Slice of Pink

Honeysuckle

I stuck a new banner up there last week or so and thought I ought to explain myself since a couple of y'all emailed asking what was up with the honeysuckle reference.

Apparently, every year there is a color selected as the official color of the year. Pantone, the world-renowned authority on color, gets the honor of choosing the official color and, for 2011, the official color is honeysuckle.

Also known as pink.

It didn't take us here at Slice of Pink (us, of course, being me and Will) until 2011 to realize that pink was, as Pantone says, "a captivating, stimulating color." Pantone goes on to say:

A dynamic reddish pink, Honeysuckle is encouraging and uplifting. It elevates our psyche beyond escape, instilling the confidence, courage and spirit to meet the exhaustive challenges that have become part of everyday life.

This is far more thought than I ever really put into the topic, but alrighty.

And, thus, the banner.

The whole deal reminds me of this chart from the funny guys at Doghouse Diaries:

These Girls Know What's Up

Lauren

Thinking Pink

I wish the Pink Prank Project had happened to me!

And, from my friend Dana, this bit which proves that women really do prefer pink.

Viva Piñata

Will and I will be celebrating Valentine's Day at Robotics this year because, as it currently stands, the robot is eight pounds overweight. We have exactly one week to take off eight pounds worth of metal most of which is necessary to the functionality of the robot.

(I am also eight pounds overweight from eating the endless supply of pizza, cookies, and soda provided for us by the parents of the students who feel sorry that we are stuck with their kids until well past midnight.)

I also celebrated my birthday at Robotics. The kids threw me a little surprise party in one of the classrooms where they blew up balloons and hung streamers and brought a cake and flowers and a pink feather boa. There was also a piñata in the middle of the room, a delightful pink unicorn with long black eyelashes. Much like the cake that I didn't want to eat because it was too pretty, I could not bear to bash up the unicorn even though it was jam-packed with candy.

As I carefully took down the unicorn from the ceiling, the kids were all laughing hysterically. They informed me that Will had told them that they could go ahead and get a piñata, but there was no way in hell that I would crack it open with a stick, especially if it was cute. It's amazing how well someone can know you.

Look who is in our dining room, still full of chocolate bars:

Takes the Cake

This cake was baked for me by two of my students, one of whom got a Kitchenaid Mixer for Christmas (is that not the cutest thing ever?). It is a chocolate cake with strawberry filling and I want to keep it forever, that's how beautiful it is. So far the bottom layer has been eaten and it was so delicious that the top two layers probably won't make it past tomorrow.

Here's to the Crazy Ones

Heather Armstrong's recent commentary on The Dog Whisperer and an "angry Maltese who was possessive of his food":

The Maltese’s entire body had been dyed hot pink, and its owner was a woman who dressed in nothing but pink clothing — pink dresses, pink pants, pink shoes — and her apartment was decorated in nothing but pink furniture and pink knick knacks including a pink television set and a pink refrigerator. For someone who lives in Los Angeles, this is nothing out of the realm of totally normal.

The voice-over said something like, will Cesar be able to tame this beast? or something equally stupid, because D U H, Cesar always wins. If Jesus Christ had trouble with his dogs he’d call Cesar, and I’m sure he has Cesar on speed-dial just to commiserate with someone over how dumb the human race is. As I forwarded through the commercials Jon shook his head and hoped out loud, “The next segment is going to be 15 seconds long because Cesar is going to walk into that woman’s pink apartment, take one look around and say, ‘I am taking your dog away, and you are going to spend some time in a padded cell.’”

My question, I guess, is: where did the lady get the pink fridge anyway? And for how much exactly?

Sock It To Me

Hallelujah, the crazy sock chain is actually working! 10 pairs of socks have arrived in my mailbox, thanks in huge part to Kari who personally sent me six fabulous pairs of socks because she could not get any friends to participate in the crazy crazy sock scheme.

Notice a theme?

How did everyone know my favorite color anyhow?

The Ethics of Pink

The pink, it has led me to a place of ethical dilemma, and I have not chosen the path of righteousness. I have chosen the path of pink, people. I have no shame.

Because I have about 95 percent Seniors who will be graduating in June, I needed to order a cap and gown so that I can participate in the graduation ceremony. I picked up the order form and filled in all the necessary information.

As I was finishing up the form, my neighbor teacher stopped by and, when I told him what I was doing, he informed me that he never participates in the graduation ceremony because he only has a Bachelor’s degree. Having myself only a Bachelor’s degree, I asked that he articulate on the issue.

Since a majority of the teachers on campus have Master’s degrees, they all wear hoods with their graduation regalia (when you graduate with a Bachelor’s degree, you wear a black robe; when you graduate with a Master’s degree you get the black robe PLUS a colored hood, the color denoting your field of study). Apparently, there is always one lone ranger teacher wearing the black robe without a hood and, amongst all the colored hoods, it looks like he forgot part of his regalia.

