Sometimes It's Not Pretty

Style girl

2012-02-09T13:38:00.000-08:00

Hope Sandoval- best known as the voice behind Mazzy Star (Fade into You)

Stuff not to go cheap on

2012-01-26T21:14:00.000-08:00

Being the cheap bitch that I am, I have found ways to save money on nearly everything I buy. Not only do I shop thrift/consignment stores, I even shop at cheap outlet stores for everyday things like socks. Shopping for me is like a game, wherein I always come out the savings victor.

While I am usually happy with my wares, there are some things one should never go cheap on:

Toilet paper- You wipe your ass with it. The feeling of your privates after wiping with Costco brand 50-rolls-for$5 is akin to having rolled around on the beach for hours with no underpants or a raging UTI. What more can I say?

Floss- I made the mistake of buying cheap floss due to the fact that it was half the price of all the other floss. It was advertised as 'mint flavored' and turned out to be 1/2 inch thick, wax-y rope masquerading as floss. Trust me, spend the extra $2 and stay away from this shit.

Hair rubber bands- I was at the Dollar Store for cheap gift bags when I decided the black hair ties looked just like the $5 Goody ones I buy at Target. Not so. The clever packaging gurus tricked me into believing their dollar store rubber bands actually worked. They broke on the first try and my precious $1 was wasted.

Dye jobs- Bad roots. Orange hair. The very real possibility that if something goes wrong, you could end up burning the hair right off your head.

Utilities- My father will think nothing of purchasing $200 running shoes but refuses to touch his thermostat. Is it a weird depression-era tick that makes him skimp on such a small comfort as heat in his own home? Or has he been doing it so long that 60 degrees seems like a pleasant temperature in the dead of winter? Either way, once I got my own home I vowed that I would never skimp on my manufactured weather. I haven't regretted that expense:)

The bangs kill me.

2012-01-26T12:22:00.001-08:00

Currently...

2012-01-18T09:23:00.001-08:00

Reading: Lots of Antonya Nelson and Anais Nin

Needing: Daily Cafe Au Laits

Liking: Rihanna's natural hair

Wanting: The perfect maxi skirt

Amy.

2012-01-09T13:11:00.000-08:00

Embellishments

2012-01-01T11:21:00.000-08:00

Forever 21 takes it up a notch with these beaded bags. I'm not a clutch person, but I would be for these.

Selling some stuff

2011-12-30T22:23:00.001-08:00

In honor of the New Year and an attempt to de-clutter I'm selling some of my stuff on ebay. Check it out here.

Tattoos.

2011-12-04T14:30:00.001-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-23T20:59:00.001-08:00

What Craigslist is good for.

2011-11-22T07:21:00.000-08:00

Loyal users of Craigslist know that not only can you find a full-sized mattress/box set and frame for under $200 (I did this weekend!) but you can also find a potential lover, running partner, seamstress, or pretty much any kind of person/item/service/weirdo you can imagine. I like to read best of craigslist for kicks now and then. Here are some I discovered last night.

Best. Roommate. Ever.
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sfo/2549849730.html
Konichiwa bitches. Are you looking for the most kick-ass fucking roommate that ever lived? If so, look no further. You fucking found him. I'm a 25-year-old professional marketing agent with experience at bad-ass companies in New York Fucking City. That's right! What you know about experience? I graduated from Auburn University in Alabama, and moved to NYC at the ripe, tender age of 22. After deciding that New York was a stinky shit-hole, I moved back to Alabama to cultivate more professional experience. Why? So I can make millions of dollars and not have to post shit like this on Craigslist.Anyway, so I landed this job with a marketing firm in San Francisco, and I have no fucking clue where to live.

Honestly, I'm moving there in 3 weeks, so I don't give a shit if I have to sleep in your bathtub. A bit about me: I'm respectful, quiet, clean and I won't bother any of your shit. If you leave shit out, I'm just like, "Oh fuck I better not mess with this shit, because it's not mine." I turn off lights. I clean toilets. Fuck it. I'll even cook for you. That's right! My dad is a chef and taught me everything there is to know about cooking southern cajun cuisine. I'll fry green tomatoes, cover them with marinated crab meat and smother that shit in bearnaise. EVERY. GODDAMN. NIGHT. Don't eat meat? That's fucking FANTASTIC! I'll make a zucchini and yellow squash carpaccio that will knock your fucking socks off. I also read a lot.

I fucking LOVE books. Vonnegut, Palahniuk, Hawthorne. All that shit. I read Tuesdays with Morrie the other day. It's a sad story, but I learned something about life, love, knowledge and the pursuit of something greater than myself. Fucking smart. Do you like movies? I fucking love them. We can watch the shit out of some movies together if you like, or go get drinks, or work out, hike, play video games or play a game of one-on-one basketball, or I don't have to talk to you at all. It's completely UP TO YOU!

Sometimes I play guitar. Are you going to love getting baked and listening to Bob Dylan and Pink Floyd? LIVE? WHENEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT? Of course you are! I'll take requests and learn any song you like, because I have the voice of an angel and the acoustical stylings of James Fucking Taylor. AWWWWWW SHIT YEA!

A lot of people ask me, "Hey, you're from Alabama. Are you racist?" And, the answer to that question is, no. I'm not racist or judgmental at all. I love everyone. I'm a secular humanist. I FUCKING LOVE PEOPLE. That's the only requirement to being a secular humanist actually. You have to like other human beings and want to help them for no other reason than they are human regardless of race, religion or sexual preference. WTF?!!!? Pretty fucking cool right?

I own almost nothing! I'm driving my car from Alabama to California in which I'll be transporting two duffelbags of clothes, one laptop computer, one guitar, one cell-phone with charger, 8 pairs of shoes, one picture frame, probably some condoms and a shitload of beef jerky and Pringles for the trip. Though, you can expect the jerky to be gone upon my arrival. Unless you'd like me to pick up some on my way into the city. See?! I'm the most considerate person you've ever met. I'm offering to buy you shit already!Am I interested in your pad? You can bet my nomadic ass I am! I only require 4 walls, a ceiling and a floor to shelter me from the elements. Other than that, anything else will be considered a convenient plus. I'm taking being a roommate to the next level. Email me! I'll hook yo ass up with Facebook links, background checks, credit reports, phone numbers, resumes, references, awards, sexual history, pictures of karate trophies and a list of the top 10 women I'd like to bang before I die. If you want a next-generation roommate who consistently blows your fucking mind with awesomeness, then hit me up. I'm ready to give you money.

Jogging Partner
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/dsm/2405055624.html
I am looking for a person of athletic build to help me get in shape. I hate exercising with passion so the plan of action is this: I ingest Rohypnol [you supply the roofies as I don't know where to purchase them] and you strap my body to yours [limbs to limbs using velcro] and take me along on a jog. Three nights a week. If you're capable and interested, E-mail me so that we can discuss the fee.

Autographed Copy of the Bible
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/wyo/2307315380.html
I've read it three times. Pretty boring.

How many boots does a Phoenician need?

2011-11-21T21:41:00.000-08:00

Not that many. Steve Madden.

Regina- let's be best friends.

2011-11-16T18:11:00.001-08:00

Why depression is kind of funny. By Hyperbole and a Half.

2011-11-14T08:10:00.000-08:00

Adventures in Depression
Some people have a legitimate reason to feel depressed, but not me. I just woke up one day feeling sad and helpless for absolutely no reason.

