Friday, May 29, 2009

It is better to have loved and lost...

So I've been in a long distance relationship with this couch for quite awhile now. The flirtation began when I got my Cb2 catalog in the mail last year which then lead me to the website. I guess I will have to admit that this started as an online relationship, of which I am not ashamed, anyone who is anyone uses modern technology to date. I really fell hard for the look of the piazza sofa. Really inviting, a handsome photo and an intriguing profile. Hmmm. Wait, I already have a couch. Moving on.

At the time the only Cb2 on the west coast was in San Francisco so it was safe to say that we'd just have to see how this long distance thing would work. I was sure it was doomed.

However, back in October, I had a freelance job that took me to San Francisco and the most exciting part of visiting there for the first time was the opportunity to see the Cb2 and the beautiful piazza sofa.

Yes, I'm aware there is other stuff but I am really focused people.

I found my way there the first day. Leigh Anne, one of my top shoppingmates, was with me. (She is an uberpractical girl who somehow manages to maintain a savings acount AND be really fashionable. It is admirable). We took a turn around the coveted Cb2 and all its super hip cuteness when there it was: The piazza sofa with its irresistable "come hither" cushiness. After all this time of online coquetry we were finally face to face.

Let me tell you, it did not disappoint. I am not kidding when I say this is the most comfortable couch I have had the pleasure to sit on. It is the kind of couch that you can fantasize doing everything with. I know it is against the "rules" but I could see our whole life together.

I had no intention of cheating on my couch but these things happen. I am really glad I wasn't alone or I would have bought it on the spot and had it shipped home creating an Agamemnon, Cassandra, Clytaemnestra type scene that would have been ugly. Not to mention a $1300 impulse buy would have been a record breaker. It took all my strength but I finally decided I was going to have to let it go.

We saw each other every day until I sadly took my leave. When I got home I couldn't stop thinking about the piazza. It was a wistful, bittersweet, Bridges of Madison County thing.

So imagine my surprise when I learned the piazza was coming to LA! I haven't seen it yet. I am so nervous that it will just be too painful. There is still so much that keeps us apart (like $1300.00 to be specific). I'm going to go eventually. It will be good for me. Maybe I'll find out it isn't everything I remember. Maybe. There is a bamboo bathmat that I am determined to purchase. It is like $20.00.

I know I'm settling you don't have to tell me.

Follow the link with caution, lest you get your heart broken.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Ballgowns any day of the week. Make it so.

I was looking at this fabulous website, Rock 'n Roll Bride, that Heath passed along to me. The pictures are fantastic and have inspired me add to my lofty list: learn how to take pictures that have great contrast and amazing colors.

I love themes. Weddings that have a theme are so fantastic. My wedding was gorgeous and lovely and fantastic and really did reflect us but I don't think I had a strong enough theme. Especially my hair (what was I thinking and why didn't I splurge on some fabulous hair pieces?)

Well since that ship has sailed for me I was thinking, instead of looking with envy at these pictures why don't I think of another way to use that energy.

So here's my thinking, why can't every day have a theme? I don't believe in having the same look all the time and I like to change it up but why not up the ante a little and really go for it? Why wait for special occasions?

I remember how liberating it felt when I decided I could eat off of my fancy dessert plates any time I felt like it. (What was I saving them for?)

Why am I waiting for special events to wear some of my cutest things? No mas! I'm going to visit one of my style icons, Jessie Rae Baker, this afternoon which will provide further inspiration and solidify my new focus. I can't wait to see what she is wearing.

This actually ties into a saving problem I have that is closely tied to the hoarding thing but I'll explore that with you later.

No time now.
I have to come up with a cute outfit for today.

Monday, May 25, 2009

totally doable

To Do:

  • Wear a nose ring without getting my nose pierced
  • Wear really fancy hats to not so fancy places
  • Find that really flattering racerback tank that was on a customer at the restaurant
  • Go on more field trips with the dogs
  • Take more pictures
  • Go to the star registry and name a star after someone to see if it really is a great gift
  • Paint my walls an interesting color
  • Paint my nails an interesting color
  • Test the Pedipaws thingamajig to see if it could possibly work
  • Wear more dresses
  • Reorganize my craft and makeup corner
  • Go visit the couch I'm stalking
  • Read one of the 5 books I recently bought instead of just dusting them
  • Figure out what I'm going to wear for date with Newshead

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Wait, this place looks familiar...

