skint??

The BF said I couldn't have a BlackBerry. The next day he said we couldn't eat out. Are we worse off than I thought?? Okay, okay - internet on the phone is unnecessary. But a chicken caesar salad?

luddite in the house

This is so not the time, but I really want a Blackberry.

The facts:

I have progressed (or, let's say, would like to progress) beyond blogging with a cat in my lap.
I am not hip (or app-needy) enough to explore iPhone territory.
I need something text-capable, so why not to the whole nine web yards?
I have no true burning need for such a toy and so all of the aforementioned facts are useless.

Sigh.

I am getting a new phone, though, along with a brand-spanking-new plan that I hopefully will not hate with such a passion as the one I do now.

blendable wine

blendable wine
Originally uploaded by damned_cat

In Ms. Vickie's birthday/happy November gift: Bare Escentuals Blendable Wine Shadow Collection. Base: Chardonnay. Highlight: Pinot Noir. Outer shadow: Merlot.

Experimented with Chardonnay and Pinot Noir - a nice everyday combo. Add Merlot for drama. Highly recommended: BE contour brush. I take mine EVERYWHERE.

Previously loved BE hues: Shantung and Soft Focus Explore.

This is not a good pic of the Wine Collection, btw. It is, however, a very good pic of my strange bathroom lighting.

V sent all sorts of good advice about my latest purchase(s). I ... disregarded the parts about returning stuff but wholeheartedly embraced the parts about keeping stuff!


Sigh.


Just so we're clear, I really needed these shoes. And I actually think I should be congratulated for buying them. I have accepted and embraced the advent of my thirties; I have accepted the need for comfort shoes. I'm on my feet all day, but while the dress code for teachers here in the islands is pretty lax, I don't want to go to slippers or sneakers.


Would link to an image of the actual shoe but I can't find it anymore. So it was either wildly popular and sold out completely or it was too ugly to remain on virtual shelves. The basic shape is like this, but the design is sort of a cross between cowboy boot and saddle shoe.


P.S. It was on major sale.


In other candied_news ... oh good, there is no other candied_news. Large quantities of money are being painfully saved and then rapidly spent in preparation for the wedding and so we're trying to be good. Trying is always the operative word, isn't it?

me LIKEY

Task: Find and purchase the last groomsman's shirt online.

Derailed by: these.

They'd certainly help me get free Veteran's Day shipping.

:P

making faces

lm
Originally uploaded by damned_cat

If I won a magical ticket to spend an hour with anyone in the world, living or dead, I'd resurrect Kevyn Aucoin and ask him to teach me a few tricks. Did that sound as sacrilegious as I think it did?

I've had my makeup professionally done a number of times by a number of different people, and I've only truly loved it twice. I always more or less like it, just because it is so fun to wear a different face, but as far as really loving the work, only twice. Once was for a photo shoot back in 2000 and once was last weekend, for P's wedding. The first time I ever had it done was for a project photo shoot, and I looked too different - hideously different. The makeup artist who did my face for the photo shoot I loved, moved away shortly after I met her. The one who did me for P's wedding is also my makeup artist for mine. (She was part of my wedding gift to P. Hehe.)

$95 is what I think my current favorite makeup artist said it would cost for a 1.5-hour lesson on makeup application. I'm considering this because I am the girl who can apply half the eyeshadow in the pan and still look bare-faced in photos. Case in point, the above photo. I went out with a beautiful gold Laura Mercier shadow on Halloween. I applied liberally and with (careful) enthusiasm. In the mirror, nice. In photos, nothing.

About the photo thing, I know self-portraiture is probably not very rock n' roll but it's just so git-danged fun, and I would like the photographs I take of my swiftly passing youth to include some documentation of my person. Since S. does not take pictures, period, I take pictures of us, which means taking pictures of myself sometimes. Except for Halloween, this isn't the reason I want my CFMA to teach me how to put on a face. I would like to be able to do it myself for parties, for photo shoots, for ops like the New Orleans one I am still crossing my fingers for, and for good old fashioned girly fun. I am not a model, and no one ever taught me anything; I get by with Leslie Blodgett tutorials and youtube videos, and it would be painfully obvious that I need real instruction, except nothing I applied myself even shows up on camera. So.

Just some thoughts. All the makeup I did not buy on today's excursion to the mall is haunting me.

although i miss her ...

Things I would go out and buy this second (or maybe, you know, when the mall opens) if Vickie were here, so it's kind of a good thing she isn't:

- A Tokidoki bag. Not a little purse, a big honkin' BAG. They're so freaking cute I don't care that they're five minutes away from passe.

- A good pair of jeans. I have a perverse desire to see what this 7 For All Mankind hoo-ha is all about, but even in my shopping fantasies I am a little more realistic than $200/pr denim. Peahen was strutting in Lucky Brand this past weekend; she says it's the only denim she wears these days. So, fantasy bag item 2: dark-wash Luckys. (Luckies?)

- Maia highlights. I want to do Something To My Hair and if I'm going to fork over a kidney to pay for it, it's not gonna be another $70 bang trim.

