I Kissed a Girl

I just finished kicking Phil's ass--again, yawn--in our game of the moment, Blokus. I can't help that I keep trumping him so soundly. It's a gift. However, as long as Colburn lives, I shall not rest until I bring that focker down! Seriously though, this game is more addictive than crack. And pretty much as bad for you. People get verbally abusive when they're losing.

Somebody explain why she's trying to lick my fo'head?!

I have to post these new pics before they disappear into the depths of my laziness. I still haven't posted the ones from Vegas, and that was back in July! These are from last weekend at Blue Velvet. Five minutes after arriving, a very nice young man bought me one shot of chilled Grey Goose, from which proceeded heavy inebriation and blotchy purple skin for the rest of the night. No joke. I drove home five hours later with an alcohol-induced headache.

Trang and me: five years later, nothing changes.

Seriously, looking at that pic reminds me that my hair is too effin long and gross. I'm so done with this horse-weave. All I want for Christmas from B is his permission to chop that shit off.

Yeah, I know, this isn't a very informative post or anything; I've been exhausted from my full schedule lately. Playing Blokus five hours a day just wears you out! Haha. I'm going to bed. With my gorgeous pit bull. And I get free pizza from Pizza Hut tomorrow. Yeah, top that!

Something's Missing

I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh, plunge me deep in love--put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.

-I Am Not Yours, by Sara Teasdale

We Laugh Indoors

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Fuck Me Pumps

The Spoofy in Bone, $125 $29.94

All Charles by Charles David shoes are a mere $30 at 6pm.com (sister site of Zappos) right now! I currently have all these open browser tabs with shoes, and it's agonizing having to choose among them. And by agonizing, I mean like the "tie me up and never stop spanking that hot ass" kind of excruciating.

The Chuckle in Dark Brown, $279 $29.94

The Zora in Black, $142 $29.94

And for a little cherry on top, Hard Candy has 75% off the entire site right now. You know you remember the old school nail polishes with the signature jelly rings! Who can say no to value-priced makeup?! (ME. That's who. I have waaay too many products for my face. But you, enjoy. It's a celebration, bitches!)

Vintage Nail Polish $7 $1.75 each

Hot Stuff

I was browsing Agent Provocateur's 50% off sale, when one of the models caught my eye. Lo and behold, it's the fabulous Maggie Gyllenhaal! I absolutely adore her! Ever since Secretary, one of my all-time favorite movies ever, I have had the utmost respect for her as an actress. (Not to mention two whole wet dreams about James Spader. Oomf.) I love seeing the sexy, sultry side of her. You rock, Mags!


Oh yeah, and her ensemble in the pic? It's called Francois, and the set of bra and panties is a mere $147. Yeah, that's after the 50% discount. Yowza!

Summertime

I just returned from the madness of my first Six Man tourny over at Manhattan Beach. Good God! It was like Halloween meets Mardi Gras meets a beach blowout. Despite the huge signs all over the city strictly forbidding alcohol on the beach, that stuff was everywhere. Enterprise, where Jen works, had a tent set up and a big cooler of margaritas. Jen proceeded to get her buzz on, while I declined as usual. I did, however, take half a Jello shot when I ran into Charlene, whom I haven't seen in years! She was completely drunk (you can tell because she gets this vacant, vacuous look in her eyes that would be really scary if she weren't so freakin' gorgeous), and told us she'd been giving out her jiggly shots to the ladies if they gave back some jiggly bare chesticles. I promised to come back to flash see her later, but I forgot which booth was hers. Plus it really was so ridiculously crowded that it was a miracle I even found her in the first place.

I'm not really taller than Char. She's on her knees.

Jen milkin' the goodies at the Enterprise tent.

I've been beaching it a lot this summer, which is great. I usually only do that whenever Tomo's in town, since she's the ultimate beach bum. But ever since Brad took me to the Huntington Beach dog beach, I've been all over it. I went there last weekend with Bernard, then again yesterday with my mom and cousin (and, of course, my precious Pumpkin pie).

