Sunday December 30, 2007

Objectively, I understand that
1) I do not get to make a Birthday Wishlist any longer for my parents and assorted relatives.
2) clicking around on the Victoria's Secret website is a bad idea, as it will lead to the purchase of itchy underwear that looked good in the photo.

But sometimes, I swear, hidden gems on VS.  Such as:

leather jacket
a muuuuuuuch cheaper hot leather motorcycle jacket than the gunmetal grey one I was previously stalking.  ($148 vs. $627:  how is this even a contest, really?)

Student loans for winter quarter come through on Wednesday.  Care to take bets how many hours I last on January 2nd before purchasing this for myself and claiming "early birthday present"?

Sunday December 30, 2007

A sample schedule for the short week I spent at my parents' house over the holidays:

noon: wake up
noon-thirty:  finish breakfast of almond & chocolate toffee and peanut-butter cookies with tea; justify this as being healthy due to ginseng in tea.
12:45: commandeer computer for purpose of "work"
3:30: leave perch at computer to volunteer for trip to Target, secure in the knowledge that this expedition could result in both a stop at Starbucks and possibly some Target clearance treats.
4:30: make more tea, sit down for two+ hours of Law & Order.  Have lunch of chocolate cookies, chocolate drops, and more toffee.
7:00: open bottle of wine for dinner.  Parents rarely drink, therefore they purchase "semi-sweet table wine", which is alcoholic koolaid.
7:20: finish first serving of steak, shrimp, giant bowl of pasta, and small handful of virtuous vegetables.  Finish boozy koolaid.  Open bottle of dessert wine.
7:45: stumble upon leftover bread pudding in fridge.  Insist that the holidays call for dessert with every meal.
8:00: more Law & Order, more healthy ginseng tea.
9:50: oooh, nachos would be a really good idea.
10:10:  nachos go really well with beer.
1:05: promise self that I will only check email before bed and not obsessively refresh pages looking for the first appearance of holiday cashmere clearance.
2:50: contacts are drying out under the welcoming glow of the computer, time for bed.

All day, every day:  curse lack of cellphone reception.  Curse lack of motivation to use treadmill in basement.  Curse self for not using ice skates in garage to take an energizing spin around the lake.
Marvel that new grey Citizens received as Christmas present still fit. 


Thursday December 27, 2007

Yes, this is an 8 1/2 foot tall bronze sculpture in someone's front yard.

No, this is not a good idea.


Wednesday December 26, 2007

As I have nothing but time, here in the great expanse of parking lots that is Kearney, I decided to make my hairstylist proud and actually, y'know, style my hair this morning.  I figured that not too much damage could really be inflicted by the hot rollers, as my hair is stick-straight and fine and would really rather just lay there than curl. 
Wow, hot-rollering my hair to achieve a vaguely wavy, textur-y look was a bad idea.  A bad enough idea that I spent the next 15 minutes with water and a comb, flattening my hair into its normal state of submissiveness. 
My hair + curls = bad idea.
And no, no photos will be provided to prove this equation.

Also, thrifting (I would call it "vintageing", but really, Goodwill is not vintage.) in Kearney is far more disappointing than I had remembered.  Even Salvation Army, my secret weapon of high-school disco-queen outfits, is now reduced to two racks of winter jackets from 1986 and some Wranglers with a 38" waist.  Goodwill did have a rather nice faux-fur 3/4 length swing coat with a portrait collar, but once on, the marked size of "Ladies' 8" turned out to be, presumably, "Ladies' 18", as I could've fit my mother inside the coat with me.  There is a difference between a swing coat and a tent, and this particular item did not make that distinction.

To come:  photos of the best visual example of more-money-than-taste.  I took photos today of an 8-foot bronze statue found in the front yard of one Nebraska family.  Formerly a statue of their three children climbing a soaring eagle, the family seems to have had a fourth child and had the statue altered to include a new, almost life-size representation of their youngest. 
I promise, it's even worse than it sounds.