- A necklace to replace the one I love but have decided to stop wearing. I'd pick a slightly different one, of course, but what I really love is the toggle-style closure and the choker fit, and similar designs seem to be abundant at the store I hate but whose designs I love.

That was fun. Anyway, quick reality check: Peahen gave me a beautiful lariat-style heart necklace from Tiffany as a maid of honor gift. We also got awesome manicures and I've managed to keep mine intact so far. I wish I could be as extravagant with my own girls. But I have six to Peahen's one, so.

Shoe news: nothing cute on the horizon but I am going to buy a $40 pair of New Balance runners today if I can make it to Sam's Club in time (and if they still have my size.) I actually wore down a pair of running shoes. This calls for a soda!

Just kidding.

i crumble

Was tooling around What Claudia Wore and she mentioned Jenny Humphrey and I knew who she was talking about, ONOZ.

Dang that Mart!!

I swear I will never, ever pick up a GG book. I draw the line there.

That evil guy on GG is still nowhere near the cockroachiosity of Spencer Pratt, though. Just had to say that.

fiddle-dee-dee

Who knew the mall didn't open till 10 a.m.? Sure on most shopping days past I've been in bed till 10 a.m., so how I was ever to learn this is a mystery, but today, I woke up early (as I have every day of Fall Break), Post Office'd it, and then moseyed on to the mall. Which, excepting Old Navy, was closed.

While killing time in ON, I picked out a bunch of $5 tanks, two pairs of jeans, three baby outfits, and a dog costume (bat, because they only make honeybee in XXS, think Elle Woods' chihuahua Bruiser in "Legally Blonde") before I realized I was being ridiculous and bought only one t-shirt, a cheap Halloween special (although not as cheap as the pallets and pallets of bright orange "3 for $6!" tees in the front of the store). Oh, and the baby outfits? They'd go on the shelf next to the tennis racket and biography of Abigail Adams I own, the "we may need these things later" shelf.

i need

- a haircut. So, so badly.
- a new pair of running shoes. Semi badly.
- an ab video. This diet and cardio thing isn't cutting it.

Suggestions?

SBICCA

Fact 1:

I own a hell of a lot of awesome shoes. <-- Technically that's several opinions, but let's just say.

Fact 2:

NONE of these shoes are made for standing up for six hours and/or being worn for the duration of a nine-hour (average) workday. <-- Technically I cannot prove that the makers of my Chinese Laundry, Sugar, Victoria's Secret, Aeropostale, Steve Madden or brandless stilettoes, wedges, espadrilles, and mary janes did not intend for them to be worn for a teacher's workday, but I feel pretty safe saying PROBABLY FREAKING NOT.

Fact 3:

I desperately needed at least a couple of pairs of shoes that would fall into the category of "sensible."

What did I used to teach in? Running shoes. You can't go wrong, comfort-wise, with running shoes. But then, I also used to work in high-waisted jeans and would never tweeze my brows, thank goodness times change. I no longer teach in high-waisted jeans or t-shirts and shorts, so now I actually run in my running shoes and started using my Awesome shoes for teaching. El Wrongo.

Fact 4:

I needed to economize. Where does one go when one has a need for cute, sensible shoes - and limited funds? Sears. Because

Fact 5:

Sears carries SBICCA! My favorite, despite their marriage to basketweave and cork heels (both of which I am over, but some compromises must be made when one is economizing.)

I can now work in comfort - all three new pairs have a reasonable heel (NECESSARY when dealing with fifth graders wacked out on angry hormones and growth spurts) - one needs to TOWER over one's minions.

Okay, I don't tower. Even with the best heel, I still can't see over my tallest kids' heads.

I'm happy! But no pics. They're teacher shoes, after all. Sexy shoes get their own entry.

I don't own enough sensible shoes.

That is all.

I want to cut my hair SO BADLY.

quickcandiedupdates

I love my watch and am going to keep it. I don't care how ugly it's going to be half a year from now (and I do believe it's going to be ugly. I have a pink BG that went the way of Vickie's). So far it's been on one hike and three swims, and we simply cannot part ways. Today I caught myself talking to it.

I have a credit balance on my VS card. Naturally my initial reaction was to scream "WOO HOO!" and throw a pair of these or maybe these into my little pink cart. I did, actually. Both. But then I reminded myself that I have lots of shoes to play with already, and that I don't need more just now, and called the toll-free number they provide if you want the balance transferred back to your checking account. Responsibility must be a side effect of turning 30. :P

I returned my BBoS. It was sad not only because I loved the bag but because it was a summer treat and summer (as we teachers know it) is slowly but surely slipping away. Every reminder of that SUCKS. I called Mart from the UPS Store parking lot and he reminded me that I can just queue up the next one. Which I know. But it won't be the same.

