Thursday, October 30, 2014

Keep On Swingin'

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 Ring: Lucky Brand

"She sees them walking in a straight line. That's not really her style. And they all got the same heartbeat but hers is falling behind." - Echosmith

Well, here I am wearing the dress that everyone and their sister has blogged about. This dress is one popular little number and for good reason. It's both beautiful and comfortable. It also transitions well from Summer to Fall. Oh, and most importantly, it makes me want to break out into random twirls throughout the day while singing The Sound of Music.

I must admit, though. I'm kinda jealous of this little dress's ability to be loved by the masses. I've never been one of the cool kids. If you read the comments on my last blog post then you know that I managed to piss off one of the last people who comments regularly on this here old blog. Only I could get into an argument with a reader while averaging 2 posts a month and even less comments. To say I'm not a "people person" is a bit of an understatement.

For example, take my number of followers over there on the right hand side. I have had around 360 of them for the past 3 years. That number has not budged in 3 fucking years! It's crazy, especially when you consider that I still average about 400 hits a day even with my pitiful amount of postings. I know people are looking, but they sure as hell ain't following.

It's not like a want lots of followers for the more common reasons like monetization and free stuff. Although, I'm not gonna lie that sure would be nice. I've got a pair of free glasses coming my way just for being a blogger, and you would think I had won the damn lottery because I'm so excited about it. Free stuff is all well and good, but I have more humble and corny reasons for wishing that follower number would budge a little. Put simply, I just want to be loved. I mean, isn't that what we all want, really?

I look at my kids, and I see that their main motivation for doing anything is to get approval from me and their father. "Look at this, mommy!" is probably one of the most uttered phrases in my household. I don't hear it as much from my 12 year old these days, and I guess that's the way it's suppose to be. As we get older, we should require less and less validation from others, but I believe for most of us, no matter how old we get or how hard we try to suppress it, the need to be excepted never completely goes away.

I'm reminded of this as I get ready to host my very first Halloween Party. I've always wanted to throw a Halloween party but have been too scared of the inevitable rejection that comes with either no one showing up or no one enjoying it. This year, though, I said "Fuck it!", and invited 60 people to my house for a Halloween Bash. The party is tomorrow, and I have 4 confirmed guests. 4. I'm trying to look at the bright side... At least it's not 0, and my hostess duties will be much less stressful. However, it's hard not to get discouraged when you can't even bribe people to hang out with you with the promise of free booze.

I'm trying to tell myself, though, that it's not always about me. I need to stop taking things so personally. Most of these people have kids, and it is Halloween after all. Some have to work. Some probably just don't like me, and that's okay. Life isn't all about being popular. Quality over quantity is my motto where friends are concerned. The important thing is that I don't let my insecurities keep me in the shadows like they did for so long. I need to keep putting myself out into the world, and if the world doesn't appreciate what I have to give then that's the world's problem not mine.
                      
Cool Kids by Echosmith on Grooveshark

Monday, October 13, 2014

Bonnie's Closet: 4 Dresses For Sale

Bonnie's Closet: 4 Dresses For Sale: Anthropologie Flared Caraz Dress Size M - $45 shipped      Anthropologie  Henley Striped Day Dress Size M - $25 shipped Ant...

Tasseled Out


 
 
 
 

Booties: Ruche
 
"And we try in our own way to get better even if we’re alone." - Strand of Oaks
 
I'm back...with tassels on. It's been awhile, even for me. This has been the longest hiatus I've taken from the blog since I started it almost 5 years ago. 5 years. Damn. Where did the time go? It seems like just yesterday, I was defending myself against a hoard of angry skinny Anthro bitches and trading insults with the likes of the great and powerful GOMI. Ah, those were the days.

It wasn't a planned absence or even an intentional parting of ways. No, it was a slow, gradual decline into the abyss. I lost my zest for life, and I'm just now trying to find it again. Most days, I didn't want to get up in the morning much less blog. I think I've been living in denial about entering this next stage of my life. I mean, who the hell wants to be middle-aged? Who wants to be middle anything for that matter? Middle Class, Middle Child, Middle Finger - they're all bad news. The struggle is real or in my case, surreal.

I want to know just who in the fuck is this old, fat person I'm seeing in the mirror these days. What zest I lost for life, I gained it for food. And who is this moody, deep-voiced, pimply-faced, taller-than-me person who calls me mom and suddenly knows more than me? I don't like this strange new world I find myself in. It's a world full of a stresses - emotional, physical, financial, you name it. Through it all, though, the dresses must flow. By God, the dresses must flow.   

I resorted back to old shopping habits to ease the pain, but instead of easing the pain, it just made things worse. As a result, I have a huge stack of items to return to my favorite store, and the huge task of turning my life around. One of the dresses that made the cut is the one in this post. It's just the sort of dress I need in my life right now - easy, comfortable, and fun. A reminder to not think about things so much, to be comfortable in my own skin, and to find the fun in life again.
 

