Ferris wheels
Coke and cherry ICEEs
Flowers
Shorts
Sandals
Sleep
What will you all miss most about summer?
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Summer Playlist
These were the albums I listened to most this summer! Let me tell you, it was a season filled with ear candy! I'm always looking for new music to love so if you have any suggestions, please let me know!
Monday, August 15, 2011
Hair Cut, Nails Did
For awhile now, I had been contemplating chopping it all off. I used to laugh at the girls who would cry when they had to get haircuts. But once I decided I was going to go for something entirely different, my stomach started flip-flopping and I would look at girls with long hair in envy, even though I still had mine.
Well, today I walked into the salon, sat down, and the lady started playing with my hair.
"Just a trim?"
"No, an angular bob."
...
"Noooooo! That's so much hair! I can't believe you're gonna make me do that!"
The cutting process wasn't as painful as I'd expected and I actually liked what I saw when it was all over. I feel so much lighter, cleaner, and sophisticated.
Afterward, I got a pedicure and now my toes are ready for the new school year in a shiny dark gray. Woot!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Summer Reading List
For anyone who cares to know, these were the books that kept me turning the pages all summer long... I loved every one of them!
You Jump, I Jump Jack
Here are the photos of my thrifting finds I promised! I found these beauts at my local Peddler's Mall. In addition to tons of cute vintage furniture and dishes, they had gorgeous brooches that I was drooling over. One looked like a sunburst but it cost $60 which I wasn't willing to dish out at the time. I was, however, more than excited to score my vintage 1950's gloves, black beaded bag, and Coach belt for a little over $20.
I found this black lace dress at Plato's Closet after seeing a movie and getting Indian food with my friend Leslie, whom I was lucky enough to room with in London! It was originally $30 and I got it for 8 bones... woo, 75% off!
These are my local Goodwill finds! A skinny black belt with an interesting clasp (80's-ish looking?), my RALPH LAUREN BLUE JEAN DRESS!! (Must have it altered soon to knee-length), a silk scarf that will look cute at Christmas-time, a velvet burgundy blazer (AKA the Oscar Wilde coat), and a cute tie-dye tee!
Seriously.
I think I may go watch Titanic now because I'm a bit obsessed with Rose's costumes. And I think Kate Winslet is gorgeous and so cute with her British-ness. I told Scott I was going to watch Titanic before school started. "The Titanic sank in 1912. And that's the same year Virginia Woolf got married! She was thirty! So the clothes they wear in the movie are similar to what life was really like when Virginia Woolf lived!"
"Don't have a nerd-gasm," he said.
But really, I love the transition from Victorianism to the Modern era. Rose feels trapped in her Victorian lifestyle and breaks free as a Modern woman! Ah! This is the kind of nerdy thing I live for!
P.S. I never got one of those fake heart-of-the-ocean necklaces when they were popular in the late 90's. My birthday's coming up if any one needs any last minute shopping ideas... you know, if those things still exist.
Friday, August 12, 2011
The U.S. Credit Rating and My Obsession with Vintage
"When are you going to write a new blog post?" my boyfriend Scott asked me the other day.
That made me smile. To know that there are people out there that actually read this thing. The way I've abandoned it in favor of inward contemplation has been a source of bittersweet feelings. Sometimes it's nice to just have thoughts to yourself. But other times you just want to bear your soul to the world. And you want to catalog your time here on Earth; have something to look back on when you can barely remember what it was like to be 21.
"I don't know what to write about," I said.
"Write about the debt crisis."
"You know, I think I could make that work. And I could put a personal spin on it."
Here goes: The day I found out the U.S. credit rating was lowered, my heart sank in sadness. Although I think the current administration has certainly had its ups and downs, I've always been a supporter of Obama, especially his plans to mandate more fuel-efficient cars. I couldn't help but feel frustrated. How could this happen? America used to be the economy that other countries used to look up to for guidance, assistance, and example. Where has this money gone? Into the pockets of Congress members who are exempt from budget cuts, 401K dips, and our uncertain economic future.
I guess I wouldn't be so frustrated if every single American citizen were affected by this loss. If the president, Congress, HoR, etc. had to worry about their retirement money, their children's future college tuition, and IRA funds then I feel like a lot more would be getting done to solve our monetary issues. It would directly affect them, their families. It's easy for someone to say, "We don't need to fall back on our debt; it's not a big deal that the credit rating has been lowered; it's still high compared to other countries" when their piggy banks haven't been shattered in an effort to scrounge together a few coins to pay the bills. When did it become okay to compare ourselves to other countries? Sure, we're fine compared to Zimbabwe but why don't we hold ourselves responsible?
