I wonder if...

I wonder if improving my at home lounge wear will inspire me to answer the door. Probably not.
Not answering the door doesn't have so much to do with me being embarrassed by what I'm wearing (although I'll admit I should be) as much as it has to do with not wanting to have to tell someone no and have them not listen to me.

I hate hate hate it when someone is trying to sell me something or trying to con me out of money and won't take "no, thank you" for an answer. People simply will not listen to me. I've had this problem all my life. I think it's because I'm short and I look nice and therefore gullible. They think I'm an easy "get" and can't believe their ears when I say "no." I've tried toughening up my look a little. I changed my hair color and got some tough looking bangs but it isn't quite doing the trick.

The way I see it I have two choices:

1) act like a crazy bitch who seems to have little regard for her own safety much less theirs or
b) casually wear a gun holster and a gun when I answer the door

I think a gun holster with a gun would make a great accessory to my upgraded lounge wear. Newshead says I'm not allowed to have a gun.

So for now, when someone knocks, I drop to the floor and crawl slowly around my apartment until they go away.

The sole that sunk a thousand ships full of shoes

I may have said this before. It is hard to keep track and let's face it, I've admitted to having recurring/repeat thoughts.

I don't understand people who "don't like" to shop. I'm married to one and I still can't get over how weird it is. Newshead's idea of shopping is going in, getting exactly what you were looking for and walking out. Bizarre.

I bring things home for him because if I had to wait for him to go shopping for clothes, he would look like a homeless person after awhile. If you are having any doubts, this is a person who says "but I have a pair of brown shoes" and until they fall off his feet he doesn't see the need for another pair. First of all, just because they are brown doesn't mean they are the same. Secondly, I don't believe in a universal, uber shoe. Doesn't exist. Shoes have a great deal of personality and they have quite a bit to say. They can change a blah outfit into something special. The right shoes have the power to elevate your entire look. It is all about the details and shoes are a very important detail, please don't neglect them.

Not only does Newshead dislike shopping, he is actually suspicious of stores. Buying him things is like navigating a land mine, one wrong move and that's it. I finally got him to wear a new pair of brown shoes to work and an hour later he emailed me to say that the sole was coming off. Then he said we better return all the shoes because the store was obviously trying to sell us crap. One pair of faulty shoes on a clearance rack and the entire industry just crumbled. It is lunacy and I'm not quite sure how to combat such faulty logic. Talk about throwing out the baby with the bathwater. It is enough to drive a style therapist to madness.

There are a lot of people out there like Newshead.

I have got my work cut out for me.

Fluffy white horror between two delicious chocolate cookies

Newshead brought home oreos aka kryptonite. It's like he hates me. He actually ate the middle out of one and PUT IT BACK! Who does that? I shamed him but what is really scary is that if it were the last one, I probably would have eaten it. I'm that disgusting.

I actually think I'm allergic to sugar/corn syrup/crappy food. I've noticed a blinding headache come on everytime I slip up.

This could be good. Pavlov good.

In a land far far away but really very close and not far at all

I just had one of those moments where you catch a glimpse of yourself in an alternate universe or played the "what could have been" game.

I just watched that show, Hoarders, and I'm pretty sure somewhere in another dimension, behind the seventh veil or in dejavuville, I am on that show. People are watching me in horror and my family is giving sad and frustrated testimonials. Actually, probably only my mom would do it. Everyone else would decline to be on camera.

I must admit I feel a little itchy after watching the show. I'm pretty sure I can't watch it again because my COMPLETE understanding of the hoarders attachment to their things and their anthropomorphizing of their stuff made Newshead nervous. I could relate to the rationalization for keeping each item: "Oh that's a gift. That's a journal. That goes over here with the other 250 blank journals. Those are crosswords that I'm going to do."

Seriously, all the plans and good intentions for each item was eerily familiar. I was not the least bit surprised by their ability to recognize every little thing that was held before them, that in all that stuff (piles and piles of it) they never once said "I don't know what that is or where it came from." There is a story and a thought about everything, so of course it is hard to get rid of anything. I totally get it.

I usually am an advocate of the "who cares what people think" school of thought. This is one time where I think it helps. But I guess in fairness you have to not be crazy to know that it is kind of crazy.

I'm constantly looking around my apartment and picturing the person who has to go through my stuff if Newshead & I suddenly die. Why I would care, I don't know, but I do.
My goal is to keep the WTF moments to a minimum.

Right now I've organized all the unorganizable stuff into a "craft" section. I know they are a million little jars of madness but to the unknowing eye, I'm a crafter. That's nicer for my sister and/or brother to have to clean up. You are welcome.

Here's the thing. Hoarders wouldn't have to give up their stuff if it were better displayed. Stores have tons of shit and people love going there. Dare I say that once again it comes down to style?

And mental illness.
But also style.

The more things change, the more they just really don't change

I'm revisiting the idea that we create the patterns in our lives. I feel like I have gone through immense changes and yet, as I read excerpts from my seventh grade journal I am realizing that I am EXACTLY the same person. I have not evolved one bit. Nary an iota. I'm obsessing over my hair and my clothes, my weight and the fact that I heart some guy named Frank. I'm pretending that I hate everything (when I know, in fact, that I didn't). I mean it is ridiculous. Change the guys name to Newshead and I'm practically living my seventh grade life right now.

