, and since I don't smoke, I'll get a cool beret so maybe my classmates will let me tag along after all.

Resolution #2: Check

No Love From Erma

It's early spring. That can only mean one thing. The Erma Bombeck essay contest winners have been announced.

Apparently, my love for Erma has not been reciprocated. Yes, I'm sad to say Erma has a crush on another. And it appears I'm not the only one who's been jilted by Mrs. Bombeck. A group of others who were similarly cast aside have banded together to create "Erma's Leftovers."

(image: Life Just Keeps Getting Weirder. )

I need to contact these women to see if there's room in their fridge for my "victory-challenged" essay. In the meantime, I'll just leave it out here until it really starts to stink.

Lasting Memories

There are three days each year that fill me with dread and fear. The kind of days that are so bad I wish I had a fast-forward button on my calendar. Those three days are my yearly date with my OB/GYN, April 15th and School Picture Day.

Sweet faces smile up at me from the order form promising “lasting memories,” and all I want to do is choke them. Who are these kids? What school do they go to because they obviously don't go to my kids’.

You see, at their school the photographers are blind. They have to be. It's the only explanation for why, year after year, my daughter comes home with pictures only a mother could love.

Last year’s photographer was not only blind, but he must have thought my daughter was too. Why else would my adorable little girl be sent home with a school picture of Stevie Wonder? Hello! That’s a headband, not sunglasses. Push it back on top of her head where it belongs!

As if School Picture Day isn't bad enough, there's also the Night Before School Picture Day to endure. The night we spend hours picking out the perfect ensemble and bullying her curls into submission. The night the poor girl sits patiently as we diffuse her hair into big, bouncy loops. The night she smiles at her reflection and beams, "I’m so lucky. I love my curly hair!" Only to wake the next morning to find her beloved locks reduced to a frizzy, matted mess and wail, "It's not fair! I hate my curly hair!"

Desperately, I perform CPR on her lifeless curls. Spray. Spritz. Scrunch. Scrunch. Spritz. Spray. Over and over again until there's no hope left. "I'm sorry, sweetie. The damage was too extensive," I tell her as I stick a headband on top of her head. Her eyes fill with tears. I hug her and whisper, "Don't cry, sweetie. Your hair is bad enough. You don't want your eyes to be red and swollen too," which for some reason makes her cry even harder. Why is it so hard for kids to take constructive criticism these days?

Just as I’m finally getting over this trauma, my daughter leaps off the bus, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, clutching a large envelope to her chest. The familiar sound of crackling cellophane makes my stomach lurch. The proofs are in.

“Mama, I got my pictures!” she squeals, thrusting the envelope in my face. I break out in a cold sweat.

“Mama, why are you crying? My hair looks fine!”

“I’m crying because you’re not my little baby anymore,” I moan. The Kool-Aid mustache had nothing to do with it. I swear.

Note: I knew I should have gone with the reference to Lt. Geordie La Forge instead of Stevie Wonder. I bet the judges were all Trekkies.

Resolution #4: Check

Well, it's not a children's book, but I did submit something I've written. It counts. So, I can officially cross Resolution #4: Submit something I've written off my list. 

I do plan to submit other pieces, but the pressure is off. If I want I can sit on my ass for the next 11 months and still feel successful. Yeah, for absurdly simple little resolutions.

Now, when is "early spring?"

Thank you for submitting your entry in the Erma Bombeck Writing Competition sponsored by the Washington-Centerville Public Library. Your entry details are below and confirm receipt of your submission. Please keep this e-mail for your records. Winners will be posted on the Library's Web site in early spring.

Submit Date and Time: 1/21/2010 1:06:11 PM

ENTRY NUMBER: 337

Locale: Global

Country: United States

Category: Humor

Essay Title: Lasting Memories

Resolutions for 2010

It's a new year. A new decade even. 2010. Crazy! It seems like just yesterday I was partying like it was 1999. The clock is ticking way too fast.

In light of this, I feel compelled to create a list of resolutions for myself in 2010. I do make resolutions every year, but I've learned that if they are not absurdly, simple little things I will never stick to them.