When it comes to sin, eternity, afterlife and all that heavy stuff I used to look to other people and think, "Well, at least I don't do that." It took awhile for me to look solely at myself and become my only earthly judge. It doesn't matter if I'm not doing something someone else does, because I have my own downfalls that a lot of people can't see. And just because they can't see doesn't mean it's not there. It's hard sometimes to hold ourselves accountable but in the end, we are the only people who can live our lives.
That being said, I want to jazz this site up. I want to have fun with it like I used to. I've been obsessed with a blog called What I Wore by Jessica Quirk and it makes me want to include a bit of what she does into my own blog. She's taken a photo of the outfit she wore everyday since 2007. Now, it's not quite logical for me to take a picture every day because let's be honest, I'm wearing sweatpants, a tank top, and day's old hair today. But I really think it would be special to include some outfits I'm proud of, outfits to celebrate special occasions, that way I'll be able to look back on the day and see how I looked.
I've been getting into thrifting a lot lately and I even went to a peddler's mall with my boyfriend (what a guy!). On that trip I found a brown leather Coach belt for $4.99, a pair of white vintage gloves from the 1950's (that the sales lady called 'dainty...' "I bet you have the perfect dress picked out already. You're so pretty!" she said), and an antique black beaded purse. I also found a black lace dress for 75% off at Plato's closet on Tuesday and yesterday's trek to Goodwill yielded me with a green, purple, and blue tie-dye shirt, a velvet burgundy blazer, a vintage-looking scarf (looks like it's from the 80's but there are no tags), a skinny black belt, and THE BEST FIND EVER: a blue jean Ralph Lauren dress. I have to have it altered because it's ankle-length and above-the-knee is more my style. Otherwise, the fit is perfect, it's lightweight, the perfect color and all I've ever dreamed of in my hunt for the perfect blue jean dress. And it was only $5!!!
Perhaps I'll post some pictures of my finds soon. For now, stay tuned and thanks to your avid support!
That made me smile. To know that there are people out there that actually read this thing. The way I've abandoned it in favor of inward contemplation has been a source of bittersweet feelings. Sometimes it's nice to just have thoughts to yourself. But other times you just want to bear your soul to the world. And you want to catalog your time here on Earth; have something to look back on when you can barely remember what it was like to be 21.
"I don't know what to write about," I said.
"Write about the debt crisis."
"You know, I think I could make that work. And I could put a personal spin on it."
Here goes: The day I found out the U.S. credit rating was lowered, my heart sank in sadness. Although I think the current administration has certainly had its ups and downs, I've always been a supporter of Obama, especially his plans to mandate more fuel-efficient cars. I couldn't help but feel frustrated. How could this happen? America used to be the economy that other countries used to look up to for guidance, assistance, and example. Where has this money gone? Into the pockets of Congress members who are exempt from budget cuts, 401K dips, and our uncertain economic future.
I guess I wouldn't be so frustrated if every single American citizen were affected by this loss. If the president, Congress, HoR, etc. had to worry about their retirement money, their children's future college tuition, and IRA funds then I feel like a lot more would be getting done to solve our monetary issues. It would directly affect them, their families. It's easy for someone to say, "We don't need to fall back on our debt; it's not a big deal that the credit rating has been lowered; it's still high compared to other countries" when their piggy banks haven't been shattered in an effort to scrounge together a few coins to pay the bills. When did it become okay to compare ourselves to other countries? Sure, we're fine compared to Zimbabwe but why don't we hold ourselves responsible?
When it comes to sin, eternity, afterlife and all that heavy stuff I used to look to other people and think, "Well, at least I don't do that." It took awhile for me to look solely at myself and become my only earthly judge. It doesn't matter if I'm not doing something someone else does, because I have my own downfalls that a lot of people can't see. And just because they can't see doesn't mean it's not there. It's hard sometimes to hold ourselves accountable but in the end, we are the only people who can live our lives.
That being said, I want to jazz this site up. I want to have fun with it like I used to. I've been obsessed with a blog called What I Wore by Jessica Quirk and it makes me want to include a bit of what she does into my own blog. She's taken a photo of the outfit she wore everyday since 2007. Now, it's not quite logical for me to take a picture every day because let's be honest, I'm wearing sweatpants, a tank top, and day's old hair today. But I really think it would be special to include some outfits I'm proud of, outfits to celebrate special occasions, that way I'll be able to look back on the day and see how I looked.
