Beware of online home wreckers!

Online home wreckers.

Oh, where do I even begin?

This topic tugs at my heart because it affects me in several ways. I have three friends who have gotten divorced because of it.

In the good ol' days, home wreckers actually had to work. They had to keep up their physique, dress like skanks, and step outside their home to snare their prey. They had to perfect the art of flirting.

Now, they just need to get on a computer.

In the digital world, any girl can be a home wrecker. The overweight bimbo who wishes she had Barbie's husband. The older woman who wishes she was younger. The scorned teenager who wishes to sabotage her crush's new relationship. You can be anybody on the Internet. It's that simple.

In most cases, the home wreckers have a classic scenario. Let's choose Facebook as an example. The girl befriends a guy she thinks is hot, without seeing his profile. When he accepts her, she notices he has a wife/girlfriend. She doesn't care. Soon, she is leaving flirty photo comments. And then she is leaving wall comments. And when you bring it up to him, he will get annoyed ("Stop being jealous, she's just a friend" or "She's just some girl I met on facebook. I don't even know her."). And then come the messages...the ones you can't read. The ones where she's pouring her heart out to him and slowly (or quickly) drawing him away from you, one word at a time.

My friend Sarah was the first friend I had who went through this nightmare. She got married right after college, to her high school sweetheart. Five months later, her husband told her he met a girl on Facebook and asked for a divorce. Apparently a girl found her husband on Facebook by searching for people who liked The White Stripes. She randomly came across him and liked what she saw. She started messaging him about her life and how lonely she was and how she wished she could meet a guy like him. Sarah's husband was so swept off his feet and flattered with the attention, he left Sarah and immediately moved in with the new girl right after the divorce.

Then it was my friend Jessica (from college). She married her college sweetheart and two years later started noticing a pretty young 20-year-old commenting on his Facebook wall. He denied liking the girl. "I had a class with her three years ago and she just found me on Facebook. Don't be jealous." he told Jessica. She eventually caught him messaging the girl and he sheepishly admitted he had fallen in love. They divorced immediately afterward.

And then it was Jennifer S. (a high school friend of mine). Same exact story. A girl from a nearby town found her husband (of one year) on Facebook through mutual friends. Photo comments. Wall comments. Secret messages. Another marriage destroyed.

Almost every husband or boyfriend promises he's never going to stray.

But only he knows if that's true.

If men are going to cheat, they are going to cheat.

But even the most faithful of men can be conned on the Internet by a pretty face, series of sweet messages, and the hope that maybe there is someone better out there.

Someone a lot better than you.

Award!

I was awarded the "One Lovely Blog Award" by the fab Planet Plum.

Pretty cool, huh? What a sweet gesture. :)

And of course, I am going to pass the award on to the following blogs:

That's All

Limadean

Qin at the Disco

Chic Heroin

Tia_Cherie

Couture Carrie

Stylista Kate

Falling Out of Reach

Tic Tac Tomato

La Femme Chic

Too Haute To Handle

Farewell to a Friend

I rarely let a lot of time pass between my blog postings. But the past four days have been a complete nightmare for me. I had a huge fight with Rian and I'm still licking my wounds.

Unfortunately, this incident coincides with another bad week of my life. One of my best friends is moving tomorrow. After being viciously back stabbed by a couple of stupid guys, Jonny has decided to pack up and move back home to Dallas.

I'm completely devastated.

Jonny and I have been best friends for four years.

Our first encounter was during my first year as the Culture Editor of our college newspaper. Jonny strolled in to our headquarters, straight from Texas, wearing tight jeans and a modest button-up shirt. "I'm interested in being a reporter," he drawled in a cute little southern accent. I fell in love instantly.

And so did he. Within a few days we were already going on shopping sprees together. He became a stylist for me--most of the outfits I have in my closet were thrown together by Jonny. And over the years he has grown to know exactly what would look good on me. It was like being best friends with a personal shopper.

And we spent countless nights lounging in his fab (now vacant) loft downtown, on the top floor, with the incredible view of the skyline. Sometimes we'd snuggle in bed, drinking bottles of Chianti, and watch Designing Women or the Golden Girls or Ab Fab. Other nights we would watch Barbra movies and then he would break into song and dance. And he was always brilliant.(Jonny used to be a child actor). And sometimes we would have these fab sleepovers, where we would just drink cocktails and eat pizza until we passed out.


