Our Last Night

And if the sun comes up, if the sun comes up, if the sun comes up and I still don't wanna stagger home
Then it's the memory of our betters
that are keeping us on our feet.

graduation day

It's official, I am Master... of fashion that is!

A Simple Question

My hair... blond or brown?

I can't decide, but come Friday something is happening to it.

Behold the Power of the Bra

I just read online that according to a poll conducted by the British dept. store Debenhams, the Wonderbra, and all push-up bras, are the greatest fashion invention ever.

It actually beat out the mini skirt and bootcut jeans! And better yet, the Debenhams' spokesperson called the push-up bra a "weapon for millions of women across the world."

Hahaha, more like a weapon of mass disappointment when the guy realizes it was all just smoke and mirrors!

I Really Did Miss Starbucks

crowls: think this is 98% cause you moved to Italy: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=88650776&ft=1&f=1003

me: yes it is! they should be thrilled to know i arrive in a week

crowls: We shall have your welcome home party in starbucks.

me: how fun would that be! with little midgets passing around fraps

crowls: ha! love it.

Seeing Green

Outrageous
When I move my body Outrageous
When I'm at a party
Outrageous
In my sexy jeans
Outrageous
When I'm on the scene
Outrageous

Saying Bye to Grandpa

When Grandpa’s cancer starting to get worse, everyone knew that he didn’t have a lot of time, including him. Usually the only time I talked to him on the phone was when he called my Dad’s house, or on holidays when I couldn’t be there. But it was around this time that I started calling him once or twice a week. He was always so cute, so honest, telling me if it is was a good day or a bad day.

On Monday, after one of our calls, I immediately phoned my dad. “I want to come home this weekend to see Grandpa.” And four days later I boarded a plane. I have a hard enough time saying goodbye to someone I won’t see for a few months. But saying goodbye to someone, I mean really saying goodbye, that is an even harder concept to grasp.

Saturday night my Dad, Linda and I met up with my aunt, uncle and three cousins for martinis. We laughed a lot, drank more and told silly stories. The next morning my cousin picked me up and we headed to see Grandpa. Groggy from the previous night, we stopped for Starbucks and in a way to kill just a little more time.

We went to his house and despite him being there and awake, we never got to see him. Two rooms away had never felt like such a distance. After an hour of sitting in the kitchen, waiting, we left. I got back to my Dad’s, took one look at him, and burst into tears, explaining that I never got to see Grandpa. That I never got to say goodbye. I had told him two days earlier on the phone that I as coming. I didn’t want him to think I lied.

Getting on a plane back to DC that afternoon, I had never felt such a heavy heart. It was saying goodbye to someone before they were gone. Being forced to let go when you didn’t have to. Being cheated out of hugging someone for the last time. Driving back to my apartment from the airport I let out a scream that came from a depth in my heart that I didn’t even know existed. I had never been that angry before and have never been that angry since.

Grandpa died about three weeks later, a few days after my sister’s wedding. That was his goal -- to make it to her wedding. And even though he wasn’t there in being, he was there in every other way.

I am not sure what made me remember this, the time of year maybe. But I do know what makes me remember Grandpa… the smell of cigars, Klondike ice cream bars, scratchy wool, and anything golf related. If I had one wish in life I would be to go back to that afternoon, march into Grandpa’s room and give him that hug goodbye that I never got to give.

What I've Been Bopping To

Saturday Night Dinners

Stay out super late tonightpicking apples, making pies
put a little something in our lemonade and take it with us
we’re half-awake in a fake empire

hahahaha...

it would be even more funny if I was married.

Decisions, Decisions

Some things never change. Like the feeling of sleeping in your old bed. Or the taste of nutter-butter sandwiches. Or, you know, my love of the blackberry.

But I am stumped. Do I want shiney silver or red? I am serious, I can't decide.

How I Know You Are Old

You know you are getting old when instead of sneaking a bottle of wine into the movies in your purse, it's a thermos of tea. Camomile... because if you drink caffeine past 3pm you won't sleep.

I Miss You THIS Much

Last night I decided to organize all of the pictures on my computer. Which led to looking through all of the pictures on my computer. Which led to remembering last spring. Which was WAY too much fun! As was winter, fall and summer... Today I am missing my friends terribley... it is cold and windy outside, I am over doing work and wish I could wrap myself up in hugs from all of you!

See you in a few weeks.

kisses,
me

Where is the Fashion?

Two reasons why DC isn't ready for its own fashion week:

Scene 6. Act 5: The Theater

Apparently nowhere in the city is safe. Including the theater, where last night the American girl had to swiftly duck down in an aisle to avoid yet another run-in with The Norwegian. But a girl can only pretend to rummage through her purse for so long and eventually she had to come up for air. Luckily he was seated off-center a few rows ahead, where she was out of sight and he was in perfect sight.

In the middle of the movie her friend leaned over and whispered in her ear, "He IS cute, especially in those glasses." The American girl just smiled and turned her attention to the action on the screen. Later, after the movie ended and the coast was clear, she turned to that same friend and said, "He IS cute. Too bad his personality doesn't match."

End scene.

Taking it Old School

(that was for you Homefry!)

Scene 6. Act 4: The Dive

Strolling through the sunday market in the park, the American girl suddenly dives behind a rack of clothes to avoid walking face-first into The Norwegian. As she peeks out through polyester and cheap denim to make sure he has passed, her friend stands and laughs. Sure they just saw each other on friday night, but a sunday encounter would be breaking all no-contact-during-daytime rules. Plus how would she introduce him when she still isn't sure of his actual name (she has taken to simply calling him Heathcliff, after the character from Wuthering Heights).

Bag Addictions

I was never crazy for Coach, really went ga-ga for Gucci or pleaded for Prada. But for some reason I am in a frenzy over Furla. Though there is no denying that the 50% off price tag doesn't hurt the cause!