Stepford Barbie?

I noticed this weekend that apparently, wearing heels to the grocery store causes me to spend approximately three times more than I would otherwise.  There seemed to be something just so right about tossing miscellaneous items into my shopping cart while I pranced around about five inches taller than natural. 

Something very...Stepford wife-ish. 

It was exhilarating, until I realized the buggy was nearly overflowing (I could barely move it, it was so heavy) and remembered that I had been supplied with limited funds.  So a marched up to around four or five random shoppers and employees to ask them if they believed I had stayed under my limit.  (Obviously, overconfidence is also a side-effect of shopping in high heels.) 

When I finally made it to the check-out counter and discovered that I was, indeed, under my limit, I actually felt upset and cheated, like I needed to go back and buy more food.  Ooooh, very bad, Barbie. 

Therefore, I will be wearing flats to the grocery store from now on.  Boo-hoo.

Sex, love, and...shoes??

My obsession with shoes has taken a new turn.  My first love was strappy stilettos.  We broke up, and I started stalking wedges.  When that didn't work out, I met the classic pump, and as that relationship grew boring, I am now pursuing a winter fling with boots.  (Confession:  I still have occasional one-night-stands with my former lovers.)

But oh, my boots.  My old go-to cowboy boots, my classic brown leather Jessica Simpson knee-highs, the Calvin Klein black ankle boots, my leopard print rain boots...my list of conquests would shock you!  But I wanted needed, something more.

Then I discovered, thanks to my InStyle magazine subscription, over-the-knee boots.  Lust at first sight.

And I never lust after something for long!

(Forgive the grainy photo - I was literally panting trying to get a good picture of these by myself, while they were on myself's feet!!)

Aren't. They. GORGEOUS.

(Rhetorical question, darlings.)

Black Nine West over-the-knee boots.  I squealed when I found them.  Yes, in the store.  In front of people.  We are in the newlywed phase and I refuse to be ashamed for squealing.  I hugged them all the way to the register.

These boots are going to make beautiful babies with tights and mini-dresses.  Sigh. 

So dudes, I'm gonna get a tattoo that says ITALY...across my belly!!

The Hills actually made me a little nauseous last night - Justin Bobby's belly tattoo...

And the always classy Spencer's cowboy hat...

And Brody's asshole attitude about his girlfriend not wanting to go to his ex-girlfriend's party (yeah, Brody, I was in love with you before this little pissy hissy fit you threw!)...

And Kristin's devastated surprise that Justin Bobby stood her up.  Really, really?  You were surprised?  If his trailer park name doesn't tell you anything, his hair should!  Oh, Kristin.  If you are not invincible, I don't think I can have a girl crush on you anymore...

Oh, and I definitely think I saw Spencer at my gym today.  Yeah, I almost walked up to him and asked him what was up with the cowboy hats and insulting a six-year-old.  (I have a feeling though, that this guy probably doesn't even watch The Hills and would have thought I was just a teensey bit crazy!)

Don't you just love the fun, ridiculousness of "scripted-reality" t.v.?

My name is Barbie, and yes, I'm a color-holic!

Anyone who knows me can tell you that since I've learned that one can change her hair color, I've experimented with every color of the rainbow.  The hair rainbow, though.  I like to keep it natural - my personality just doesn't suit pink highlights.

I quickly decided that my favorite color of the hair rainbow was blonde, but I could never decide which shade of blonde I liked best.  When I wanted low maintenance, I would change to dark blonde.  When I decided to forget low maintenance and go with my heart's true desire, I went platinum.  When I just wanted a change, I got highlights or lowlights, and when I got a wild hair up my ass (a lovely Georgia phrase I've picked up!!), I regret to say that I turned my back on blonde and went brunette.  Shudder.  Brunette just never felt like me.

Because I hardly ever use any heat styling on my hair (due to my exciting "commuting + school + working out = ponytail" routine), I have never understood why my hair has always been so dry and damaged and impossible to work with.  I kept searching for the lastest, greatest hair miracle out there, and readers, it has taken me years to understand that color can ruin pretty hair.  I mean, as in up until today it never really, truly occurred to me. 

Pretty blonde of me, huh?  (God, I'm just so clever!)

Today, I let my sister smash my dream of having gloriously long hair on my wedding day and cut the damaged ends off.  And it was a lot of ends.  There's still more damage left to get rid of, but she removed about ninety percent of the splits and melties.  (And okay, I'm exaggerating about her smashing my dreams, as my hair's been refusing to grow any longer for a few months now because of the damage.)