He has seen me through break ups, dating disasters, and embarrassing moments. He has been my escape from reality. Someone to laugh with and party with, while the rest of my world was in shambles.

And I have been his biggest supporter. Every time he met a new guy (every week) he would hold these beautiful dinner parties (with delicious food, plenty of red wine, and soft classical music drifting in the background). It was my job to meet the guy, critique him, become friends with him, and then ditch him on Facebook after the two split up. I also spent hours on the phone with Jonny, listening to his latest tales about boys who never called or boys who called too much.

We were so opposite and yet so completely similar.

And now he's leaving...going back home. In a way I should be happy for him. He's going to be closer to family, he already has a fab job at a boutique lined up, and he will reunite with high school friends. But on a more selfish note, I really wish he wasn't leaving.

I'm going to miss him so much it physically hurts. Who am I going to watch Golden Girls with on a rainy night? Who am I going to sing Barbra songs with in the car? Who is going to giggle about boys with me and exchange raunchy stories?

I guess that means I'm going to be alone more often these days...or maybe I'll actually start taking up those offers from coworkers in my office to have a girls' night out. Who knows.

Jonny is leaving and that means my life is going to change.

I guess I better plan my next trip to Dallas.

Somebody has a birthday coming up! & etc.

Kerrie and I know (but don't know) somebody who is having a birthday soon!

And we are so anxious to help this person celebrate.

I can't say who this person is because it's a total surprise.

What's even funnier is that we're not even friends with this person!

And everyone thinks we're taking it too far.

But we have no choice. We are fabbing fuckulous.

Our celebration is going to so hilarious, I will definitely post pics.

Random stuff:

...I am NOT looking forward to this weekend. I have to work while everyone else gets a three-day weekend for Memorial Day.

So. Not. Fair.

Sigh.

On a happier note, I recently found this cute pic of me as a little girl:

Tagged!

I was tagged by the adorable Imogen at Tia Cherie. So here is a fun survey. Enjoy!

What is your current obsession?
Cocktail rings

What are you wearing today?

dress: Charlotte Russe (Rian is clearly not a professional photographer and didn't get the rest of the mini dress in the shot. Sigh).


Sandals: Jimmy Choo


Ring: Forever 21

What's for dinner?
I had Franco pizza (basically pizza with white sauce and slices of tomato and spinach)

Which countries would you like to travel to?
Sri Lanka (I heard it’s gorgeous) and Sweden (see where my mom’s side of the family came from).

What is your dream job?
Feature writer for Elle or Vogue

What is your favourite magazine?
Elle

If you had $100 now, what would you spend it on?
cocktail rings

What is your favourite fruit?
Strawberries

What's the last thing you bought?
Ruffled pink panties from Victoria’s Secret

What are you listening to right now?
The hum of the dish washer

What is your favourite ice cream flavour?
chocolate

What do you think about the person who tagged you?
Imogen is a pretty, intelligent girl who has a very classy, lovely sense of style.

Whats your must-have piece for summer?
A bikini. And yes, by June, I will fit in one.

If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?
Believe it or not, I'm fine where I am right now. Because I'm with Rian. Awwwww.

What language do you want to learn?
Italian (yes, it would probably be useless for me but it sounds so fab).

What’s your favourite quote?

“You think you’re so trendy and hip and fabulous, Jennifer, but in reality, your views on existentialism are 60 years behind”—Rian to me, on Saturday.

Who do you want to meet right now?
Morrissey. Who else?

What’s your favourite colour?
light pink

What's your favourite piece of clothing in your own closet?
My light beige Prada skirt with dark red roses all over it…sigh.

Favourite designer?
Etro

What do you consider a fashion faux pas?
Crocs

Do you admire anyone's style?
Anne Hathaway...and obviously Audrey, Grace, and Jackie.

Describe your personal style?
Classy and colorful

What are you going to do after this?
Sleep.

What are your favourite movies?
Mean Girls, Confessions of a Shopaholic, The Devil Wears Prada, Priceless, etc.

What inspires you?
My friends, my mom, and random people I meet who make a deep impression within only a few seconds.