I hear S. parking the mo ... I guess I should get off his computer.

a-shopping we will go

I know I said I bought myself a burrito to celebrate my 38-minute table hike, but I couldn't resist using the same excuse (and my $30 in Macy's Rewards) to justify this purchase. 1) It has a stopwatch, the key feature I was looking for in new wrist candy, which I'll need for hiking, running and swimming; 2) I avoided pink this time (my last Baby G and dress watches were pink, and while I loved them completely, they went with nothing but the bubble-gummiest of outfits. Despite its relative bulk, this one will go with work clothes and weekend clothes; 3) It's darn cute.

So, I might as well blog the rest of my shopping day here, even though there is no more candy to speak of.

Purchase orders ... I get so excited about a trip to Fisher (huge office supply geek), but by the time I'm done, it just amounts to three hours of my life I'd like a refund on. The warehouse is one big absurdity. It's uninviting, hot, and completely disorganized (and for this blogger to call something disorganized, it has to be the absolute pits). Walk over to a bin of dry erase markers and find three with totally different price tags. The same marker is tagged $0.99, $1.29, $1.46. So I have to go and dig for three that are marked $0.99. There are 15 billion shelves of file folders, not even in any kind of relative proximity to each other. And checkout is a special joy. PO (and by then, PO'd) customers have to pay at a specific checkout at the rear of the warehouse. There is no scanner - the employee must key in every item by hand. Which, I must say, is still an improvement considering they used to have to handwrite every item on triplicate carbon forms. (Imagine how long it takes to ring up a $300 purchase order with that system.) The downside to "technological upgrades" is that your computer may just decide to go to sleep when you're logging in the very last item, causing the checker to have to unbag everything and start all over. By the time I leave Fisher, I am sweaty, grumpy, and in no mood to do my second purchase order (although year after year I plan to hit both vendors on the same day. Fool that I am.)

I decided to drop my new stuff at the classroom so it wouldn't be sitting around in the backseat, a whole bunch of stuff that would in no way interest your typical car-burglar, but still, who knows how tempting bunches of bulging brown bags are? Stopped off at the brand spanking new McDonald's to redeem a Southern Style Chicken sammy coupon, found it had expired, and ordered an iced tea with lemon instead. The brand-new building is very pretty, very modern. The cashier had a European accent. Everything's different. Except for the level of service. True to pre-renovation form, my iced tea w/lemon did not contain a lemon wedge. Welcome home, Ms. D_C!

At least I got to come home to my pretty new watch (and the 300-page users manual that I've already cast aside in favor of letting S. set the time and other bothersome details). Yay!

"could you please spell 'gabbana'?"

That is my new favorite movie line. It's up there with "The big boy is gonna wash himself!" (What's Eating Gilbert Grape?) and "Great balls of fire! Don't bother me anymore, and don't call me sugar!" (Gone With the Wind).

Birthday Goodies :)

well if it ain't felony melanie

My favorite Reese Witherspoon haircut: "Sweet Home Alabama". I'm going to alter it, though, so it doesn't have so much high-maintenance layering in the back. Sides I can handle. Sides I can reach with a flat iron. The back - forget it.

I hope I can hold out till next Feb. because I really want my hair long for the wedding - and although Fox heartily encourages them, I don't want extensions.

curiouser and curiouser

I have to continue to blog about the website/concept that is Bag Borrow or Steal. I tried to keep my squeals to a minimum when talking to Mart, but I guess I did a pretty poor job because S pounced the minute I got off the phone.

"What's up?"

"Oh. Um. Matthew got me a Bag Borrow or Steal Membership for my birthday." [My best This is Great News! smile, with added sunshine for good measure.]

"Bag Borrow or Steal ... what's that?"

[Explain mind-boggling concept; toss in a few extreme examples.]

My fiance actually got up from his video game and sat down across me at the table to ask, "Okay, how much is this going to cost us, monthly?"

[Blink, blink.]

"Well, I won't be spending your money."

"I know, but -"

"Or wedding money."

"Because we have to -"

"Save money. Looky, I've got a $9 Juicy en route right now, and that is courtesy of my brother as part of my birthday package. It's not a crocodile Birkin. It's not even a Louis" [because there is currently a wait for every LV item on BBOS. I blame it on Sex & The City.] "... so relax."

"NINE DOLLARS A WEEK?!" [Commence with the head-shaking.] "I don't understand this ... thing. Must be a girl thing."

"As sitting motionless for hours upon end in front of one of a plethora of $65 video games that promotes gratuitous violence on a $400 console may just be a guy thing. But hey, I can dig that. So."

And that was the end of our conversation about BBOS. I don't have uncontrollable spending issues (in fact, I'm pretty damn good with money, as I carried the entire mortgage and all bills - and remained in cute shoes - for the first year and a half of our relationship because I didn't want to part with even a modicum of ownership) so I know it's not my spending that's of concern here. Purses simply strike fear into the hearts of men. Even the cheap ones can look expensive. And who wouldn't fear the structure BBOS runs on?

It is definitely not for the faint of wallet. Contrary to what was suggested by SATC's Louise from St. Louis BBOS is not for those who can't afford to buy the latest Louis Vuitton, Hermes, Gucci, Tod's, etc. BBOS is for those who have so much money that they can afford not only to purchase any bag that tickles their fancy, but to shell out way more on a weekly or monthly basis for the sheer kicks of novelty. Think about it - it costs $94/wk to rent a Chloe lambskin tote <-- totally gorgeous. Click! $94 is a huge chunk of change to spend for the pleasure of spending seven days with a (politically incorrect) bag, even one as beautiful as the Chloe.