It's disappointing to feel sad for no reason. Sadness can be almost pleasantly indulgent when you have a way to justify it - you can listen to sad music and imagine yourself as the protagonist in a dramatic movie. You can gaze out the window while you're crying and think "This is so sad. I can't even believe how sad this whole situation is. I bet even a reenactment of my sadness could bring an entire theater audience to tears."But my sadness didn't have a purpose. Listening to sad music and imagining that my life was a movie just made me feel kind of weird because I couldn't really get behind the idea of a movie where the character is sad for no reason.

Essentially, I was being robbed of my right to feel self pity, which is the only redeeming part of sadness.And for a little bit, that was a good enough reason to pity myself.

Standing around feeling sorry for myself was momentarily exhilarating, but I grew tired of it quickly. "That will do," I thought. "I've had my fun, let's move on to something else now." But the sadness didn't go away.I tried to force myself to not be sad

But trying to use willpower to overcome the apathetic sort of sadness that accompanies depression is like a person with no arms trying to punch themselves until their hands grow back. A fundamental component of the plan is missing and it isn't going to work.

When I couldn't will myself to not be sad, I became frustrated and angry. In a final, desperate attempt to regain power over myself, I turned to shame as a sort of motivational tool.

But, since I was depressed, this tactic was less inspirational and more just a way to oppress myself with hatred.

Which made me more sad.

Which then made me more frustrated and abusive.

And that made me even more sad, and so on and so forth until the only way to adequately express my sadness was to crawl very slowly across the floor.

The self-loathing and shame had ceased to be even slightly productive, but it was too late to go back at that point, so I just kept going. I followed myself around like a bully, narrating my thoughts and actions with a constant stream of abuse.

I spent months shut in my house, surfing the internet on top of a pile of my own dirty laundry which I set on the couch for "just a second" because I experienced a sudden moment of apathy on my way to the washer and couldn't continue. And then, two weeks later, I still hadn't completed that journey. But who cares - it wasn't like I had been showering regularly and sitting on a pile of clothes isn't necessarily uncomfortable. But even if it was, I couldn't feel anything through the self hatred anyway, so it didn't matter. JUST LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE.

Slowly, my feelings started to shrivel up. The few that managed to survive the constant beatings staggered around like wounded baby deer, just biding their time until they could die and join all the other carcasses strewn across the wasteland of my soul.I couldn't even muster up the enthusiasm to hate myself anymore.

I just drifted around, completely unsure of what I was feeling or whether I could actually feel anything at all.

If my life was a movie, the turning point of my depression would have been inspirational and meaningful. It would have involved wisdom-filled epiphanies about discovering my true self and I would conquer my demons and go on to live out the rest of my life in happiness.Instead, my turning point mostly hinged upon the fact that I had rented some movies and then I didn't return them for too long.The late fees had reached the point where the injustice of paying any more than I already owed outweighed my apathy. I considered just keeping the movies and never going to the video store again, but then I remembered that I still wanted to re-watch Jumanji.I put on some clothes, put the movies in my backpack and biked to the video store. It was the slowest, most resentful bike ride ever.

And when I arrived, I found out that they didn't even have Jumanji in.Just as I was debating whether I should settle on a movie that wasn't Jumanji or go home and stare in abject silence, I noticed a woman looking at me weirdly from a couple rows over.

She was probably looking at me that way because I looked really, really depressed and I was dressed like an eskimo vagrant.Normally, I would have felt an instant, crushing sense of self-consciousness, but instead, I felt nothing.

I've always wanted to not give a fuck. While crying helplessly into my pillow for no good reason, I would often fantasize that maybe someday I could be one of those stoic badasses whose emotions are mostly comprised of rock music and not being afraid of things. And finally - finally - after a lifetime of feelings and anxiety and more feelings, I didn't have any feelings left. I had spent my last feeling being disappointed that I couldn't rent Jumanji.I felt invincible.

And thus began a tiny rebellion.

Then I swooped out of there like the Batman and biked home in a blaze of defiant glory.

And that's how my depression got so horrible that it actually broke through to the other side and became a sort of fear-proof exoskeleton.

Sickest shoes

2011-11-07T22:19:00.000-08:00

I am in love with these Nike Dunk X Liberty shoes. Maybe it's time for an early Christmas present- for myself.

Weirdest pregnancy photo ever.

2011-11-02T10:23:00.000-07:00

I know it was Halloween, but wtf?

My favorite model.

2011-10-30T12:32:00.001-07:00

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-30T12:31:00.001-07:00

One Love.

2011-10-18T08:10:00.001-07:00

Need Supply

2011-10-03T08:03:00.000-07:00

In my dreams, it is 65 and cloudy in Phoenix 10 mos. of the year. I get to wear sweaters/jackets/boots/scarves almost everyday, unless I'm in a summery mood and want to go swimming. In that case, it is 100 for two weeks and then summer is over. (the reality is much more depressing, trust me).

In this scenario, I own all of the outerwear from Need Supply above.

Doppelgangers

2011-10-01T11:23:00.000-07:00

So in the last post, I introduced you to Natalie. As I scrolled through her blog, gradually that 'Do I know this girl, she seems awfully familiar?' feeling crept in. Today I went over to her sister's blog and lo and behold found out that these two are Chinese/Spanish/Mexican- just like me and my sister who are half Mexican, half Chinese. (I have never met anyone who was Chinese and Mexican so this was some discovery) That familiar feeling was me being reminded of myself. I don't look just like Natalie or her sister but there is definitely a resemblance- they could be my long lost cousins.

The blogosphere is so surprising.

The cutest blogger

2011-09-30T19:40:00.000-07:00

Just discovered the cutest blogger- Natalie. Normally I don't like reading model blogs but she seems so much more normal and fun. Check it here.

Thrifting Tips

2011-09-20T18:11:00.000-07:00

So I scored again while thrifting today. On my lunch hour, I found a Sigur Olsen handbag for $15.00, Juicy Couture striped blazer for $23.00, American Apparel tank top for $3 and a very nice Halloween costume for my daughter for $6! The clerk commented "these are the best finds all day."

How is it I manage to so frequently luck out? Well, here are my thrifty girl tips:

Sheer tenacity and repetition: Lately I've been thrifting at least once a week. Sometimes I stop in for 10 mins., sometimes an hour depending on how much time I have and whether or not I get the general feeling there are treasures to be had. Unlike regular shopping, thrifting requires patience and a thick-skin. Many times you'll find zero, while other times you are rewarded with kick-ass deals. You must be willing to deal with the nothing times and have the stomach to shop in a store that smells like moth balls.

Try stuff on: Yes, trying on used, smelly clothes seems nasty, but you don't want another $2 piece of crap going unused in your closet. Unless you found an item you can definitely re-sell on ebay, try it on and avoid being a thrift store hoarder.

Know your brands and look at labels: Because I read fashion blogs so often and shop a lot, I know good brands from cheap brands. I know good fabric from crap fabric. This helps a lot when determining whether to purchase or whether a thrift store generally carries good cast-offs or not. Brands are important b/c I get a sense of how much it sold for originally. The cutest Forever 21 shirt ever at a thrift store is still not worth over $5. You never want to pay as much for something at a thrift store that you could buy from the original retailer for the same price or just a little more. While I love other people's cast offs, I'll always take the new item over the used.