Do you have any pets?
Just an auburn-colored canary

The rules: 1. Respond and rework; answer the questions on your blog, replace on question that you dislike wit h a question of your invention, add one more question of your own. 2. Tag eight other people.

I'm tagging:

That's All
Limadean
Qin at the Disco
La Femme Chic
Tic Tac Tomato
Couture Carrie
Stylista Kate
Falling out of Reach

Like mother, like daughter

My father has been trying to shape me my entire life.

Unfortunately for him, I turned out exactly like my mother. And she didn't even try to influence me. It just happened.

You see, she is a shopaholic too. My entire childhood consisted of her calling me into the master bedroom to show off her latest blouse, necklace, or lipstick. "I'm hiding it in my closet," she would whisper each time. "Don't tell your father. This is between you and me." And of course I was never left out. She would always pick me up something equally fab and unnecessary. A bottle of perfume, a cardigan, or a fancy diary.

Now that she's older, her purchases have become a little stranger. While I am now the one spending hundreds of dollars on shoes, bags, and dresses, she will spend the same amount on birdcages, commemorative plates, and holiday decorations. And now we both have the "don't tell Dad" policy. I even sometimes hide purchases from Rian because sometimes he has the tendency to get a little like my father...("You bought WHAT?!"). And of course, I never leave my mom out either. She survives among her 20-something-year-old coworkers with the cute Kathy Von Zeeland bags I pick up for her every season.

Other things my mom and I have in common: addiction to red wine, ability to justify bad decisions ("I can have this piece of chocolate cake today because it's Sunday. It's practically a holiday!" or "Why is it such a big deal if I get sloshed Thursday night? It's practically the weekend!" etc.), our obsession with Desperate Housewives, and our determination to never leave the house without makeup on ("You never know when you're going to run into Brad Pitt").

But I think the most bizarre trait I inherited from my mother is an obsession with baby animals. Because my childhood is also filled with incidents where my mom finds wild baby creatures in our backyard and nurses them into adults.

(I attempted this a month or so ago with some wild rabbits and I failed miserably).

But now my mom and I have a project together. I was visiting my parents this morning when we came across a baby robin. His parents had rejected him because he fell from the nest. So obviously, against my dad's annoyed protests, my mom and I carried the poor little thing off into the garage and gave it a new home. We have this fantasy that once we nurse it into an adult, the robin will be like a member of the family. Perhaps fly around the house and sing a beautiful melody. Or maybe even one day deliver important messages for us, like in Harry Potter. Who knows. The possibilities are endless!

Sadly, the little bird isn't very attractive. In fact, he's extremely gruesome and looks like something out of a horror film. But I think after a few days of love and care, he will gain some beauty. And if he's nice, we might introduce him to his future best friend, Lily (my mother's stylish lovebird).

After all, with mothers like us, the dirty little robin has no choice but to turn out fab!


The new robin in his temporary home


Lily in her posh home

Shoe day!

So I spent my entire paycheck on shoes today.

My favorite department store (Halls) was having a 60 percent off sale.

I went there with the intention of getting just one pair, like I normally do. I wanted to get some serious work shoes (which I did). After all, I already have a closet full of fun, colorful, and sparkly Jimmy Choo and Kate Spade sandals. Not exactly office attire.

I got there 30 minutes before the store opened and stood with the rest of the female crowd, waiting for the maintenance man to open the doors.

As soon as his key touched the door, we all ran inside. I sprinted to the escalator and dashed to the shoe department. I felt like I was at the Olympics.

As soon as I got there, my favorite salesman's eyes lit up. (Dan has been assisting my shoe addiction for the past two years). I was relieved he saw me first because he's the only salesman there I trust. He tells me the truth and doesn't bullshit his way into a sale. If something doesn't look right, he says it.

I skimmed the sales rack and choose 15 pairs for him to retrieve in my size. Notable ones among them: gray Prada heels, brown Blahnik heels, leopard Blahnik heels, sparkling gold Diane Von Furstenburg flats, black and gold Kate Spade sandals, zebra Kate Spade sandals, and orange Tory Burch flip flops.