Momma Ho and Shelby

Look how happy she is in the water! And plus it totally gives her a chance to interact with other dogs, which is so great because she has so few friends (the dog-owners around here are lame; they all back off when they see my pit bull stroll down the street). BTW, the water yesterday was incredibly refreshing, surprisingly clear, and thoroughly enjoyable.

Anyway, I guess the point of this post is just to put up some pics...and to say that summer is definitely my favorite season, and I <3 SoCal.

Supernatural Superserious

The book I read right after Angry Candy ended up being another sci-fi/fantasy short story collection. I wasn't seeking the genre, but found it by browsing boingboing.net, which happens to have a science fiction author as an editor. The site provided a link to a completely free download of Maureen F. McHugh's Mothers & Other Monsters. Even though I definitely prefer the tangible method of reading by curling in bed with sunflower seeds, digital readings are pretty damn convenient. I had never heard of this author before, and I certainly wouldn't have bought her book, and suddenly within one minute and two clicks, I had her fiction on a PDF file in front of me.


So, is it worth the read? I think you should definitely check it out. Nearly every story had me in awe over her creativity, scratching my head and wondering how the hell anyone could come up with that stuff. (Gotta be some shrooms up in her diet. 'Fess up, McHugh!) My top three of the bunch are Interview: On Any Given Day (its This American Life-like format is ingenious), Nekropolis (splendid visuals) and Laika Comes Back Safe (can't hate a werewolf love story, even with a sucky ending). She certainly has some really interesting stuff. However, I have to admit that I just wasn't that into it. I couldn't really get into any of the characters, and then even with the long-ass stories that did draw me in, the tale would be so bleak that I'd just be pissed that I had to read all that and not even get a happy ending. The worst one was The Cost to Be Wise, hands down. Ugh! But whatever, it's free! And you can read it at work and no one would know it! Ah, man, I spoil you guys.

Who Are You

I shut down my Friendster page, so I'm going to put the pictures here or else they'll disappear forever. Which wouldn't be so terrible, come to think of it. After all, these are the sluttiest of the social-networking bunch; it went from Lesbo-Makeout-Whore on Friendster, to Still-Somewhat-Skanky on Myspace, to Nerdy-McBookworm (right?) on Facebook. All are legitimate aspects of my character, but I just feel that as I get older it becomes less appropriate to bare it all to the public. But these pix really are the last of their kind; over the years I've broken and lost laptops, and when you don't "back up," losing files and memories just comes with the territory. Since I've pilfered them directly off Friendster, the quality's going to be God-awful.

The reason this pic is so teeny is because I resized it for my LiveJournal icon. Now it's the only copy I have left in the world to remind me of one of the craziest nights of debauchery ever. At least, I think it was that night. It was definitely at Rob's house (Filipino Rob, not Abercrombie Rob), probably during the summer of 2002. We had a lot of crazy nights that involved partying, drugs, and making out. See, I've always been a horny bitch, but I've never been able to give it up to just anyone. I have to care about and like the person a lot to spread my legs. In spite of that, I still made some pretty dumb choices. But that's for some other entry, some other day. So I'd just do my fair share of kissing as a sad substitute for sex. That's Tomo (on the right) and me, back when she had super short locks.

Good GOD. I went semi-blond for a summer. It was one time (ok, ok, twice if you count that I went back to do the roots a few weeks later), and it'll never happen again, I swear! I can't even remember when this was taken, but I'm thinking summer of 2003? I believe this was at a house party, but my memory fails to provide any other details. Look how thin my eyebrows were! Blech!

Ok, my best guess for this is early 2000's, but that's all I can tell you. This is Kelly (on the right) and me, and I think this was at her Jamba Juice coworker's house in Manhattan Beach. Renee, another girl and coworker, was there along with the guy whose parents owned the house. None of us were attracted to him (except maybe Renee?) so I have no idea why the hell Kelly and I are gargling one another's tonsils. It wasn't for attention, and it wasn't because we were hot for one another (we're best friends!) so go figure. I know I was buzzed, and maybe she was drunk, so that's probably what did it. Heh. I remember when I posted this, I made it black and white because my face was redonkulously red from the alcohol.