Avoid stuff that doesn't fit/is not your style/etc.: A great deal is sometimes so exciting that you may go ahead and buy it even if it doesn't suit you or is not something you would have bought under other conditions. I experienced that feeling today several times. One was a really cool vintage dress, but it was at least two sizes too big and I knew I'd never get the gumption to get it altered so I passed. I also found a very cool pair of shoes 1/2 size too big. The old me would have bought them in a hot second, but the new, more cautious me (with closet space to share) put them back on the shelf. Avoid the temptation to buy something simply b/c it seems like a great deal (again, unless you're going to sell it on ebay).

Be able to shift expectations: So you stopped into a thrift store looking for work clothes but found an excellent sitting chair instead. Forget the clothes and buy the chair. Unlike a regular store, thrift store merchandise comes and goes. Sometimes a store has good clothes, while other times the same store's clothes are awful but the furniture selection is good. Go with the flow and adjust.

Never go into a thrift store hoping to find a specific item: Again, if you're hell bent on buying a very specific item, don't go to a thrift store to do it. You'll end up frustrated.

Identify neighborhood thrift stores and become a regular. If you begin going to 2 or 3 thrift stores often, it'll become routine and won't seem daunting. Since merchandise changes daily, you'll always be surprised.

Have fun and keep your eyes peeled.

Rooms.

2011-09-20T10:50:00.000-07:00

Missoni score.

2011-09-13T15:53:00.000-07:00

So...this collection has had the most insane response today. I went online at 8:30a.m. to check it out. The website was so crowded, I could not get on. Luckily, Target refreshes their site every 30 seconds automatically, so I simply had to leave the window open. I got access and at that time, most everything was still in stock. On my lunch hour, I went to the store nearest my work. Let me tell you- everything was sold out! Every single thing! A clerk told me they had people waiting for the doors to open and when they opened them, people ran in! To have a response like that in Phoenix is not typical. Usually the clerks have no idea what I'm talking about when I ask them about a designer collaboration.

Thus, defeated, I came back to work. I tried the website again and was able to get on after about an hour. I scored this dress. It's already going for $130 on ebay.
Phew.

Steez.

2011-09-12T11:26:00.000-07:00

I have an affinity for Kirsten Dunst and I like her style.

Best cover. Ever.

2011-09-12T09:39:00.000-07:00

Let's get depressed

2011-09-12T09:33:00.001-07:00

We all believe we'll never age. I have hopes of being the youngest looking old lady on earth. It's an absurd fantasy of course, I, like everyone else will show the signs of age. Read here if you'd like to know what those will be. Scary.

'Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt'

2011-09-07T08:02:00.001-07:00

My one and only.

2011-09-04T23:33:00.001-07:00

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new. ~Rajneesh

World's Largest Folk Art Market

2011-09-04T22:57:00.000-07:00

The Santa Fe International Folk Art Market is the largest folk art market in the world and run by a non-profit group. The mission of the Market is to foster economic and cultural sustainability for folk artists and folk art worldwide and to create intercultural exchange opportunities that unite the peoples of the world. I am thinking about going next July. For someone who could shop in open air markets all day long, it would be a dream. Read more here.

Sacred Heart Earrings

2011-09-04T21:53:00.000-07:00

My fantabulous mother-in-law gave me these sacred heart earrings the other day. They are handmade by a Mexican artist (don't know his name, but I'll find out soon). I love dangerous jewelry.

How-to

2011-09-02T23:40:00.001-07:00

I could watch how-to videos on youtube all day. From these, I learned how to make pillow cases, crochet, and do a smokey eye. With Wendy has some excellent videos for basic sewing without a pattern and tedious measurements. Check her out.

Missoni full lookbook

2011-09-02T17:49:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows about Missoni for Target, which debuts September 13th. See the full look book here (includes clothes for women, men, children, and household items).

Get substantive

2011-09-01T21:42:00.000-07:00

Peter Adamson, Professor of Ancient and Medieval Philosophy at King’s College London, has created a FREE podcast titled "The History of Philosophy Without Any Gaps." He covers every bit of philosophy beginning with PreSocrates and so far, has uploaded 43 episodes. Listen to these because you're not a reality star, you're a real person ergo it's not enough to look good, you actually have to know about shit. Listen here.

Because I'm a mom like that.

2011-09-01T10:49:00.000-07:00

Every now and then I happen upon Jezebel and remember all over again how funny it is. Two cheeky-ass articles about parenting got my attention yesterday. One called "'Where, Exactly, Is it Okay to Take Your Kid?" and ""How to Befriend Cool People When You've Got a Baby" struck a cord with, I'm guessing, moms like me: not old, not young, still consider themselves hip and not to be dismissed as 'just someone's mom.' As women wait longer to have kids, it seems like those of us who do it soon-ish (before 35) are categorized as washed up.

I try not to let my status as a mother define me, and I'm often complimented for it. One person told me 'you don't seem like a mom, I mean you talk about things other than your kid.' While I can take that as a compliment, part of me feels like I shouldn't have to avoid the topic altogether. As all parents know, kids have a way of dominating one's life and it's difficult not to mention anything about them, nor do I think we should try to. Of course I recognize that gushing about how great it is that your kid 'now has two front teeth! 'to a childless person is like talking about how awesome finding the exact shade of lipstick is to a man; it's a tedious fact. Children are not only sort of scary to the childless but also just not interesting or relevant in any way whatsoever. Before I had one, I could not understand what was so remarkable about pretty much anything a kid does.

Back in my party days, I had a friend who was vehemently anti-procreation. She wholeheartedly felt that having kids was a waste of time, and while I respect that position, I'm glad to say that we are no longer friends. My true, good friends enjoy spending time around my kid and while I don't need them to fawn over her 24/7, I like that they have welcomed her into our friendship and don't expect me to be indifferent about it. Secretly, (like all parents) I know that it is so much easier to be friends with other parents, and the super selfish me would love it if all my closest friends had kids (imagine the playdates and awesome joint birthday parties), however, I know that having friends sans kids allows me to continue to maintain my own identity as a separate person. One day my daughter will grow up and I'll need to have a life, too.

The evolution of Yoko

2011-08-31T16:45:00.000-07:00

December 31, 2011

February, 2011

July, 2011

Sometimes it has to be done...

2011-08-31T10:25:00.001-07:00

You think you're not the marrying type- but everyone falls in love.

Chandeliers

2011-08-31T10:14:00.001-07:00

Vintage book chandelier

Vintage slide chandelier.

You drink too much wine chandelier.

All etsy.

Because I'm blind

2011-08-31T09:57:00.001-07:00

This is the pair I bought.

I've worn glasses since I was 3 years old. It was only in my mid-20's that I started wearing contacts. In that time, I had every type of frame imaginable- from plastic pink kid frames to those big black square frames that were popular in the 90's (why did my mom let me do that?). I've currently had the same ones for about 3 years and just decided I want a change. I always, always wanted an awesome pair of cat eye frames. I found some on etsy for $37! They measure about the same size as my current ones, so hopefully this won't be a bust. I can't wait to get them!

If you decide to change your blog template...

2011-08-30T23:00:00.000-07:00

You may be dealing with it for 10 straight hours like me. If you checked my blog earlier today, you would have seen one iteration that I squashed. I fought with the damn thing all day and night! Luckily I fixed mine and now I like the design, but geez, I thought this was supposed to be user friendly.

I need another handbag like I need a hole in the...

2011-08-30T11:05:00.001-07:00

Ecko

Fossil

Hmong shoes

2011-08-30T10:54:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know where Hmong people live or originate, they are an ethnic group from the mountains of China, Laos, Vietnam, and Thailand. In my hometown (Fresno, CA) there is a very large Hmong population. The shoes above are from an ebay seller. These are traditional Hmong designs. It's only a matter of time before Anthropologie spies them and starts selling them for $400. For now, you can get them from $35-70 here.

