Winona Ryder turned 40 today. This isn’t really a big deal. At all. But when I read the news, the warm-and-fuzzies took over. She was probably my original girl crush.

Little Women

When I was 11 years old, I watched my favorite novel (in the whole wide world) come to life on the big screen. Thus began my Bale obsession and Ryder crush.

I still identify with Jo March, the writer who “marches” to a slightly unconventional beat. (Someone asked me about my job-security strategy the other day. Would I consider going the full-time-with-benefits corporate route? Just for stability? Um, no. Because I like my soul and have no intentions of selling it.)

InStyle

In high school, I bought my first fashion magazine, an issue of InStyle with a Winona feature inside. There she was, in all her pixie-haired glory, modeling gorgeous vintage dresses from her own collection.

I STILL want this:

Allure

Also in high school, I’d sit on my bedroom floor and sketch. I sketched this Allure cover. Because…those EYES.

Kevyn Aucoin

The above Allure magazine introduced me to Kevyn Aucoin, the makeup guru who taught me how to “make a face.”

He did this:

And this:

Ageless

This is Winona modeling in an Elle magazine spread — THIS YEAR. She’s still smokin’. Even after decades of literally smoking.

Frozen. In. Time.

Happy birthday, Winona. Thanks for being Spock’s mom.

*Johnny Depp has had a “Winona Forever” tattoo on his arm. When they broke up, he had it altered to say “Wino Forever.” How droll.

“Are you wearing your hair up? Down? Half up? Twisted into Princess Leia buns? Crimped? French-braided UPSIDE DOWN?!”

Um….

I. Don’t. Know.

BUT if I opt for a hood instead of a veil, I won’t have to make those sort of decisions.

Too bad I’d look like I got lost on the way to a costume party.

My dress is soooo not art deco.

Never mind.

But you should totally wear it at your hypothetical 1920s-themed wedding, dear hypothetical Clara Bow-obsessed reader.

[source]

Ever wonder what English sounds like to those who don’t speak the language?

Now you know.

You’re welcome.

JACK KELLY: So this snooty mug says to me, “You can’t see Mr. Pulitzer. No one sees Mr. Pulitzer.” Real hoity-toity, you know the type?

Newsies: At the Paper Mill Playhouse

I want to go to there.

Newsies: On the View

Sadly, without Batman.

Newsies: Dancing to Lady Gaga

Newsies: Batman in New York

His face is what my high-school locker looked like. True story.

I was going to be an annoying smart aleck and ask you if you’d rather be naked or famous. Um…I don’t think I want to know.

Last night, Matt, Dave, Bridget and I saw The Naked and Famous play at The Phoenix.

They. Were. Awesome.

Even though The Phoenix flooded mid-show. (Sewage? Burst beer tap? Pipe issues? Who knows.)

And even though a total stranger (female) stroked my cheek. (Um, there’s a guy’s hand resting on my hip. You’re probably barking up the wrong no-girls-allowed tree. But whatevs.)

Girls Like You

This might be my new favorite love song. Warning: I’m especially vulnerable to all things lovey-dovey these days. It’s ridonculous.

Young Blood

The sold-out crowd erupted during the “Young Blood” encore. This song — and this band — is a pretty big deal, folks.

I wore skinny jeans. If you can’t beat the hipsters, join ‘em.

I voted.

I hope you did, too.

Thoughts from the polls:

Grrr….

Voting stresses me out. I feel like I’m choosing a boyfriend for who his parents are. I might love my local candidate but not-quite-love the provincial leader. What’s a girl to do? STRESS!

(It’s science.)

Full disclosure: I went with the local guy. Because he affects me personally. And he co-founded War Child Canada.

Itchy Ovaries

I voted at a neighbourhood public school. Little kids were running around on the playground, doing super-cute things, wearing super-cute outfits and laughing super-cutely. Inside, super-cute little tables and super-cute little chairs made me giddy. As did the super-cute artwork on the walls.

I suddenly wanted my own super-cute play thing.

Then I realized that I should probably wait to have kids until I no longer consider them “play things.”

But…still. Sigh.

Empty

No one was there. There wasn’t a single person in line ahead of me. While this was delightfully convenient, it was also concerning. I HOPE EVERYONE VOTES AFTER WORK.

Also, if people don’t vote, I hope my vote wins.

That’s how it works, right?

Things I want to do before I get married:

Purge

I have too much stuff. Not all of it should make it to “Life Stage: Awesome.” Goodwill, get ready…for wigs, a Hawaiian sarong and a puppy-dog-print fleece bathrobe.

Organize

The stuff I’m not ditching needs a system. Especially boy-unfriendly stuff. Like makeup and jewelry. It’s everywhere. Beauty chaos.

Embrace the slow-cooker

I have a dream. That dream is to come home from church on a cold rainy Sunday to the deliciousness lazy comfort of ready-for-us soup or chili. Then Matt will watch football and I will nap beside him. Bliss.

My dreams often involve making food for Matthew. I think this is why he’s marrying me.

Note: These oatmeal cookie pancakes are highly recommended. Joy the Baker KNOWS WHAT SHE’S DOING. (And I was all grumpy about eating carbs that day. They cured such grumpiness with their cinnamon-raisin goodness.)

Learn to do my hair

Um. I have a lot of hair. It has three modes: 1. all down, 2. front section pinned back with a bobby pin or two, 3. ponytail.

It’s time to finally switch things up and actually start playing with the Mufasa.

Get fit

Well, it’s already week two of this pursuit. Matt and I are going to the gym FIVE TIMES A WEEK. At a super-miserable 7:00 IN THE MORNING. And…I’m kinda loving it.

I feel a little more alive already. For someone who sits for a living, the introduction to movement is a much-needed thing.

Right reason for going: I want stronger bones, better posture and more energy.

Real reason for going: I want to look like Catwoman. (Slightly kidding. But we’re using Harley Pasternak’s Five Factor Fitness program. And he trains Halle Berry. Um, and Seth Rogen….)

The moral of Mario’s story:

[link]

This week, I purchased two pairs of jeans.

These ones:

You may have noticed that the legs are the opposite of wide.

If you know me, you know this is a HUGE deal.

For the last, oh, I don’t know, 8 years or so, I’ve been the wide-legged girl. At their skinniest, my pants were bootcut.

I cringed at the skinny craze. Partly because I cringed at my body. Partly because they didn’t seem practical.

Then I quit my job, went super-broke and stopped buying clothes. And now that I’m in a healthier place financially (and body image-ly), I’m faced with rebuilding a worn-out wardrobe.

My once-cool trouser jeans are now faded, baggy and shapeless.

So I was confronted with that age-old question: “Do I slim down or stick with my comfort zone jeans?”

My famous-and-Nadine-style-friendly inspiration(s):

So my legs are now significantly skinnier than you’ve ever seen them. You have been warned.

P.S. The Gap has free delivery. When you know your size, this is a wonderful, beautiful thing.

Um, so it’s not YouTube Tuesday. I didn’t blog yesterday. Because I got distracted by Parenthood.

Parenthood is not only the best (non-Downton Abbey) drama on TV, it’s also my new music guru.

Last night, it introduced me to Daniel Martin Moore.

When “It Is Well” started playing near the end of the episode, I got way too excited. (Ask Beth.)

Last year, Parenthood introduced me to my married-couple crush, the blogged-about-too-often Drew Holcomb and the Neighbours. To this song specifically. It FINALLY has an official music video.

And the theme song just makes me so freakin’ happy. Yay, Bob Dylan.