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.)