I totally remember this shot of Trang (on the right) and me. This was done purely for attention; it was the summer (either '02 or '03) we met a group of cute ass mofos from Idaho (Iowa?) living next door to Rob. We were both hung up on assholes who never could, and never would, make us happy, so these boys were a welcome distraction. So we kissed each other and played it up for the whooping fellas. I ended up making out with the hottest one on the very first night, while Trang snagged herself the other hottie of the crew. Good times.

So there you have it. Putting it on my blog is like recording it for posterity ("Look all the hot bitches mommy used to bag! Can you say vagina?"). These pictures are no longer just out there on a single page, one click away for anyone to see. But yeah, I do have a soft spot for Friendster--it's how Bernard found me years later after our initial meeting! Before I closed the account, I tried to save the very first message he sent me. Unfortunately, Friendster had wiped out the info. Bastards. Speaking of B, someone has stolen his pictures on Myspace. Some girl was browsing and saw the other guy, then did a double-take when she found the real B only a few moments later. She was nice enough to send him a message with the link. How creepy is that?!

21 Questions

Alright, I'm squeezing in one more blog, and then I'm going to sleep until 5pm. A few of us leftover from those Abercrombie days reunited last week for Robby. Jesus, how did a whole week pass already?! I meant to blog about it that very night! Anyway, Robby had an 11hr layover in LA, en route from South Korea to Michigan. We all got together and headed to the beach, grabbing dinner at Hennessey's on the Hermosa Strand. (My "Moo Cluck Oink Burger" was divine: fried egg, bacon, and cheddar cheese on top of the fluffiest, juiciest meat.) I hardly ever see these guys, but every time I do, it ends up being the most hilarious, utterly twisted, and thoroughly enjoyable time ever.

It was sunset, so the light was fading. Me and Rob.

So allow me to introduce my boys:
Chuck: Former coworker at A&F, who is a finance whiz and got me an almost 40% return on my investment--during these bearish times! Mad Money fanatic, typical yuppie, Howard Stern devotee, all tied together with a surprisingly good heart (he's from the South, ya'll).
Robby: Former manager at A&F, who is credited for initially bringing everyone together for good times. Avid blogger, voracious writer, and a hopelessly horny romantic. Plans on marrying his gf back home...then again, he says that about every girl he falls for, lol.
Rick: Former coworker turned manager at A&F, he's the reason I was able to stay on payroll and get the 30% discount without ever really working. Basketballer, working on his Master's, and also a hopelessly horny romantic. Rollercoaster of a love life lately, telenovela-style!

The Dorks (L to R): Chuck, Robby, Rick

So they like to play a game called "Would You Rather," which originated in the stores during closing time when the pounding, throbbing music would be turned off, and the eery silence looming over the employees folding clothes would force them to probe into the dark corners of their minds. Typical guy shit would be the grossest stuff you could conjure up, while girls would usually ask, "Would you rather date her...or her? [giggle]" Robby is disturbingly good at this game. "Would you rather take a double shot of heavy flow...oooooooor...take a double shot of really thick spooge? Would you rather give a blow job to a male dog oooooooor go down on a female one?" (The guys unanimously agreed to gobble canine carpet.) Seriously, when these guys get together, it's like an explosion of perverted wit and quips.

Rick: Would you rather get anal raped by a homeless guy with AIDS...except that his dick has spikes...oooooooor--
Rob: What do you mean spikes? Like, thorns?
Rick: Yeah. So not only are you getting AIDS, but you're getting torn up. Oooooor, you get a sex change operation.
Rob: Oh shit. That's a hard one. Uhm...I'd pick the homeless guy.
Me: Really?!
Rob: Yeah! I could probably survive AIDS; I don't want to go through life with a vagina!

Rob: Would you rather be in a room with your parents and have to finger your grandma without anyone knowing, oooooooor be at a family reunion with all your extended family, everyone, and have to give a blow job to Rick on a stage?
Chuck: I'd finger Grandma and tell everyone about it!

Later, after Megan (the girl Rick is dating) left, Rick and Chuck were on my case because I had gushed about her attractiveness.