What Men Like

2011-08-29T09:08:00.000-07:00

So for the time being, I've decided to let my hair grow. My husband told me he likes it long. Like men everywhere, he prefers long hair on women. He despises pixie cuts, even on Halle Berry (how is that possible?). He knows I'm irritated at the suggestion that long hair=femininity and we often discuss (i.e., argue) it. But, he's a man and like most men he can't seem to help his preference that women have long hair, tight clothes, and slim figures.
Last night, as we watched Project Runway, I asked him whether Anya's hair was cute (that adorable Trinidadian with long hair shaved on the sides). He said it was 'cool but not attractive.' This got at the essence of short, stylish hair on women vs. long, boring hair. While men may think a short hairstyle is 'interesting', they won't want to sleep with the woman wearing it. Of course there are exceptions and some men even prefer short hair, but let's be honest, the majority of men prefer their women to look just like all of the contestants on The Bachelor. If that doesn't depress the hell out of you, I don't know what would.

This being said, do I style myself only to be attractive to my husband or men in general? I would think not, however, I can't deny that I want to be attractive to my spouse and also present my best looking self to others. No one wants to be thought of as unattractive, and I especially try to avoid looking like a 'mom who has given up' at all costs. I think women will always struggle with wanting to please themselves and everyone else in the looks department. That's why implants and painful plastic surgeries will never go away. And this gets at another huge inequity between men and women. How many men, on average, are willing to suffer or live with looks they'd rather not simply to be beautiful? Not many. Yet so many men are totally comfortable judging a women's looks when they, themselves, do nothing to improve their own appearance. How many times have you heard a rather overweight, unattractive man pick apart a woman's looks? I know I have too many times.
Maybe the next time a man criticizes your appearance or some other woman's tell him to 'f-- off' and go to the gym. Would that help?

Horses

2011-08-29T09:04:00.001-07:00

Asos dress

Atlantic Pacific

Like my two year old, I love clothes with animals on them.

Today's my lucky day

2011-08-25T19:58:00.000-07:00

J. Crew

Madewell.

I hit it big at the thrift store today. On my lunch hour, I happened to stop in one I never go to. I ended up with 4 pairs of pants (all either Ann Taylor or Banana Republic), an Ann Taylor tweed skirt, and an almost brand-new pair of Stewart Weitzman pumps all for under $40. Shopping jackpot!

On another note, I am in love with the skirts above. At first I thought the silhouette was too granny but now I'm thinking it's super cute. Too bad they cost five times each what I paid for my thrift finds today...

Style inspiration

2011-08-22T13:19:00.000-07:00

Long hair is so overrated. I get to a point where my hair is just below my shoulders and think 'cool girls do not have long hair.' Diane from Trainspotting illustrates this.

Around the blogosphere

2011-08-19T08:41:00.000-07:00

In the 90's

2011-07-20T21:29:00.001-07:00

Med. School Party

2011-07-20T21:09:00.000-07:00

This past weekend we had a party to congratulate my little sister for getting into medical school. My fabulous, creative cousin decorated using a school/medicine theme. The result was pure whimsy. I particularly loved the vintage Reader's Digest books, bound in gorgeous prints. See more at her blog: Creationz. The party was also featured here.

Missoni for Target

2011-07-20T21:03:00.000-07:00

Rug and Bike

Missoni for Target will debut in the fall with 400 pieces! Momentous.

For the home.

2011-07-20T08:03:00.000-07:00

Urban Outfitters.

Etsy.

Home Decorators Collection

Etsy

Urban Outfitters.

Etsy.

So it is.

2011-06-06T21:12:00.000-07:00

Not too long ago, I sat in a book club. We were discussing The Help. You've probably heard of it as there's a movie coming out It's one of those NYT bestsellers that book clubs love- light reading, not terribly well-written, but with a decent plot and just enough drama. Think Eat, Pray, Love or anything by Ann Patchett. As I sat there with some very nice women, all my age, in one of their very large houses (a mansion by most standards), it hit me that I have become a middle-class perhaps even upper middle-class (statistically speaking) married, mom. Maybe it was the subject of house slaves in the 1960's that made me feel so...vanilla. Normal. Maybe it was the Mom-talk that the conversation inevitably fell into. Maybe it was the mansion and Milanos. For whatever reason it finally hit me that by all measures, I am living a middle-class, comfortable life. I don't have the picket fence, but I have the successful husband, daughter, toy dogs, and easy, white-collar job. These are all good things- I'm lucky to have them, yet not a day goes by that I don't think "what am I actually doing to help anyone other than myself?"

Is it white guilt? But I'm not white. I grew up middle-class but my family was and still is plagued by the effects of generations of poverty. I was the first on my mom's side to graduate college.

This is not a new revelation. I've always been bothered by class systems. It seems to magnify as I get older (and wiser?). Just flip through TV and you'll see our society's obsession with rich people. Real Housewives and the Kardashians are on the air arguably only because of their wealth. Where are the programs about the poor people? The people struggling to eat? We're not smitten with such programs because they'd show us what we'd rather not think about. Sometimes I look around and all I see is this injustice, the hurt and suffering that people without jobs, families, healthcare, or even food endure. And I feel guilty. Yes, I feel guilty; for going to book clubs, for having a house cleaner, for having all the luxuries I take for granted. In essence, for being a middle-class person. In my work, I talk to students who struggle to get by and I think 'is this the best we can do for them?" Because food stamps and cash aid only go so far and in the end, it doesn't give anyone what they really need to overcome- an education. National education statistics will tell you that we're more than failing on that end.

Skinny is not always better.

2011-06-06T15:47:00.001-07:00

Yes, that's Maria Shriver

With swimsuit season here, let's remind ourselves that skinny is not always better.

Trying

2011-05-25T09:52:00.001-07:00

Last night, in hoping to fall asleep, I tried to think of the one word that described me. The word I came up with is 'trying.' It seems fitting that someone as hyper as I would come up with a verb to describe themselves. What I realize is that I am always 'trying' at something or other. For example, currently I am trying to:

Smoke less

Talk less, listen more

Be less stressed about work

Exercise

I once read that Americans are obsessive self-improvers. I wonder if this is a good trait. How can we live in the moment when we are constantly worried about how we could do better? I share this cursed obsession. For me, not an hour goes by that I'm not wondering how I might improve in some aspect or another (I could have written that email more clearly. I could have smoked half a cigarette instead of a whole. You get my drift). My constant worry over self-improvement has helped me in a lot of areas but also plagues me. So I'm working on worrying less. Ironically, it's another 'trying' moment.

On not drinking.

2011-05-17T21:01:00.001-07:00

I guess I've decided this blog will be my journal. In keeping with my generation of over-sharers, it seems fit that I should broadcast the ins and outs. Why not? So here's my confession: I'm an alcoholic. I've been sober two months. I stay that way going to group therapy and individual therapy once a week. I'm 30 years old and was a binge drinker for 10 of those. That's a long time to be absent. I don't have an interesting 'bottom', as most people think all alcoholics do. I never got a DUI or arrested. Never lost a job or relationship. I was never hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. What I know now is I was lucky AND that one can be an alcoholic without having their life in the toilet.