So. I am enthralled that I have access for 365 days to member rental prices at this crazy, ultra-hedonistic, bizarre bazaar of beautiful bags. I have a fiscally responsible head on my shoulders, so I'm not worried about myself, but I am so curious: Who are these people who have checked every last Louis Vuitton purse out of the handbag library? Who are the women who will pay $27/wk to rent a pair of Dolce sunglasses, or $31 for a Fendi acrylic bracelet? These are obviously women with serious money (or serious issues). Maybe it's the new, wearable Vogue:

"When I first moved to New York and I was totally broke, sometimes I would buy Vogue instead of dinner. I just felt it fed me more." - Carrie

Well, this blogger (Carrie-centric as she is) would never sacrifice dinner for fashion, but it certainly won't hurt to pool what I'm saving by not drinking soda or eating fast food and putting my nickels and dimes in fantastically cute purses, one week at a time. I can ooh and aah over a thousand-Simolean Louis, but I love me a $9 Juicy and I can't wait to blog my first Borrow.

In the meantime, laugh at the Louis Vuitton for the discerning '90s rapper-slash-redneck. In the words of Jack Effin' Twist: Woo WEE!!!

mar(t)velous!

If, in order to access handbags of every ilk - ghetto fab to vintage couture - via a totally ingenious web company that allows one to borrow said fashion, one must admit that 30 years have gone by since one's entrance into this wonderful world, then so be it. I'm 30. Now show me the Dooney.

For my birthday (which is actually not until next month), my ultra-cool brother got me a 1-year membership here. It is a mind-blowing concept - these people must make SO much money - and while my inner Chinese sensibilities kick and scream at the thought of renting couture, my Carrie sensibilities have already assembled a wishlist twelve items long.

I may refuse to borrow books (I really hate not owning my reading material) but I have nothing against borrowing accessories. Looking at the price tag of a super high-end rental does hurt my corneas, but were I ever at a point in my life where I desired - nay, deserved - to carry a Birkin or one of its peers, I would surely make a point to own it. Bag Borrow or Steal is strictly for the joy that is carrying a different, lovely bag every month. Without the space issues.

Habberdaytumi!

my ikea bedroom

Sent by Vickie

verdetto: MOLTO SCARSO

It takes at least two people (or some complicated, ingenious rigging of clothesline and pins) to effectively ItalSteam a garment. The reason is because it only functions properly when held vertically. You don't need a board, which is supposed to be convenient, but the lack of a solid surface behind the garment is just an annoyance because it's hard to press the steamer against, well, nothing. So to effectively dewrinkle the shirt, you need to hang it vertically from a bar and have someone hold one side while you hold the other, pulling the fabric taut as possible. If there's just you, it takes three times as long (and no small degree of dexterity, flexibility, and patience) to ItalSteam it than it does to iron it the regular way. The only nice feature about ItalSteam is that if you have to re-use a pair of jeans or a shirt, you can freshen it up nicely in a jiff. But if it's wrinkles you're concerned with, just take the time to iron it.

After failing to steam Scott's work shirts with the same ease as Stupid Kiosk Guy, I tried a few of mine with slightly greater (but not total) success, then got bored and tried to steam the wallpaper off the bathroom wall. (Wasn't happening.) Went back to shirts, but eventually got mad at the small wrinkles that wouldn't go away, and lugged out the ironing board, the Black and Decker, and all of my shirts plus one of Scott's. I probably ironed more extraneous creases into the garments than out of them, but whatever, at least the changes it made were visible.

The verdict on the ItalSteam: Don't throw away your ferro.

ItalSteam: preliminary review (and small follow-up rant)

I bought an ItalSteam from the Miracle Mile shops in Vegas (formerly the Desert Passage, I believe). <-- I do believe that's a "before" pic. The smooth-talking kiosk operator failed to mention that you need to add salt to the tap water, but other than that, it's just as he promised*. Lightweight, no muss, no board, no fuss. I guess I'll add "press shirts" to my short but growing list of wifely duties, which otherwise includes "make lasagna three or four times a year," and "stop spending like a fiend on things which benefit my eye for candy alone."

*Erm, it is just as he promised because in the mall I was pulling on one side while he pulled the other side, making the fabric taut and easy to deal with. Also, when steaming my dad's shirts, same thing. But what happens when no one's there to pull the fabric for you? Nothing happens. Or you try pulling it with one hand and end up burning your fingers with the steam. Nice. I should also mention that the initial power-up makes my bathroom lights flicker.

