Stir Crazy

No, not this rad movie.

So, in case you haven't noticed, I have had a lot more time on my hands.  If you follow me in any way, you'll note my online presence has been pretty prevalent lately, as opposed to former months.  The reason is simple: I AM BORED OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND.  

I mean, don't get me wrong, it's been awesome to catch up on things, help friends in need, be able to actually ANSWER comments on the blog from my computer, instead of the sweaty confinements of the employee restroom, but in all fairness, I honestly do not know what to do with myself half the time.

I was unaware my transfer would take so long to "process" so, it has left me with something I am very unfamiliar with: free time, alone.  To add to the fun, I am also in a strange city, by myself all day until John gets home.  Trust me, some areas of this town would not appreciate a tattooed white girl wearing a dress covered in seahorses, prancing through their neighborhood with a DSLR.  So, I stay pretty close to home.  Luckily I have ONE FRIEND who lives in Long Beach.  She doesn't know it yet, but I am going to be bugging the shit out of her.  Sorry Jen. 

I start my orientation on Saturday.  Until then, I have some pretty exciting stuff lined up.  Today I am going to go to the doctor to renew my meds (riveting, I know) and then (I know, this is hard to type) return the fox dress to ModCloth via post.  Everyone's been dying for me to wear it, and I have to be honest.  The eyelet in the front fits EXACTLY over Morrissey's face on my chest.  It looks RIDICULOUS.  Plus, the fit is a bit strange, like wearing a loose cape on top and a pencil skirt on the bottom.  That could also be my sexy beer gut, but who knows.  There will be other fox dresses.  This one is sadly, not for me.

Why don't I clean something?  Oh HELL NO.  I did enough cleaning for twelve people over the past six months and I am not going to spend this forced "vacation" cleaning something.  I would unpack our boxes, but we threw away our bookshelf, so...we have no where to put anything.  Yes, my budget is so tight right now I cannot go to IKEA and get a Durdlestaf or whatever, so shut-up.

Painting sounds fun, but that costs money as well, and with me not bringing in cash everyday, it's been strange having to budget so close to the lines.  I also have an intense feeling of worthlessness, as I have pretty much worked everyday since I was fifteen, so this is really weird.  I don't think it's a good idea I make any color choices while I feel like a total loser, as this place will probably end up looking like my room in tenth grade.

I have learned a few things about myself, and they are not very entertaining.  

One: I think I have ADD.  I am simultaneously watching the Simpsons on HULU while looking on Facebook, and then I also have a movie or let's be honest here, GIRLS episodes rolling on the DVD.  If I can, I will check IG during all this, see a necklace I like and then add it to my favorites on Etsy.  I need help.

Two: I can't stop sleeping.  I don't know if I am tired (I haven't DONE anything) or just relieved, stressed, or depressed.  All I know is, I can sleep like a mofo now, as opposed to before when I was up with the sun and could never relax enough to sleep.  John likes to joke, "Just go to sleep like I know you want to."  It's 10 pm.  WTF. 

Three: I am aware of my surroundings and they include (but are not limited to): mobile soft serve ice-cream trucks (WIN), huge churches handing out food to homeless (creepy when walking the dogs, sorry), a mixture of rad, restored homes and well...I saw two guys smoking a joint on their front porch yesterday.  I didn't know whether to go inside or go make friends.   Being in a new city and knowing NO ONE is so strange after living in one place for so long and getting sick of running into people at Target that you know from work.

Four: My hopes of sleeping past 7 am have quickly been dashed by my upstairs neighbor who apparently conducts a brick toss every night in his apartment, followed by the morning's contest of stomping.  Thanks dude.  My dogs bark at literally every noise, and usually it's right in John's ear, so he's STOKED.

Five: No matter what I do, the fleas are winning.  Our apartment/building is older, and apparently there were some feral cats residing underneath it previously (would have been good to know earlier, thanks).  This led to a bit of a flea infestation, of which the premises has been sprayed for.  I continue the battle from within, spraying crap everywhere, washing the dogs like fourteen times a day, putting drops on my cat that make her look like a crust punk, scratching my ankles until only scars remain, you know, fun stuff like that.  I think that with one more laundry purge and a few flea collars and I've got this! Kill 'em all!

Finally, I've begun my crochet lessons from Stephie's Corner, and I am kicking ass.  However, I have stopped midway through because I also am watching Whisker Wars and The Dark Knight simultaneously.  It might get weird today when I have to leave the house.

             

Hesitation Marks

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE the new Nine Inch Nails album, "Hesitation Marks."  I had grown, over time, to expect that Trent (like myself) was aging gracefully, and you know...writing scores for movies and winning Grammys and not expecting him to make much more music under the Nine Inch Nails banner.  

I was extremely disappointed with the prior albums, "With Teeth" was weak at best, and whatever that last thing was with the twenty eight million tracks of noise was awful.  Then, he forms a band with his wife.  Okay, I give up.