I've been getting into thrifting a lot lately and I even went to a peddler's mall with my boyfriend (what a guy!). On that trip I found a brown leather Coach belt for $4.99, a pair of white vintage gloves from the 1950's (that the sales lady called 'dainty...' "I bet you have the perfect dress picked out already. You're so pretty!" she said), and an antique black beaded purse. I also found a black lace dress for 75% off at Plato's closet on Tuesday and yesterday's trek to Goodwill yielded me with a green, purple, and blue tie-dye shirt, a velvet burgundy blazer, a vintage-looking scarf (looks like it's from the 80's but there are no tags), a skinny black belt, and THE BEST FIND EVER: a blue jean Ralph Lauren dress. I have to have it altered because it's ankle-length and above-the-knee is more my style. Otherwise, the fit is perfect, it's lightweight, the perfect color and all I've ever dreamed of in my hunt for the perfect blue jean dress. And it was only $5!!!
Perhaps I'll post some pictures of my finds soon. For now, stay tuned and thanks to your avid support!
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Circle
I feel like a lot of times people run from the truth. Or they just keep running in circles because they don't actually know what the truth is. I haven't experienced much loss in my life. I've always had a nice home, I've never had the hands of God take someone from me who was too young to die, and even when things got "tough" they were never really that bad. I feel like my parents spoiled me even though in my youth I would complain about other kids having Barbie cars and airplanes, family vacations every summer, and new lunchboxes with ice packs shaped like flowers. No, you see, the kind of loss I've experienced isn't quite like that at all. But it exists somewhere in me and it makes my heart flutter; it makes my lips numb; and it makes my head feel heavy.
The things my parents kept from me were pretty benign. They were certain that J.K. Rowling was a witch and in turn would not allow me to read Harry Potter (though I read the first three books from my school library). I couldn't ever spend the night at a friend's house because they thought that they might have an older brother or creepy father who was up to no good. I wanted to go rollerskating on Friday nights in middle school because that's what all the cool kids did but they would never let me go any place by myself. And I guess in some respects they were right. If they hadn't been so cautious with me I might have found myself in some unwanted situations or worse, dead. So I can't really blame them.
All kids rebel against their parents in one way or another. They tell you you can't get a tattoo and you sneak off with $100 to get an angel on your right shoulder. They tell you you can't drink, not because you're underage but because you're a nice Baptist girl and nice Baptist girls don't do those sorts of things, even though they have their own modestly stocked liquor cabinet. They tell you you shouldn't have premarital sex because that's something girls with questionable morals do and you will get pregnant and ruin your whole life just like your aunt did. It's not okay to do any of these things even though they did them when they were your age, drinking, partying, smoking weed (even if it was just one time). It was stupid back then and they're just trying to protect you from making their same mistakes.
I find it easier to rebel on the inside rather than the outside. The outside frightens me because everyone can see it. I don't want to go out and party at clubs because I can't ever feel myself outside of my own body. I'm just not that free. Instead I stay at home watching Bones on DVD and reading books about organic living and vegan diets because that's something I can control. And I tell myself once I finish the last season and get done reading that last book I'll venture out into the real world. It's an endless cycle that equates the future with utopia. It's like the Christian that decides to clean up their act when they get older. Sure, they believe in God but there are certain sins that you just can't stop committing at this stage in life. One day it'll be okay though and He'll understand because you always come back to Him like a yo-yo with a string made of floss.
The rebellion I've faced has almost always been inward. And I persecute myself every I'm reminded. I've committed my share of mortal sin and I've come to God, crying and begging for forgiveness on the eve of a new year. And I know the moment I ask my sin is washed away. But I had a hard time believing that until someone once reminded me still feeling the burden was like telling God that His forgiveness wasn't worth it. That Christ dying on the cross wasn't enough for me. Still feeling guilt was like Satan having a grip on me and it was getting between me and my relationship with Christ.
I'm not certain that I know a lot of things but I act like I do. Sometimes I get lucky and I'm right; I end up helping someone out and everything's alright. But sometimes I'm just a babbling idiot who has no idea what the hell she's talking about and I lose friendships and people think they see me traveling down a morally decrepit road. Maybe they're ignorant of just how much I think about things, about how much I feel. Maybe not. Maybe I'm the ignorant one.
I feel cloudy in my mind but in the best way possible; it's allowing me to think more clearly, even if that brings pain. I try to laugh to myself saying, "The best authors were crazy" thinking maybe one day I'll create a masterpiece that in the process makes me lose my mind, my money, my relationships, my life. I try not to think about it too much.
I can't leave this room because I'm suffocating in paranoia and fear. "Why are you depressed? You shouldn't be depressed. You have everything. You get good grades. You just went to Europe. You just got a scholarship. You're pretty. You have a family that loves you and friends that invest time in you even though you don't deserve it. What are you going to do with your life?" You don't know why. You don't know how. You just know that you are. And that it makes you cry. That it makes you hate yourself and everyone around you for not understanding and leaving you alone. If you knew, you probably wouldn't be depressed. You wouldn't be on this fucking Cymbalta and you sure as hell wouldn't lose sight of life, joy, expression, happiness. You want innocence back. The anticipation of a first kiss. Childlike innocence, splendor, fulfillment, excitement, wonder.
