Cerulean and White: A near death experience

I almost died twice while taking these outfit pictures.  I had a witty blog entry in my head connecting cerulean and "The Devil Wear's Prada," but then life happened and I nearly died. 

First, I found out the hard way that my Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L is too heavy for my rinky-dink, old tripod. I almost died watching my camera dip down in slow motion. I'm pretty sure I out sprinted Usain Bolt because I'm still not sure how I got to my camera in time before it tipped over and fell to the ground. Of course I did this while wearing a white skirt and four inch heels.  You know those stories about women who lift cars off of trapped kids during times of crisis? I think it was one of those type of moments because my camera gear is my baby. 

So after the first brush with death, when my heart almost exploded, I marched inside and found my old kit lens for my camera.  I actually toyed with selling that thing and I'm glad I didn't.  Clearly until I upgrade to a cooler tripod for self-portraits the kit lens is the only one I'm putting on the camera.  

Five minutes later I took this picture: 

and thirty seconds after the shutter closed on this picture a stupid squirrel ran into my yard and that prompted Jax and Jewels to tear across the yard after the squirrel.  Jax, my beloved clumsy boy, took the most direct path he could take to the squirrel and that path happened to include the exact location of my freshly setup tripod.  He's also the same dog that will run into a wall in order to come down with a tennis ball which means I shouldn't be surprised that he took out a tripod. 

The camera actually hit dirt this time around. I'm going to take back every negative thing I've ever said about the previous owners of my house and how they made my backyard into one massive sandpit.  Sand is soft - very, very, very soft. It just so happened that my tripod slowly shifted in the sand and then gently landed on its side. 

At this point I don't know why I didn't call it a night and start drinking wine. It's probably because I wasn't wearing a single item of black and needed to document that for all prosperity's sake. Let's be honest, that's NOT happening again any time soon. 

Pups went inside and I took this outfit-post-party to the deck for some more sure footing.

I had to give this white skirt another run for its money before Labor Day comes and ruins the whole white thing.  Can I claim that I live south of the Mason Dixon Line and the "no white after Labor Day" rule doesn't apply? 

Top: Anne Klein // Skirt: Banana Republic // Belt: Unknown (borrowed from the hubs!) // Shoes: Tod's (scored for $29.97 at BlueFly.com) // Purse: Kate Spade // Sunnies: Cole Haan // Necklace: Stella & Dot // Watch: Citzen's Eco Drive // Bracelet: BaubleBar

Random sidebar: I need to stop thinking of my hair as in the "growing out phase."  I feel like I just chopped it into a bob a few days ago, when actually that happened in January... of 2011.  I've been stuck in this routine the past four years where I grow out my hair, chop it into a bob, grow it out, chop it into a bob, rinse, lather, and repeat. I think part of it is my belief that if I'm going to pay money to have my hair cut then I'm going to get it CUT! None of this trim crap. Cut it or go home.

This could be why I trusted only my dad to cut my hair as a kid after some horrible woman chopped it off when I was in the third grade. I don't think it was until after I graduated from high school and I donated 16 inches of my hair that I actually let someone else besides my dad cut my hair.  I'm very weird like that.

I think I need to take a friend with me to get my hair cut and have the friend be adamant to the stylist, "do not give her a bob and whatever she says do not give her bangs!"

That sounds like a solid plan. :)

Anyone have a mid-length hair style they highly recommend? Clearly I'm in the market. 

Thus concludes the most random post ever. Honestly, I drank two glasses of homemade wine my neighbors brought to the pig roast  after the whole heart nearly exploding, twice, events of the evening. That could be why it's kind of random. :)