Saturday, February 28, 2009
The warm weather is appearing. My hair is becoming a little more shiny. The spring fashion issue of Elle is sitting on my coffee table. And for the past two weeks, I have been furiously browsing the spring collections of every designer and store possible.
Obviously because of my financial woes, my budget for spring clothes is tight this year. As I'm sure it is for everyone, considering the dismal economy.
So no designer clothes for me this spring, unfortunately.
I have already kept my eye on a few interesting items, however, so I will be prepared in case Rian gets a job this month. Once he starts paying the rent, the bills, and the groceries, I will have some money to buy clothes (which I have not done in over two months, oh my god).
First, every spring I buy a "spring dress." My lame name for it should not overshadow its importance. It is essential for those beautiful sunny days when the temperature is perfect: crystal blue skies with a slight breeze.
Hopefully, one of these dresses will be mine in a few weeks. A crisp white cardigan would perfect the outfit later that evening, when the air gets crisp.
Speaking of cardigans, I think this one in gray would be perfect with a black tank top and jeans.
Also, and I'm not sure why, but every spring I also buy a new LBD. The habit started five years ago when I had to purchase one as a bridesmaid. I fell in love with this little black dress from Forever 21 because its sexy and super cheap.
And I'm not sure yet, but it might go perfectly with these satin rosette heels I discovered at White House/Black Market the other day.
Obviously my spring shopping isn't over yet. These are only a few items I'm considering.
If Rian doesn't get a job soon, I will surely lose my mind. I have never gone an entire season without buying new clothes. Giving up designer this spring is one thing, but to give up shopping in general...I'd rather go without eating for two months.
I wish I knew how to sew.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
I love love stories.
Some of my happinest moments are from middle school when I used to read cheesy romance novels (and, um, sometimes skip right to the good parts, hehe).
I know they're unrealistic. They never show what happens during the "happily ever after." They never show the marriage and the fighting over stupid stuff and the baby screaming all night and the lack of sleep.
But, you know what? Who cares. No one wants to read that crap. That's reality. Love stories are supposed to be fairy tales. The rugged womanzing cowboy who falls in love with the rich man's innocent daughter. The vampire who falls in love with the beautiful dessert, er, human girl. Sigh.
And it makes me sad because I want to live the fairytale. I love Rian but everything is so...stable. I want my heart to skip a beat when I see him ALL the time. I want the chase to last forever.
I want to always live that moment, that one moment, just before they live happily ever after. Before everything is perfect. When the passion is still raw.
Is that too much to ask? Oh wait, it's only fiction...
Monday, February 23, 2009
Well, after a mentally exhausting weekend, I am slowly picking up the pieces of my life.
And it's Monday. That's bad enough, so I'm not going to dwell on this negativity.
Thanks to my friend Nadine (who knows me SO well) I am addicted to this site she suggested.
It is a play place for fashion addicts and I cannot believe I never heard of Polyvore until this weekend. You put together outfits. Browse a variety of fashions. There are even these cute little contests where they give you a scenario (i.e. "Kelly is on her way to a job interview with a television studio in L.A., what should she wear?"). Fun, fun, fun!
Fashion is an art and this site lets you exercise your skills. Plus, it erases any boredom that might be lingering along the horizon.
If you join the site, look me up under members and contact me. I'm Jenniferb02.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
For some reason when I turned on the computer this morning, I thought I would be a little ray of sunshine to beam into my blog. But, no, I am still depressed.
I am financially screwed. I have the money to pay off my credit card debt but I don't have money for rent.
I have to work downtown today. And when I go home for dinner, my dad is really going to let me have it. He said that with all my financial problems I'm going through right now, I have just proved to him that I am a "complete loser." It really sucks.
But I will get through this.
I will endure my parents' wrath tonight. I will not let my unemployed boyfriend get the best of me. I will find a way of paying my rent. (Rian is going to sell a couple of his beloved guitars if need be, but I'm trying to find other options...).
