Jazzy Shoe Game



But first, coffee

With my morning coffee, I sit here, behind this screen, doing something awfully familiar ... wondering! I feel like the greatest of minds wonder, not to say my quality of wonders are even remotely in the same playing field of the greatest, but to wonder is absolutely critical to evolution (in my opinion). In order to learn, one must be curious. In order to receive answers, one must come up with questions. Here are a few of my wonders on this sunny California morning:

I wonder why it takes an unfortunate event or catastrophe to bring us into (clearer) focus with our lives. It's almost like we are unaware that from the moment we are born we are only dying and so is everyone and (nearly) everything around us. Why wait until something we already know could/will happen, to set our intentions/labors/goals back on the "right track?"

I wonder if hypocrites realize their title, not publicly, but privately. In that case, I wonder if anyone realizes their real attributes. I wonder if this wonder is too subjective.

I wonder how much of the unknown I miss out on each day; whether it's because I choose one activity over the other or because I take route A to work as opposed to route B, so on and so forth. What this unknown could consist of is just too fascinating not to wonder about.

I wonder why I'm yet to find something that lasts semi-forever or stays in the same shape, quality, and consistency of its first day. Everyone/thing I've ever met and/or touched has depreciated. At least I've always found a cause why it has. You should know, I don't rule out the smallest of small explanations.

I wonder why not enough people appreciate the mad people in this world. Before I go any further, I will clarify that by "mad" I do not mean to say a category of people who inflict any type of physical pain on any living organisms. Why do we put so much faith in large groups of numbers? Why do we always automatically feel comfortable trusting the majority? In most cases (and in my opinion), I sense the majority is just a good herd of sheep that has been conveniently brain washed by a higher (usually more intelligent) person or situation.

Don't Ask Me About Stolen Rum

 

some GREAT advice



I eat images for breakfast ...

 



Another fictional story to share when I'm old

... he wasn't anything I was looking for. At first I didn't even notice him. He had asked family and friends about me many times over a span of three years, but my eyes had never so much as glanced in his direction. It's quite funny when you think about it. The one person who has altered my entire existence in a relatively short amount of time is the same person that I once effortlessly ignored.

It started off too good to be true, but I never once felt that type of fear you experience when you see or hear about something that is in fact "too good to be true." Instead I quickly found myself falling, the way you do for a really bad infomercial in the middle of the night. Only this time the only product I was falling for were his lies. At once I disregarded everything I had learned in life, including everything I knew about myself.

The days turned into weeks and the weeks into months and I find myself, here, nearly a year later and I can't quite explain to myself or others what happened. Funny thing is, the story is quite simple ... boy lies to girl, girl breaks up with boy. Except, this simple story is not so simple. I have so many of his secrets bottled up inside me that it pains me knowing them. Secrets that most girls who were mistreated would be screaming and sharing with the world, yet, here I am taking them on as if they were my own shameful acts of past discretion.

What bothers me most is that my innocence was robbed by him. My standards were lowered to accommodate the love that was growing for him at exponential speeds. It bothers me that I am at a point in my life that I find myself looking at myself and knowing I'll never be the same person I once was. It bothers me that no one will ever quite grasp what it is that makes me want to forgive every one of his terrible actions against me with a simple, "I'm sorry, I need you." What bothers me is that I, myself cant quite grasp what almost makes me tolerate the thought of forgiving him. It bothers me that I lost track of time and don't know how I became the girl that I would always file under "needs rescuing."

We've all been here in some shape, size or form. We've all lived to remember it and sense it when it's near again. We've all lived past it in some shape, size or form. The only variation among broken hearts is the amount of time we allot to the matter. I refuse to accommodate him any longer than I have.

Now despite all that I've been through in the last year, I still opt to believe in love. I don't mind that people both bias and unbiased, both friends and strangers have told me that I can do better. Nor does it bother me that he was the first man in my life that I loved more than he loved me. None of that bothers me. Quite frankly, I would've thought it would, but it inexplicably does not.

My options are endless, each and every one of them better than him, but my wants are so different since him, so absolutely different that I forget what he has done to me (and continues to do to me). It's such a damn shame that he was an okay lover and an expert liar.

My Painful Joy

I'm always intrigued by questions that I know I'll never have answers to. Odd, you think? Yes. Why, you ask? I don't wish to know, remember I'm intrigued by questions I know I'll never have answers to.

Where am I going with this ... one word & one person: Haifiz

 

My favorites, pick up The Gift for more brain food

 

 

 



Nasty Gals Do It Better

I know all my loyal fashionistas know about nastygal.com and if you don't you may messenger me thank you cards (with gummy bears attached) at your earliest convenience. Shopping from their selection over the past couple years has been a treat, clearly their buyer has always been one that I've shared shockingly similar tastes with. Rarely have I (or would I) come across a piece that I found revolting. So it is with great pleasure to see a successful woman who started off with an eBay store, a mere six years ago, now launch her own line this fall. I had the honor of wearing one of the first pieces that came directly from the NastyGal collection.

 

So with that being said, I am now a firm believer that nasty gals do (in fact) do it better!

 



My wish to you ...