Chuck: You totally want her, don't you?
Me: I don't want her, but I think she's really pretty.
Rick: Ok, but would you do anything with her? If you had the chance?
Me: [shrug] Probably.
Rick: That is messed up.
Me: What?!
Rick: I would never go behind your back and hook up with Bernard...again. I would never again sleep with him behind your back!

Haha. I love those losers.

Stellar

So it's now a mere three and a half hours since I went to sleep. My sister came home after a night of drama and reiterated it, loudly, at 7:30am to her friend. It woke me up and I started listening in; by the time she was done I was completely mentally alert. So I shuffled out of bed and made the most delicious breakfast: three organic free-range eggs, two pieces of Ralph's brand (so not good) bacon, a handful of crimini mushrooms, two pieces of sourdough bread, and a cup of blood-orange soda. I'm still awake, so I might as well get on with catching up on blogging the books I've been reading.


I first heard of Harlan Ellison only last year, when he was mentioned in this fascinating article by Josh Olson, the writer of A History of Violence. Olson tells the true story of an insane internet predicament that happened to his friend; it's pretty crazy and worth the read. I looked up Ellison afterwards, and discovered that he's known mainly for his sci-fi short stories. Now, while I'm not a big sci-fi fan (it's hard to relate to characters when they're living on the planet Goober of the 62nd dimension), I happen to love short stories. How can I be adverse to something that often packs as strong a punch as a novel, but for only a fraction of the length?!

Plus, you're way more likely to find short stories posted up on a webpage somewhere, for instant gratification. Unfortunately, from my brief research, Mr. Ellison seems to have a reputation for being a bit of a pompous ass, and is very tenacious when it comes to tracking down and destroying any distributed work of his over the internet. However, he was gracious enough to share a couple of stories, Susan and Paladin of the Lost Hour. The moment I read those, I knew I had to read more. So I did more research and ordered Angry Candy, apparently his most acclaimed collection of short stories.

Like I said, I'm not a sci-fi kind of gal...but some of these tales were so beautifully rendered that the whole fantasy element didn't even detract from my enjoyment. My top three are On the Slab (so wrenching that I can't even bring myself to reread it), Paladin, and the vividly entertaining Quicktime. The weirdest shit was The Region Between; I have never encountered a short story as wacky as that one. But mostly, it's just a really well-written collection, powerfully paired with an incredible imagination. If this is sci-fi, it's good shit, and I wouldn't mind getting in on more of it.

Lolli Lolli

YES! I finally found my camera charger, so I was able to upload some new/old pix. I think we all agree it's time to retire this one from Myspace, because I'm freaking 25 years old and, let's face it, publicly whoring it up just ain't cute anymore. I will, however, leave it here along with some details. This was taken October of 2006, during Nancy's 25th birthday bash at Tao in Vegas. I had one shot of Grey Goose, half a mimosa, and I was tossed. Since I rarely get shitfaced, Bernard used it fully to his advantage, and eagerly snapped pics of me and Nance making out. Soon after, she began hurling into the champagne bucket. I took one look, desperately attempted to gulp down the bile, then shoved her aside to project my own vomit into the mix. Yeah, boy! I've got the sexiest stories on the street! Don't make me break out my baby bathtub shots!

I should also take down those hoochie pix on my Friendster from baaaack in the day. Dude, I should just shut down that account. I haven't checked it in years. I'll do that later. My sleeping schedule has been effed lately. It's starting to have an effect on my disposition. I had to play with myself twice today just to get some homework done! (Jaime Pressly's softcore stint in the Poison Ivy series never lets me down. Oomf!) But I have a good excuse for being so nocturnal, seriously! I don't want to talk about it too much though, because I'm afraid to jinx it. Let's just wait and see what happens; it's at that beginning stage where it could go either way. But I really haven't felt this giddy in quite some time now. >_<

One Step at a Time

I just made "Cold Avocado Soup" from my recipe book, and it seriously took me five minutes!! Now it just needs to chill in the fridge for a few hours. Man, this cooking thing is awesome. I haven't mentioned it, but back in February, I made my very first quiche. Quiche is B's specialty; last year for my birthday I specifically requested he make one because we hadn't had it in so long. Well, now I make my own, and I've made about seven or eight ever since then! I mean, this is seriously my very first real cooked dish! I've only ever made eggs and sandwiches, nothing that involved baking or whatever. I even took pictures of my quiche; I was so proud. But I can't find the charger for my camera right now, and it won't turn on, so I'm just using a stock pic I found off the internet.