Send colorful complaints and stories of blown fuses to thatdamnedcat@gmail.com.

wish v were here

I know Charlotte Russe is for 16-year-old tarts and Dress Barn is for nice old ladies, but I can't resist ducking into either one on an outlet spree. I have this collection of clothes and accessories at home that never get worn, but that I love enough to be happy they're just hanging in my closet. The bohemian paisley orange creamsicle dress. A belted, tunic-length, sheer beige cover-up from Banana Republic. Endless faux Pashmina scarves. A knot-front yellow chiffon thing, too long to wear with pants, too short to be a dress. An asymmetrical tube top. (Okay, there is no love for the asymmetrical tube top - that was purely experimental.)

I really try to keep function-less clothing purchases to a minimum, but now and then I just can't resist (especially if the object of my desire is 70 percent off Cheap to Begin With.) Tomorrow I'll take a pic of my newest puzzling acquisition. In the meantime, it's 1 a.m. and I seriously need sleep.

it's not spray punch punch*

My first piercing, age 3. There are no photos to go with this story, only the story itself. I was a chubby toddler who could probably have been coaxed into jumping off a cliff, had enough ice cream been promised beforehand. My godmother proposed ear-piercing to my mother, who refused to take me (or be a witness) herself. However, she was more than happy to let my godmother (her sister) take me. And as legend has it, all she had to do to get me to permit a total stranger to punch holes in my ears with something she casually referred to as "a gun," was offer me one scoop of ice cream for each successful mutilation. Sold. Two gold studs and two scoops of Baskin-Robbins later, two lifelong loves were born: piercings and chocolate ice cream.

When I was 12 or 13, I got the second set of holes done - and this time, I led my hip but aging godmother to the booth. We got it done together. Unfortunately, the not-so-bright bulb at 14 Karat Plum pierced my right ear so near the edge that any and all earrings look stupid worn on level 2. So I don't wear any.

College - 3rd year I think - my finals were done, I had time on my hands, and so my friend Jessica and I skipped off after work to Paragon to get our navels pierced. I LOVED it. And still do.

Throughout the years between, I did random cartilage piercings in my ears (at Claire's, for the most part) that I got tired of and allowed to close. In 2004 I went to Vegas and got my tragus pierced. In 2006, V and I, on a total whim, schlepped down to Hawaiian Tattoo Co. and walked away in ... pain. It was my most subversive, least-loved, shortest-lived, most talked-about piercing yet. I did like it - quite a lot actually - but decided yesterday that it was time to trade it in for something tamer.

So, there ya go. <-- That is not the finished piercing, obviously (although I have been considering the "Industrial" since grad school). The finished piercing is a "conch" piercing: a cartilage piercing that wraps around that whole lower-ear section. Because Diamond Farrar, the piercer, knew exactly what I wanted in terms of size and material, the end result is very cute. (I don't have pictures to prove this claim. Alas, alack.) And with that, and this, that makes two of us that are done. (Except I'm keeping mine.)

*Anyone who can figure this one out deserves a prize. Unfortunately, I don't have one to give you, but you deserve one anyway.

i can't wait

zapatos

Right: My absolute hands-down favorite going-out shoes (VS, black patent stils). Since I walk hard (no Dewey Cox jokes please), I wear my shoes out pretty quickly, so it's a rare occasion that these get taken out. I'm a big fan of Victoria's Secret shoes (mostly because I so love shopping from home.) I've ended up with a few real bummers (a beautiful pair of 4-inch heeled cocoa pumps, for instance, that will not stay on my feet) but for the most part have been very happy with my purchases.

Below: My first lace-ups, from Journeys @ Ala Moana about 3 years ago. They're not of the greatest functional design, and are very hard to walk in. But they spark a fond memory - of the time I decided to wear them with blue paisley cabana pants to Starbucks one summer evening when I still lived at home. It was the first time I looked in the mirror, knew I fell into the Weird bin, and left the house happily anyway. So the shoes are a permanent fixture in my collection.

Played with my shoes for about an hour this afternoon, in lieu of a nap. I'm so deep into Summer Mode already ...

speaketh ye parseltongue?

Words can probably not express how much I love this shoe (unless "Eeeeeeee!" is a word.) I thought I was way over the animal print thing, but I was wrong. Notice the heart-shaped buckle, please (which, by the way, is silver, not gold as the picture suggests).

dreaming in dutch

Since my first-ever trip to an IKEA (Old Town Pasadena circa 1998), I've wanted a loft bed (with a desk or dresser underneath.) Since lofts are all made for single sleepers (or the twelve-and-under set), I suppose that'll remain a dream unfulfilled. Sigh.

Done. Spending.

Skirts tend not to work for me. I have a few teacher-y ones (you know, the calf-length denim sort) that make me look appropriately frumpy for work. I have two Cinnamon Girl-style floral skirts (ankle length, I think those were circa 2001 when I re-discovered how fun it was to be a girl). I have some positively hoochie-length things from various places (those work for me only because they get positive reviews from S). So I thought I'd aim for the median - somewhere between schoolmarm and streetwalker. Got this swingy linen thing from VS - of course like everything else it looks much different in the catalog. ("Would you still love me if I were Amish?" I asked Scott.)

