…Round-Up: What (Not) to Wear

Well, folks, the round-up is a little sparse this week, at least as far as audience/blogger-contributed submissions go, but there are some good ones, including a few classics. Thanks to the magic of the internet, I’ve also brought in a few notes on clothing that popped up this week on their own…

The Classics:

From the archives at Four Globetrotters comes the heartwarming blushingly embarrassing story of the Skirt Suit and the SUV. Four Globetrotters has only been contributing to the blog-world since October, but her hilarious stories (and brutally sad ones) have earned her a loyal following and many reposts. If you haven’t read all her archives, you totally need to. Now.

Alex, at Travel Orders, is also all about the Pant Suit, and her post is a helpful guide for soon-to-be A-100’ers who just spent 4 years of their lives living in pajama pants, or anyone in need of a little guidance in the “what to wear” department. (There’s also some funny gender confusion in the comments, but suffice it to say that Pant Suits are appropriate for both men and women, dresses might not be.)

New Insights:

Lauren (what a lovely name that is… gee, I’ve got to get me a name like that.) at Global Geraghtys has learned a lesson that I often forget, visitors seem to arrive at the door much more often when you’re wearing PJ’s at noon, or, in my case, when you’ve just spilled spaghetti sauce all over yourself. Check out her post for a collection of stories on how what she wore “under” didn’t stay that way.

Becky, at Small Bits, brings us back to the little things… Little things that get eaten by the dryer. Yes, those pesky socks! One of the good things about her upcoming post? It’s a sockless wonderland! No more matching! No more piles of loners! (Did you know that “Lost Sock Memorial Day” is May 9?)

The Rest:

Perhaps we’re all too busy dealing with the month of holiday madness and end-of-the year duties that is December, but there were a few posts out there on the subject of clothes that didn’t get submitted. However, I am a loyal user of Google Reader, which is even searchable for specific terms like “wear,” “clothes,” or “shoes.” And here’s some results:

From “my last name is not cordaro,” a lament that knowing your next post is tropical means not buying cute winter sweaters this year, and the terrors of stock-piling a Consumables shipment.

Jen, who definitely has other things on her mind, tells us about what it’s like at WolfTrap in the winter. Let’s just say, it’s not balmy. Hats and gloves don’t even cut it.

Masha at Where to Next also had a wardrobe malfunction related to the weather this week, check out her solution!

And, last, if you didn’t put out your shoes on December 6th this year, don’t forget next year! Why? Candy! (Thanks Terry!)

Next week’s theme is “Joyous Celebrations” and hosted by Nomads by Nature, get on over there!

…language exams

Mr. Adventure took his end-of-course language exams this week and passed with flying colors, exceeding the requirements for his upcoming post. He’s one inch away from a 3/3 and they recommend he do a few more weeks of one hour classes while he’s in another course and then retest before we go. He agreed, even though they start at 7:30 am. More power to him, those early mornings are not my style.

To celebrate, he checked himself in for some surgery at the local hospital and we’ve been sitting on the couch watching movies to recouperate. He looks a little bit pathetic with his big bandage, but he’ll fit right in at FSI when he gets back. That place is a rehab center, everyone seems to get their elective surgeries and major accidents out of the way while they’re stateside between posts. You can’t turn around without seeing someone in a cast or sling.

We made some last minute plans to head out to the beach at the end of next week, and got one of the last rooms available in Ocean City. Supposedly the place is supremely tacky touristy, like Dollywood at the beach, so I am excited to visit. I gotta love me some tacky touristy stuff.

…language classes

I started language classes at FSI last week. Supposedly, these are “survival” classes, since they only meet for one hour per day. So far, we’ve predominantly learned the unusual letters of the language. Thankfully the class meets for several weeks, because, if I had to survive on what I know so far, I could thank a lot of people, and tell them I am American, but little else. This is one _complicated_ alphabet.

The FSI language courses meet in hundreds of small rooms in a giant building. As you walk in the hallway, you might hear someone shout a greeting in Portuguese while passing a trio speaking something which sounds like it is  probably from central Asia, but might be an obscure dialect of anywhere. It’s a bit of a Babel.

My language lessons will increase by a factor of 5 (though I may drop the survival class) next week because I will be starting the official language class. As a spouse, I am eligible to take language classes on a space-available basis, and thankfully, someone is starting their language training as an employee, so there is room for me. Hopefully I’ll be able to say even more exciting things next week. Maybe I’ll be able to ask for the bathroom and a taxi.