So after five months of repeating (but not yet perfecting) and devouring the same dish, I finally decided to get on trying something new. A couple of weeks ago, I tried making "Open-Faced Crab Sandwiches," but the crab mix turned out God-awful. Come to think of it, it's still sitting there in the fridge. Oops. Anyway, I just now made the soup, and tomorrow I'm attempting my first pasta: bow-tie with shrimp and pesto. I personally would've preferred linguine or fettuccine, but since I'm new to this whole "making your own food" thing, I'm going to stick to the recipe. Our beautiful kitchen is actually more useful than just being aesthetically pleasing. Who knew?!

Free Your Mind

Suh-weet! I just found a deal for a one year subscription (6 issues 'cause it's bimonthly) price of $17.95 to Mental Floss--and my last issue (pictured) just came in the mail yesterday. It says it's a limited time offer, but this post was from 2006, and the link still works. This magazine is so worth it! The two times I've brought a copy up to the salon, it was stolen within two days. Even Trang loves it, and she's one of those solely US Weekly and People bitches. Check out their blog some time; it's a great indication of the type and tone of articles you receive in the mag. Three recent articles I found noteworthy (among many) are "Mutual Funds to Match Your Lifestyle" (link), "7 Imposters" (link), and "7 Works of Art That Are Taking a Beating" (link). Because this is where knowledge junkies get their fix.

Shut Up

Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind doth move
Silently, invisibly.

I told my love, I told my love,

I told her all my heart,

Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears.

Ah! she did depart!

Soon after she was gone from me,

A traveller came by,

Silently, invisibly:

He took her with a sigh.

-Love's Secret, by William Blake

The Impression That I Get

My only prior exposure to Henry James was Daisy Miller: A Study, practically a requirement in every English Lit anthology. I didn't find it anything too special, so I wasn't expecting much from The Portrait of a Lady, hailed by many as his greatest masterpiece. Yeah. How can I put this? His writing is entirely extraordinary. I could sit here and gush for hours about how his way with words is exquisitely eloquent and magnificently molded. If you're more about substance than style, this is not the book for you. James wrote in over 600 pages a story which arguably could be told in less than 100. It's as if he took a small subplot from a more complex storyline, and diluted it with dreamy details and diaphanous descriptions. Even more infuriating for the average reader, it's like he then decided there was no point in providing a proper conclusion to the subplot, since it was part of a much larger tale anyway. So be warned, it's one of those open-ended stories. I've almost always loathed those, but this time I was so in awe of the author that I barely minded.


I really don't think I've ever encountered his style of writing before. The entire time I was reading it, a persistent metaphor kept popping into my head: an impressionist painting. It's a little lame to say, and I don't know why I kept thinking that--it's not like I'm an art connoisseur. But you know how Monet's vanilla skies are all gorgeously hazy and luminously blurred, intent on offering an impression instead of a sharp picture? That's how Henry James writes! Instead of saying, "Well, he turned out to be very different from what she first believed," he writes, "In that sense, that of the love of harmony and order and decency and of all the stately offices of life, she went with him freely, and his warning had contained nothing ominous. But when, as the months had elapsed, she had followed him further and he had led her in to the mansion of his own habitation, then, then she had seen where she really was." Oh, baby. Just you wait! This introspective inspection continues for many, many more pages. But if you can stare at Monet's lush landscapes for hours, don't be surprised if you fall for the wondrous works of Henry James.