The Prada and Blahnik ones were too big (they didn't have a smaller size), the gold flats were TOO flat, the Spades had sharp spikes which hurt my feet, and the flip flops made me slide across the floor. I found faults with a few others as well.

After an hour of hemming and hawing and strutting across the store, I finally narrowed my search down to three remaining pairs: lipstick red Jimmy Choo heels, silky, sleek wine-colored Zanotti heels, and a pair of black and white Ralph Lauren sandals I'd been ogling for months (even contemplated purchasing before the sale).

All pairs looked so amazing on my feet. The red heels popped with my black dress, the wine colored heels shimmered with every turn, and the white straps on the black Ralph Laurens also looked striking against my tan skin. I had a crowd of customers surrounding me with compliment after compliment. I was in the zone. I bought all three.

My entire paycheck. I literally have no money until two weeks from now.

I tried to justify it. I mean, I'm going to have these shoes for the rest of my life. The heels I bought are so simple and classic. They will never got out of style in my book. And they are SUCH good quality. Plus, while weight goes up and down, feet sizes don't change for adults. These shoes will always fit.

And Rian is paying the rent this month.

Ha.

My addiction

I had my fix today.

The warm, soft tortillas stuffed with grilled chicken, savory black beans, cilantro lime rice, and tangy salsa.

The lime salted chips.

The fresh, chunky guacamole.

God. I’m full but my mouth has started watering.

You see, in addition to being a shopaholic, workaholic, and (possibly) alcoholic, I am also a Chipotle-holic. Or however the hell you say it.

I am addicted to Chipotle.

And this is not a joke.

I’m serious.

Whenever people mention that they’re addicted to stuff like cigarettes, coffee, or crack—I understand.

Oh how I understand.

I have never been more than five days without Chipotle.

And those are usually the longest five days of my life.

Without my fix, I get irritable and faint. I fantasize about it at work. I even called my dad ‘taco’ once by accident.

My addiction began nine years ago in Ohio when I was a young high school student studying journalism at Kent State University over the summer. The college had a Chipotle near its campus. I started going once a month.

Now I go at least twice a week.

I know there are probably health nuts, anorexics, and normal people just reading my words and cringing, but I don’t care.

This is an addiction that I have no desire to fix.

And the McDonald’s corporation knows it.

Two years ago, I attended the grand opening of a nearby Chipotle. I ran into a company spokeswoman. We chatted for a little bit. And then she said, “You know what we call Chipotle customers at headquarters? Users. Because they’re all addicted!” And then she cackled. Instead of being offended, her words just made me even more hungry.

Fortunately, I’m not a total cow when it comes to their food.

Every time, I only eat one chicken soft taco and a half bagful of chips with guacamole and water.

According to this website, that means I’m only eating 513 calories in my meal, as opposed to the thousands of calories one consumes after an entire burrito, chips, and soft drink.

That makes me feel a little bit better about this addiction.

Oh, who am I kidding?

I need help.

The reunion

And moving on...

I was stabbed with a little nostalgia recently. Actually it was more like a tidal wave of memories.

You see, I had a little bit of a reunion.

My friend Jenny (from Omaha) and I recently spent a few days together after not seeing each other for nine years. We parted as awkward teenagers and reunited as sophisticated adults. Or something like that. (I moved to Ohio after sophomore year). We didn't keep in touch very well, until we recently discovered each other on blogger. Craziness. Well, now we're both newspaper geeks. She's the graphic designer for a small Iowa newspaper. You all know what I do.

While her boyfriend spent every waking minute in a computer engineering conference, I showed Jenny the sights of the town. We went to an art museum, shopping, and ate at my favorite restaurants (ha). We drowned ourselves in cosmos while watching the Golden Girls with Jonny. We had coffee with Kerrie. We kept running into my exes (yikes).

It was fun. And it also made me realize how much we have changed while staying the same. She's into pop music now and is more open with her feelings. I learned so much more about her now than I ever did in high school. I, on the other hand, became more interested in decent music over the years. I am a lot more cynical and weary. We've kind of switched personalities a little.

And realizing those changes made me so sad. I miss being that cute little high school theater brat! I miss being 92 pounds! I miss being a dancer! I miss being pretty!

Um, anyway.

Hopefully we will see each other again some day before the next nine years creep up on us.