And it's hard looking back at pictures of a smiling face you don't recognize. Yourself. Happy in the only place in the world you've been where you know no one. Maybe that's why you love it so much.
And instead of finding comfort in the thought of a foreign place, filled with people I've never met, I should be seeking out higher comfort. But I feel hypocritical, a mess. I feel like I'm running in a circle towards a truth I know, but a truth that I don't know how to find.
The things my parents kept from me were pretty benign. They were certain that J.K. Rowling was a witch and in turn would not allow me to read Harry Potter (though I read the first three books from my school library). I couldn't ever spend the night at a friend's house because they thought that they might have an older brother or creepy father who was up to no good. I wanted to go rollerskating on Friday nights in middle school because that's what all the cool kids did but they would never let me go any place by myself. And I guess in some respects they were right. If they hadn't been so cautious with me I might have found myself in some unwanted situations or worse, dead. So I can't really blame them.
All kids rebel against their parents in one way or another. They tell you you can't get a tattoo and you sneak off with $100 to get an angel on your right shoulder. They tell you you can't drink, not because you're underage but because you're a nice Baptist girl and nice Baptist girls don't do those sorts of things, even though they have their own modestly stocked liquor cabinet. They tell you you shouldn't have premarital sex because that's something girls with questionable morals do and you will get pregnant and ruin your whole life just like your aunt did. It's not okay to do any of these things even though they did them when they were your age, drinking, partying, smoking weed (even if it was just one time). It was stupid back then and they're just trying to protect you from making their same mistakes.
I find it easier to rebel on the inside rather than the outside. The outside frightens me because everyone can see it. I don't want to go out and party at clubs because I can't ever feel myself outside of my own body. I'm just not that free. Instead I stay at home watching Bones on DVD and reading books about organic living and vegan diets because that's something I can control. And I tell myself once I finish the last season and get done reading that last book I'll venture out into the real world. It's an endless cycle that equates the future with utopia. It's like the Christian that decides to clean up their act when they get older. Sure, they believe in God but there are certain sins that you just can't stop committing at this stage in life. One day it'll be okay though and He'll understand because you always come back to Him like a yo-yo with a string made of floss.
The rebellion I've faced has almost always been inward. And I persecute myself every I'm reminded. I've committed my share of mortal sin and I've come to God, crying and begging for forgiveness on the eve of a new year. And I know the moment I ask my sin is washed away. But I had a hard time believing that until someone once reminded me still feeling the burden was like telling God that His forgiveness wasn't worth it. That Christ dying on the cross wasn't enough for me. Still feeling guilt was like Satan having a grip on me and it was getting between me and my relationship with Christ.
I'm not certain that I know a lot of things but I act like I do. Sometimes I get lucky and I'm right; I end up helping someone out and everything's alright. But sometimes I'm just a babbling idiot who has no idea what the hell she's talking about and I lose friendships and people think they see me traveling down a morally decrepit road. Maybe they're ignorant of just how much I think about things, about how much I feel. Maybe not. Maybe I'm the ignorant one.
I feel cloudy in my mind but in the best way possible; it's allowing me to think more clearly, even if that brings pain. I try to laugh to myself saying, "The best authors were crazy" thinking maybe one day I'll create a masterpiece that in the process makes me lose my mind, my money, my relationships, my life. I try not to think about it too much.
I can't leave this room because I'm suffocating in paranoia and fear. "Why are you depressed? You shouldn't be depressed. You have everything. You get good grades. You just went to Europe. You just got a scholarship. You're pretty. You have a family that loves you and friends that invest time in you even though you don't deserve it. What are you going to do with your life?" You don't know why. You don't know how. You just know that you are. And that it makes you cry. That it makes you hate yourself and everyone around you for not understanding and leaving you alone. If you knew, you probably wouldn't be depressed. You wouldn't be on this fucking Cymbalta and you sure as hell wouldn't lose sight of life, joy, expression, happiness. You want innocence back. The anticipation of a first kiss. Childlike innocence, splendor, fulfillment, excitement, wonder.
And it's hard looking back at pictures of a smiling face you don't recognize. Yourself. Happy in the only place in the world you've been where you know no one. Maybe that's why you love it so much.
And instead of finding comfort in the thought of a foreign place, filled with people I've never met, I should be seeking out higher comfort. But I feel hypocritical, a mess. I feel like I'm running in a circle towards a truth I know, but a truth that I don't know how to find.
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