I was and am a recreational drinker who could never stop at 1. So I chose to grow up. Being sober this long and trying to stay that way has brought some very interesting facts to light. One: our society seems to have a very high tolerance for alcoholism. I am continually amazed at the stories I hear of very clear alcoholics (my counselor defines addiction as 'continued use of an intoxicant even after experiencing negative consequences') who tell me they're fine with having '5 drinks a night' or that they 'become uncomfortable if they do not have access to wine.' I'm not saying that everyone who likes alcohol is an addict, (plenty are not) just that we seem to have a poor understanding of what constitutes a problem. Part of alcohol's romance is that it seems so very inoffensive. So you have a cocktail or 3 a night- who doesn't? Even your own mother drinks it! What we'd like not to think about is that it's a way to alter our mood- to forget the things we'd like to forget, if only for a few hours.

I am learning to navigate the days without the relief I'd leaned on for so many years. It no longer seems a travesty that I will live life without a beer or glass of wine- it's even freeing in a way.

This sad, beautiful fact

2011-04-26T08:09:00.000-07:00

NPR recently ran a story called 'The Sad, Beautiful Fact That We're All Going to Miss Almost Everything.' The author's case is that none of us will ever, ever, even if we wanted to, digest all the books, plays, art, dance, music that has ever been made. Thus, each of us has to 'cull' our information. Some people do this by culling entire genres, years, areas. You probably have that 1 friend who has declared: 'TV sucks and fries your brain' or that 'all books after 1915 are not worth reading.' etc. According to the writer, we do this, because we have to- the sheer, vast amount of information available to us is so big, so large-scale in its depth, breadth and simple existence that we will never be able to digest it.

Sadly, most of us are going to miss everything. And I'm ok with it. I cull. My husband jokes that I am woefully ignorant of any books, art, movies, or poetry created before 1980. With the exception of the Beatniks, he's right. Last night I finally started reading John Irving and you know what? He's great. Amazing. I'm sorry I didn't read him 10 years ago. And this thought is exhausting, because now I have to read all his books or I'll miss something great.

The problem with tats.

2011-04-24T21:04:00.001-07:00

First, don't let my title mislead you. I love tattoos. I have tattoos, four originally, one removed. As a kid, I spent a lot of my childhood in San Francisco. We'd go there one, two times a month. What I remember most is the beautiful girls with a few well placed, well done tattoos. It must have seeped into my subconscious because once I turned 21 I went out and got me one of those well placed tattoos. I've been thinking of getting another one- a beautifully designed chinese stamp written in the mysterious script style and specially made for me by a Canadian artist. It may be cliche, but I am Chinese and I could go for one with 'meaning.'

The problem lies with my job. As I've said, I'm a librarian- a recently promoted librarian, in fact, and my work dress code is strict. It's actually the strictest dress code I've ever encountered and I have had A LOT of jobs. I'd put my number at easily over a dozen- my social security statement tells me I've been contributing since 1997. Wow that's young. Anyway, this isn't making sense, as the episode with Zoe Deschanel on Weeds is on and I"m distracted.

Just take this advice from me ladies-considering-tattoos: Make sure they're beautiful, well placed and can be covered. Even though you think you'll never work a 'square job' shit changes.

Books to read- now.

2011-04-24T20:59:00.000-07:00

Up WAY too late.

2011-04-24T02:58:00.000-07:00

I have insomnia. I wrote this letter to my daughter tonight in the thought that I'll give it to her once she turns an appropriate age (16, 17, 23?). I hope it makes interesting reading.

April 24, 2011

Dear E,

As I write this, you are two years old. You are probably curious to know what you were like at this age. At the moment it’s 2:30 am and I can’t sleep. I started writing this letter in my head and thought ‘why not do it now, the night keeps going anyway.’ I can tell you without exaggeration that everyone you know has claimed you to be the ‘smartest two year old they’ve ever seen.’ I’d like to say that’s gross exaggeration, but unfortunately, it seems to be very near the truth. Your old daycare said it, your new one, grammy, her friends, your aunties- they all seem to say it. Take this for an example: Today you and I had a conversation about blue horses. You wanted to know why some horses aren’t blue. I replied that I don’t know why but it’s sure unfortunate and maybe one day you’d figure out the problem of no blue horses and fix it. You responded: ‘oh really?' and walked down the hall to tell your father.

I have wanted to write this letter since you were born. Two years procrastination isn’t bad, I suppose. Deep down, I sometimes feel like being a mother, raising a child is built up of fleeting, significant moments in time. Together those moments make a person and I am terrified I’ll forget them. You are growing up too fast right before me. Today I had to buy you five pairs of new shorts. The old ones are all ‘too tight’ as you have informed me; yet another phase is here. If I don’t grab it, it’ll be gone.

First off, your father and I planned to have you. I always knew I wanted a daughter, had pictured what she might be like. The moment I saw you, swaddled tight and yelling your head off, I knew I’d gotten the thing I’d wanted most. You are more you than anyone I know. You are curious, strong, brave, willful, capable, immovable, beautiful, smart. I wonder how someone so dynamic came out of me. I wonder what I did to deserve something so special. Unfortunately, this fact keeps me up at night. I recognize the treasure sleeping in her crib down the hall and I am terrified I might lose it. I lie awake thinking of the terrible things this world has in store for a beautiful little girl and I reach near panic. I bought a baseball bat at the store today. It’s under my bed, ready to meet the head, knee, back of anyone who might get an idea to break in and lay a finger on you. I never knew myself to be a violent person, but as your father has said, I am a ‘ferocious mother.’

Always understand that we have done our best, are doing our best. You are loved to a degree that is oftentimes ridiculous. The only advice I have to give is this: Be kind and be you. There is no greater challenge in this world than accepting others and yourself. Thirty years has taught me this. You will be lucky if it takes you half the time.

With infinite love,

Mom.

PS- Read books. Lots of books. You'll find everything there.

Mini Hipsters

2011-04-22T14:32:00.000-07:00

Accidentally found the site Mini Hipsters. It's what the name says for sure.

Slacking, again.

2011-04-05T22:43:00.000-07:00

I've been a bad blogger- sorry! Check out this monogrammed jewelry from Sarah Chloe. I'm so getting one.

Salma.

2011-03-09T20:53:00.000-08:00

No way.

2011-03-08T13:48:00.000-08:00

Snooki in Wonderland paperback. Only 99cents!

Awesome.

2011-03-08T07:00:00.001-08:00

In love.

2011-03-02T09:19:00.000-08:00

Just do it.

2011-02-25T10:12:00.000-08:00

I was talking to a friend recently about the dream her dad has of being a writer. According to her, he's never actually written one word. Frustrated, she bought him a journal and told him to try writing at least one word a day. He still hasn't.

I think we all know someone like this or have been that person ourselves. I, too have fancied myself a 'writer' and occasionally daydream of writing a book or short story that will instantly be accepted for publication and propel me to fame. (Sort of a ridiculous dream considering that most writers never achieve fame on any large scale. It becomes doubly ridiculous when I admit that I have never actually written fiction) In college I took umpteen creative writing courses and came away with the utterly useless English degree so many college kids whose only interest is 'reading and writing' pursue. I tried my hand at 'writing' but was discouraged to the point of surrender when a boyfriend told me my writing sounded 'amateur.'

Now that I am in a comfortable mental place in life (i.e., a realistic, medicated one) I have come to the overwrought and rather cheesy conclusion that one does not have to achieve any type of fame or recognition in order to consider oneself 'something.' I am a writer, simply because I write. This blog counts. The letters I write count. The monthly newsletter I write for my college counts. Am I famous or even remotely heard of for writing? No. But I am still a writer goddammit. Maybe you dream of being a photographer. Then pick up a camera and take a picture. Presto, you're a photographer! Is music your passion? Sing one song a day- you're a musician!