Tuesday December 25, 2007

Spotted last night at Christmas Eve church service:
a 60-something woman wearing a bright green velour tracksuit over an unfortunately sequinned reindeer sweater.  With sparkly flipflops.


Thursday December 20, 2007

Last night, at screening of "Sweeney Todd", I leaned over to whisper to Mary:

"I have the urge to yell 'soylent green is PEOPLE!' right now."


Monday December 17, 2007

Yesterday, I wore navy blue shorts with a black t-shirt.  In public. 
(And by "public" I mean "to yoga class", but still, once I realized that the shorts were blue and not black, I got a little twitchy.  It's a thing I have.)



Saturday December 15, 2007

What. the. fuck., Duncan Hines.  You KNOW that my specialty cake, the to-swoon-over cake, the cake that has made me famous in certain circles, is a double-layer hazelnut cake with salty caramel frosting.  WHY would you then go out and create your own jarred, over-sweet, commercially available caramel frosting?  Now any bitch with a cake mix can be a pretender to the awesome caramel frosting throne, but I will not take this challenge lightly.  Oh no.  I will tweak my caramel frosting recipe (note:  mine is made by caramelizing real sugar and going from there, not by adding "caramel flavor" to a generic overprocessed and overstabilized buttercream like sooooome frostings one can purchae at the grocery store) until caramel dominance is mine.

Ok, secondary caramel dominance, as we all know that my recipe is totally a riff on the brilliant Adrienne Odom's pastry wonderfulness.

In completely unrelated news, I am now the owner of a gorgeous vintage fur Dior cloche.  It's been calling my name from the Mustardseed window for weeks now, and I caved today and bought it.  I'll have Noah take a photo of me being all flirty and coy in the hat and show it off to you soon, I swear.


Friday December 14, 2007

(Um, yesterday's post was nearly incoherent.  Sorry.  "I want things!  Things do not exist!  Oh no!  This saves me money and time!")

This week, I accidentally kicked the Director of the Contemporary Arts Center in the elbow.  And then I continued to kick her for the next two minutes.  At this point, if she does not remember my name, I will continue kicking!
Just kidding.  What really transpired was a hamstring-breaking Yogalates class, which I foolishly decided would be a great, relaxing introduction back into a daily yoga practice.  Aside from the bit about me never having done Pilates before, I also haven't kept up with yoga for the past two months or so, which leads to situations in which the yoga studio is extremely crowded, and Raphaela takes the mat directly to my left, and then the balance-on-your-right-arm-and-arch-your-back-and-kick! poses begin, and I, being unable to do graceful swinging kicks and balances, commence smacking of her right elbow with my left foot.  Not once, oh no, but about seven times.  Oops.

(Now my entire upper body is so sore it hurts to put on a coat, pointing out all the muscles that exist in name only.  Those muscles are now screaming "why in god's name did you attempt that arm balance?!?")

And yet, despite my best efforts to break her arm, Raphaela not only did not avoid my potentially uncontrollable limbs in the office today, but went out of her way to be awesome.  I suppose that I can't suggest that you, too, should repeatedly hit the person upon whom you really would like to make a favorable impression, but it seems to work for me.
I'm off to go smack around next quarter's Managerial Accounting professor, then.


Thursday December 13, 2007

I generally go shopping with a very specific piece in mind- sleeve length, material, color, cut, the whole thing.  Certainly, I must've seen such a dress/coat/shoe somewhere, because these designs would not just jump into my head, now would they?  Except that naturally, these pieces do not exist in the wild. 
Such as:  since September, I have craved a navy blue satiny/silky tie-neck sleeveless blouse with a banded waist and blousy body.  And this does not exist goddamn anywhere.  I'd go for a halter-neck, a high neck... except that no one has produced this for me yet.

Last weekend, somewhere on a untraceable trail of links, I came across a similar blouse by Tulle Clothing- except Tulle Clothing does not have a website, and all their major online third-party retailers are not the site I saw, and do not have the girly, dolled-up blouse that could make me look like a put-together grownup.
This is clearly a sign that the internet hates me.