My new cut shows off my natural curl in a BIG way.  I feel very Marilyn, but without the platinum.  Which I promise to stay away from for a long, long time.

(Horrible picture.  Uh-mazing haircut!!)

My sister is amazing at what she does!!  If you want her information, tweet or facebook me, because my hair looks absolutely fabulous, and yours should, too!!

Woopsies

So, the lyrics of "Confessions" by Usher are stuck in my head right now because, you, my readers, are the ones I confess to when I have put my credit card in places it doesn't belong.  Or does belong but shouldn't go.  Or something.

It started out innocently enough.  My mom needed my help picking out something to wear on her birthday.  After class, we met at a little Japanese restaurant for some lunch, and off we went to find her outfit.  But my sneaky little card, which had been locked in the safe at my house (to keep me from using it), had found its way back into my wallet yesterday to buy some fabric for my sewing class (a lovely leopard print which will soon become a chic skirt).

Here are my woopsies.

I've been wanting a vest for years!!  This picture is terrible, but it's a little black cheapie from Maurice's whose buttons will have to be re-sewn, but it's so prescious and very versatile, plus it was on sale for almost nothing!!

A Michael Kors belt that I am now in love with.  I will be able to wear it around my waist with a belt, or through the belt loops of jeans.  Also very versatile!!

"These are my confessions!!"  And now hubby is home...dun dun dunnnnn!!  :)

Bleached, broke, and fabulous!!

So, last week I whined about my lack of motivation, but this week, I'm getting my life back in shape!!  This always happens when I decide to love myself, just as I am - I end up becoming a lazy shit for a little while.  But when I'm cursing my fat genetics and stressing out over anything, I'm actually my happiest.  Screw accepting myself as I am - I want the bigger and better me!!  (Well, maybe not bigger, but you understand.)

I have become wedding obsessed.  I eat, sleep, and breathe details like cocktail napkins.  I dream about things that can/might/will go wrong.  But I'm making progress, and let me tell you, planning a wedding is not for weenies.  There have been several times since I set the date that I've made up my mind to kidnap Ken and run off to some obscure little island and get married, but too many plans have already been set in motion.  (And who am I kidding?  I want my big fairy-tale wedding!!)

The quitting-smoking-thing is going really well - the end of this week will be a month on the patches.  I'm not saying I haven't slipped up, but everytime I do I feel so stupid and vow not to do it again.  The slip-ups are getting fewer and further between.  If any of you are trying to quit, try the patches.  The only complaint I have about them is that sometimes, they don't want to stick.  Especially at the gym.  (You know, sweat and all that un-girly fun stuff.)  "Girls don't sweat, they glisten", my ass!!

I will be going back to work in a little more than a week, another reason for the wedding mania.  I want to get everything done that I possibly can before I have even less free time than I do now.  I'm dreading it and looking forward to it at the same time.  Working just doesn't suit my lifestyle, but my shopping habits don't suit not working.  I just got a lecture from future-hubby about buying a new brush today.  One of those huge round brushes that give you incredible volume??  Love.  But I can't be irresponsible, says hubby.  So boo.  I'm ready to start making my own money again!

Oh, and my hair!  My hair had an accident last week with they dye.  That's where bleach will get you.  (No, Barbie, that's where vanity will get you!)  So now it is in such bad condition that I have been banned by my stylist from using any form of heat styling, especially straightening and curling, if I want any hair for my wedding.  So, I only get to blow-dry on the low setting, and deep condition several times a week until March.  My hair better be gorgeous that day, dammit!

Barbie Loves Fat Week

I have been such. a. freakin'. SLOB. this week.  I mean, I have nothing to show for myself - not one single thing.  School has been slow so no stress there.  I've felt lazy and tired (possibly because I haven't done anything) so working out, eh, who needs it?  Also, who needs a social life when you've got all of your new shows' premieres on t.v.?  And I've felt hungry, and munchy, and bored, and I've redeveloped my hand-mouth obsession, so I've been eating and drinking entirely too much.

So, as my social, intellectual, and physical well-being, along with any trace of self-motivation, are sitting on the back burner, the burner towards the front, the one that smells so good, the one I'm paying attention to, is cooking something yummy that I'm going to eat while I sit my fat butt on the couch.  With a side of Pizza Hut, Chinese take-out, and a large glass of burgundy.

I definitely feel enititled to rare vacations from my own Nazi-like self-control, so here's to the rest of this wasted week.

(And Monday, I swear, it's back to salads, the gym, studying, and wedding planning!!)