Shut In by Strand of Oaks on Grooveshark

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Bonnie's Closet: First Day of Fall Sale

Bonnie's Closet: First Day of Fall Sale:  Anthropologie Askew Ruffled Cardigan Size M - $25 Shipped     Anthropologie Ruched Basketry Dress Size M - $40 shipped Ant...

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Survivor

Earrings: Anthropologie Coined Gypsy Hoops
 

"We're built to last..." - The Wind and + The Wave 
 
I've been wanting to take photos with this tree growing out of the wall for years. I mean, how cool is it that some random tree is growing out of a wall in the middle of town, not to mention the metaphors I could write related to this sucker? However, it just hasn't been big enough to capture both me and the tree in a photo until now. I can't believe how much it's grown! It's even bearing some kind of fruit or nuts or something... See them hanging down way at the top in that last picture? Anybody know what kind of tree this is? I would love to know.
 
Anyway, this thing was a twig a few years back when Jerry and I first started taking photos. I figured it would die or be destroyed before it would ever get big enough for a photo. It seems like all our other photo spots are being destroyed or boarded up. The one thing this town had going for it was all the crusty, old buildings for photos. I mean, I get the ones that are being torn down because they are being rebuilt or are condemned, but I do not get putting a piece of plywood over a perfectly good door.
 
Given the city's new found affinity for plywood, I was glad we were able to find a new photo spot under this amazing tree. I say amazing because how the Hell does this tree survive, let alone thrive, in a fucking wall? I like to imagine there's some little gnomes or something living inside the building giving it magical fertilizer and water. More likely, there's some drug addicts in there throwing their old crack pipes and needles in it. Maybe I should call it the "Magical Crack Tree." There used to be a tree on my college campus that everyone called the "Cancer Tree" because it was full of cigarette butts...

Damn, I'm rambling. I meant to write this deep, metaphorical post about how life is like this tree, struggling to survive with the odds stacked against it, but I'm just not feeling it. Nope, I'm fresh out of hope today. I'm getting old, my kids are getting old, Robin Williams is dead... The world seems like a dark place.

I wish it didn't bother me so much that time keeps marching on and things keep changing. I suppose I should be glad that my kids are growing up, thriving, and becoming individuals, but instead it fills me with great sadness. Like, my heart physically hurts when I think about it. It seems so surreal that my baby making days are over, that yet another chapter in my life has come to close. I feel that I'm edging ever closer to becoming obsolete like the boarded up buildings in town. I have 10 more years with my kids and then what? It's a scary fucking thought.

 Sorry to be all pessimistic and shit, but just keeping it real, folks. Something about this tree is comforting, though. It reminds me that even though our circumstances may be different the cycle of life is pretty much the same for us all. There are plenty of things we can't change about life, but we do have control over how we perceive it during the short time we are here.
 
 

From the Wreckage Build a Home by The Wind and The Wave on Grooveshark

Friday, August 1, 2014

Renaissance Woman

 
"Isolation..." - Beck
 
As I'm sure you are all well aware, I've been phoning this shit in for awhile now. At some point along the way, I got scared, scared of sharing my raw, unfiltered thoughts on here. I mean, I put up a good fight for a time there, but eventually it all just got to be too much. I got lazy. It's tiresome sharing your life with the masses - your real life, mind you, and not the fake, pretty one that's full of cherry-picked moments. I felt a constant need to defend myself and my actions, probably because I wasn't sure of myself or my actions. How could I be when I've never had any kind of real support system?

The past few months I've entered a phase in my life of self-discovery. Maybe I'm immature and should have gone through this shit in my twenties. I guess I'm a late bloomer. Whatever. I pretty much walked around like a zombie throughout my twenties, letting everyone else make my decisions and popping out a baby every few years. Besides, someone once said that the late blooms have the richest hue... Anyway, I've had an awakening of sorts. I've been doing a lot of soul searching and have been trying to figure out why I'm so fucked up about so many things.

I hate to be all cliché' and blame it all on my parents, but, damn if I don't blame a lot of it on them. Maybe blame is not the right word. I don't know if there is a right word. Basically, I'm trying to understand where they went wrong in order to better myself. I get that this parenting thing is shaky at best. You do what you think is right and try not to fuck the kids up too much. I forgive them for all the ways they failed me, and I love them unconditionally. The problem is they don't forgive me, they don't love me unconditionally, and they don't admit that they have ever done anything wrong.

This awakening was brought about because, once again, my parents aren't speaking to me, and this time it's for the stupidest fucking reason. I won't get into the details to protect the perpetually innocent. The details don't really matter anyway, because there is no reason why my parents should just pretend I don't exist. I can't really describe the mind fuck that it is to be rejected by your parents. I mean, I've been through it before, countless times, but for some damn reason, it never gets easier. You'd think I'd be numb to it by now, but no. I feel extremely isolated. Like, if my own parents can't love me then who the hell can?

