13.7.6

I don't know how to thrift properly. The last time I went to Goodwill was in June, and I did come home with a couple ugly/cool sweaters. As I looked at them, my imagination went wild with possibilities. But then I got home, put them in my drawer...and never brought them out. The farthest I got to actually wearing them was just thinking about wearing them. Like I said, the sweaters were pretty atrocious; they were candy bright, multicolored, and constructed with a carpet-like fabric. I used to have a "crazy" streak in my dressing, back in high school. I'm not sure where that part of me went. I'll go shopping now and see an amazingly crazy skirt that I know would be so cool, and I know I would look sickeningly cool in said skirt. But I don't buy it.

I wish I knew what happened.

I'm stuck on skinny jeans, sweaters from J.Crew, and flats.

I WISH I could thrift better, because Goodwill has half off the first Saturday of every month. What a steal.

(fashiongonerogue)

Hello, hello again.

For my 23rd birthday, my dad took me to see Alison Krauss and Union Station last night. Say what you will about bluegrass/folk music, but Alison and her band are extremely talented. They are definitely some of the most gifted musicians I've seen in concert. Just on the basis of Alison's voice, I'm inclined to believe that she's some weird hybrid alien-fairy mix, some creature not from this world.



I'm glad I went to the concert, because until last night, I'd forgotten how much I LOVE THE DOBRO. The dobro is one of the coolest instruments around.



Anyway, did ya'll look at the pictures from the Prada show? I seriously can't get over Miuccia. She designs really ugly things sometimes (like below), but you just know everyone's going to buy it somehow, either directly from Prada or from H&M or Forever 21 who'll surely knock it off. Somehow she makes ugly cool, and I have no idea how. Is it because she's become known as the ugly-chic designer? Because editors like her? I am just not sure.

A few inconsequential things

So can I tell you something?

I love having boobs. I was looking at her and despite that she always looks so awesome, I am reminded that I enjoy having boobs.

I love being single. It's wonderful to not be worried about how I'm affecting someone else. Why didn't I remember that I loved being single when I wasn't single?

I almost got a credit card to Nordstrom, but I decided against spending $400 on a pair of $200 shoes. I think I can be patient and just wait until I can afford expensive items.

Am I a "bad" woman for not wanting a diamond engagement ring? I'd be truly happy with a $12 antique ring. In fact, I'd be over the moon. Why not save the $2000 and put it towards a sweet couch instead?

I wore lipstick for the first time in a looooong while the other night. I kind of felt like the Joker, my lips were so red. And I kept imagining that it had gotten slathered all over my chin and cheeks.

 My hair's getting stupid. I want to get it cut like this.

(via fashiongonerogue)

#97

I feel like this right now:

 

Just yesterday, I was driving from work, and I happened to get lost (what, I still haven't learned this city yet, and I have absolutely no sense of direction). On my roundabout way to a friend's house, the scenery I saw inspired me. I wanted to get out and take pictures. I wanted to call up my friend's sister and let her know that I wanted to play dress up and have her take awesome pictures of me playing dress up. I mention this, because it's a good sign my creativity is awakening again.

I don't particularly enjoy my creative droughts. I start to feel extremely indifferent, and usually I end up feeling stuck, so much so where I desperately want to run away and start anew.

Strange thing is, there isn't even a slight smile on my face at the moment, but my heart feels so alive.

(photo via fashiongonerogue)

Scatter-brained

I was listening to this slightly sappy song when my dad just texted me. And I thought, "I haven't prayed for you in, like, two months." I try to pray nightly, but I usually end up falling asleep in the middle of it. Still, I let God know about the people I love, the people I for whom I care, and eventually myself (that's not due to selflessness. I have a hard time praying for myself, 'cause usually I'm asking forgiveness for something, but I don't know what I've done wrong. I'm confused about what sins are, anyway, besides the really obvious lying, stealing, murdering acts. Maybe I am praying for my sins? I'm not sure. I ask for help about the things I'm dumb about). Anyway, I don't know. I don't know anything about God. I'm not being sarcastic.

MMMKAY, religious rant over. Now on to third grade writing.

I got three necklaces this weekend, and a bright blue Michael Kors tote. I love it. I got it at TJ Maxx. The necklaces I got were: a bottle of fairy dust that had a fairy dust in the bottle (a friend asked me if I was a proud coke dealer. I don't think cocaine is sparkly, though?), a silver cross, and a 90s bracelet (i.e. a bracelet from the 90s). 

Oh yeah, I did go see Kaskade in Chicago two weekends ago. Yes, that ended up happening. It was fun, but it was SUPER DUPER loud. Like, I had to leave at 1 a.m. because I thought my ear drums were getting ready to burst. Okay, so I could've stayed and risked it, but I was tired and there were so many people and so much sweatiness.

Also, I've been MIA in the blogosphere for a while (besides random posts from me and a few comments on other blogs). I'm bored with it. I'm can talk and talk and talk all I want, but why? Why am I talking? This is not a self-deprecating, "omg, why? Is anyone even listening to me?!?!?" This is a legit "really, Erin, why are you talking?" "'Cause I've got opinions that need to be heard!!!!" That's really what I say but not really what I mean.

Lao-Tzu in The Tao Te Ching says to not talk, e.g. here #2: "Therefore the Master acts without doing anything and teaches without saying anything." (italics mine)

So I may or may not be talking for a while. I've yet to decide.

And here's a friendly lion from a zoo in Amsterdam in 2009. 

Boxes

"You feel like you are in a box that is unrecognizable in many ways. It'd be a good box if you could see it more clearly, and you would know what to freaking DO," said my friend Laura.

(via fashiongonerogue)

I don't know where this blog is going or what it's doing. It doesn't matter.

Note: Complete and possibly utter useless self-analysis follows.

My schema when it comes to people is that they are puzzles. I meet someone, and if I find him mildly interesting, I want to figure him out. This rule generally applies to men. What makes him tick? What and who does he love? Is he passionate? What are his vulnerabilities? Why does he act the way he does? What caused him to have such-and-such complex?

Basically, I reduce people to a puzzle to be solved and end up treating them like a clinician, asking question after question in order to diagnose the "problem." When I figure out the problem, I want to fix it. It's like this when anyone comes to me for advice (most of the time the person only wants me to listen, but somehow I miss that memo) — friends, family, lovers, strangers, etc. My want to fix people also comes from a desire to control others. If I can't control myself, specifically my emotions, then I need to control something else. Controlling my eating habits doesn't work, but it must in some way if I still attempt to. Controlling others doesn't work, either. It rips relationships apart.

This is a horrible way to treat people. People have complex emotions, and oftentimes they don't even understand them. These feelings can't necessarily be reduced into smaller pieces that are able to fit neatly into a larger whole. A whole (person) cannot be reduced to the sum of its parts (emotions, judgments, personality, intellect).

I don't like being treated like a case study. I sincerely apologize to anyone I've ever done this to...which is basically everyone I've ever met.

This song has relevance to the topic (I am the verse, you are the chorus):



I'm done trying to change anyone.