Awards and Tags

I was so happy to find out that Sophia gave me the "Kreativ Blogger" award. That was really sweet of her. She has an awesome blog, by the way, so definitely check it out.

And then she tagged me in a couple things, which are below.

"Show your Hearts" tag
With as much creativity as you can muster, show your heart in: 1 picture, 1 poem, 1 song/piece of music, 1 phrase or quote, 1 piece of clothing, 1 place, and (just for fun) 1 Disney princess.

Picture

(This was the first picture Rian ever took of us. I adore it because not only am I with the man I love, but we're in my favorite park. The one in the middle of the city that makes you feel like you're in the middle of nowhere. The one where life seems to disappear.)

Poem

This is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me, --
The simple news that Nature told,
With tender majesty.

Her message is committed
To hands I cannot see;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me!

-Emily Dickinson

(I have been obsessed with Dickinson for the past six years. And this poem always reminds me of that apprehension I harbor towards sharing my writing. You pour your heart onto paper...and then it's no longer yours).

Song

I will never tire of hearing "Everyday is Like Sunday" by Morrissey. It was the song that made me fall in love with him. It is the song that I turn to when I'm sad or thoughtful.

Quote
"A career is wonderful, but you can't curl up with it on a cold night."-Marilyn Monroe

Clothing

(I own a collection of white, flowing sundresses. There's something so crisp and fresh and clean about them that makes me so happy it is summer).

Place

Chicago!


Disney Princess

(Spoiled, overprotected, restless and fab. Sound familiar? Hehe).


The "Questions" Tag

Answer the questions on your blog, replace one question you dislike with a question of your own invention; add a question of your own.

What is your current obsession? Being thin
What are you wearing right now? Tight-fitting black Express shirt, CK blue jeans, and Puma tennis shoes (lame today, I know).
Who was the last person you hugged? Rian
If you were a tree, what tree would you be? Palm (I just want to be in the sun all year. Is that too much to ask?)
What’s for dinner? Nothing (see question 1)
What was the last thing you bought? The new Lily Allen CD
What is your favorite TV show? Three's Company :)
What is your favourite weather? Depends on my mood. Today I wanted it to be bright and sunny, which it was!
What’s on your beside table? jewelry box, lamp, cell phone
Say something to the person/s who tagged you: She has a fab sense of style!
If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where would you want it to be? Palm Beach (Florida)
Where are you typing from right now? my parents' house
A book you're currently reading? Shopaholic Ties the Knot
What would you like to have in your hands right now? hundred dollar bills
What is your favourite tea flavour? chai
What did you eat for breakfast? nothing (see question 1)
What did you want to become as a child? A television news reporter
What is your fantasy? Rich, gorgeous, fab, thin

I'm passing on the Kreativ Blogger award and the two tags to the following girls.

Kae Ri

Nadine

Morena

La Femme Chic

Jen

Some of you were tagged already by others, but I don't care. These tags are just basically my way of saying I think you're awesome and I love your blog.

Yay! Have a great rest of the weekend. There's not much of it left! Eep!

Dear Diary

One of my biggest regrets about my life so far is that I've never kept a diary.

And that's bizarre because writing is my life. Growing up, I always wrote short stories and did the whole school newspaper thing, of course. But for the most part, I preferred to spend my free time living life rather than writing about it.

And it's a shame because there are so many memories I want preserved, in every detail, that are slipping away from me:

My first kiss (We were 14 and I wasn't really into him, but out of curiosity let him take me to the swimming pool bleachers for a quick tongue war between classes).

My first boyfriend (His name was Jeff and we were 16 and spent every waking minute together, whether it be hiking in the woods all day or going to movies or walking around town aimlessly while planning our wedding...he is now a homosexual party boy in NYC).

My babysitting disasters (i.e. One girl smashed a wall of her house with a baseball bat because I wouldn't let her boyfriend come over and then proceeded to put her little brother in the dryer).

My college dating disasters (i.e. One guy took me out to a series of poetry readings and declared I was his soulmate, and then took off for Ireland a week later without telling me. Never heard from him again).

