Hard times call for drastic measures.

I am broke. B-R-O-K-E, broke. If I didn't have $_k in credit card debt, this wouldn't be a problem. Okay, this is obvious, but what I mean is that I'd be able to forgo the credit card payments and have fun on command. Instead, what some people call "retail therapy" is what I call a "serious addiction." As a general rule in life (not intentionally, it just happens), I get bored with things really easily. So when I shop, I might find something totally and completely amazing and think I can't live without it, I purchase said object of love and wear it incessantly until it becomes a twice a week habit and. It goes to the back of the rack.

The season is changing, literally and figuratively, and I need spring dresses. Yes, need. The problem is that for a lot of designers: spring dress range = skimpy and/or excessively short. Yes, I know it is possible to find tasteful dresses that also fit the season but. Some of them are $200+, some of them come at the price of shopping alongside 12 to 16 year olds, and everything in between requires the time and patience to really shop. I currently have neither the time, nor patience, nor United States Dollars to successfully accomplish this mission. So. I have a new proposal.

Since the penchant for acquiring new dresses will never go away (ever), and I happen to be looking for a new hobby, I have decided just now that I will buy a sewing machine, some lovely textiles, notions and patterns and get to work. In the spirit of, "Give a man a fish...", I think this could be a great (eventually) money-saving opportunity. I will still ravage the sale rack at Anthropologie but. Hopefully, over time I will be wearing clothing that is at least 50% made by me. Let's be clear that I have no intention of trying to become a designer. Even though I may buy the Project Runway Limited Edition Brother sewing machine, I will not sign up for Season 7 auditions because. That's just not what I want to do in life. I just wanna save a little money and still look good.

Whether you want to pay someone else to do it or soak in some inspiration, check out the sites below to build your own dress piece by piece. It's a lot of fun (and a great waste of time) to design dresses on these sites, but if you happen to make one of your own, let me know!

Style Shake: Doesn't have a whole lot of fabric choices (all solids, no patterns), but they do have some pretty nice silk and linen options. The customization combinations are endless, and you can save your work to a portfolio for purchasing later, or even choose someone else's design to order in your custom size. Some Girls Wander turned me on to this site and sports a lovely shirt from Style Shake in the blog post linked above.

Studio 28 Couture Dress Builder: More fabric choices (some cutesy floral and filigree patterns), but it seems to be waaay more expensive and the dress shapes are much more basic. I think this one would only be worth it if one's figure were much more exaggerated than standard sizes. MUCH more. I'm talking wanting to cover up some DDs, a 28" waist and 50" hips. Which... I hope doesn't exist. This would make for one funny-looking lady.

Dress By Design: Takes some standard designs and lets you customize them. Also more expensive than Style Shake, but is the only one of these three that offers pockets... you may or may not know how much I love pockets on my dresses. A lot.

In the past two days, I have discovered that:

•  Contrary to how my (sometimes) empty heart overwhelms me, there are people out there who really care for me.  Thanks to all of you who have reached out.  You make a difference.  I will, however, make it a point to note that the reason I was sad is not about me.  It never was and never will be, and because of this a part of me feels like I don't deserve the sympathy.  Let's not juggle semantics, but instead know that this week of crying was not in vain.  I [have learned/am learning] a few things from this experience...

•  Things are complicated, and that's okay.  Nothing in this world has to be as cut-and-dry as I have tried to make it out to be.  The fact is that it isn't doing anyone any good for me to keep crying, alone in the dark to the tune of after-school television.  Or whatever.  I finally realized that I have no power over the situation, and therefore should not act as such.  I am powerless.  I am powerless.  I am powerless.  That feels really good.

•  In the future, I will not take things for granted.  Part of why I was so sad is because I assumed too many things.  Everything is in evolution and nothing is invincible.  Nothing.  Tell the people you love that you love them.  Right now.

•  People really like pancakes.  Enough said.

(Regarding things that make me sad, don't ask for any information.  You won't get it.)
  • Current Mood
    grateful grateful


Always trust your instincts.