I have no one in my life that I can talk to that can relate to me on this topic. Jerry and my friends didn't have perfect relationships with their parents, but they didn't have this. I have a sister, so you would think I could talk to her about it, and I have. Problem is, she's got a dog in this fight. What I mean is that she understands and sympathizes with me that our parents are fucked up, but she needs them for certain things so she's got to keep them close. The reality is that she benefits from any estrangement I have with my parents.

So, without a person to really turn to, I've been turning to websites and books. Those have been real eye opening. I'm no psychiatrist, but the explanation that I relate to the most is that my parents are narcissistic. I find that really ironic, because I've had numerous commenters on this blog call me just that. Maybe I am. I feel pretty certain that my parents are, so I guess I'm genetically predisposed to it or something. The thing is, I don't do half the things that good little narcissists are suppose to do, but my parents do almost all of them.

"The narcissistic mother criticizes and hides behind a veneer of martyrdom when her child needs her support." This description had me in tears when I read it because, save for a few traits, it is a spot-on description of my mom. She's more of manipulative narcissists. In order to get me to do as she wishes, she uses negative reinforcement and other mind games.

"They lie to get out of emotional responsibility." My dad's more of a straightforward narcissists. He only cares about himself and doesn't want anything to inconvenience him. He'll lie, hurt my feelings, and do whatever else it takes to get out of something he doesn't really feel like doing. It's all about him all the time.

"There are narcissistic parents who deny their children's existence by insisting their children be and do what THEY want, and there are those who deny their children's existence by simply ignoring their children altogether." Both of my parents do both of these things interchangeably. Right now, they are doing the later. It hurts, but at least I have a name for it now. At least I know it's not me. It's them.

I've ordered a book called, "Will I Ever Be Good Enough?" I've been waiting patiently for it to arrive for a week now, but as fate would have it, it hasn't. Amazon says it was delivered days ago, but it's no where to be found. It would seem that life is saying, "Fuck you for trying to help yourself." Or maybe my mom somehow intercepted it...or maybe her prayer warriors have struck again...I don't know. What I do know is that I'm determined to unlock the mystery that is me, to forgive myself for not being the daughter my parents wished I was, to love my true self, and to be a better woman for it.

Wave by Beck on Grooveshark

Friday, July 25, 2014

Crackalackin

Skirt: Cracker Barrel
Necklace: Anthropologie Bijouterie Layering Necklace
Flip Flops: Old Navy
 

"Show me my silver lining. Try to keep on keeping on..." - First Aid Kit

So, I fell in love with a dress. Yeah, I know, that's pretty much a daily occurrence for me, but no, seriously, I FELL IN LOVE with a dress. From the moment I saw the Shibori Maxi Dress on Anthropologie's website, I knew it must be mine. The subdued grey tie-dye print, the gauze-like material, the cute cut out in the back...ah, it's a hippie chicks dream dress.

Even though I think I spied this dress the minute they put it on the website, it was on backorder. I think Anthro does that just to torture the junkies like myself. They'll put a dress out on the website way before they have any inventory. You know, just to fuck with us and make us want it even more, and it totally works. As the weeks went by, I was practically foaming at the mouth to get my hands on this dress. Finally, it shipped! It felt like Christmas when the package arrived in my mailbox, and I ripped into it like a crazed, hope-filled kid jacked up on Christmas spirit. Of course, once I got it on my body, it was a total letdown. The dress fit beautifully everywhere except...you guessed it...my motherfreakn' boobs. I got a medium, and I couldn't even zip the damn thing. So, back to the store it went.

Over the next couple of weeks, I found myself thinking about the dress at random times, wondering what might have been if the makers could have just considered that busty gals want to wear cute hippie dresses too. Eventually, though, I let it go and moved on with my life. After all, I had a road trip to take to Tennessee.

As is the case with many of our road trips, we ended up at a Cracker Barrel for breakfast one day, and as usual, I got suckered into buying toys at the parental money pit that is the Cracker Barrel Old Country Store. However, this time, mama got a little something-something for herself. While my little girl was seeking out the perfect toy, I found the silver lining to this story: a Cracker Barrel Exclusive Tie Dyed Maxi Skirt. Yep, I bought a skirt at Cracker Barrel. I can't believe I just typed that sentence...

I'm telling you, though, the country fried set has apparently gone cookoo for boho. There was a little section in the corner of the store that looked like a mini-Anthro. I saw several tops and necklaces that I would have bought if I had the money, but in the end, I just stuck with the $30 skirt. It's no Shibori Maxi Dress, but it comes pretty damn close.   


My Silver Lining by First Aid Kit on Grooveshark