A Daughter's Note to her Mother: My wish to my mom on this Mother's Day is that she realize that my love for her wasn't created when she gave me life like most scientists like to suggest, nor was it when she was there for me at every turn .. nope I refuse to believe it was any of that monumental stuff. As far as I'm concerned, all the Hallmark cards have it wrong. My wish to the woman who is responsibe for every breath I take is for her to understand it was that cozy house, the delicious meals, the smirky laughs, warm hugs, nonjudgmental reactions and tough discipline that made me fall in love with her. It's easy to give birth, it's also easy to plot yourself at a person's disposal. The content of a person runs deep in the smallest of reactions and gestures that we often look past, just as often as we probably look past the amount of gratitude we owe our mothers. And, so, with that being said my wish to my mom is that she understands that I not only think of her once a year when May flowers are blooming, but with every little something she does for me, every big day of my life.

We all have check lists some longer than others …

I want …


someone who makes me look at things from a different perspective


someone who magically makes my coffee taste better when they're sitting next to me

someone who holds my hand so tight it begins to pulse


someone who's mother adores me


someone who adores his mother


someone who writes me notes instead of buying me gifts


someone who picks my nose


someone who shares his deepest darkest secrets with me


someone who doesn't make me wait when we're going out


someone who finds me sexier in a pony tail than all dolled up


someone who would be willing to live in a shoe box with me if life got tough


someone who compares me to no other women in this world


someone who works hard during the day so he can take me out during the evening


someone who makes me laugh when I'm mad


someone who thinks we're the coolest thing since kool aid


someone who makes plans with me not for me


someone who gives me piggy back rides


someone who is willing to dress up with me on Halloween, even when he's 78


someone who gives me space


someone who thinks about me when picking what flavor gum to buy


someone who isn't afraid to show the world how much he loves me


someone who gives freakishly good foot massages


someone who likes to take bubble baths even when I use my utmost girlish bath soaps


someone who tells me the truth despite the consequences


someone who makes other girls jealous of his girl


someone who shares his childhood memories with me


someone who has a life of his own outside of the one we share together


someone who makes it his sole purpose in life to make me smile


someone who brings the universe back from destruction by feeding me ice cream


someone who treats my family like his own


someone who challenges my mind


someone who is intelligent enough to know how to speak and even more intelligent to know when to stop


someone who can carry my shopping bags


someone who pulls my hair


someone who hides notes in my starbucks cup


someone who wants to go half with me on a baby girl


someone who can teach me new things


someone who doesn't make me question myself


someone who takes me out of my comfort zone


someone who doesn't eat red gummy bears because he knows it's my favorite


someone who has a past that doesn't affect his future


someone who doesn't come from money


someone who has suffered life's simple miseries


someone who is destined to do ordinary things with me in extraordinary ways! 

I'm pathetically romantic ...



We're All Related, Just Not By Blood

Whenever I find a NOUN (person, place or thing) I can relate to, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. In today's case I came tumbling on "UNDER THE COVERS" a blog on tumblr. Please check out her absolutely raw, real, romantic, ruthless, ready for your eyes posts.

http://-piccadilly.tumblr.com/post/4409378014

Oh and here are a few of my favorites



One Must(ache) Stay Forever Young

I think I'll always be that girl (ahem, hag) who'll celebrate her birthday at 98 with a very age inappropriate theme!

Thanks to Frostedcandy.com I was able to chime my 27th in with a blast of fun, after all you MUST(ache) stay FOREVER YOUNG <3

Let's Melt The Sun Together

I think the only place a person should live is one where there is a quick, convenient, close getaway nearby! Here in Los Angeles, we are blessed to have more than just one, i.e. Santa Barbara, San Diego and of course my favorite Palm Springs.

That's where my tush will be frying this weekend!

Happy Almost Summer

Avoid The Bullshit

In a world where we're all fighting for the same thing, we sure know how to go against one another and deviate from our common goal. In my 27 years of existence I've learned ONE thing (if nothing else) and that is we're all aiming to be happy. In all that I've experienced and all the innocence that has been robbed of me over the years, this is the one fact that has remained true even at the most ugliest of times.

So I've decided and I hope others will join me in avoiding all the bullshit that gets in the way of our simple, yet not so simple goal. Smile because when all else around you is crumbling, you'll know a secret most will never understand ... happiness can not be earned, owned, consumed or traveled to: it's not a job promotion, car, drug or destination. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace and gratitude. Now tell me aren't you happier?

Words Don't Always Work

Sometimes you just feel like writing and you know there is so much you want to express, but you don't know how to tackle it. You even stop to wonder, "will anyone get it?" even if I write until the sun goes down and the moon rises, will anyone grasp what I'm feeling? Probably not, only because no one really can ever know how words transpire in another person's brain. I suppose you just have to write to feel those letters clicking under your fingers and knowing that somehow it is therapeutic to your soul and what it may or may not do for another person's soul isn't your motivation. What was the point of this? Absolutely nothing aside from the fact that I just felt like writing.

Throwback Thursday

Throwback Thursdays are so much fun, you take a look at your past and how far along you've come into your present, nothing bad can ever come from reflecting on some positive (and negative) decisions that have brought you to the splendid place in your life we call TODAY. So in the spirit of things, I thought we'd take a ride on my very exclusive time machine and reflect on current fashions inspired by past failures.

_buckle up_

90s