My first pair of Jimmy Choo heels (sigh).

And so forth.

This blog has really helped me start the diary process... I don't have the time right now to sit down and right a detailed version of every single day. But at least this helps me jot down the important events in my life and a little taste of my thoughts.

But oh how I wish I had kept one back then...I guess for now I'm just writing down all the memories I have while I still have them...

Jenny Benny

This is a shout out to my sister, Jenn.

(Okay, she's not really my sister. But a Chinese woman at the mall three years ago accidentally took us for that, so it only validates our claim that we should be).

We were socially awkward 13-year-olds who met in middle school. She was adorable and sweet and the friendliest girl at school. I was a little monster with crooked teeth and long, stringy hair who never wore the same outfit twice. I owned more pleated skirts than necessary. (My fashion Bibles at the time were Seventeen and Clueless).

We clicked instantly. We immediately declared sisterhood. We chased cute boys together. We volunteered at the library together. We took silly photography and art classes together. We shopped together. We did photo shoots together. We played Sweet Valley High board games together. And for the past eleven years, our bond has only gotten stronger.

And I have been so proud to watch her grow into a gorgeous, intelligent, and classy woman.

She is now a graduate student in Milwaukee, perfecting her vocals for when she becomes a big Broadway or Hollywood star.

We don't see each other as often as we should now, which sucks. But that's what happens when you grow up. But we see each other everyday on Facebook and talk as often as we can on the phone. And we are going to see each other this summer.

But I still miss her terribly...



Happy birthday, Jenn! I hope you have a fabulous day.

Ab fab

Okay, so I didn't have to pull a Garbo after all.
With pills galore, I managed to reduce my cold symptoms and spend a fab day with Kerrie on the town. We went fashion literature shopping, had lunch with her bad-ass boyfriend, went clothes/shoes/bags shopping, and then uploaded dorky photos to our facebook profiles.

And the best part is, despite Vogue India ($12), we didn't spend a damn thing. Yay! The entire day was perfect. (Although we did almost get kicked out of one dressing room for a minor incident involving a cigarette, camera, and excessive giggling).

We spent the afternoon shielded in Nanette Lepore, Prada, Etro, and Jimmy Choo. And we got ideas for our serious shopping trip later this spring.

My happiness will only be complete if I can get rid of this freaking cold. Sigh.

Kerrie needed leather as her boyfriend recently purchased a motorcycle


We only use dressing rooms that have chandeliers.

Blah blah blah

I had such a blah day today. And that makes me sad because it's Friday.

First, for the past two days I have had the worst flu. Yesterday I was throwing up and had a fever and sore throat.

This morning, I woke up with no fever, but my throat felt like it had razor blades in it. So Rian made me this Mexican hot cocoa, which we picked up from Little Mexico a few weeks ago. It tasted like dirt. No matter how many sugar cubes I put in it, I could not keep it from tasting like soil. And then I looked at the box and found out the dirt drink had cost me 400 calories.

And then I went out to lunch with fellow reporter friend Meredith. The pizza parlor was busy, but Meredith got her slice after 25 minutes. I eventually got mine after one hour and thirty minutes. And that was after continually asking the waiter about it. And he had the nerve to act irritated every time I asked about my pizza. And what's even more ironic is that Meredith ordered the fancy Greek slice, which has olives and feta cheese and onions, etc. Mine was just plain pepperoni. And then when I got my pizza, it was cold and gross and the crust was burnt. I still feel nauseous from it.

And my afternoon at work was miserable because I was feeling dizzy from my cold medicine and nauseous from the pizza and depressed because of my measly salary.

Oh, and then my friend, Ahmad, had the audacity to be mad at me this afternoon because I refused to pick up a package tomorrow for him at a post office 45 minutes away from my apartment and drive it an additional two hours to him in St. Joseph. Because I'm a fucking UPS delivery man, right? Hell no.

Gawd, I hope this weekend kicks ass. Or I'm going to have to pull a Garbo.

I'm back!

Finally back from Chicago. It was a whirlwind weekend but somehow I survived.