We'll see.

I'm sorry I'm not sorry

A few people were a little irked about my blog from a few days ago ("My friend has a stalker"). Unfortunately for them, I have no apologies.

Kerrie approved the blog before I wrote it. And there is nothing in that blog post that her stalker doesn't already know. In fact, he or she already knows a lot more personal stuff about Kerrie than I have ever posted on here. (We know that from the letters she received).

After all, we are talking about someone who has googled Kerrie for months. They found her home address, her e-mail address, her parents' names, her facebook, and her blog. The internet is a cesspool of personal information about people from our generation. Whether you like it or not, fragments of your life are caught up in the web, so easy for anyone to find.

So my saying in my personal blog that Kerrie has a stalker and saying I'm concerned about her really isn't anything new to her stalker. It's just me being a concerned friend and letting all my other friends around the world know what is going on in my life. Because Kerrie is a huge part of my life.

And I'm not going to pretend this isn't happening to her.

Art and a pow wow

The weekend has been going pretty good so far.

On Friday night Kerrie and I went to the art district to shop for swimming suits, visit some friends, eat sushi, invade a cozy little bakery, and take in a few galleries. It was pleasant. We even ran into Paul (Kerrie's bf) and hung out with him for a few hours. He bought me chips and salsa from Chipotle later that night, so I couldn't complain about the interruption. ;)










And then this afternoon, I tagged along with my parents to an Indian pow wow at the community college. My blond-haired, blue-eyed Swedish mother was invited there to sell her popular Indian head dresses. Leave it to my mom to sell the Indians back their culture. Ha. And then there was some amusing confusion with people thinking my dad was their kind of Indian (he hails from the actual country). It was a lot of fun. I even got a free Indian taco out of the trip. Yummy!

My friend has a stalker

This is Kerrie.

She's pretty. She's young. She's sweetly innocent for a college student.

She is being stalked.

Apparently there is an obsessive boy or jealous girl out to get her and it's scaring me.

It started last month when she received very nasty blog comments from an anonymous person, threatening her and calling her names. She just thought it was a troll. And then within a week, three letters arrived at her house, telling her to be "careful."

So obviously this person knows where Kerrie lives.

And then the other night someone started making gross sexual noises and banging on the windows of her house. It was especially troublesome because Kerrie lives with her mom, older sister, and little niece and nephew. The noises woke up her one-year-old niece, who was frightened (and who can blame the poor little thing?) for the rest of the night.

Kerrie didn't see who the person was but managed to catch a glimpse of someone running down the street. A neighbor and Kerrie both called the police. That same neighbor told the police she couldn't tell if the person running away was a woman or a "chubby 14-year-old boy." Weird.

What makes this whole situation even more strange is that Kerrie doesn't have any enemies. She doesn't have time to make them. This year, school has been insanely busy for her. And when she's not studying, she's spending time with me or her boyfriend, Paul.

I'm really concerned about Kerrie. I don't like the fact someone is watching her and trying to scare her. Who knows what he or she will do next. I used to feel comforted by the fact Kerrie lives across the street from a police officer. But he's been in Europe for the past two weeks. And I think whoever went to Kerrie's house the other night knew that...?

I do feel a little bit better because Kerrie's mom freaked out about the incident big time. She was so worried it was someone trying to kidnap her grandchildren, she made Rian (my boyfriend and Kerrie's brother) miss work today so he could help install security cameras around the outside of their house. Like they live in a freaking shopping mall.

I can only pray that will help.

But I'm still so sick with worry for my friend. That awful person is still out there, just waiting to get her.

I feel so helpless because I don't know what to do. Put Kerrie in my purse until the stalker is caught? Yeah, right.

At least she is surrounded by support right now. Her family is incredibly worried. And she couldn't have a better boyfriend. Paul is so concerned and furious about what is happening. Every time a new incident occurs, he tries everything he can to comfort her fears and protect her. It has brought them closer in a way. And Kerrie is so lucky to have that right now.

And I think the same can be said about our friendship. I've realized that I will really do anything to save a friend. And I've learned that Kerrie is like a younger sister to me. And I would die if anything happened to her.

I really hope everything turns out okay.

I'm sorry to go on about this, but I'm so worried...