So I've been sick, annoyed, overworked, not getting paid (literally my paychecks are bouncing), unable to shop, unable to sleep, and not working out. So I have been doing what I always do to make myself feel better/worse:

Eating crap.

And a lot of it.

Well hello rock bottom, fancy meeting you again after such a short time.

Rock bottom is an interesting place to visit over and over again. I've been to quite a few of the nine circles of RB.

Level three (from whence I am writing) is deceptive because it is somewhat comfortable. You can escape to fattening comfort food, tv, loose fitting clothes and a misguided justification that you deserve to wallow in this circle of inertia and what's the useness of it all. This is a place where an extra 7lbs is free upon entry and you can leave the heavy burden of ambition and aspiration at the door. It seems nice...for awhile.
And then it turns on you in a Hotel California way and you realize you have to check out or get your shit together and just leave.

I am good and sick of myself so it's bootstrap time (again). No more of this! Life is more fun when you are striving for unattainable thinness and reaching for those new summer sandals, endeavoring to be the girl who wears summer frocks, finding joy in the little things like trying to make the necklace you can't afford to buy and trying to figure out what your signature look of the season is going to be.

It takes a lot of oomph and mental determination to ascend from the inferno of rock bottom. However, barring physical illness or injury, it really is about FORCING the mental shift instead of waiting for it. They don't deliver "Ah Ha" moments to the nine circles, they deliver pizza.

Tomorrow is another day. I'm starting over. New focus on health and happiness.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...

Saturday, May 23, 2009


The thing about being sick in this day and age (well really in the last couple of months) is that you can't get away from wondering, at least for a moment, if you might have the swine flu. It is an inevitable stream of consciousness.

I'm lying in bed absolutely sure it is just a sore throat and some kind of cold but what if it isn't? What if I actually am one of the few people that has it. I can't help but entertain the feeling that I would certainly be somewhat special and unique. That's crazy! Why would I want that? Actually according to Newshead I do want the swine flu because the strain right now isn't as bad as the one that will come in the fall. If that is the case that is certainly less dramatic and who wants that?

Naturally being sick leads to my getting a little depressed. Where did I get it? Why me? Why, oh why, wasn't I taking better care of myself. Why on earth didn't I get one of those fashionable swine flu masks? I guess I'll go eat some carbs. It seems fitting. The only thing that will make me feel better. Never mind all my years of research that tells me exactly the opposite. I want bread.

Well now I feel worse and I am shocked. I should go buy more of those mushrooms that I really believe are helping my skin and my overall health. I did get sick when I ran out of them. Well I don't want to waste those things when I'm feeling sick. They are expensive. I'll take them when I get better. So for now I'll just have some mac 'n cheese.

Still feeling crappy. I'm going to put on some aqua eyeshadow and deny my illness! Mind over matter.
Hmmm. Now I look a little like a corpse. Not good. Not at all what I was going for.

This sucks.
I wonder if a cupcake will help? Now, just hear me out. How much worse can I feel and if I have already sabotoged myself why not just eat one or two or five. I'm on this road why not just continue?

Well I feel worse believe it or not. I think I'm just going to curl up like a Little Debbie swiss cake roll and go to sleep for a really really long time.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

My own tiny piece of Hell

So it is 11:56PM and there are plumbers in my house...still. They have been here since 9AM. This has been going on for four days. They are supposed to be done by 6PM but for the last two days, not so much. I work late so I typically get up late, I wander around drinking coffee doing the rounds on the facebook/twitter/blog/shopbob etc. before I workout and get ready for work.

I like to spend my day in my bedroom working on the computer while still in my pajamas because I CAN not because I have to.
It's great.