Here's how it went:

Saturday
I spent most of the night with my mom and her siblings at a trashy little redneck bar in the middle of town. They only had one kind of beer, one kind of wine, and a giant karaoke stage. But the drinks were cheap and the place was about half full. I drank five glasses of wine and cheered loudly when my mom and aunts sang drunken versions of eighties classics.

Sunday
My aunt's house was packed. It was the first time in 20 years my entire family (mom's side) had gotten together. Children were running and screaming everywhere. Snacks and sandwich food blanketed tables in every room. I got to catch up with a few cousins from Phoenix. It was awesome.



Monday
This day was a test for me. My parents decided to spend the entire day in Little India...shopping! Torture, indeed. I spent four miserable hours going shop to shop, with no money in my pocket and no credit card in my wallet. Glittery gold necklaces and shimmering bangles stared up at me. I ran my hand through the soft, silk saris decorating store aisles...hot pink...mango orange...lime green. Fortunately, my dad felt sorry for me and bought me some sparkling royal blue bangles. My mom felt sorry for me and purchased me two silk shirts (one in soft yellow and the other a bold white with a pink trim). We spent the evening eating delicious spicy curries and creamy sugary desserts from my dad's favorite Indian cafe.

Tuesday
I come home to find out two great pieces of news: One, I wasn't let go. Two, I get to keep my job for good--no more three year contract!

So this vacation really did me some good. It's the first time I've come back and felt relaxed. Most of my stress is gone.

I hope it lasts!

Chicago!

Going to Chicago for a few days. So I probably wont' be blogging until Tuesday...

Off to visit family and meet some family! Off to shop without spending money. Off to eat delicious deep-dish pizza and authentic Indian food and gyros from a truck!

Off to forget my life!

Ciao!

Military chic for me?

My work requires me to do a lot of strange things.

Shadowing a high school military boot camp at 5 a.m. is not one of them.
But in today's unstable economy and lay offs coming up next week, I gave my 210% and trudged off to Shawnee Mission North High School in the middle of the night to write a story about young Marines.

In 22 degree weather and five inch heels, I paced around the school for 25 minutes because all the doors were locked (although I had seen a student just moments earlier miraculously enter in ONE of the doors...). Finally, I had to be escorted into the gym by two security officers while a giant row of stone-faced teenage boys holding rifles stared at me.

Their coach, a retired Marine officer, shouted some strange commands at me. Clearly, since I'm not part of the military training, I just giggled and proceeded to ignore him. He was not amused.

"Little girl, move three steps right! THREE STEPS RIGHT!" He screamed at me, before I finally realized he wasn't joking.

Hoping to leave early (so I could go back home to sleep) I cornered a few uneasy seniors for an interview. They kept addressing me as "ma'am" which I found irksome.
"I'm so young," I said, giving a cute little shrug. "I'm really not that much older than you. In fact, I date boys your age." (That's not true). But instead of making them feel better, the boys looked even more horrified.

"Little girl! You've stolen my commanders! Halt interview!" Their coach shouted at me. "Halt interview! Attention!"

He marched over and glared in my face. "Halt interview!" He shouted.

Tears pooled in my eyes. It reminded me of being in Drivers Education at 16. (My driving instructor had been a former Ohio State University football coach and on our first day out together, he screamed cuss words in my face for not looking in my blind spot while merging. I was so distraught, I had to pull over on the highway and sob. He then felt bad and bought me a chocolate milkshake through a McDonald's drive-thru.)

My tears worked again, because the 50-year-old military coach softened his scowl.
"This is about boys becoming men, not ballerina time," he told me, frowning at my cream colored pea coat and vintage buckled heels.

Eventually, his gruffness wore off and when the boot camp was over, he had as much credit with me as a teddy bear.

And by the time I was ready to leave, we were joking and laughing like old friends.
He even invited me to join the military boot camp and said I had "potential."

It was quite charming.

So what promised to be a bad morning actually ended up being a pretty good one.

I don't feel tired. I look terrific. And if this whole journalism thing doesn't work out, I have potential to be a U.S. Marine.