Earlier today I grabbed one of my many notebooks so I could write out some of my annoyance with myself at not being able to keep a jar of honey in the house for more than a week and my firm decision to go clean and lean starting tomorrow. In this notebook I found four days of "journaling" from 2002.

"Crabby, unmotivated, puffy, bloated, fat, fatigued, fucked up sleep, PMS. I feel I'm so close to breaking the barrier and then I go into a slump. I have to dig deep to find the magic feeling called confidence and strength. I really miss Ned. Glad I'm going home next week.
Things I can't have in the house:
Peanut Butter
Honey
Whole Wheat Crackers
Oreos
Ate almost a whole jar of honey today. What made me think I could have it? Duh.
Ok, I'm going to bed and I'm going to get up and try not to eat and hate myself some more. It will pass. This too shall pass..."

Seriously? And what's with the dramatics?

Well that is it. The jury is in. I am the common denominator. Time to take some responsibility. I am using this stuff as my identity. It is like a comfy blanket that I wrap myself in. When am I going to grow up and get over this stuff? Right now. That's when.

Actually, on second thought, why would I do that? If I actually achieved some level of self acceptance, what in the world would I talk about?

Just when I was feeling ordinary...

So apparently I am now a "V.I.B"

Don't know what that is? Well let me tell you, it is a "very important beauty insider." Sephora has bestowed this honor on me and I have to say, I am honored. It isn't everyday you get an email like that.

What does that mean, you ask? It means that I have spent so much money (that I don't have) at Sephora that I am invited to spend even more. There are even more enticing deals to bring me to makeup and skin care central with more reasons to spend money. Why yes, I DO get a holiday bonus (it sounds a little like a job, actually) and guess what, the more I spend, the more my bonus is. I freakin' love this place.

And let me tell you why.

Everyone likes a reward card that costs no money and brings you treats and special status for buying the things you love. They really know how to make a girl feel special. Tops in my book. I'm not a fan of any reward program that costs money on top of the money you already spend there.

The Sephora Spectacular houses under one roof, a veritable plethora of beauty products. It has so many different lines of makeup and skin care that you could really spend days and days and not see it all. I've spent an entire afternoon drawing on my hand with the urban decay eyeliners trying to decide which shade of purple to get.

As soon as I found out about my new status, I went right over. I was dying to see if things looked different as a V.I.B. I wasn't ready to spend my inaugural, "welcome to the special club of spendy spenders" discount but I did want to scope out the place.

Right now, Dior has the most amazing shade of red nail polish. It is like a cranberry crossed with candy apple. It is divine. I used the tester to paint two of my nails and it is beautiful. It is fascinating that they only have one shade of nail polish. Brilliant marketing. It makes one feel like that is the uber color for fall. There is only one and this is IT. It is also expensive which makes you feel like it is an indulgence. I'm still thinking about it. These people are geniuses!

Here's something else I've discovered during operation recon at the Sephora, they are doing something called "Express Services." Each one has a different focus but the jist is, that one of their experts will give you a mini lesson on a different aspect of makeup application. The one coming up is called "Candy eye." Phenomenal. The beauty expert who was dressed in all black with her official black, expert smock, was wearing blue, white and pink eyeshadow with a glittery eyeliner and it looked amazingly neat. I was super impressed.

Candy eye!

Newshead sees the world in conspiracies. I, on the other hand am full of admiration for marketing ploys. Let them conspire to take my money by offering me a gift and an elite status that no one knows about.

Joke's on them. I was gonna shop there anyway.

mystery lips

So I have had severely chapped lips for the past two months. I was convinced I got a little over zealous with the anti-aging cream and had burnt the shit out of them. When that wasn't it I threw out an old sticky lipgloss that I thought might have been the culprit. Still awful. I went through four tubes of lip balm medicated and otherwise and put every hydrating thing I could find on my lips. I did a sugar scrub, exfoliated with a wet wash cloth, moisturizing lip scrub, a lip peel...nothing!

I've not really had this problem in the past so I'm a bit perplexed. Every time I think it is better it flares up again. I'm obsessed with figuring out what I'm using that is making this happen. The only thing that has seemed to help is pure vitamin E oil which I only just discovered this week. I thought I had solved my problem but then tonight it got bad again. It actually looks like I had some kind of bad collagen lip procedure done.

I will admit that because my lips are swollen, the wrinkles I was worried about aren't really visable right now. So there's a silver lining. However, the downside is that I can't wear any color on my lips or I look like a dehydrated corpse. Like if I was going for zombie lips it would be impressive. Unfortunately, I don't need that look at the present moment so it is a waste.

I asked my friend the internet about the severity of the problem and overwhelmingly everyone is suggesting that I have an allergy. Probably to the very thing I am using to help cure me. Lip Balm. Goddamnit! I just bought a new one that smells like the most amazing vanilla frosting and another tinted one that smells like a tropical drink. Into the garbage. I am so sad about it. I am relieved however, to think that it is just lip balm. I can work around that. Newshead said "wouldn't it be awful if you were allergic to makeup?"

Oh the horror. I can't even speak.