Am I being a brat today. Not directly TO anyone, but my internal monologue all day has been full of shit and bitching. I had a lot of plans today, and just feel like I'm just going to be too much of a cunt to talk to anyone. So I'm just home...alone...being mad at someone who doesn't deserve it, for being nice but having a life of their own as well, just because its the only thing I can point a finger at.
I'm even more aggravated than usual at the fact that blogger.com and Apple products don't seem to be naturally compatible.
EW. Fuck me. I suck. Can I blame my crankiness on anxiety, heartbreak, week two of no smoking, an over due shark week? please?
At least I'm staying in my apartment with my mouth shut until this insincere feeling passes.
I've been spending the past two hours skimming this girls blog. She writes like an intelligent fashion collage student, takes cute photos of her daily outfits that are most often, D.I.Y. hand-me-downs from her mom...and that is because shes fucking 12!
I want the be friends with her. I want to dress her up and take photos. I want to hear what she has to say about our country. Im proud that there are kids like her around, and I'm sure her mother probably feels the same. I wish I could see what she does with herself, when she is my age..I'm I a huge creep, now?
here is a piece of an entry that she recently wrote regarding the critique she receives from the little outfits she puts together, posts online, and wears to school:
"While I don't deserve the publications I've been lucky enough to receive, younger bloggers both individually and as a group certainly do! Not only for the amazing outfits, photography, and writing that comes from many of these blogs, but the confidence it takes to wear something unusual to school and post your outfits on the internet for the world to see and critique. People are bound to be snide and rude, but the will to go through that just because you want to express yourself really is a passion for style. What I think is often not recognized is that being in your twenties and older does not necessarily make a person especially stylish, nor does being a teenager and younger make someone automatically have bad taste.
Also, younger bloggers are on a tighter budget. We don't have closets filled with designer items, and it's so much easier to make Chanel look good than it is to make a stained dress from the Salvation Army look good. Isn't that a little more interesting than an outfit taken right from the runway?"
Speaking of blogs and being a creep: I was playing Wii Fit earlier today, and while looking for a video on some step move that they as you to do in the advanced step dance course (I know, I know...advanced step...i've really laid down my true skills and you're slightly in awe)
and stumbled across a video that looked a lot like my living room earlier today, with a girl that looks a lot like Erin, a girl i used to love long ago.
Anyways, the cute girl in this video looked so much like Erin (black hair, above), that i was convinced it was her and her boyfriend...until i found the girls blog that was linked off of the video. Shes actually European. And she makes me wish i understood French well enough to read and respond to her journal. Because if i did, i would know how to make a delicious soup that i would have learned though polaroids!
The video made me laugh....
I would like this bra from Myla Prunella.
I am aware that it can never be worn anywhere because I feel like when chicks wear fringed bras with shirts, it looks fucking weird. Like they suddenly have several tits.
I'm not currently at a point in my life where anyone would even see it on me (except for my dog)...but i would like to wear it around my room while listening to Astrud Gilberto, and falling into layers of down comforters covered with thin fresh white linens.
I may really like this bra, but I think the bigger picture may be that I need a vacation. Or just a beach. I missed out on summer this year, due to my personal life. Making it by far, the longest amount of time in my life that has passed, without me stepping foot on a beach.
I'd take a crappy beach in Jersey, if the weather would permit it. I just miss it.
- the grit of sand that seeps between my toes
- the sun that seems to shine brighter even when there is overcast
- licking my arm and getting a sodium fix
- listening to old jazz music and drawing things in the sand with my index finger (these 'drawings' usually consists of hearts and swazis, because there is a lack of creativity for me, when it comes to drawing anything with one finger.)
- taking a shower and realizing that the fresh warm water is cooling the sunburn I didn't realize I had.
- the crisp feeling of my hair, when the sea water has dried it out
- finding the perfect spot to lay out a towel, laying my head on the floor and see everything from the lowest possible perspective.
- Coming home and finding sand in everything for weeks.
- the option of endless water to swim out to if I have an eventual death wish for it.