This may be too damn trite for many of you to swallow, but I urge you to keep the bile taste of cynicism at bay and hear me out. Adulthood and the daily grind hijacks so many of our dreams and hobbies that most of us are loathe to paint, dance, sing, or write for fear we are too 'amateur.' We are told that pursuing an art or interest is only worthwhile if it makes us money or lands us on TV. Thus, one is only a 'writer' if he/she is paid money for it. One is only a 'musician' if someone has hired her to perform. How and when this slow transformation from doing what one loves with no reservations, to believing that one must be a 'professional' to do it at all, is a mystery. Ask a child if they like to draw and most will say yes with little hesitancy. Does a 4 year old give a shit if an 'expert' has deemed their art 'good enough?' We all know the answer to that.

It reminds me of a rap song by Aesop Rock called 'Lucy' that I have always loved. Its lyrics go:

Lucy was 7 and wore a head of blue barettes
City born, into this world with no knowledge and no regrets
Had a piece of yellow chalk with which she'd draw upon the street
The many faces of the various locals that she would meet

And she drew
Men, women, kids, sunsets, clouds
And she drew...

Lucy was 87 upon her death bed

At the senior home, where she had previously checked in
Traded in the locks and clips for a head rest
Traded in the charcoal sticks for arthritis, it had to happen

And she drew no more, just sat and watched the dawn
Had a television in the room that she'd never turned on
Lucy pinned up a life worth's of pictures on the wall
And sat and smiled, looked each one over, just to laugh at it all

She'd never spoken once throughout the spanning of her life
Until the day she leaned forward, grinned and pulled the nurse aside
And she said:

"Look, I've never had a dream in my life
Because a dream is what you wanna do, but still haven't pursued
I knew what I wanted and did it till it was done
So i've been the dream that I wanted to be since day one!"
Well!

The nurse jumped back,
She'd never heard Lucy even talk,
'Specially words like that
She walked over to the door, and pulled it closed behind
Then Lucy blew a kiss to each one of her pictures
And she died.

Draw, write, sing, dance, roller skate, cook, whatever.

Warms my cold, cold heart.

2011-02-24T09:23:00.000-08:00

Before: January 1, 2011

After: February 23, 2011

Remember Yoko? Well look at her now. After a good teeth cleaning, healthy diet, plenty of play and affection, and a hair comb, she's a beauty.

Books.

2011-02-21T08:24:00.001-08:00

Not sure if I've ever mentioned that in addition to being an intrepid complainer, Mom, wife, half-Asian, half-Mexican clothes loving, fringe having, tattooed lady- I'm also a librarian - that is, a Master's degree in Library and Information Science holding, real-life, underpaid, and underappreciated librarian, thus it is my duty to push books the way a drug dealer pushes meth. Here are some recent ones I've read (or am reading) and recommend.

"And she never complained."

2011-02-21T06:43:00.000-08:00

This blog is fast becoming a sort of editorial column in which I muse or rant and rave about various aspects of life. That's ok with me, I hope it is with you. Fashion is fun, shopping is great, but it can only sustain us so long.

I recently went to an event in memory of a woman who had died. Her husband gave a moving speech about his wife. One of the descriptions he gave of her was that she 'raised our children, supported my career, and never complained.' I relayed this to my husband who promptly replied 'well, I'll never be able to say that about you.' Everyone who knows me knows I have never suffered from repression. I say what I feel and think, sometimes (a lot of times) to my detriment.

Coming from a long line of Mexican women who are completely fine with voicing their maladies and hardships, real and pretend, I have never viewed 'complaining' as a sign of weak character or bratiness, but rather a dialogue that we share with ourselves and others relaying our experiences. Not to mention that when people speak of 'complaining' they are usually speaking of women and their inability to somehow bear the burden of life without saying a word about it. Complain about your children? You're a miserable wretch who doesn't deserve them. Complain about housework? You're lucky to even have a house! Your back hurts? Then stop sitting around like a lazy ass so much and do yoga! You hate your job? You're lucky to have one in this economy! Etc. Etc.

*{And let's not even get started on a political discourse that says any 'complaining' about our government is tantamount to terrorism and one should 'love it or leave it.'}

While there is a fine line between 'complaining' and 'whining,' I wonder how being a person who 'never complains' became a virtue. We wouldn't tell a child to stop 'complaining' if he/she is getting bullied or molested. We wouldn't tell a man to stop 'complaining' when he gets fired from his job. But somehow 'complaining' about routine aspects has gotten a bad rap, as have so many facets of life that expose the grainy shit that we'd all like to pretend isn't there: illness, marital strife, workplace woes, social inequities, problems with children and relatives. If you think I'm being dramatic, try telling the truth the next time a co-worker or acquiantance asks you 'how you're doing.' Do you think they really give a shit about your head cold or credit card bill worries? The only acceptable answer to 'how you doing?' is 'fine.' Everyone knows that.

Perhaps in a perfect world no one would complain and well then, nothing would change. How's that for a nightmare.

Promise not kept.

2011-02-16T15:31:00.000-08:00

At some point I promised not to make this a mommy blog or even an 'it's all about me blog' but it's a New Year and shit changes. So if you loathe reading about domestic life or cannot relate, I advise you to skip this post. I'm not offended:)

You and I both know I have a 2 year old daughter. It is already the case that my husband and I are bombarded with the 'so when is her sibling coming?' questions. Strangers, friends, family, all seem to have pretty strong opinions about the need for siblings and the so-called 'only child syndrome.' So far I've heard:

"She can't be the only one! You'll spoil her to death."

"You know, all the only children I know are (spoiled, selfish, terrible, self-centered, lonely) ____."

"Everyone needs a sibling."

"Who will she play with?"

"Only children don't have social skills, you know that, right?"

Etc. Etc.

I smile and pretend that we're still thinking about having another, when in fact I am less than 1% interested in having another child. So far every one of our friends with a child my daughter's age have already had their second or are pregnant with their second. Facebook and blogs have given me a front row seat to this domestic arrangement and I will be honest in saying juggling two children looks scary and downright impossible. We've all seen the 2-kid mommy posts: "Breastfeeding Timmy while making Jimmy a grilled cheese." or "I'm so tired! Both kids have the flu and I haven't slept in 2 days." I don't begrudge those who choose to do this, everyone has the right to choose their ideal family size but for me (and it seems I am in the minority here), the 1 child I have feels complete.

Not planning for more children frees me up to focus on the impossibly perfect child I already have. Gone are so many of the worries about sibling age gaps, nanny costs, working vs. staying at home (a discussion that becomes necessary when two kids in daycare becomes ridiculously expensive), double strollers, and sleeping arrangements. Rather than worry over a shadowy, still unformed second child, I revel in the one I have and cherish her childhood as the fleeting miracle it is.

What I share with all mothers is the feeling that I could not possibly love another child the way I love my daughter. They say it is possible- that you do truly love the second as much as the first, but another part of me knows that I'll never get this lucky twice. In my mind's eye, my perfect child has been born; the one I always knew I'd have: strong, beautiful, unwavering, curious, brave, capable. The only vision I ever had of a child is her.

Dreams.

2011-02-15T08:25:00.000-08:00

"Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for." -- Epicurus

Planet Blue

2011-02-15T08:10:00.001-08:00

Planet Blue.

