World is so cold, Part 1

Just last Sunday as I arrived at my parents' home, the air was warm as I pulled into the driveway to the sound of yard work. Dad, who just a few months ago faced death was alive and blowing leaves out of the walkway with a noisy leaf blower. I felt a sense of gratitude for his second chance at life; for more precious time together.
And these moments like that are short lived, as tragedy can be lurking around any corner.
I feel like I survived a plane crash and as I walked away from the wreckage...I was hit by a speeding train.
To quote the bad guy in the Will Ferrell/Mark Wahlberg movie, The Other Guys: "I think the best way to tell the story is by starting at the end, briefly, then going back to the beginning, and then periodically returning to the end, maybe giving different characters' perspectives throughout. Just to give it a bit of dynamism, otherwise it's just sort of a linear story."
To begin...

It doesn't seem real... The "rest in peace," the " '99-'16"... They say a 17-year-old boy was killed while riding in a car driven by his older brother Justin, who lost control of the vehicle on a highway in New Jersey. Also in the car was Justin's girlfriend and their two young boys. They were on their way back to NH after a road trip to Florida.
The boy who died was my cousin, but I stress that this was not some rando family member I saw on holidays; he was a really important person in my life and I adored him.
I have so much that I want to get out, so sue me if I go 2 fast (timing appropriate Prince reference.)
I woke up on Tues, April 19th to two text messages from my sister. As my barely cognizant brain tried to adjust, I read through the words on my screen...
"car accident"
"Justin, Jesse, the boys"
"critical condition"
"Jesse...is really bad."
Bad news never sinks in right away. It's as if a part of my mind wants to keep me from pain and goes into denial mode, stopping me from seeing the truth. When my dad came home from the hospital in Boston having not yet had surgery, my mind told me "he's coming home; therefore he's ok."
I moved to the couch and frantically typed "NJ car accident" into Google on my laptop, tightly gripping my coffee mug.
I clapped my hand over my mouth as my jaw dropped in horror. Not much for details, but photos of an emergency helicopter, ambulances, and wreckage. Among these pictures was one showing the underside of my overturned 2001 Subaru Outback...the one which had been given to Jesse after I got my new car months earlier.
Critical condition. I got up and threw on some clothes. To me, "critical condition" meant "not dead." I guess I thought that I could escape fate by refusing to acknowledge the facts. If I just go about my day like normal, everything would be all right. In a fog, I got ready for work, and before I walked out the door, grabbed this picture from atop the bureau in my room:

I have very few actual photos displayed in my home and this is one of them. Not a great look for me, I know. In 2002, my sister took this picture of Jesse and I during one of the many afternoons we spent with him. When I arrived, I placed it on my desk at school where it sat for only a short time before my mother called. I excused myself from the classroom to talk in the hallway.
Mom and her brother Tim left in the middle of the night to bring my aunt Jen to New Jersey to be with her sons. My mom was calling me from the hospital.
"Erica," she said in a serious tone. "He's been pronounced brain dead. He's gone."
That's when I finally understood it. I somehow managed to go back into the classroom (I haven't mentioned it this year, but I work with a beautiful little kindergarten girl with select mutism.) I told her that I had to go and gave her the bubbles that I had for her to bring out to recess. I went to the office and told the principal that my cousin was dead and I was leaving, not sure when I'd be back. I dashed out to my car and just made it into the driver's seat before breaking down into heart wrenching sobs. Through a barrage of ugly tears, I made the short drive to my parents' house to see my sister.
I'll stop here for now and continue tomorrow where I take anyone who happens to be reading this back to the late '90s, where this story begins.
And while we're back in time, I've selected a sad af song from that time period as I like to connect blog posts with songs: It's "Gone Away" by the Offspring.

Oh great. When I tried to embed a video, I couldn't use the official Vevo version. Here's a lyrics video instead of the sweet 1997 era vid. This one.

False alarm on the springtime; it got all cold and snowy again

Do you know what happened last week? It freaking snowed. I do hate to discuss the weather so frequently but it is quite relevant to this thing I do. With the outfits and the sewing and such.
A few posts back, I was talking about a blue dress that I wanted to wear, but could not because the temps were around 60.

Oh god, even the photo editing couldn't save my face here. No makeup=bad

See that dress up there? I got it at one of the last 50% sales at Savers and it's made out of some (artificial?) woolly material. But don't you like the lumberjack plaid? Here's what's wrong:

Those damn sleeves. Why do I keep encountering them? Stop gathering the sleeve holes, you jerks; I don't want poof sleeves ever. Also, the pockets stick out and there are large belt loops with no belt.
Behold: I messed around with the sleeves and added a shiny vinyl belt with matching shoes. 

Look! It's above the knee! By the way, I did nothing with the pockets because they're fine once belt is added to the equation.

Oh, I did this new thing where instead of taking 100 pics and being picky, I just took a few. So, I'm not as happy.
I got mad blue dresses! This post is a two-for! Two dresses in this post. A short post...and this one's a no-sew.

Look at all that thick blue fabric. So warm...every part of me is covered in soft coziness. I can't wear that though.

That's what I took off with a brand new pair of fabric scissors while sitting at my parents' house. That's all? Let's see what it looks like.

I did it! It's a wearable dress, using only scissors. I trimmed additional material off the neckline, btw. Then the obvious: the ol' belt sash made from the trimmed off length.

But, wait! There's a third thing! It's a goddamn three-for! That necklace! It's a button necklace...
I did not make the button necklace. Ring the shame bell.

First, I got that at Hobby Lobby. I am a feminist, and I don't like their anti-birth control stance. My uncle got me a gift card for Christmas and was like, "use at your own risk, it's a bad company!" Deals before beliefs, we say. Look, $.75.
It's the ultimate in slacker DIY! It looks like something awesomely handmade, but isn't. Also, it's only part of the necklace. If you want to wear that thing as a necklace, you gotta DIY. They also sell a ribbon. Which was also on sale. Which I bought and used.
I did however do a little hacking. One of the buttons is vaguely flower shaped and pink. I changed it out for one in a green color!

Ta Da!