Then, this happened.  And by this, I mean my own mother was telling me she LIKED the score from Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and wasn't this guy someone I liked?  Uh, mom...you grounded me for an ENTIRE SUMMER for sneaking out and going to their concert.  Yes, this is someone I love.  You hate this person.  You told me both Pretty Hate Machine and Broken were NEVER to be played in the house again.  (Something about her being offended by me yelling "FIST FUCK!" probably did it.)  

So, needless to say, I put old Trent up on the shelf with the rest of the bands that I used to LIVE for (see Weezer, Superdrag, Hot Hot Heat) that basically fell off and started making music I either couldn't understand, or (god forbid) became liked by my parents.  I've recently lost Alabama Shakes to them, and I'm not happy about it.  Mumford and Sons you can have but...

This is what I wanted.

This is what I saw.

Okay, so enter my magical John, who knows EVERYTHING about music, telling me that NIN has a new album.  I'm like, "So?  Is it going to be a bunch of noise tracks again because of Mr. I-Write-Scores?"  John shut me up quick.  He played the streaming audio from Pitchfork as well as the tracks that were becoming available on their website.  Hell, Trent streamed the ENTIRE ALBUM for you, if you were willing to listen.  

I died.  I felt like I was thirteen again, drinking a Zima in the back of Brooke's car.  I could not believe the dance-ability, the beats, the lyrics...I thought, "How could I have ever doubted you?"  I felt like I got my angry, teeth-grinding, mud-slinging, black-mesh-wearing, torn-black-everything boyfriend back.

Even John, who was not a diehard NIN nerd like I am, cannot stop listening to the record.  He quotes it regularly, and it is on repeat here in the house.  I love the whole journey this one man band has taken me on, and I am stoked that it's not over or geriatric in nature.  It's as young and pissed off as it ever was.  Thank you, Trent.

Now, I will brave the nightmare that is Ticketmaster and see how much the cheapest/furthest-away-from-chaotic-slam-dancers seats to the tour are.  They are coming to the Staples Center in November and I am too old for that moshing shit. 

Currently Coveting

Brown Bag Vintage

Gnome Enterprises

The Nautical Owl

The Stranger Bird

NY Hop

Okay, so I have had a little bit of free time lately, and with funds running short, it seems like everywhere I turn I see something I want to buy.  I hate that!  I am looking forward to getting my new work schedule, that way I can "schedule" a few purchases for our place, and of course, me.  

My animal fetish seems to know no bounds lately, and my latest fixation is rabbits.  I had one when I was younger, her name was Lupin.  She was mean as a snake.  We built her this elaborate cage, which of course she escaped from, never to be seen again.  Basically, that's the G-Rated version of the story.  That being said (sorry for the Old Yeller moment), I have always wanted to get another rabbit as a pet.  Do not tell John.  Right now I will simply pacify my bunny needs by buying everything that has a rabbit on it.  I'm on one for NY Hop, a sister store of another Etsy shop I love, NY Illustration.  

My dear friend and awesome shop-owner of The Stranger Bird, Jenny, is having a bit of a "car crisis" at the moment, and she is doing something super awesome to raise funds (also making me want to spend even MORE money in her shop), she is offering 35% off with the code CAR35 and if you share this information, she will give you a SPECIAL 50% OFF CODE.  What the AWESOME?!?!  Thanks Jenny!  With such impeccable deals and pieces, that car will be fixed in no time.  I picked just a FEW of my favorites, but with her shop, it's always hard to choose.

It's no secret that The Nautical Owl and I are Eskimo sisters, and her art is absolutely beautiful.  I have yet to see someone do a wood-burned carving of Wilfred, have you?  Her shop, as well as her blog, are mainstays in my life.  After she said she was taking a break from social media yesterday, I emailed and then texted her.  Yes, I am an idiot.  Sorry Megan!

My dress addiction is something that will never be cured, but after the move I realized how few good t-shirts I have left after the "Great Cutting Incident of the Year 2000" where I decided my AMAZING collection of vintage tees all needed to have the neck cut out of them.  It looked so hot on my friend Insu, so I assumed it would look amazing on me.  Turns out, the "boatneck and braless" look was not one that stayed.  Henceforth, I will be visiting Gnome Enterprises for all future t-shirt needs, primarily because they are rad, and also because I am never cutting another shirt again.  These ones are too beautiful/rad to do so, so it won't be hard.

Finally, we all know I am ALWAYS on the lookout for new plus-size vintage stores, whether they be online or not.  I stumbled upon the selection at Brown Bag Vintage and it blew my mind.  Not only do they have an awesome selection for regular sizes, their plus-size section is hearty and beyond cute.  It was hard for me not to favorite everything.

I am hoping to step out today and snap a few pictures and give y'all a little sneak peek into my life lately.  I'll give you a preview: it's going to be a lot of pictures of DVDs and weird churches.

 

No Shirt, No Shoes, No Kids

Wow, that looks SO FUN!