And if they tell you to go jump off a cliff, you should do that too.

Chances are there was a reason for it.
  • Current Mood
    sad sad

I I I dddon- uhhh...

Yikes.  Is the only word I can say right now.  Yikes yikes yikes.

Talking to James on the phone earlier about going to visit his grandmother was perfectly fine.  More than anything I was so happy that he didn't seem to think twice about inviting me, since there have been previous conversations of being terrified of the idea of meeting families (I can't say I was any less terrified of him meeting mine).  Now that the hour for sleep nears and I'm realizing how fast tomorrow night will come, I am kind of freaking out.

Don't get me wrong, I want to meet them.  Believe it or not, I've wanted to meet them for a while now- I just never brought it up before because I knew that when he was ready for it, he'd say so.  It's something intimate, I think.  Introducing your significant other to your family is a really, really big deal, and thinking about it happening tomorrow makes me...

Oh god, oh god, oh god.  What if I fuck up THE most important introductions and first impressions of my LIFE?  What if they hate me or think I'm not good enough for their son/nephew/grandson (yes, I'm meeting THAT many).

Okay, this blog is over.  I think I may vomit.


The Return of...

So... I haven't posted anything in this blog for almost three years. It seems really strange to just pick it up again. This isn't a bicycle or your favorite book of all time or or or. Something you never forget how to do after you've learned how to do it. So many things have changed since I wrote here regularly, which was actually almost four years ago. I wonder how many of you are reading this on your friends page, like the old days when I lived in the dorms (omg). Others will find themselves here because I've temporarily redirected my website url. To be quite honest, I'm too lazy to build a website and unwilling to pay someone else to do it. Awesome.

Here we go.

Some say Howard the Duck is one of the worst movies of all time. I am not one of those people. I happen to think it's one of the best. At least, my childhood memories seem to indicate so. I haven't seen it in who knows how long, but I have reason to believe it's in the same category as The Neverending Story and Flight of the Navigator- films that are just as good as I remember them as a kid. I grew up watching this movie. When I think of it, the first thing that comes to mind is Holiday Inn. My family was and is not extraordinarily wealthy. We couldn't afford to take vacations, so once or twice a year the three of us got a room at a Holiday Inn across town. It was like going on vacation to me, because we were in some place that wasn't home, and I never really had any concept of what other people thought of as going on vacation. On these vacations to Holiday Inn, Howard the Duck played on a loop with a handful of other movies. It never changed, through the years we did this anyway, and you can bet I watched it every time it aired. At some point my family started making more money, and we were able to upgrade our Holiday Inn vacations to camping trips at Lake Travis. But this change in our lives leads to a completely different story...

And that's how I choose to remember it.

Here's where things get interesting. Tonight I remembered that Howard the Duck is coming out on DVD in March (finally!), so I went to Amazon.com to pre-order it. I search "Howard the Duck," and a bunch of other things come up along with the listing I'm looking for. Books and comics, originals and reprints. I turn to Wikipedia for a broader perspective, and whaddya know... Howard the Duck was originally a Marvel character. How could I have been a fan of the movie for so long and not have known that?

Howard the Duck

Well, there are several simple explanations for this, the first of which is that I was never into comics. Period. I didn't dislike them in any way, shape or form, I suppose I was just very neutral to the idea. I grew up reading The Babysitter's Club and Sweet Valley High, moving on to R.L. Stine and poetry by Jim Morrison. Oh, dear. I played He-Man and She-Ra with my best friend in my grandparents' living room. Ninja Turtles versus Barbies until I realized Rocksteady was waaay cooler than any blonde bimbo. After we moved and I had to be alone more often, I drew in sketchbooks and watched movies not related to superheroes.

I suppose my previous lack of interest in comics is the only reason I didn't know this. I'm a little embarassed to admit that upon further inspection, I'm quite intrigued by the prospect of Howard the Duck as a part of Marvel history. So, I bought original copies of the first two issues of his solo publication from 1976.

Shhh... don't tell my boyfriend.