In fact, if I can get through all the hatred and screaming and put downs my dad throws at me tonight, I will be fine. I can make it through anything.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Rian and I attended my friend's wedding this evening. It was lovely. It was dark and inimate. It was in a small art studio downtown with burning candles and shadows. My friend (who I have known since kindergarten) was gorgeous. Jessica wore a simple white gown and light pink scarf. She was exquisite.
I had a few glasses of wine from the open bar. A piece of cake. I caught the bouquet. (I was very popular that evening). And as Rian and I slow danced that night I felt butterflies in my stomach. He was close to me and I was in love.
But things didn't end well.
On my way home, my dad called. Apparently I owe my credit card company $1,300 by March 5 . I owe rent in one week. I don't have money for both. Reality crashed on me fast. I listened to the transactions on the phone. (I was stunned, for the past month, I have spent nothing on cltohes!). But every transaction rang true. Groceries and gas have killed me. As I hung up the phone, it hit me hard. I was not going to be able to pay my credit card debt and my rent this month. I'm fucked.
Why? Well, I'm living with Rian. He graduated Dec. 10 and has still not found a job. So, for the past couples months, I have been paying everything. Rent, gas, groceries, eating out. For two people. When I brought this up to him tonight, he got mad. Very mad.
I'm not going to go into details. I don't need people calling the police on him. He's sorry for what he did.
But it hit me that a future with him is what I'm feeling right now. He has hurt me repeatedly for different reasons in the past two years and that will never go away. And he feels no remorse for any of it. He told me so.
So what am I doing with a man who isn't treating me like a princess? What am I doing with a man who hurts me?
I don't know. I just caught the bouquet.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
I have a dirty little secret.
I like Lady Gaga.
I know, it's weird. I haven't listened to pop music in forever. Like, since I was 14 and a little unknown cow tipper named Britney took the scene. (And then quickly burned it).
It started a few months ago. Rian kept singing "Just Dance" over and over again. He secretly likes the song. At first, I just shrugged off Lady Gaga. I figured she was a Christina Aguilera look alike with the soul of Paris Hilton.
But then, out of nowhere, I started to like her single. I found my fingers turning the volume up when the song came on. When her new single "Poker Face" came on the radio, I didn't change the station.
And then I did some research and found out Lady Gaga was more than just your average pop singing bimbo. She *gasp* got accepted to NYU for music at 17. By 20, she was already composing pop songs for a major record label. Yes, she writes her own music.
She names Morrissey as one of her major influences.
And she's not gorgeous. She's strange looking (in a good way). And it's hard not to like a girl who sings "I want to ride your disco stick" and then humps a plastic Shamu in a kiddie pool in one of her music videos.
She's a glamorous eccentric. And I love that.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Okay, I shouldn't complain. I spent four hours in the emergency room with my darling boyfriend, who was having one of his asthma attacks. I've been through this with him before. We go to the hospital, he gets medicine from the doctor, I sit in panic in the waiting room imagining the worst, he comes out, we go home.
But today I was wearing my gorgeous beige and gold Audrey coat, my rose Etro blouse, my mini beige Express skirt, and gold-buckled vintage shoes. I really hate to brag, but I was such a doll.
And while I sat in the waiting room, I pretended not to notice everyone staring at me. Six women complimented my coat and I just smiled and continued (fake) texting. A frat boy with a bloody arm tried to sit next to me but backed away, scared, when I shot him my glare of death. (Um, there were 20 open seats around me. And blood on Etro? Hell no). An older gentleman (30?) tried flirting with me. Fake text, fake text, fake text.
And I couldn't even enjoy the attention because I was sitting frozen in my seat, sick with worry for my Rian. Who, by the way, is fine.
Le sigh. I'm so vain.
I hope Rian gets this asthma thing figured out soon, otherwise I'm going to go bald from all this worry.