Not one to be left out, and certainly not one to look underdressed, I simply crossed out Bachelor’s and bubbled in Master’s.

I then went to my university’s website to check out what color hood I would need to align with my field of study, History of Art and Architecture. I found the list of colors and found my major color, white.

As I filled in the form requesting a white hood, my neighbor teacher asked, “Don’t you want to be a Media Arts major?”

“No. Why?”

“Don’t you want to be a Media Arts major?” he repeated, nodding toward the computer screen.

And there it was:

Major: Media Arts

Hood Color: Pink

Why, yes, I think I will. So I scratched out the truth (Bachelor's, History of Art) and filled in a lie (Master's, Media Arts) and, assuming they don't, like, look it up or anything, I will be absolutely fabulous at graduation.

For the Love of Pink

My friends, they are fabulous. I got this bottle of Pink champagne from Lauren. I don't think I should drink anything else. Well, except maybe Dom Perignon, but obviously only if Pink is unavailable.

And from Kathryn, a pink box filled with lots of pink goodies like this:

and this:

And stacks of other wonderfully pink surprises. Fabulous, fabulous friends who value the joy of pink.

After the jump, I answer one of those questionnaires, courtesy of Mr. Honeydew. I give very lame and uncreative answers to the questions because, for some reason, whenever I am asked to do one of these surveys I cannot, for the life of me, think of a single answer. Give me a survey and I will not remember my favorite color, let alone my top three favorite songs. I racked my brain for these obvious answers...

Forecast: Rain, Fame

Canada! After spending a night in the smallest town possible—and by smallest town possible I mean, there was one ten-room hotel, obviously without internet, and one pub and that pretty much sums the whole place—we have arrived at our northernmost destination, Vancouver.

We spent two days in Seattle where we went on a tour, bought some clothes, and where I, people, was recognized in Pioneer Square. Of course, I had no idea that I was being recognized and my hair was surely frizzy from the humidity and I was probably complaining about the cold and most likely I was gawking like an idiot at a brick building. Not so much in the way of humidity, cold, and bricks in California. Andy Warhol said that we all get 15 minutes of fame and I think I probably ruined mine staring at a map.

Elizabeth, fabulous and wonderful Elizabeth who I have never met, sent me an email saying that she reads SoPink and recognized me in Pioneer Square. See:

Hi Janet:
I have no idea how I ended up reading your blog, but I have for many months...and then today I actually saw you in Pioneer Square walking with Will at about 1:15. I was coming out of my office which is right there on 1st avenue and there you were. That kind of stuff always seems so weird to me....
Happy Holidays
Elizabeth

Elizabeth, I love you.

I have a Jacuzzi tub in my room tonight because, hello, I am a staaaaaar.

I was going to upload some pictures for you all, but I left the cable in the car and the keys are with the valet. I would totally send someone out to get the cable for me but I don’t want to go and get all diva (diva-y? divafied?). No, Slice of Pink will always remain modest and humble.

Supahstar. Su.Pah.Star. Tomorrow, dah-lings, I buy these.

Hair, There, and Everywhere

There was huge sale at Dillard’s where I bought this Max Studio coat for 75% off with an additional 40% off, bringing it to under $50. They call it “lilac” but, really? It’s pink.

While I was buying the jacket (and the dress and the shoes), I saw one of my students. And my hair? It did not look good.

At 10 o’clock at night, after shopping and after totally jacking up the polenta and after still not fixing my hair, we went to a little burger shop to get a grilled cheese sandwich and our waitress? One of my students. Again.

You’d think I’d have learned my lesson but I went to Target today right after I got out of the shower, without fixing my hair, and this time guess who I saw?

No, not a student.

Worse.

I saw my hairdresser. Gasp.

That’s it. From now on, I will do my hair to take out the trash. Seriously.

15 Grand

When I said that the Quinceanera we were invited to would probably cost more than our wedding, I was kinda joking. But, y'all, the party last night was off. the. hook.

Being all about the pink, I was just dazzled. I have never seen so much tulle, chiffon, and glitter squeezed into one place at one time, and all of it pink! You know, I am not one for the flashy and the flamboyant, but if you're gonna go glitzy, you might as well go glitzy all. the. way.

There was food. There were free drinks. There was a cake that was actually 7 cakes conjoined by tiny columns and tiny plastic staircases. There were choreographed dances. There were about one million pink balloons and an equal number of pink chiffon bows. There were two bouncers who stopped admitting people when the club met the maximum occupancy of 400 people.

Off the hook, I tell you. Off. the. hook.