Ohhhh, Wham Bam Thank You Maam

Early voting began yesterday in Texas and I insist that you vote. I don't even care who you vote for, my political passions don't run that deep. The thing I care about is that we all realize what others have been through so that we have this opportunity; more specifically, I'm talking about women.

To make a long story short, a lot... A LOT of seriously hard core ladies worked long and hard to earn us (women) the right to vote and to be heard. Some women have bought into the lie that our vote doesn't really matter. If someone was voting on what you should name your child, or how you should cut your hair, or what man you should marry then wouldn't you want to give your opinion? Would your vote count then?

Susie B. didn't work her whole life so that we could "forget" to vote, or be too lazy to register ourselves. Our opinion, whether it be deeply informed or mildly misguided, matters. We all make a difference. ALL OF US.

So let us (women) celebrate our 88th year of voting!!! Vote now, and take your place in our Country's history.

My jeans are haunted

I bought a nice pair of jeans at American Eagle a few months back. I had finally come to grips with the fact that I couldn't squeeze myself into my size 8s and still maintain a professional look, so I took the plunge and spent $50 and some change on a pair of dark wash beauties. While I wasn't too keen on the size of them, they were working well with what they had (me).

Now, I am under the impression (because Oprah and all the fashion magazines have told me so) that dark wash jeans look fancier, thus making them a prime candidate for work week circulation. I figured I could starch them and maybe give-em-a-lil crease down the front and be good to go. No one will wonder why Sarah has been wearing jeans all week to work, they'll just ask themselves how she manages to look so effortlessly striking... this was my plan anyways.

It didn't take but a few days to realize something was - off. I wore them fresh from the store (because that's one wear minus a wash, which by my calculations puts me ahead of the laundry game). After their first wash and dry I left them crumpled in a basket for a little while (so they can mingle with my mismatched socks, wal-mart panties and Old Navy 2 for $10 tee's) before I liberated them for a pressing. I cranked the iron up to "melt your hands with the steam" which is one notch up from "burn your house down" and went to town with my spray starch to ensure a crisp, clean look for the office. Perfect. Or so I thought...

The next morning I noticed an unsightly wrinkle along the backside of the leg. Hmmm, no worries. The hanger must have mussed them up. I gave them a good steam and laid them back out. I went to put them on.... still wrinkled. Huh? So I ironed them again..... no luck. I turned them wrong side out - wrinkled. I actually set the iron on the garment for as long as I thought I could get away with..... WRINKLED. I tried to put it out of my mind, but everytime I go to wear the jeans, there it is mocking me. I have washed, ironed and starched these jeans several times since, but that one spot will. not. stay. ironed.

There is only one explanation: my jeans are haunted. Apparently my $50 bought me a pair of jeans and a wrinkle ghost. If anyone knows of a good exorcist, I'm in the market.