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!