It changes everything when there are four strangers on the other side of the door pounding through the walls. It changes everything when you don't have any water. I have found that getting up at an ungodly hour of the morning to take my "last chance" shower and being forced to stay in the bedroom pretending that I'm totally awake and not still in my pajamas is...well the opposite of great.

You may not think so but it really is a bother to have to put on an outfit to go out to the kitchen to get a banana only to change back into my pajamas when I get back into the bedroom. It really takes the shine off a Target trip when it feels like I just need to go somewhere to pee and hang out for awhile. The biggest joy of shopping is intent. Intending to find a public bathroom isn't as fun as it sounds.

Bottom line, this whole re-piping the apartment thing has reenforced how NOT suited I am for prison...
or camping.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Hansel and Gretel

People think it is weird that I don't want to have kids. Do you know what I think is weird? That people assume because I don't want babies that I hate them.

I've never had that "thing." That 'I want a baby' clock thing. The thought of having a baby makes me a little ill to be honest. And never ever being able to get away from being a mother (or even setting it a side for a minute) makes me want to jump off a cliff. Not to mention the getting fat part. I already have problems.

When I was younger every guy I dated loved to tell me "you'll change your mind." Let me tell you, being ignored and dismissed is a HUGE turn on.

I saw a video of a pygmy slow loris on the internet and I researched for hours the possibility of getting one of my own (sadly, not possible).

Never had that reaction with a baby. EVER.

So I'm pretty sure I don't want one.

People also love to say "you think that now but that all changes once you have them." Yeah, like I'm going to test that theory.

It really really bothers people when you say you don't want kids. I don't really get it. Why do they care?

People even go so far as to say "but you'd be so good at it." Now, I'm really not sure where they are getting that but they say it with such certainty it is as if they know me better than I know myself. Talk about weird. I would assume that not wanting them would be the basic indicator for NOT "being good at it" but what do I know.

I can't imagine having another little person to buy things for. I don't just like shopping for myself, I like shopping for anyone. It would really be a problem if I had a kid that grew out of everything in a minute and a half and I had an excuse to keep buying new, cute stuff. The whole thing would be disastrous. I have enough trouble controlling my urge to spend on the pugs (they currently have matching green, sequin bow ties that I couldn't resist). And let's face it. I have been on spending lockdown for a mere month and I'm full of anger and resentment, imagine if it was a lifetime of that. Grrrr. I'm not really interested in giving up all my time and energy and money. I have enough to worry about. Thanks but no thanks. It really just isn't my look.

All that being said,
I don't HATE babies outright. Honestly, I'm just not that impressed by them. I'm actually very good with babies and babies like me. I just don't automatically love them or get all gooey over them and I DON'T want one of my own. And for the record, I adore my nephew but not blindly. Seriously, he is is really clean, handsome, well dressed and well behaved. If he wasn't I'd still pretend to like him but it wouldn't be the same. I find it most fascinating that in order for people to reconcile my lack of baby goosh in their mind, they have to think I hate babies or I'm just a hateful person. I mean, why else would I NOT want them.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Spendthrift: A word that doesn't mean what it sounds like it does

So my spending lockdown has resulted in me not leaving my house in order to avoid accidental spending. If I am exposed to society I will buy something. Outside world=Krista buying stuff. Not theory but indisputable fact. It appears to be unavoidable. However, staying home isn't foolproof either. I have found that being able to get anything I want online usually results in spending even more. When everything is virtual I get lulled into thinking the price is an intangible virtual non-reality. Until the "non-reality" becomes my actual credit card bill.

Even if I'm not online, I'm thinking about things. Things I need, things I want, things I want to need.

I know right now I FEEL like I haven't spent a penny but I know that isn't exactly so. It is kind of like the time I tried to do a fast/cleanse. On weight watchers food=points and I am allowed 18-23 points per day. On the day that I was "fasting" (and I really did feel like I had barely eaten) I ended up eating 20 points. That's right, for those of you counting at home, my "fast" was a normal day's worth of food.

So it is with my spending "lockdown." I feel like I'm not spending because I'm not buying anything I like. Just because I hate doing laundry, doesn't mean there isn't $10.00 worth of quarters being spent on it every week.