Whidbey Island

2011-02-14T12:52:00.000-08:00

I spent an amazing weekend in Whidbey Island off Seattle.

I love fringe.

2011-02-05T20:37:00.001-08:00

Minnetonka makes handbags. I didn't know this.

It's still cold outside

2011-02-02T06:50:00.000-08:00

All Forever 21.

My birthday shoes.

2011-02-02T06:41:00.001-08:00

Can't wait to wear them and smell them and gaze lovingly at them.

Do you ever get the urge?

2011-02-01T19:30:00.001-08:00

To do something...else? I remember being a kid and being so goddamned motivated. I was a musician as a child and would play for hours and hours, practicing the same piece over and over and screaming in frustration when I couldn't get it right. But I never gave up and I never took the easy route. I was the same way as a teen- going for what I wanted with a tenacity that seemed strange to my slacker friends. It may have been in college when I started to get lazy and take the easy way out. I found I could get by without studying very hard, without trying. I coasted through school, often showing up to class hungover and many times still drunk.

Although I'm nearing 30 (two weeks away to be exact) and have a pretty satisfying career sometimes I wish I had not taken the road of least resistance. While I am perfectly content at home, I often find myself wanting more from a profession. Anyone who knows me knows this. My husband says my continual struggle is with "what I want to be when I grow up."

I know that odds are if I had a satisfying professional life, my personal one might be sacrificed-for life has a way of fucking us and we can't always get what we want. I am not so naive as to not understand this basic fact.

The adult paradox.

Solidarity

2011-02-01T06:53:00.000-08:00

"When an individual is protesting society's refusal to acknowledge his dignity as a human being, his very act of protest confers dignity on him." -- Bayard Rustin

Thrift store finds.

2011-01-30T19:44:00.000-08:00

This is actually a cookie jar.

Vintage tray. Better than using coasters.

Super 70s purse.

This recliner is not as ugly as it looks especially for only $37. It is incredibly unfortunate that recliners are so comfortable yet so slovenly. They are the sweatpants of furniture.

Thankful for.

2011-01-28T15:16:00.000-08:00

Fridays will be a 'things I'm thankful for post.'

The public library: Yesterday I picked up 5 CD's, two novels and two DVD's. All free!
Coke Zero
French movies (watched Seraphine this week)
Netflix streaming- the greatest invention of all time for media fiends.
Afternoon naps
The zoo

What are you thankful for this week?

Give yourself a free virtual makeover

2011-01-27T07:08:00.001-08:00

So after asking 90% of everyone I know whether I should dye my hair and what color (I'm obsessive and like to work off loose surveys I create myself) I utilized a suggestion and tried a virtual makeover. Daily Glow was the best, but I also found a top 10 list for virtual hairstyle and makeover sites.

Remember that tree branch...

2011-01-26T13:28:00.001-08:00

I found on my walk? Here it is in my living room.

Media recently consumed and recommended.

2011-01-26T06:56:00.000-08:00

I might get them...

2011-01-26T06:46:00.000-08:00

My birthday's coming up and my darling Mother-in-law wants to buy me something I would never buy myself. I have been obsessing over these House of Harlow shoes since they came out a year ago. But how can one justify $225 mocassins? I am still undecided.

My (virtual) life is more amazing than yours.

2011-01-25T12:41:00.000-08:00

I just read the most interesting article titled 'Why I can't stop reading Mormon housewife blogs' on Salon. Although the blogs are written by Mormon mothers, they are essentially lifestyle blogs that could be written by any hip, urban woman that romanticize the notion of family, marriage, and the DIY aesthetic. I was intrigued.

As I scanned a few, I found only one or two vague references to Mormonism. Not only that, the women are far from frumpy Big Love housewives- they live in NYC, San Francisco and are seriously stylish (I'm talking lots of bangs and vintage) all while being glowingly pregnant, fresh-faced and happily married. The blogs are not religious based or creepy but are more in the vein of 'look how great my life is! I am so happy and crafty and cute!"

While the Mormonism is somewhat interesting what I find most intriguing about these blogs and the blogosphere/online social networking in general is the ability to take the best parts of one's life and magnify them. You can make your life seem as fun and lighthearted as you want. An alien might read these blogs and believe that modern life is lovely, easy, full of pleasantry and baked goods. Nothing costs money and everyone smiles a lot.

Reading this Mormon blog made me envious of this woman's life. As does reading some of my more positive friends' Facebook updates. I would call myself happy and somewhat crafty, but compared to the constant "I love my family! So excited to go on that Caribbean cruise. "Just made cookies from scratch!" my life looks well...boring and less fulfilling in comparison. It's not true, of course and just because I don't praise my life to a chokehold doesn't mean I'm not perfectly excited to be living it. But reading the barrage of 'I loves' is enough to make me want to up my Zoloft.

This doesn't mean I won't keep reading them, it's good to give cynicism a rest and surrender to the mushy goodness. But part of me feels that life would be more tolerable if we were all a little more honest with ourselves and each other. Maybe not. Who knows.

Last night's conversation will be in my book...

2011-01-24T09:26:00.000-08:00

My husband: I think he thinks I'm pretentious.

Me: Why do you think that?

My husband: Because I am.

More hair changes.

2011-01-24T09:08:00.000-08:00

Two months has gone by since my last hair transformation. I'm now considering a dye job. I only died my hair once that I can recall- it was an unfortunate high school DIY incident. My worry with this hair color is that I'm half-Asian and most Asians look terrible with light brown hair. But... no pain, no gain.

In other news, my thrift store experiment is in full effect. I purchased a few goods last week that I'll show you soon. I also picked up a couple of errant tree branches on my walk yesterday and have used them to cleverly decorate my house. (in all honesty I snapped one off its tree- it'll grow back) Pics. coming soon.

Beautiful consumers.

2011-01-19T07:29:00.000-08:00

If I were to be honest with you, I'd tell you that one of the reasons for my blogging hiatus was due to the extremely consumerist nature of so many of the blogs I love. It doesn't take a magic fairy to make an expensive outfit look good on just about anyone-- truth be told, almost any young, beautiful girl will look even more young and beautiful when wearing a $600 pair of shoes or $200 bracelet. While the media totes fashion blogs as wedding cheap fashion with designer fare, 90% of the blogs I read feature impossibly expensive shit. Even the 'cheap' stuff is not that cheap. Last I checked, a $30 American Apparel shirt is not a bargain for most people.

I'm not knocking the blogs, I'm saying that after a year or so of reading them as one might read a newspaper (that is to say, daily) a person (me) might start to feel broke, tired, and a wee bit disgusted at the unabashed glorification of spending. Does a person really need 5 pairs of identical black wedges or a $500 Alexander Wang t-shirt? It starts to become ridiculous.

So...I have decided for the next few months (haven't decided how long) to only buy clothing and accessories from thrift stores. I have more than enough clothing as it is. Plus, as any thrift store shopper knows, shopping at a thrift store is WAY more tedious. It can take hours to find anything. Unlike Forever 21 or Target, you have to allott a good chunk of time to thrift store shopping, making 'impulsive' purchases much less likely. And let's not forget the 'eco' quotient.

I don't know what I'm hoping to accomplish with this project. Maybe a few months (if I last that long) of less guilt over being a consumerist whore. Maybe a cheaper credit card bill and thus, happy husband. We shall see.

And speaking of fabulous bloggers...