And that is SO not fab.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I've been through several fazes: Golden Girls, Designing Women, Andy Griffith Show, Happy Days, Bewitched, etc.
The latest is Three's Company. I've flown through the first two seasons and just starting the third. And that's only in two weeks.
I've even started to wear my hair like Chrissy by complete accident. I didn't notice it until my dad pointed it out.
Anyway, Joyce Dewitt is in town for a month doing a musical theater production. The theater is across the street from my apartment building and I am dying to run into her. I'm not sure what to do though. Find out where she's staying? Casually stake out all the fancy restaurants nearby? Stand at the backstage theater door for hours, waiting for her to leave? I don't want to be a stalker.
Oddly enough, I always seem to run into the right people while I'm going through each sitcom phase.
When I was going through my Andy Griffith phase in 2003, I ran into Bryce Dallas Howard (Ron's daughter) in Los Angeles and got her autograph. When I was going through my Happy Days phase in 2006, I ran into Marion Ross at a seafood restaurant in Kansas.
So the chances are looking good I will run into Joyce. After all, there's a Whole Foods standing in the way between my apartment building and her theater. And isn't that where those Hollywood people shop for food? Hmmmm...? Hehe.
Now I just need to stay away from the mini pony tails and curling iron...
Sunday, February 15, 2009
I'm really glad Valentine's Day is over. It's just an excuse for girls to get upset, whether you have a boyfriend or not. And I've never been really the kind of girl to get excited about it. I wish I could be like most girls and get really creative. Throw a party. Buy little gifts for everyone.
And the past four Valentine's Days for me haven't exactly been movie quality.
2006: My ex boyfriend created this lovely picnic for us in a garden near school. He made all the food, even cupcakes. And then it broke my heart to give him the silly Michael Buble love songs CD I had picked up in a rush from Hallmark ten minutes earlier. It ruined everything.
2007: Rian took me to Waffle House, where I was given a free plastic rose and waffle, while mournful country music played on the jukebox.
2008: Rian and I drove around everywhere, looking for a place to eat dinner. At every single place the wait was more than two hours. We eventually settle at this dismal, kind of scary Greek restaurant that only served platefuls of meat. Seriously, no veggies at all, not even salad.
2009: Rian and I ate turkey sandwiches on the living room couch while watching Slacker.
See? That's what its evolved to for me. And I had no makeup on.
Next year I'm boycotting.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
(Or so I would imagine).
The woman sitting next to us at the pizza place gasped when I made this declaration to him. But she doesn't know the story, so I mentally replaced her shock with sympathy.
Because, truthfully, it's just excruciatingly painful to sit through an hour long meal while someone tells you how much you suck.
You're a journalist (I'm lucky to have a job).
You're poor (I'm a journalist).
You're living in a tiny little apartment (I'm 25).
You hang out with losers (they have college degrees and jobs).
Your boyfriend is a musician (I know).
And the list goes on.
And for the rest of the evening, I just sat there, sadly wondering what went wrong in my dad's life. He condemns me for having friends because "there's no such thing as friends." He calls me a loser because I have independence. Because I dared to move out of the house before I was married.
It's so exhausting. And every single week I see him, I endure these rants. I take every punch. And the circles under my eyes get darker.
And this week, I couldn't eat Chipotle for dinner or the cupcakes I made, which obviously means there's something seriously wrong with me.
I'm not feeling so fabulous.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Regardless, here I am.
Hilariously (or not) I have spent the past two weeks creating this blog. I spent hours and hours flipping through blogging templates and staring into space, thinking up creative and clever titles. At one point, I was on the computer until 2 a.m., thoroughly confused by my choices, and got a migraine from all the frustration. So clearly this has been a lot of work. Eventually, I decided I was too cool for any pre-made template and thus, began where I started with a blank canvas.
It's all very complicated.
And now my eyes are tired and my arms hurt. So clearly I should save my ramblings for a time when my brain is fresh.