(With the right heels, I really think I could make the uniforms on the far left and far right look really fab. Granted, this photo is from the 1930s but I doubt the Marines female uniforms have changed that much.)

"I vont to be alone!"

I was wrapped up all cozy in the apartment this past weekend and kept thinking about how much I just wanted to stay there.

Outside loomed the scary realities of life: the rain, the thunder, my dad, my job.

I felt safe and secure bundled up on the couch with a thick fluffy blanket and a bottle of pink champagne.

And I can't get this feeling out of my head. I was fantasizing about it all day today and I think it might be a good idea.

Now that Rian has a job with his old landscaping company, he can pay for everything. And I will stay in the apartment.

It's brilliant. All I need is a cell phone and computer to stay connected with friends and family. The fridge is stacked with food and wine. Those are the only things I need to survive.

I imagine myself like Greta Garbo...hiding away from the glaring eyes of the cameras and obtrusive fans. I'll spend most of my days lounging on the couch eating grapes and watching foreign films. When a friend stops by, I'll glide to the door in a hideously glamorous electric blue vintage Hollywood robe.



I'll open the door wide, usher them in, and then quickly pour them a drink. Brandy. Scotch. Rum. On the rocks.

It will be so fab.

But first I need that damn robe. And some diamonds.

And it's over!

Well, I spoke too soon.

Just when I had a tiny taste of happiness, my dad had to shatter it. So now I've learned my lesson. I will never let my guard down again. Happiness is not meant to be mine. Every time I let down my wall and start to enjoy myself, ugliness smacks me in the head.

I feel like I either did something bad in a past life or someone up there wants me to suffer.

And what kills me the most is that after my dad hurt me so bad, my mom wouldn't comfort me. She's so used to him treating her like that, she's numb to it all. Instead, she called this morning to sing her usual song: "When are you and Rian getting married? What are you going to do with your life? Are you going to be a newspaper reporter your entire life and make no money? Maybe it's time to start thinking about going back to school for something else. Your father is right. You need to start saving up for the future."

Gawwwwwd. I was so hung over from last night (drinking away my pain with an entire bottle of pink champagne) that I didn't even know where to begin.

First, I'm not ready to settle down and start a family. I am a 25 year old woman who up until six months ago was stuck in her dad's house with a 10:30 p.m. curfew. I want to experience independence before I settle down. Right now, Rian and I are simply not at that stage yet.

Second part: I already have a plan for my life. I love my job and if I can stay a newspaper reporter until I die, that will be fine with me. Sure, I'll make no money but I would rather do something I love for little than be even more miserable all day doing something I hate. But you know, if I get laid off this month, I will probably take any job I can get and then go to grad school in January. Maybe I will pursue a different career that ties into journalism, such as magazine writing, book publishing, public relations, or marketing. I have even thought about going into fashion. It's so up in the air right now.

But it just kills me that my mother keeps asking me these questions and I give her these answers but she never lets up. It's exhausting. What more can I say?

So here I am completely hung over and stressed and sad.

I am never going to be happy again.

Unless I win the lottery.

Hidden treasure!

And the weekend keeps getting better!

This morning I found, hidden under a pile of Rian's old sweaters, a bagful of spring clothes that I purchased at the mall six months ago and completely forgot about!

So now hanging up in my closet is a crisp white, fifties inspired white Ralph Lauren sun dress with flared skirt; a form fitting pale turqoise Jones New York sun dress with small white flowers; a dressy black Bebe short-sleeved jacket with white collar and sparkling diamond belt; and dark pink Mac & Jac short-sleeved shirt with a square collar.

So at least I have a few new things for spring...

What a nice surprise.

Feeling a little bit better...

I have been pretty down lately. It seems like everything in my life is dreadful.

I have no money. My dad is driving me nuts. I might get laid off from my job this month. I need to lose weight. My car is on its last leg.

But for the past two days, I have felt a little more optimistic and not-so-dreary. It might be because of the sudden change in weather. It has been gorgeous. It was 80 yesterday and 70 today. It will be the same over the weekend. I feel like spring has finally arrived (or a little taste of it at least).