So, in the past, my resolutions have looked like this:

• 2005 - Do not leave dirty dishes in the sink - If I could just get BSD and the ballerinas to get on board with this, now OCD of mine, all would be right with the world.
• 2006 - Make my bed everyday - Pathetic, I know. But, I have done it every single day for the past four years. Not too shabby.
• 2007 - Make the kids' beds everyday- Hey, it only made sense to keep the theme going. And, I don't want to hear it from you Super Moms that your kids have been making their own beds since they figured out how to pull themselves up.
• 2008 - Wear lipstick/gloss everyday - Well, I guess this one was too much to handle. This resolution was an epic fail. I will put on all the rest of the makeup products (when I actually put on makeup), but I still fail to apply the lipstick. It must be because my lips are the only thing left on my face that don't look old. Once they start to wrinkle and droop like everything else, I'm sure the lipstick will be all over the bottom half of my face.
• 2009 - Try at least one new recipe each month - I think I may have done this. I know in the beginning I was trying more than one new one each week, so I'm sure I tried at least 12 new recipes in 2009. I don't think anyone ate any of them, though. So was this a pass or a fail?
  

Ok...so looking onward. In 2010, I'd like to...

1. Continue blogging to try to answer the burning question of What Am I Going to Be When I Grow Up?
2. Take another writing class
3. Participate in Project365 where you take a picture every single day (Santa brought me an awesome new pocket-sized point and shoot so I should have no excuses.)
   
4. Submit something I've written (I promise, Corey!)  
5. Be nicer to BSD (That was his suggestion, but I've thought about it, and I wouldn't want him to take away my Mean-Ass Woman title that I worked so hard to earn.)
   

This list is a little scary. We'll see how successful I am. I hope you'll stick around for the ride. I could use the moral support.

Happy New Year!

An Author Came to our School

On Friday, I took the Little Ballerina to a school family night. It was advertised as an evening of storytelling by a "famous picture book author." While I thoroughly enjoyed it because she spoke a bit about being an author, the Little Ballerina and the rest of the under-7 crowd, and their parents, were not as enthralled.

I'm guessing this had a lot to do with the fact that our school advertised this as "an evening of storytelling," and what we got were lessons about writing. While the lessons were valuable, (to me as an adult) they sailed over the heads of the intended audience. Again, I'm sure this was the PTA pulling one of their famous bait and switches on us, and not the fault of the author. (As a 4 year PTA board member veteran, I should not be surprised, but I always get sucker punched by this fact at least once each year!)

So...here are a few bits of advice from a parent and former teacher for those who do school visits. (StoryQueen, if you're reading, I'd love your comments on this.) They probably seem insanely obvious, but after what we experienced, they may not be.

1. Introduce Yourself - Yes, you may have already spent the day at the school and the kids may already know who you are, but the parents don't. 
2. Know Your Audience - I'm assuming the PTA will tell you the age range of the students for a day visit, and it should match up with who is at the assembly. But, if you are there in the evening, you can't be sure what ages will show up. So, be over prepared. Have stories, lessons or activities ready for younger and older audiences and go with the one that matches the majority of your audience. 
3. Tell A Story - If you've been promoted as a "storyteller," please tell a story. If it's one of your own, even better. 
4. Engage the Audience -  If you can, have the group chant, sing, clap, move or repeat after you during the storytelling. If you can, bring audience members up to be part of the presentation as well. Ask the kids questions. Whatever works for you to get their attention and keep it.  
5. Work Out Who Will Take Care of Discipline - Unfortunately, there may be times where some children become unruly...and the parents of these little angels are nowhere to be found. Either be a master at drawing wandering attentions back into focus or make sure someone from the school will have your back and step in. You shouldn't have to stand up there, continually raising your voice, to be heard above the chaos. 
6. Have Your Books Available for Purchase - Even if you've sent home fliers ahead of time for families to buy books, bring extras along with you. If you don't read any of them to the audience, at least have them on display where families can see them and look at them. Be available at the end of your presentation to sign them. 

I hope this post is received in the spirit in which it is intended. In no way, am I saying that authors are incompetent and need my advice. Who the heck am I?!?!? Just someone who thinks that maybe someday she might like to find herself in front of an audience sharing something she wrote. And, if that day should come, these are just a few of the things I'd like to remember.

It Started With a Dream

Did anyone catch the interview with Stephenie Meyer on Oprah last week? I'm not an Oprah fan and I haven't read any of the Twilight series, but I was really interested to see this interview. And, I'm so glad I did.

For the writers who stop by now and then, this is probably such old news to you, but I was shocked when I found out Stephenie was "just a mom". The author of the most sought-after young adult fiction books with crazed fans across the globe was just a mom who had a dream.

A dream! Not the "I dream of becoming a famous writer" kind of dream. The "I've got three kids under five, I'm so sleep-deprived I'm lucky if I nap long enough to even begin a dream" dream!

Holy crap! I think that's simply amazing.