2011-01-18T07:30:00.000-08:00

She's brunette, British, adorable, and cheeky. She draws. She says things like: "You know when you buy and love an item SO MUCH that you want to wear it EVERY DAY but that would be weird so you settle for wearing it every other day but people still give you that look. That look that says "You really love that jumper, don't you? Have you washed it yet?""

And you think, Yes, yes that happens to me all the time! See her here: Canned Fashion.

Beautiful children.

2011-01-18T07:24:00.000-08:00

"The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time." -- William Butler Yeats

Read my sister's blog (and not just because we're related)

2011-01-18T07:17:00.000-08:00

I mentioned in a previous post that my little sister has a blog. Well, after her entire year of no shopping, no looking at magazines, no reading blogs, no window shopping, nothing- yes, she accomplished such a superhuman feat for an entire year!- she is back to blogging w/ a fabulous new camera. Even if I didn't know her I'd read it. More amazingness here: Back Row Jane

Slow year in blogging, but not in activities. My year in (re) view.

2011-01-05T09:39:00.001-08:00

I was a blogging slacker this year and I apologize. But don't go thinking it's my New Year's 'resolution' to blog more. I don't particularly like resoutions, as I suspect is the case for many of you. They seem to be set-ups for failure- or maybe I just say that because I am a person of low self-control. If you want to improve your life shouldn't you want to do it all the time?

Anyway, just because I wasn't blogging doesn't mean I was sitting around depressed in bed doing nothing. I still had interests and discovered some pretty entertaining stuff to fill my days.

Reading: I've been reading quite a bit. In particular I discovered that not all mysteries are hideously written. I recommend the author Tana French (currently has a bestseller) for smart, interesting mysteries that may compel you to stay up until 2 am reading non-stop. For those who appreciate literary fiction, I recommend TC Boyle and Paul Auster- both witty, astonishing writers who are so expert at creating stories they make you wish you knew all the people in them so you could hug them or slap them or give them whatever they deserve.

Sedona, Arizona: I have spent the last 4 years in Phoenix bitching about the weather, suburban-ness and the politics. Sure there are many things to like about Phoenix-- it's cheap, we have family here, know lots of people, I've been able to get great jobs pretty easily-- but IT'S PHOENIX (Not San Francisco or Portland or some other cool urban place). Over the winter break, we went to Sedona for the third time and I realized how amazing it is. Only an hour and a half away from Phoenix, Sedona is nothing short of incredible. It certainly makes up for any lack of scenery in Phoenix. It's beautiful, new age-y, the people are friendly and it's close enough to go for day trips. So Phoenix is no San Francisco but it has Sedona!

Compassion for animals, particularly dogs: This is Yoko. I rescued her on Thursday. Partly due to my job, (which has a veterinary assisting program) I have re-discovered my love for animals. As a kid I loved animals and would worry for days on end about strays I saw on the streets or about my parent's cat who they insist on housing outside. Once I got older, I was too broke or concerned with other issues to think about it.

It recently occurred to me that I could actually do something to help stray animals now that I'm a grown-up with my own house and dough so I decided to take in a new dog. Yoko is middle aged (probably 8) and has horrific breath, but she is a great lady and seems to appreciate her new home. It was a plus that I got to give her the name I so love and wanted to give my daughter.

Documentaries: Yes, documentaries are sometimes tedious, but if you take the patience to get into them they can be very enlightening. My favorite this year was Exit Through the Gift Shop. Maybe it's a Banksy prank, maybe it's not. Either way it was fascinating as hell and makes you wonder if Banksy is hot. His profile looks like it.

I Heart Ronson & JCPenney: This pic is tiny but it's a fabulous dress I bought from the I Heart Ronson collection at JCPenney. I wore it to a wedding and for $30 looked like I had spent much more. All the clothes in the collection are well-made and affordable. I contemplated buying everything I saw but decided I was too cheap. It is definitely worth checking out and the expression on people's faces when you tell them you bought what you're wearing at JCPenney is an extra bonus.

Last but not least: Family life.

I could write a book about this subject (although I'm not sure how many more books the world needs about motherhood and marriage), but I'll try to sum it up. This blog has never been about my family life and so to some extent, I have hidden it from public view. I fully understand that those without children and husbands find this subject hopelessly banal. I get that, I was there once too. So stop reading if this bores you but keep reading if you have ever thought: 'what would it be like?'

I have been married for 3.5 years and am the mother of a toddler. It is difficult to sum up the feeling of finding yourself a month away from turning 30 and now responsible for the happiness and well-being of two people and two dogs. I could say "I'm now a grown-up" but that doesn't quite cover it, does it? Those without kids and husbands are also grown-ups.

What I can say is that everyday, perhaps after a long day's work, I look in the mirror and can honestly say: "today I fed, clothed, cleaned-up after, nurtured, and tried my best to love another human being." Whether this makes me an adult or a good person or a mother or wife is a moot point. Whether I have succeeded is another issue entirely.

The fact is that in 4 short years my life has been upended by my responsibilities and I HAVE LOVED NOTHING MORE. Being the wife of a dreamer and the mother of a wild imp has been my greatest feat. While these facts do not define or constrain me, they give me the strength and will to be a more generous, caring person.

For those who are contemplating starting a family or getting married this year, I can't give you any advice other than to say: don't be fooled. Just because everyone does it, doesn't mean it's easy or the thing for you. One only needs to look at the divorce rate or number of single parents to know that keeping a family intact is no easy job. If you choose to do it, do it well, never look back, and be prepared to occasionally lose your mind.

That is all. Happy New Year.

Halcoholic

2010-09-15T08:11:00.000-07:00

The most beautiful blogger in the world, Halcoholic (who just had a baby and is married to a real life rock star). She reminds me of her, but way more hardcore and less whiney.

Sometimes e-mail forwards...

2010-09-13T10:10:00.000-07:00

Are not all cheesy cartoons and God-related.

Wanting baby bangs.

2010-09-07T16:51:00.000-07:00

Every month I get in a hair rut. Last month it was a clip-in weave. This month it's a nagging desire for baby bangs.

Need to post-- Found something cool.

2010-09-07T16:36:00.000-07:00

Ok, it has been months and months since I posted. I am lazy and bore easily. But...I am also fickle. I recommence.

While on Sea of Shoes, I discovered the blog 'A Journey Round My Skull: Unhealthy book festishism from a reader, collector, and amateur historian.' It is, as it sounds-- Amazing. Check out some pics.

Say Yes.

2010-07-06T21:12:00.000-07:00

Yes Style.

Coffee and some wit.

2010-06-17T08:21:00.000-07:00

Retro humor mugs from Cafe Press.

I have no excuse.

2010-06-15T09:45:00.000-07:00

Long time, no blogging. What can I say? I got bored. I always wondered what bloggers meant when they said they hadn't blogged due to boredom. How boring is it to post one thing a day? I get it now, though. Sometimes you just decide to do other things. In my case 'other things' include watching lots of TV/movies, work, and running after a maniacal toddler. Anywho, I recently contributed my tat to the tumblr 'Fuck Yeah, Tattoos!' I'm famous!

It's a painting by an artist named Kee Hee Lee titled 'In Solitude.' I got it 8 years ago at the tender age of 21. I had to get it re-done about 2 years ago due to some serious fading. People often tell me it looks like a watercolor, which I agree with. I can't say everyone likes it, one person actually asked me if it was a tattoo of weeds. Hmm. People. are. so. weird.

I still like it after 8 years. If you can say that much about a tat, that's pretty good.

Prayers.

2010-05-18T10:50:00.000-07:00

Prayer flags on Etsy.