I desperately want to break out my new shooz but as S is in his final 15 minutes of preparation for his ASSETS test, I do not want to stress him out any further. I'll wait till he's showering off his long day before finding my new babies a space in the shoe nest.

like supermarket sweep

Fun: Set your kitchen timer for 5 minutes and see how many things you can think of that you need/want to/would buy if you had an unlimited amount of cash. Off-limits: real estate, cars, things you'd buy just to re-sell. GO!

5 Hedonistic Minutes

Bedroom furniture
An ergonomic office chair for each of the three tables I work at in my classroom
Elsa Peretti earrings from Tiffany
Audiobooks: Chronicles of Narnia (something about C.S. Lewis' prose - I just find it yucky. But the stories are awesome!)
Tumi workbag
Laptop computer
Hardwood floors for the apartment
Betsey Johnson sandals
A cell phone that can actually text out
Doggie day-care membership
A treadmill
Turtle Spa

Wow, that's a relatively short list for 300 whole seconds of pure, unadulterated selfish thought ... OK, your turn.

i'm so going to miss her!

So, Vickie leaves for Oregon in mere days. Here she is getting drawn on by Chris of 808 Tattoo. And if the cosmos will allow it, we're doing one more alteration before her departure. (Unfortunately every time we try to get pierced, the place is closed, the piercer just quit, etc. Maybe it's the universe telling us to Leave Pierced Enough Alone. But we are scheduled to make one more attempt on Monday.)

So I put the brakes on my spendage but not before I bought my tattoo a pair of shoes. (Not the wellies - which, by the way, arrived today. I was hoping the delivery was my camera.) Why does my tattoo need a pair of shoes? Because it looks cute in straps.

Scott's over-the-phone reaction to my choice of design: "You always do crazy stuff when you're with her!" Hee. So true. Well, at least I didn't tattoo the Veggie Tales gang on my rear end. (Yes, I know someone who did.)

mourning has broken

I am not a huge fan of ultra-skinny cameras; I like having more than a little something to grab onto. So I hope this image of my new, en-route Cybershot is one of those advertising illusions, like when a realtor photographs his Kleenex-box-sized apartment and makes it look like a mansion.

I've officially stopped Spending With Abandon, but here is the total damage of my grief-induced spree:

Camera: $279.00
Cam accessories: $45
Chooka Koi wellies: $48
I Was Told There'd Be Cake: $8.40
Middlesex: A Novel: $7.49
Shipping charges: $20
G-fab '80s-esque tattoo: $50 + karma tip
Total: $457.89

Lest you think me unbelievably frivolous, that leaves from my tax returns / stim payment $3,043 for general survival necessities and wedding savings. Gee, that's a lot. Maybe I should shop some more.

just kidding, eesh.

And yes, there will be a tattoo pic when my cam arrives.

toys

Meet my new wellies. These are much cooler than the daisies (though I have to admit, these will be even tougher than the daisies to pull off).

How else am I doing my part to keep America out of recession? By replacing irreplaceable goods with the next-best thing. I did one last sweep of the classroom for my camera this afternoon - I just could not believe it hadn't been returned to me; anyone with eyes could review the photos and would know it was mine. Therefore, I rationalized for days upon days (sparking a near-week-long Denial period) that it must be somewhere in the classroom or somewhere in my apartment. Although I could clearly see in my memory where in the grass I had set it down last Tuesday, I continued to overturn the same stones - day after day after day.

Finally, today, I realized something: I can't go on much longer without a camera. I have to have one. In order to get a new one, I have to accept that my old one is gone forever. Whoever has it is going to keep it - and probably erase every one of the memories on it without regard for its deep significance. So I got home, and before even dropping my bag on the floor, I sat down and logged onto Amazon.com. After MUCH frustration trying to order an upgraded version of my Cybershot from Electronic Express (which for some reason had a shipping rate of $90 for a 2-lb parcel and then informed me they didn't ship to Hawaii at all), I figured out (duh) that all I had to do was not order from a storefront and just order straight from Amazon.

So, my camera (along with its jolly little carrying case - oh! and my wellies, and two paperbacks) should be arriving well in time to document graduation. After this pain and heartbreak I'm not letting my camera out of my sight ever again. OK, maybe I won't bring it into the shower with me but that's the extent of the distance I'll allow between me and my baby.

i love chooka

Question. Can wellies be worn over skinny jeans? Because I really want these. I know it almost never rains hard enough to warrant actually buying them, but ... but ... I want them. And I am not a regular skirt person, and I have yet to find a pair of bootcut jeans that actually accomodate boots underneath. So, please tell me or point me in the direction of the answer to my question. I really, really want these!

ask and ye shall receive

I love me new bangs. I didn't think they'd be able to cut me any (not the kind I wanted, anyway - thick and full) but the Aveda geniuses worked their usual magic and voila, fringe!

I also kind of love my one blue extension (it was impromptu-anime day at my favorite Aveda) but you can't see it in the pic.







And since I know a scary picture of me is going to surface on an arbitrary and incoherent blog sometime soon:


(The finished product looks fabulous but I didn't get a pic of it because she ran off to meet the in-laws. Hee.)