Claude Monet, Woman with a Parasol, 1875

Enjoy the Silence

B is currently in Europe for the next three weeks. He's sort of playing this excursion by ear, but most likely it's Paris, Ireland, possibly Birmingham, a quick visit to the fam in Belgium, Malta, and finally Spain. I. Am. So. Jealous. If the Malta trip goes through, he will be staying a couple nights at the The Westin and then a couple nights at The Hilton--both five-star resorts. And since this is for work, everything is on the company tab. For the past couple of weeks leading up to this, I'd constantly whine, "I want to goooo...!!" His reply? "Maybe if you were my girlfriend!" Bastard.

The Westin Dragonara Resort

What sets this outing apart from the others, besides the fact that he'll be frolicking in an uber lux Mediterranean paradise, is that we've decided to cut off all contact. Keep in mind that B and I are total communication whores. Ever since we got together, there have been exactly five days when we didn't speak at all to one another (yes, shut up, I keep track). Well, that excludes his trip to Brazil in 2005, and last Christmas when he was in a remote Swiss cabin. We abuse our mobile-to-mobile minutes, typically speaking five times a day, although it reduces to one or two times when he's abroad. Yeah, that includes this whole time that we've been broken up. Once he was spanked by his boss for calling me too much overseas, tallying up the company cell phone bill to $2000. We talk on the phone on the way to one another's places, and then get on the phone immediately upon leaving each other's place.

The Hilton Malta

It might sound nuts to most people, but I love it. However, I suggested a talking break because I really think it'd be good for us. What triggered it was B's last work trip two weeks ago, when he was in Mexico. We spent most of our time arguing and feeling crappy. I do not need a repeat of that. Plus, it'll give us time to miss each other! I wanted to do this for the entire three weeks, but Bernard made a good point that he's going to have to call me when he's with his family, or else they'll wonder what's up with us. Plus I still have to give him my shopping list, teehee. Foie gras, chocolate, souvenir mugs (I've started a collection, funded by B), an oiled up Mediterranean man, candy, and Spanish salami. Oomf.

Images of Malta

Oh yeah, and Isaac and I aren't on speaking terms for the moment, and over something really stupid, too. I'm just going to give a quick summary; otherwise my blood will start boiling over it again. (I admit it; one of my many faults is that I can't debate without getting emotionally involved. Trust me, it sucks.) Basically, he completely overreacted and started going off on me over the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. No, scratch that. That's giving the guy waaaay too much credit. He went off on me because I sent him a link (this one) to an article about a 70 year old Palestinian shepherd and his 58 year old wife getting the crap beat out of them by four Jewish assholes. Look, I don't care what ethnicity you are; if you're wielding bats to elderly goat herders, you are a fucking asshole. He could have been rational and said, "Wow, that's awful, but you have to understand that..." and pleaded his case. Instead, he started spewing a whole bunch of racist shit about Arabs, ranted about the BBC's preferential views of Palestine, insisted he had zero sympathy for the victims (that's attractive), and told me off for being biased and affronting his people. Unbelievable! Yeah, I'm just gonna end this now because this might lead to me ranting about how idiotic and close-minded he is, which'll probably lead to me generalizing all conservatives, which'll make me no better than Isaac, that idiotic and close-minded conservative!!

Time to Pretend

Faceinhole.com is a nifty little website where you can put someone's face, well, in a hole. (Unfortunately, the hole I'm referring to neither smells nor oozes. I know, those are my favorite, too!) I love the surprisingly easy functionality, the numerous templates ranging from sexy to silly, and the thorough amusement provided--despite the whole thing being an absolute waste of time. That's Bernard in both of the examples displayed. I also took the liberty of replacing Angelina Jolie with my cheesy mug. Yeah. You're welcome. You never had it so good!

Damaged

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were — I have not seen
As others saw — I could not bring
My passions from a common spring —
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow — I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone —
And all I lov’d — I lov’d alone —
Then — in my childhood — in the dawn
Of a most stormy life — was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still —
From the torrent, or the fountain —
From the red cliff of the mountain —
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold —
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by —
From the thunder, and the storm —
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view —

-Alone, by Edgar Allan Poe

Wear You Out

LR Delia Snakeskin in Taupe $430

Loeffler Randall has recently branched out into boots and clothing, but what really started it all for the brand were the beautifully crafted, astronomically priced flats. One pair could cut you back 300+ dollars, but when you'd slip one on, you'd feel where that money goes (lining the pockets of the smirking company, duh). Then you'd cry into your Forever 21 shopping bag because paying that much for shoes that don't even have a 24K gold stiletto heel or splashy red soles just hurts. Which is why I've never owned any of their stuff. Until Target!