The woman had no writing background. No aspirations of becoming a writer. No deep fascination with vampires. Heck, she didn't even realize she was writing a novel until she was done. (I'll bet she's also one of those women who didn't know she was pregnant until the baby fell out while she was running a marathon.) She was just "having fun, escaping into a fantasy land" recording what she saw in that one dream.

And then she went on to write three more books in the series at a rate of one per year?! That was some frickin' dream! Her mattress company should be beating down her door begging for a testimonial.

I decided there must be something to this dream business. In a writing book I was reading a while back, it also said to pay close attention to your dreams and record them when you wake up. "Relax yourself before you go to sleep and tell yourself you will remember your dream when you wake," the author suggested.

Well, I tried it, but either I am dream-impaired or destined to write a story about...

1) having to go to the bathroom (#2) and the only bathroom stalls available are either taken, clogged or those ultra bizarrely shaped toilets that have no seats and you'd never sit on it in a million years, not even with one of those paper toilet seat covers. What are those toilets supposed to be used for anyway?

or

2) not being able to graduate from college because I didn't go to one class all semester and there's no way I'll pass the final (and then I wake up truly wondering if I did, indeed, graduate. It takes me forever to remember that I did because it was so many years ago that I'm already starting to forget. You'd think I should be over this type of dream by now, wouldn't you?)

Not sure there's a best-seller in either of those, but I have them often enough that they must mean something. Anyone here a got a clue what that might be? Do I really want to know?

What about you? Do you have any recurring dreams or have you gotten any story ideas from dreams?

Only One More Week to Go

You may remember that I signed up to take an online writing class. Well, we're already heading into the home stretch.

Last night, I stayed up until the wee morning hours getting my homework turned in only to wake a few hours later with a whole new idea for an entire section. Two nights ago, unable to sleep, I turned on my computer at 1am and worked on my essays until 4am. I've spent hours poring over magazines at Barnes & Noble. For the first time in years, I walked past the Children's Room and crossed the threshold of the Reference section of the library.

I am tired. I am spent. I still have one week to go. But, at the same time...

I am invigorated.
I am excited.
I am learning.

While I miss the camaraderie of a live class, I think it is fair to say it was worth it.

Sorry...you'll have to wait...

I just spent the last hour working on a post only to realize that it's the perfect subject for one of the two essays I need to write for my writing class. So...the entry has been saved to my Blogger Dashboard and will be posted at the end of the next 6 weeks. Unless, of course, some brilliant editor realizes how witty it is and decides to publish it in her fabulous magazine. Then you'll have to pay to read my pearls of wisdom....or at least pick up your free copy at a McDonald's play center nearest you.

It's good to dream, right?

Oh, and how's this for another "sign". My homework assignment this week was to study some of the winning essays in the ERMA BOMBECK writing contest! I didn't even know there was such a contest.

Snakes and Erma Bombeck. Who knew?

Mean Ass Woman: The Head Shot

My online class starts tomorrow. I've already picked out my clothes and made my lunch. I'm ready.

Wait? What's this email in my inbox? There's already homework due and it's not even the first day?!?! What have I gotten myself into?

My first assignment is to write a short bio and send in a head shot. What? I thought this was a writing class, not a modeling class. Who's teaching this? Tyra Banks?

I don't have any head shots. I'm just a mom. I don't have any published works that would require a formal portrait. Heck, I don't even have any pictures of myself because, again, I'm a mom. I'm the one who lugs around the 50 lb camera bag on all family adventures. I shoot all the fun; I don't have any of it.

What is this teacher thinking? I thought this class was for moms. I better go back and reread the course description. I think I signed up for the wrong class. hmm...I'm going to email the teacher about this obvious mix-up.

OK...the teacher emailed me back and assured me that ...

1. I signed up for the right class
2. This is a writing class
3. It is for moms
4. She is not Tyra Banks

PHEW! She also said she understands about being a mom and not having any photos. She recommends I use my web cam to take a current picture of myself.

OK. Let me go put on some makeup and fix my hair first. Let's see...1, 2, 3...."CHEESE!"

I know some of you didn't believe that I truly am a Mean Ass Woman, but here is the proof. Cold hard undeniable evidence. I am not proud of this, but since the purpose of this blog is to thoroughly examine myself I need to accept the truth. The good, the bad and, yes, the ugly truth.  

So there you have it. This portrait of a Mean Ass Woman was drawn by my biggest ballerina when she was about 4 years old. When she shared this drawing with me back then she said, and I quote,  "This is a picture of MAWMAW (pronounced momma) when she's mad".