I found the real wedding dress of my dreams @ the trunk show after ACUW's 2008 fundraiser fashion show. Side note: so DIFFERENT from "our" show last year! They dropped two grand for professional models, and God knows how much more for lighting and audio. It was a wonderful show - worth every penny (I have heard that Anne Namba would not have it any other way - she personally oversees everything she puts her name on, including all fashion shows.)

So worth the added cost. I still think our show was awesome - and that the closing parade of Calista fashions to Jessica Simpson's "Public Affair" was the perfect finale - but this year's show was clearly professionally constructed and choreographed. Low lighting, lots of house-mixed Michael Buble, and a Spring collection I would die to own. Or just try on. Or even touch. Reds and oranges (standing alone; mingling on creamy backgrounds), brocades and sequins, kimono-inspired tops, even some stuff that looked like it belonged on the beach.

I dragged Bonnie to the trunk show backstage where she encouraged me to try on a $2400 wedding dress (no, thank you, what if I love it?) and we dorkily got our picture taken with the designer (who is exceptionally cool, because she let me photograph her clothes.)

This is not the greatest picture of the dress - the room's poor lighting makes it look orange, when it's actually a true red. Don't worry, I know that only a China-Chinese or a truly ballsy, New Yorkified Chinese American could get away with so red a wedding dress. It's just for fun. Sniff.

weekend fav file: beauty

In keeping with all things wedding, some weekend favorites:

Old fav, BBW Country Apple. I was excited to find the full-sized bottle for $3.99 at Primm. The Old Me would have bought 20 bottles and shipped them all home so I'd never again run out. New Me bought just the one.


New fav, Fekkai glossing cream. Smells like olive oil (in a good way, I swear); makes your hair feel seeelky and full.


Borrowed fav, Philosophy products. Vickie buys them by the gallon, or something.


Blue fav, Body and Soul eyeshadow in Cadet Blue. I made my first smoky eye ever with this magic substance. (It's not a loose powder shadow, by the way. I dropped my tin two or three times, and this is the result.)

tribute to my shower caddy

See the green bottle of Tea Tree shampoo (2nd level) and the lone bar of soap (1st level) in the caddy? Those are Scott's only products. Everything else (imagine an old-school medicine cabinet full of stuff, too) is mine.

Bath products are my weakness. We just got back from Vegas, where we showed remarkable restraint at a Bath and Body Works outlet where everything was about 70 percent off. Good thing, because the weekend of our return, Vickie introduced me to Philosophy. I don't know if it's doing anything for my skin, but everything smells so damned good I'm hooked.

But then, I've always been easy when it comes to BPs.

Some of my favorites: Basin soaps, especially "Munchkin baby" and oatmeal complexion; Frederic Fekkai shampoos; Origins sea salt products. And regardless of what the ladies at Sephora, Philosophy and Bare Escentuals say, I will always have a special place in my heart (and on my face) for Whatever's On Sale at Longs.

maxed

Bottom line of a great Harper's Bazaar article on dressing well without going hungry: Find your "uniform" and go high end on everything that falls under its umbrella. For me, for teaching, 90 percent of the time it's a t-shirt, jeans and sandals. It's not as unprofessional as it sounds ... think solid-colored v-neck and jeans with a respectable rise. Sometimes I dress it up with a blazer and/or a belt, but that's pretty much the bottom line. A t-shirt. A pair of jeans. You never know, in my job, when you'll have to climb something, crawl on the floor, chase someone, or be at work till 6:30 p.m.

Here and there I will totally freak out my kids by wearing a dress or my glasses, but for the most part, the "uniform" is basic and utilitarian. However, I can't bring myself to wear sneakers - footwear is the one thing I don't habitually go uber-casual on. Although I do go uber-weird at times ... my Sugar wedges (odd floral things that do look somewhat edible), Aeropostale flats (maroon), and patent-leather mary janes (4-inch heels) are among my weirder footwear choices. S was inspecting my feet the other day, exclaiming over little scars and yesterday's blisters, till I had to chase him away with the explanation that for me, interesting (if not beautiful) footwear will always be worth the high price(s) - measured in discomfort and debt.

viva

There's nothing like a good pair of sweats to get you through a flight.


Travel footwear. Sexy, huh?


I haven't lined the other eye yet.


Am off to the airport shortly ... last-min TDL:
Go to Longs and pick up Vogue, a wedding mag, and anything else that might amuse me for the better part of six hours.

hoot

In My Closet: I never really noticed that boutique but since V gave me a gift card a few months back, I've been itching to go and finally got to last weekend. It's a very cute place ... and the people are really nice. I love that it's full of drawers and glass cabinets that you can pull out and snoop through. Anyway, I got something fun ... it caught my eye as soon as I walked in. I browsed through everything but ended up with my original find. You'll laugh, or possibly scratch your head. But it's an appropos purchase considering my line of work:

white!