Thank you, Target. Thank you for your brilliant Go International campaign, for putting cheap fabrics into the hands of world-famous designers to make attire for the regular folks. You have brought fashion to the poor, ugly masses, and for that, we are eternally grateful. And now, it gets even better. Because Target's Loeffler Randall collection, already cheap from the start, is currently 75% off. Oh, happy day!

These satchels were originally priced at $49.99. Now, they're only $12.49! I ordered both colors, and I'm just going to keep one. I'll probably give the other one to my mom. For a rich lady, she tends to walk around lugging plastic bags like the world's a perpetual flea market. This should spice up her outfit a bit, and it's probably cheaper than some of those hideously printed fabric bags she carries on occasion!

I bought those black ballet flats full price when this collection first debuted, and I haven't even worn them yet! I should've just waited, because they've dropped from $29.99 to $7.49. So with that in mind, I had to order the pink pair on the bottom. I love them. I love them! I don't care if B hates flats! Seven forty-nine! I should buy more, but I'm being realistic here. I bought the black pair back in January and haven't worn them, so I'm not going to go crazy with all the different colors and styles. I'll leave that to you.

Last but not least, all the clutches are now $4.99, instead of $19.99. Five freakin' dollars for some of the cutest stuff ever! But the only one I indulged in was the woven clutch in cream, which I'll probably return because the reviews aren't that great, and I've never seen them in person at the store. We'll see how it goes when everything arrives in the mail. Go spoil yourselves with some $7 flats, bitches!

Shake It Off

I just returned from spending the day hanging out with Isaac and Pumpkin. I decided that I had to break things off; to keep seeing each other would be pointless and somewhat detrimental. Our beliefs are at complete opposite ends of the spectrum--he's a hardcore, conservative Jew who supports the war and thinks global warming is a hoax, while I'm a bleeding liberal/pacifist who scorns organized religion and digs through trash for bits to recycle. He's a neat-freak to the OCD degree; I'm a sheepish slob. He takes dozens of vitamins a day and is a gym buff; I consider fast food a dietary staple and hardly ever move from bed. I'm surprised we tolerated one another for as long as we did. Plus, the guy has been living in LA and has no social life; the only real new friend he has made is me. One friend. In six months. Having me around is seriously preventing him from breaking out of his loner tendencies to make connections with new people. I really hope that this'll motivate him to go out and mingle!

That being said, Isaac really is a wonderful guy. He handled the demise of our dating like a champ. Sure, it's a bit early to say, but I really think we'll be able to stay good friends. (Then again, I'm always naively optimistic in these situations.) If you can stomach his political stance, or even, God forbid, uphold them, then you've got yourself a catch. He's an affectionate sweetheart, a dork complete with corny but funny jokes, an animal lover (he's so good to Pumpkin), an ambitiously hard worker, a knowledgeable history buff (these photos were taken while he was answering my query of why such anti-Semitic views exist--a daunting question to undertake!), an expert with computers, and a caring and helpful friend. He speaks fluent Russian, writes extremely well, talks to his grandmothers on a nearly daily basis, and has a degree from UCSC in Islamic History. He's awesome...just not the one for me. If anyone's interested, holla and I will hook it up!

Haha, in that last pic, Pumpkin did a lick and run. Man, so I guess I'm pretty much single right now! It feels...nice? Look, don't expect eloquence and profundity from a post written at 2am after a somewhat emotionally draining event. I guess I made it sound all breezy, but I really had to muster up a lot of courage to finally blurt out my feelings. Break-ups are never easy, but this one was the smoothest one ever. What a relief! Happy Cinco de Mayo! I'm freeeeeeeeeee!!