i missed my blog

i haven't blogged in so long, i haven't had any internet access at this stupid apartment, also no phone or cable or any-fucking-thing. but last night, mysteriously, a wireless connection came back to me. i don't know where from but thank god, so i'm just gonna blog randomly.

the library here rocks. it's a block from my house, plus you can order books from like a million other libraries right on the internet and they will get sent there to pick up. they email you when it's in. is that the coolest thing ever? i read a hundred photography books plus the unbearable lightness of being which i love and of love and other demons which was kind of depressing and the russian debutante's handbook which is weird so far.

also i've read every fashion magazine on the stands because i've been flying every freakin' weekend somewhere. really. this had led to thinking about fall fashion and since i have no style right now, i've decided i want to look like christina aguliera, which is impossible since i spend 3 minutes tops getting ready everyday and her "vintage bombshell" hair alone would take me an hour. i did let me boyfried buy me a fancy lowcut black dress which i love and i don't even feel bad about it. i've been working! at his office and it's so busy. just until they hire someone next month and i go in late and leave early, but still it counts.

i'm making tiny cherry cheesecakes in heart-shaped tins today. i need to send my sister the suri cruise vanity fair. what a cute little baby. i still love katie holmes. i'm listening to a cover of enjoy the silence from copy, right? (i love that site; i love covers period; plus, i still love mazzy star!). i also saw robert weingarten's palette series gallery in dc last weekend and his art was really cool. i'm inspired again to start painting and hanging shit up.

style

the avalanche of banana republic ads in his magazine brought us to the topic of fall shopping. he can't wait for winter clothes. which reminded us that i have none. he suggested starting shopping. but over the last few shopping trips i opened his eyes to the serious lack of wearable clothes out there for a girl smack in her mid-20s. he walks into banana republic and the gap and walks out with a suitable vacation wardrobe. i go to each store in the center twice before finding a decent sundress and pair of sandals. then he asked me what style i am looking for. i've been thinking about this all day.

between the 20-pound weight loss that literally wiped out my wardrobe in 2005, living out of a duffle bag for 4 months after Katrina and then giving all of my shit away in my decreased desire for material goods, i realized i don't even have a style. i have a few jeans, tanks tops, t-shirts, and flip-flops. nothing special, nothing i love, nothing ever to wear. no style.

craving

i am going home to new orleans next week and i can't wait because i've been dying for some things that they just don't have up here in new england. lots of stuff i don't miss, but not included:

snow balls!!! and i do not mean snow cones, they are so different that they can't even be placed in the same category. i mean a wild strawberry snowball with condensed milk and whipped cream from pandora's. ooh, i wonder if it's even open... god, that would be horrible i have been craving this for so long! (long enough to use all these explanation points even though i utterly detest that.) i've eaten so many snowballs in my life that i just took them for granted. i'd never thought of taking a picture of a snowball, or having to explain it to someone. i mean, who doesn't know what a snow ball is? same for a muffaletta? aparently, most of the world doesn't. to think we lived a block from pandora's in new orleans. we just didn't know how lucky we were...

muffalettas! i am living downtown in one of the oldest italian fishing communities in the u.s. so i assumed the muffalettas here would be outrageous, right? Nope, they don't even have them. not one. apparently, it's a new orleans thing. i'm considering even buying some premade olive salad to try to bring back on the plane with me. i'm also considering introducing myself around the self-titled best italian sandwich shop down the street and begging them to add it to their menu. i'm sure it would be a hit.

raw oysters. they have oysters on the halfshell here, however eating them is reminiscent of accidentally gulping a mouthful of ocean water. and they don't include the saltines. i'm sure my dad would love to take me to acme anyway, and i may have some even though i kinda think it's still too early in the season for good ones. any will be better than the ones here.

that being said, it's so gorgeous here it's not even comparable to new orleans. and everywhere has a smell (and i don't mean like sulfur crossing the green bridge, or rotten seafood on canal, or vomit and piss on bourbon street), like lavender and really good food and the sea. and you can't get richie's cotton candy italian ice back home or farnham's clam chowder or lobster on a paper plate for that matter. oh my god, i just realized crawfish is out too.

something is wrong with us.

hangover

i thought i grew past the can't-stop-drinking-until- every-single-ounce-of-alcohol-in-the- apartment-is-gone phase, but apparently not. here is where i'm supposed to insert i just can't drink like i used to (because i am getting old), but really, i never could drink like this, i just did anyway when i was younger.

usually i am the beer slacker, but on occasion i outdrink jack two to one. i was sick all day, but after two bowls of ice cream sundaes i finally feel ok. usually i would have stayed in bed with the covers over my head the entire day, only coming up to down a sprite (ginger ale here) every so often, but today i actually got my ass out of bed and cleaned the entire apartment (including spot mopping and taking out trash), entertained the in-laws who dropped by unexpectedly, and even did a little grocery shopping (yes, walgreens counts). it wasn't fun.

in my defense, we were celebrating. plus, the kids are coming today and so no drinking for a week or so. i hate drinking anyway, it gives you a false sense of sexy. there was a time briefly last night when i had on nothing but a red pair of jack's underwear. i'm not sure why, i can't remember and i am certainly not going to ask him (i'm hopeful he can't remember either).

falling

will you love me if this is all i ever am.
i can't do it, i don't even know how to try.
you've given me everything, but i've taken nothing
except turquoise memories, a dream of rain
and cigarette smoke.

care bears

i'm totally falling in love with becky bloomwood, and i don't even have the dignity to be embarrassed. this girl is wonderful and i love her accent. i've read going on four sophie kinsella books this month, and, ya'll, i haven't finished one without laughing out loud. who cares if it's chick lit? i can relate to this girl.

i'm also starting a list of required watching for boyfriends, a see-how-bad-of-an-idea-cheating-is list:
1. fatal attraction. although to be honest, i haven't finished watching that, dong turned it off halfway through. the first half was scary though!
2. derailed. seen it? (maybe it should be number one, actually.)

i've also moved to paradise, but i shouldn't say too much, i don't want to jinx it. oh, and (finally) met his kids, the cuties, and that was the last big breath i was holding for this relationship. so things are pretty wonderful.

except that i'm visiting new orleans this week and remembering what living with my mother (my mum, becky would say) is like at it's very worse.

and i'm really feeling out of sorts on the whatamigoingtodowithmylife scene. i go home wednesday (home!) and instead of hanging out at the beach, i guess i need to figure some things out. i always make my lists, like:
-organized photos
-do taxes
-find a job i like
and my photos are organized and my taxes are done (except stupid h&rblock.com wouldn't let me send them online cause i'm married filing seperately. it makes no since to me at all that i was separated after 10 months of marriage and have had to file three years of taxes with the bastard. this country is screwed up.) so, it's time to figure out what to do with my life. why is this so scary? i'm almost 30. i'm smart. i have a college degree. why do i feel so incapable, so fake? i should have this shit figured out by now.

oh well, now i have to go watch care bears with my angel niece, since we are already on day three of five. i ache for this child when i'm away almost as much as i ache for jack when i'm here. but not quite. ooh, i think that's him calling. nevermind, it's my mother again.