It is sad that I have to quarentine myself and disable the internet in order to "save" money. PS and by the way, window shopping isn't shopping. It is a form of torture. Right up there with waterboarding. Yes, waterboarding is torture and anyone who thinks it isn't is "fasting" on 4000 calories a day. Lying to one's self doesn't make it the truth.

They say dieting is really supposed to be a "lifestyle change" otherwise you just end up gaining back the weight plus some. I'm sure this applies to my spending habits as well. However, I just can't see this as anything but temporary. A "lifestyle" where I can't get new stuff seems laughable. I know myself and as much as I want to change my financial ways, we all know there is a binge coming and I can't wait to tell you what I get.

How much is too much and how thin is too thin?

There is a lot going around about how fat Kate Moss is. I have to say I always wanted to be as thin as she was and now I want to be as thin as she is fat.

People use the phrase "too thin" (negative connotation inferred) and while I believe there is such a thing out there walking around, I would still really like to wake up one morning and think

"Ugh. I'm too thin."

People always say "oh my! You don't want that!" But I DO. I really really do. I'm not worried about being too thin. Please. I know how to gain 4lbs in an afternoon. So what if I look tired and old and horrifyingly gaunt. I am confident that I can find my way back to needing to lose 10lbs. by the next morning.

Getting there is hard. Going back is a snap.

As if I could ever be stuck there in too thinville for more than a fleeting moment. That moment is the holy grail. I'm sure it will remain elusive forever so don't anyone start worrying. I'm fairly certain that if I was just bones and skin, I'd still be considered "curvy."

If I ever do get too thin I know just how I'll bounce back: Dominos bread bowl something or other. I've never seen it myself but I was having an online chat with a friend while she was ordering a pizza and they apparently have macaroni and cheese in a bread bowl! She was grossed out by the carb within a carb concept. If you ask me, it's genius. I do have an unusually high threshold for carb on carb. However, I would never really put it into practice. Mac & cheese bread bowl is going to be my new favorite thing I've never had. Carb nirvana.

Cut to:
Me standing in line behind a woman who was wearing jeans AND a jean jacket that were kind of the same color blue but not really. Unfortunately, I do not have the same threshold for denim on denim and the whole experience made me want to pull her messy** hair.

Once again, if you are making strong personal choices you can do anything you want. If your fantasy is an all denim day please proceed to the nearest denim jumpsuit and send me a picture of your inevitable success.

However, bank lady, you weren't creating a "denim experience" or saying to the world "I love denim!" If asked, I would bet an entire dollar that you would say "Oh, I wasn't even thinking about it." Which is my point.

Insert audible gasp here. "so much denim. Why so much?"
AND she was tiny. Extra points off!

**NOT messy good. Messy bad.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

So what.

I love Pink. The color and the singer.

I'm really enjoying her philosophy and attitude in her song "So What."

I just found out today that my water is going to be turned off for 8 days from the hours of "too early" am until "I'm already supposed to be at work" pm. This is quite literally ruining my sanity. I'm finding solace in singing this song to my shower. Over and over and over.

So what I'm still a rock star
I got my rock moves
And I don't need you
And guess what
I'm havin more fun
And now that were done
I'm gonna show you tonight
I'm alright
I'm just fine
And you're a tool so
So what
I am a rock star
I got my rock moves
And I don't want you tonight

You weren't fair
You never were
You want it all but that's not fair
I gave you life
I gave my all
You weren't there, you let me fall

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

A million little pieces...of paper

Today I was trapped in my bedroom while the maintenance man fixed the outlet that recently had flames coming out of it. As I sat there, I realized that all I could think about was "what does he think of my apartment?" I had gotten up two hours early just to make sure that I could finish cleaning it for him. Lacking the actual two weeks it would take me to really get rid of all my chaos, I strategically shoved it where I was pretty sure he wasn't going to look. However, who knows if there is some weird electrical panel (that I am completely unaware of) hidden behind the one door where all my craziness will fall out.