OK, with one of my last remaining gift cards I went to (V's favorite store) Macy's and bought ... a pearl-white Style & Co. bag. I don't know what came over me. They had black, brown and champagne as well, but I went with white because 1) I'm going to Vegas next week and it seemed a Vegas-y color 2) I have too many black bags and 3) the brown was ugly. The champagne was really nice - I did consider that one - but thought I'd take the white plunge. Yeah, it'll probably be gray by the time I come back. Oh well. That's the beauty of a gift card - you don't feel SO bad when your purchase is impractical.

so smart!!

Thanks to V for this link. It is truly ingenious. I do wonder about karma but I wouldn't be buying, just selling ...

it's not gonna be vera wang

this would seem to belong in the wedding blog, but i'm putting it here instead: i now have $255 saved up in my wedding gown fund. if that isn't a reason to keep putting those shoes back*, i dunno what is.

*blah de blah backstory: in my foggy-headed state of once-a-year sickness, i have a whole lot of time on my hands which leads to copious hours spent tooling around VerycheapShoes.com, otherwise known as VictoriasSecret.com. I haven't bought those three pairs yet. Yet.

i heart-with-a-slash-through-it tiffany

No one else I know has ever complained about customer service at Tiffany. Maybe every time before I walk in, unbeknownst to me, someone slaps a sign saying "Ghetto Biyatch, Do Not Approach" on my forehead. I really can't think why else I would get consistently bad CS there. I don't dress like crap, I'm very polite, and although it shouldn't matter, I usually don't go in unless I'm wearing jewelry that is tasteful and noticeable - usually something from the very store I'm entering. I haven't dropped megabucks at the Ala Moana store but the amount of money I've spent (and that have been spent there on my behalf) since I developed a taste for the "Return To" and Elsa Peretti collections is about two grand. I realize that this is a paltry drop in the bucket they keep in the janitor's closet, but it's not peanuts to me, as I don't and likely never will be a six-figure gal.

The few pieces I own are much loved - so loved that pieces that would, by traditional consideration, be considered inappropriate to keep, I haven't parted with. My collection is modest in size and item cost, but I love everything: Toggle heart tag necklace and matching heart tag bracelet (gifts), Elsa eternity circle pendant (graduation gift), 1837 silver ring (V-Day Gift - Love, Me!), 1837 silver lock ring (2006 V-Day /"I'll-never-be-anyone's" gift to me, Love, Me!), heart tag screwball keychain (bridesmaid gift from Bonnie), apple bookmark ("You survived the pageant!" gift from family friends). Most recent purchase: a "Return To" heart tag pendant hanging from a loopable, rather bohemian silver chain. (Love, Me.) Liked it, couldn't justify it, returned it. Life goes on.

Anyway, this entry is about how much I love Tiffany jewelry and deplore Tiffany employees. Side note: The 30 total minutes I've spent visiting Harry Winston's diamonds shortly after it opened in Ala Moana were more enjoyable than the hours I've spent contemplating actual purchases at Tiffany. Especially the time I waited three decades for the diamond lady to decide to talk to me - she took such a long time peeking out of the back room and going back in, never saying a word, that I figured I probably didn't look like I was worth helping, commission-wise, and when she finally comes out (because I refuse to go away), what's the first thing she shows me? A $41,000 engagement ring featuring a rock the size of Jupiter, which she plunks down on the glass with a smirk and a "Do you like this one?" ... So I put it on. I mean, I didn't want to be a waste of her time or anything.

Another time, I was looking at some stuff in the front of the store, where two male employees were discussing football. They never stopped discussing football. I left. The only other place I've experienced such blatantly bad customer service was CompUSA, where I needed to buy a digital camera and get back into town within the next 45 minutes and was so desperate that I would have spent up to $500 on absolute crap - but fortunately because NONE of the photo employees would stop chatting with each other to help me, I saved myself from spending $500 on crap and ended up spending about $200 on a decent CyberShot. Pulled a guy from a totally different area of the store and asked him for help. Just like I wish I could bring a guy from Harry Winston into Tiffany so I could get courteous and speedy service when browsing jewelry.

Why do I feel more at home in a store where the employees know just by looking at me that I'm walking out empty-handed, than in a store where I've made actual purchases?

I know that no one in Tiffany gives a fig whether I spend my usual $300 a year in their store, ever again. I guess that's good for both of us. God knows how much money I'd spend if I actually felt welcome there.

it's all about the candy

I don't remember getting so into Valentine's Day when I was a kid. But these guys are actually asking each other to be their Valentines(!), writing notes to each other, and (this is the best part) bringing candy to school by the bucketload. I am aware that I'm supposed to sternly instruct them to take it all home and not eat a bite here in school, but I would have to tell them that through a mouthful of chocolate. So I don't think I'll bother.

myliner

So this morning I woke up 15 minutes early to attempt a wet powder eyeliner (whatever possessed me to take the maiden voyage on a non-pencil liner on a weekday morning is beyond me - oh no, wait, maybe it was the beautiful box and seemingly fail-safe instructions?) ...

I don't know. I glanced at myself as I climbed out of the car in the parking lot, and thought the "bare" in "Bare Minerals" was a little too true. Maybe I should give myself 20 minutes tomorrow.