My lift in spirits comes at an interesting time. Just a few days ago, a new friend was telling me to cheer up and enjoy life. She's such a doll and one of those people who is naturally blissful. And then this morning I watched this Tom Hanks movie where he says something like "only a few people in this world are really alive. Everyone else is asleep. And those people who are alive just walk around every day in amazement."

I want to be one of those people who is really alive. Yes, a lot of things in my life suck. Really bad. But I want to live beyond that. I want to find happiness somewhere.

I don't know where to begin. A change in attitude doesn't happen overnight. But I'm going to try.

Most fab creature of the sea

I love the color pink. I love dolphins.

So when Nadine sent me this story, it was like a fairytale come true. I have found my soul mate.

Pink never goes out of style. And this delicious pink marshmallow creature just proves it.

Hopefully, this dolphin will be able to live a normal life. Apparently it has tourists chasing and harassing it. It's like the Britney of the sea.

And I'm just praying the Sea World people aren't going to capture it for one of their amusement shows.

I hope its beauty cheers up your day. ;)

Monday Morning Grrrrr's

To say I've had a bad morning is a huge understatement.

In fact, it's been so bad, I don't even know where to begin.

I knew it was going to be bad morning when I woke up to see Rian scowling at me. He had school bus training at 7 a.m. today (something a recent college graduate should NOT have to do). But, alas, the job market is so terrible, he's going to take what he can get until a real job comes along.

I had to attend an event downtown from 7:30 a.m. to 9 a.m. for work.

Right after I woke up, my mom called, crying. Apparently her car wouldn't start and she didn't have any vacay/sick days left in the year. (So, if she doesn't show up to work, she gets fired.) My heart softened, and I told her that I would take her. After all, I really didn't have to be at the event until 8 a.m., if need be. And I know she would do the same thing for me.

My mom works at the government's national archives. For some reason, this place is located in a cave outside of town. It took 30 minutes to get there. I was pissed. And then after I dropped her off, I ended up getting completely lost for another 30 minutes. By the time I got to the highway, to head downtown, the traffic was backed up completely. That stupid electronic road sign said downtown was an hour away (normally a 15 minute drive). So, I decided to head there through town. I thought it would be faster. I was wrong. I hit every single stop light.

I tried calling the event organizer, to say I was going to be late, but her voicemail was full. I couldn't even leave a message.

I finally got downtown at 8:45 a.m., only to find out there was no parking anywhere near the event. The closest garage wanted 15 dollars. Um, no fucking way. So I found a street meter spot five blocks away. I put in enough for 30 minutes and headed on my way.

In five inch heels, I crept up five blocks on sidewalks that were paved with ice. I ignored the blatant sexual harassment from bums and semi-homeless people waiting at various bus stops. When I got to the building, I found out the event had been moved to three blocks away, up on a hill. I started up the hill, in my heels, only to keep sliding down. There was no way I was going to make it in heels. There was no way I was going to make it before everyone left the event. It was already over.

I headed back to my car, inch by inch, like a brand new ice skater. And when I finally got back to my car, I just sat there and cried. I called my editor and told him I didn't have the story. He was sympathetic, but that didn't help. I started my car, only to find that I was stuck in a huge patch of ice. The car wouldn't move.

It took 20 minutes and two construction workers to get me out of it. And they laughed at me.

Oh, and on the way home, I received a call from the library saying that they have sent a debt collector after me because I never returned some stupid movie two months ago. I had totally forgotten about it.

Oh, oh, oh. And I found out that I'm going to get charged a $50 fine for paying my rent late on Thursday (two days late). My apartment manager wouldn't make any exceptions.

So, yeah. It's been a shitty day so far. I'm at home right now, staying here until my next interview at 12:45 p.m. I'm too scared to leave because who knows what's going to happen to me next.

For now I'm just going to sit on the bed and meditate. Maybe if I'm lucky all this negative energy will go away. I will return the movie. I will not stress about rent. Or money. Or my job. Or Rian's job.

*sobs*

On a more positive note, here's a cute pic of me and Rian. :)