When I was younger I was rather messy. Make that extraordinarily messy. I think this is because I have an innate propensity to become a hoarder. I always had a real problem getting rid of anything. Mostly because I felt sorry for it. I truly felt that all my possessions had feelings and they would be really hurt if I discarded them. Not just stuffed animals and cute things either- everything. It was a burden really.

Organizing all my shit was a nightmare. Not just because there was so much of it, but because I would get so distracted with each item that it would take me 12 hours just to organize my sticker collection. Additionally, as soon as I "cleaned" my room, I couldn't remember where anything was which was colossally annoying to me because I could picture its original position perfectly.

I loved all my stuff. I really did. I liked having it and going through it. It really made me happy and I didn't understand the need to put it all away neatly. It was there ready for me and it seemed reasonable to just leave it wherever I wanted. Besides I had better things to do. As if writing really important love letters to Ricky Schroeder could wait. Please.

As I got older I realized that people judge you by that kind of thing. They associate you with being dirty or lazy or even a little crazy. Since I didn't want to be someone who never had anyone over to my house or (heaven forbid) a boy stopped by unexpectedly, I made it a point to curb it. I'm aware that it isn't an impressive party trick to reach into your very own heaping landfill and pull out the one thing someone asked for.

Living with someone helps me hold the hoarder mirror up to myself. It is a cold hard reality check when someone helps you move and they ask why they just carried two garbage bags of TV Guides up three flights of stairs. Turns out "because I haven't read them yet" isn't a compelling answer.

To this day I still struggle to wrangle it. I employ filing cabinets with folders, desktop boxes, a desk that closes up. I have containers that contain chaos so that I may give the appearance of calm organization. But I know the truth. I'm an Oprah episode waiting to happen.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Oh no she didn't...

It is Mother's Day and I managed to actually call my mother before she was in bed. Procrastination is not your friend when you live in different time zones and your mom goes to bed by 9PM so she can get up at some obnoxious hour in the morning to go to the Junior High where she is everyone's favorite secretary. I really should start calling her before I go to bed as she is probably up making coffee.

Mom: Oh, Krista! I dyed the front of my hair purple. Well, I mean I didn't, the hair dresser did.
Me: Oh my god! I am so impressed with you. Wait, she did it on purpose, right?
Mom: Yes! And I just love it.
Me: Holy shit, you are blowing my mind and again, I'm so impressed!
Mom: Well, I've been thinking about it for a long time now, I wanted to dye that part in front that has a little grey in it, a color. I was thinking green. But then I thought purple! You know there is a girl at school and her mom dyes pieces of her hair pink and blue and she's so cute, so I told her, Whitney, you are my hero. I think I'm going to dye the front of my hair purple. And the girl at the salon is so cool, you know she has piercing and that kind of thing. When I told her what I wanted, she got so excited, she didn't even charge me! It is a little subtle because my hair is so dark. You know your dad didn't even notice, but I'm going to go back and make it a little more obvious. Oh, thank you so much for the Macy's gift card.

Ok, I did NOT see that coming. I guess if I really think about it I shouldn't be surprised at all. This is the same woman who allowed me to go to school dressed like a pilgrim. She also never hindered my desire to wear cardboard wings with glitter, tiaras any day of the week and outfits that weren't anywhere near the realm of "matching." My love of shopping comes directly from her and she'll wear a brightly colored eyeshadow with the best of 'em. So why is it that I cannot pick my jaw up off of the floor?

After some introspection I have come to the conclusion that I cannot believe my mother has trumped me! I really am very proud of her. She sounded happier than I have heard her in a long time (she didn't even say the word "worry" once). She is living the style therapist philosophy. I should be thrilled.

But I am so jealous!

I really have to step it up. I mean, I am boring by comparison and I truly don't know how I let that happen. I got lazy and soft. I feel like I'm middle of the road, beige...SAFE! Ugh. I am so mad at myself right now. I look around and I've got NOTHING that can compare to purple hair. NOTHING!

The gauntlet has been thrown down.

By my mother.

Well, game on, on.

To be honest, I'm not sure what bothers me more. The fact that my mother has awesome purple hair, or that her style hero is a 7th grader.