I knew I should have been concerned that her favorite picture book for so long was When Sophie Gets Angry--Really, Really Angry... It was obviously therapy for her.

So...who wants to sit next to MAWMAW for the next 6 weeks?

I Heart Erma Bombeck...

The deadline to vote in my online class poll has passed. Sorry if you missed your chance. The early bird gets the worm, and all that, you know. After many hours spent counting all the votes, the final tally was 3-3.

A BIG FAT TIE! (although my IRL friends seem to think their votes count more than my shiny, new cyber friends'....ummmm, no)

Yep, all that blood, sweat and tears and it's a TIE! Big help you all turned out to be. So, that puts the decision back on my shoulders. And, after pondering long and hard, the winner is........

• That
• B
• Jersey

I know, I know. Half of you are disappointed, but let me explain why before you rip my jersey dress to shreds in Cinderella's Evil Stepsister fashion. 

You see...I heart Erma Bombeck.

Erma Bombeck, for those of you too young to remember, was a newspaper columnist and author who wrote funny stories about being a suburban wife and mother. I guess you could call her the precursor to today's "Mommy Bloggers". She didn't write as an expert on any subjects. She wrote about her regular, ordinary life.
 

I had long since forgotten about my love for Mrs. Bombeck. It wasn't until I started this blog that I remembered my junior high fascination with all things Erma. While my friends and I were secretly reading and underlining the racy passages in this...

I was also secretly nose deep in this, guffawing my way through along with the rest of the 35 year old suburban housewives who were her target audience.

Don't ask me why. I don't know HOW I discovered Erma. My mom didn't read her books; neither did my sister nor my grandmother. Yet somehow I found myself waiting impatiently for each of her new books.

Maybe her column was printed on the same newspaper page as the Daily Jumble; another one of my younger days' fascinations. Wow! I never realized what a nerd I was back then. Good thing nobody knows these deep dark secrets. Maybe it was the only book available that I could understand at the airport newsstand on one of our family vacations. Maybe it was Erma herself trying to guide me in my journey of what I should be when I grow up.

I just don't know.

I do know that I haven't thought about her in years yet she came to me in the shower this morning. I was shampooing my hair and I remembered her books. And my love for them. Just like that. Her name and her books came back to me. I smiled and rinsed my hair.  I understood. Erma had cast her vote. And it was for jersey.

Side Note: For those of you who are going to try to figure out how old I am by researching the publication dates of these books, I'll save you the trouble. On Halloween this year, I'll be 29, and not a day older!

This or That? A or B? Jersey or Silk?

I've been considering taking an online class for a while now. It's something I've never done. I guess I'm old school. It seems strange to me to take a class yet not physically sit in a lecture hall with a spiral notebook and my favorite Paper Mate pen. I love being part of a class; sharing a common interest with others. Will an online class leave me lonely and unmotivated? The course description talks about "classmates", but who are these people? How will I know who to sit next to if I can't see anyone? This is starting to sound like that dorky TV show, Dating in the Dark. Yes, I'm ashamed to admit I watched some pathetic TV programs this summer.

There are actually two classes I'm considering. Both are writing classes. I learned about these classes from The Writer Mama Riffs blog. I'm pretty sure I'm going to take one of these classes. I just need to figure out which one.

The first class is called Writing and Publishing the Short Stuff (Especially for Moms!) [WPSS]. I love the title. I love the idea of this class. You work on writing and submitting short articles to get your feet wet so that you can move on to lengthier pieces when you're ready. This class sounds like it was made for me. Of course it's for me. I meet the prerequisite... I'm a mom.

The only problem is what kind of articles can I write? What subjects am I an expert in? I guess these are the things you examine about yourself in the class. This sounds like a great way to figure out "what I'm going to be when I grow up." While this sounds great, it also scares the heck out of me. What if I have nothing to write about? What do I know enough about that a magazine would actually publish? Here we go...I'm starting to talk myself out of this. The only difference is I'm actually sharing the idea first.

The second class is called Personal Essays That Get Published. In this class you're supposed to "get real and personal". Write about your own life. Now, this I feel more comfortable with. It seems like a natural extension of what I'm doing here with this blog. And if I can earn some money from writing what I already know, it sounds like a perfect fit. This class seems safe. Interesting, yet comfortable. Aaaaahhhhh.....

So...which class do I choose? Do I go with what makes me comfortable? A simple jersey dress. Or....do I go with WPSS and push myself to put on one of those unworn silky dresses in my closet? My inner voice is telling me jersey is more practical. Of course it is...

The classes start October 7th. I need to make a decision already! HELP!!!