Wake and Bake and Shop

"Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months."

I woke up 104 b’glock this morning before the sun was even up, rolled a joint and made some tea. Put on the leggings and a big cozy sweater, grabbed the beanie and made sure I had another joint for the road. My girl friend picked me up at 7am to go downtown to the Los Angeles Convention Center.  Why the fuck were you up so early? (You may ask. I know I did, several times.) The only way you’ll ever see me up at 6am is because I’ve stayed up until then, I’m having sex, or… DRUMROLL PLEASE..

The Barney’s Warehouse Sale.

That’s right. That shit is serious. If you’ve never been, let me describe it for you. It’s a giant warehouse full of fantastically marked down couture like $3000 Nina Ricci and Dolce & Gabana dresses, amazing ready-to-wear like Mark Jacobs, Diane Von Furstenburg, and an array of the best shoes in the world like Louboutin , Blahnik, Prada and more. Women start lining up at the ass crack of dawn, grab trash bags and fight each other to the death for the latest Marni teeshirt. So basically it’s heaven on Earth. AND I WAS GOING THERE.

We battle rain and slush puddles and traffic, finally getting to the Convention Center at 7:30am only to find out that the Sale doesn’t even open until 10am. There wasn't anyone there but us. Oops! This was my fault, darling, so I’m so sorry! We made the best of it though, walking in the rain 5 blocks like true New Yorkers, and had a spot of breakfast at a landmark diner The Pantry Café.

“Oh fuck! They have biscuits and gravy here?!” I accidentally yelled loudly enough for the neighboring table to shoot me some nasty looks. I laughed and gleefully ordered the $4.35 gravy covered breakfast dish. Uhh.. Yum.

Later at the sale, I thought I was going to lose my mind.  Everywhere I looked there were sequins and feathers and silk! I just ran through the racks touching everything and dancing. And still nobody was there! I don’t know if it was the rain or the fact that the Sale has been open for a week, or maybe it’s because it changed location. For the first hour, it was just me and my friend! I knew that if I kept wishing on a star, someday that shit would come through. Did I mention that I smoked that other joint on the way back from the diner?

After that I had a rehearsal for acting class and then spent the evening watching So You Think You Can Dance reruns and eating cookies.

I think this might be the best day ever. And it’s weird… today I fully recognized the thought that I could be single. I could be alone and be okay. I know the things that make me happ. I don't need a boyfriend; I have weed and shopping. 


For more pictures from my Barney's adventure, check out my facebook page; for cookie eating footage, check out my youtube channel. :)

Happy Valentine's Day

  "I can resist everything except temptation"

I have a work friend. A real friend. A good friend. How do I describe this person in my life? My boyfriend, Mike, hates him. I adore him. He’s fun, I make him laugh, he likes to dance, he has no bedtime. He’s kind of the exact opposite of my boyfriend – including his stature. And even though I love the attention, he’s an unlikely candidate for a threat to my relationship. I can’t see myself ever dating him; besides that, I’m maintaining the idea that I’m in love with my boyfriend for now. His name is Travis. He has professed his love for me – dramatic, eh? – several times. To me, to mutual friends, to our managers at work, to the ever present, all important Facebook.  I ignore it. And by ignore it, I mean that I dress a little sluttier at work, hang out with him every day and completely encourage flirting. And every day I know that what I’m doing is wrong. You know what drowns out guilt? Alcohol and weed.

Travis and I spent a day together a few afternoons ago. I picked him up in my brand new car. He hadn’t seen it yet and I was so excited to show it off. He had a couple of errands to run; in truth, I had no idea this day was going to turn out the way it did. It wasn’t planned.  But I should’ve realized at some point what I was getting into and saved myself.  As soon as Travis gets into the car, three things happen. First he gives me a gift – incense and flowers, for Valentine’s Day, of course. Second, he mentions that he has to meet up with his dad to get some money for school. I haven’t met his father yet. I have no interest in meeting his father. What was Mike going to say about this? I instantly decided that Mike was going to say absolutely nothing about it because he was never going to find out. Which brings me to number three, we light a joint. Don't forget what kills guilt. With Travis in my car and no other options at the moment, I take him to meet his father. The three of us have coffee together in the middle of a weekday afternoon. What am I doing? I knew I shouldn’t be there; but I also knew I was having a good time. And all I wanted in the world that day was to spend some time lying in the sun and playing in the surf with my close friend. If I had to meet his parents first, then I guess that’s what we were doing. But, this small digression ended up taking a lot longer than expected. By then it was late in the day. We had a mutual friend already at the beach. But by the time we got there, she had given up on the heat and sun, trying to protect her delicate fair skin and freckles. So the three of us hit a bar and had an early dinner on the pier. Drunkenly we decided to get on the Ferris Wheel after that. There were giggles, picture taking, memories made. I forgot to check in with my boyfriend. I was certain he had to work until about 7pm that day. I’d surely beat him home. Travis and I took Cheryl home. We smoked a bowl with her and her roommate. There was wine, there was more giggling, and there was an arm around my shoulder. Shit. It was suddenly after 7pm. Mike would be home any minute if he weren’t already.  I rush Travis home, completely forget about the Valentine’s gift he had given me and run inside my apartment.

Mike is in the kitchen, there is no music on, no television, no laptop propped up on the kitchen counter playing the latest episode of 30 Rock while he does chores. Silence in the house except for running water. Too late. I was busted. Mike had actually gotten off work early to come home and see me. He had midterms all that week and he wanted to squeeze in some precious hours of quality time before he had to buckle down. He wanted to take me to dinner. I had already eaten and on top of that was a little tipsy.  I laid it all out on the table – all of it except for the flirtation and the coffee date with his father and the Ferris Wheel – and when he found out who I had spent the whole day with, he was livid. That time he had wanted to spend with me, celebrating our relationship, squeezing in an early V-Day romantic evening, turned into time spent fighting and crying and yelling and him driving off furiously. He didn’t make it far. He stopped halfway down the street, threw the car in reverse and stormed back in the door to throw Travis’ gift in my face.

So Happy Valentine’s Day, all you lovers out there. I hope you’re fairing better than me.  If you have any advice on how to fix this, by all means, let me know. I’m clearly making terrible decisions on my own and could really use some guidance.