(I love the word "blouse".)


Sunday December 9, 2007

Admittedly, at times I can be a spendthrifty, Discover Card-toting, instant gratification shopper.  But, with three weeks before the next student loan check and bills to pay, I'm limited to just posting the pretty things that I would want for Christmas if A) Santa Claus were real and B) Santa Claus were a very generous sugar daddy.  Materialism ahoy.

Marc Jacobs lizard-skin bad-ass cuff watch
because my current watch has three dots and no numbers, and I haven't really know if it was 4:40 or 5:40 for seven years now.

Matt & Nat baby blue Jorja Fox bag
because I can think of no classier way to smuggle a pair of flats, a sandwich, a magazine, a sweater, and possibly even my cat into work than with a big, beautiful purse.

The perfect not-too-cropped motorcrossy leather jacket

because "winter" in Cincinnati means "windy and 30 degrees", which means a puffy Columbia coat is just silly.

An ipod that will make running through the park slightly more motivating
because my regular ipod requires a arm-strap holder for workouts that leaves a very odd tan line of my left bicep.

For Noah:  a laptop of his own.  For me: not having to share my laptop when I want to watch "Gossip Girl" and he wants to work on silly things like finishing his Master's.

A pretty, pretty dress from French Connection
because IT'S NOT BLACK!

I still do not have a new camera.
because I'd love to put more photos of the cat on the internet.

The Allumonde ring (hint!  only $35!)
because my current ring flies off when I gesture too grandly.  Also, oooh, shiny.

Grey Citizens of Humanity jeans
because high-rise pants = happy girl.

Things to put in my stocking include:
Jay-Z's latest
Anything in which Gael wears a dress
The exhibition catalogue for "Diane Arbus:  Revelations"

Booze, please.

Warm (sexy) socks

Yummy and not-cloying lotion



Monday December 3, 2007

PWNED, bitches.
I've been lusting after this over-the-knee flat boot for a few weeks now, but although DSW had it on sale in my size (godDAMN you, DSW, why must you rock so hard?), they only stocked it in black and brown.
Do I need yet another pair of black boots for $90?  Of course not.  But grey- I totally could justify shelling out for grey boots.  The Chinese Laundry website indicated that they'd be available after December 7th in grey, but just because I'm picky and rather anal-retentive, I've been checking their website each day just to make sure they didn't come in early.
And today!  I click over to the boots, and although there is no photo as of yet, the pretty sexy slouchy suede boots were there, in grey, in my size!  No deliberations necessary- those boots are en route.  And I am nervously checking my bank balance, as student loans will run out very soon, and yet I'm still mid-stalk of another Kara Janx wrap dress on ebay, along with a new listing for the Marc Jacobs cuff watch snapped out of my clutches last week at the final moment.
kj & mj
Yeah, I might starve to death, but I'll look faaaaabulous doing it.  I have priorities.

I'm in no real danger of starving to death, frankly- I've consumed a year's worth of sausage and other assorted pork products over the last four days, topped off by my white-trashy special beer cheese soup (Velveeta + cream of mushroom + beer + worcestershire sauce) last night, followed by what might have been an entire six-pack of beer at C's.  I swear, I got up from her couch, and in the process of standing, I knocked over four empty beer bottles that had migrated to my feet.  Oops.  Forgot I'd drank all those already.
Ostensibly, I've decided to forego the rest of the bacon and the leftover Velveeta and the butter in the fridge and choose to eat foods that do not leave grease stains on my pants.  I say "ostensibly", because I have a Stats final on Thursday night, and while making flashcards tonight (how very middle-school of me) I unthinkingly ate half a giant bag o chips.  And inevitably, there will be post-final celebratory drinking from Thursday night on through the next week.  I'm going to have to start running far more than three miles at a time if I plan to be able to zip any jeans by my birthday.
(But shoes:  I will never get too chubby for shoes.  Shoes are
forgiving like that.)