I don't have kids, this you all know.  I decided this year, after many years of debate and some mind-changing epiphanies, I came to one final conclusion: I am not having any.  This seems to be a shock to a lot of people, and one hundred percent of them are parents.  They are always telling me things like: "Oh, you'll feel different when it's yours," or my favorite, "You have plenty of time to change your mind!"

I am not changing my mind, and how would it be different if the child was mine, as opposed to my friend's baby?  What? Why, because I made this crying, stinky mess it means I am going to love it more?  Nope.  I think what I am trying to say is, I have no interest in being a parent.  Some would call this "selfish" or again, one of my many favorite reactions: "Don't you want to use the gifts given to us as women?"

Okay let's talk about said "gifts" here for a second.  We get periods, pay twice as much for clothes, grow random chin hairs, are surrounded by images that may give us low self-esteem, or poor body images, we do the same work for less pay, supposedly men "age better" and we also have to work twice as hard to prove ourselves at ANY task.  

I saw yesterday on Instagram where a guy had left a comment on someones picture saying: "Yeah man, it's such a turn-off when a girl says she's into football."  And that would be because...she has her own interests outside baking and darning socks?  Good luck buddy.  I know there's the perfect wife for you out there who hates sports and just wants to bear your endless moronic children, chained to the stove, barefoot. Early congratulations to you!

By no means am I anti-children.  I am just not one of those girls who coos over babies, who was a babysitter all her life, who can muster that sing-song voice when talking to a youngster, or get down on one knee and call someone "princess" or "little man".  I hate those stickers with the family breakdown on the rear window.  I hate personalized license plates like LVMYKID or RYSMOM.  Please get a life.  Part of the reason I love my new job: there will be very FEW if ANY kids in my restaurant.  I just do not know how to deal with them.

I held a baby ONE TIME.  It was because my friend Pam LITERALLY tossed her child into my arms, and for a split second I had no idea what to do.  So, according to her, I caught her daughter "like a football, and then proceeded to carry her like a puppy."  Well?  You threw your kid at me.  What the hell else am I supposed to do?

I do find kids cute, but in small doses.  If your IG feed is nothing but your kid, either standing there (riveting), smiling (no one does that), or the old-oh look he walked over to the corner, let's take another picture, oh look he turned around, let's take another picture!  Shit.  I get it okay, you think he's cute.  It is this same marvelous parent who allows their child to stay up until three in the morning, and then cannot come to work the next day because they are "exhausted" or my personal favorite, "my kid is sick."  Would that work if one of my dogs was sick?  "Sorry, I can't come in today, Piddle ate some old pizza on her walk this morning and now she has the squirts."  HELL NO.   

One of my favorite blogs, Life With Roozle, is basically about just that, life with an adorable child.  The best part of the blog (to me) is the fact that the photography of this beautiful girl is so well done, so poignant that she is part of the art she is photographed near, she is captured doing random things, she is gorgeous in her natural habitat, and the spontaneity of the photography makes me love this little bug.  See?  I'm not pure evil.

I think that perhaps it is a very responsible and intelligent decision I am making.  I am not going to run a marathon, so why sign up for a 5K?  I don't have to do something just because everyone else is, or because society places this pressure on we early thirties ladies, telling us time is running out to make those babies!  I just don't think I have the skills to be a parent.  I don't have the skills to be a doctor either, that's why I'm not one.

In my life, and in my line of work, I have seen a lot of pain through the eyes of kids.  Whether it be an argument at the table, something that was said to a child, or just my co-worker's tales of this dad, or that partner or boyfriend and sometimes, girlfriends and moms too.  You need a license to drive a car, own a dog, basically everything in this whole world requires some kind of clearance before proceeding.  Maybe it is more responsible to recognize that I could serve youth better as a volunteer, or a Big Sister, or a counselor?  I see a lot of people making babies, and most of them can't even tie their own shoes.  

I don't want any of my "mom" friends to take this the wrong way.  I love you guys, and I especially love the way my pal Jess Elaine takes pictures of her little dudes.  They are usually wearing underwear on their heads and that entertains me.  I just don't have that feeling, that urge to be a mother.  I just realize I am not equipped, and it is not something that I see in my future.  

I have grown up with TWO excellent sets of role models in this department.  I watched my godmother travel the world in style, as a tour-guide and with her fantastic husband, as tourists.  I see them enjoying their lives, and being very active participants in the lives of their nieces and nephews and so on.  I think if you were to ask, they are pretty damn fulfilled.     

It was my cousin, Jan, who once said something to me in a car ride somewhere in the suburbs of Philadelphia, that has stuck with me forever.  I was asking her about her students (she is a Special Education teacher) and so on, and I wondered if any of her students' parents ever asked her if she had any children of her own.  She and her husband had elected not to have children many years prior.  She told me she gets that question a lot, especially from new parents or strangers they meet in their travels (oh, I think they have been to AT LEAST every continent), and she told me she had developed the perfect answer.

"Vic and I are child-free by choice," she said.  Well, so am I.