Racoon eyes.

Oh Dad, you Fashionisto

ME-- White blouse: J.Crew, Navy Blouse: Anthro, Skirt: J.Crew, Shoes: Kohls, Purse: Coach BUT from China. . . . . so most likely FAKE.  MOM-- Dress: Charming Charlies, Jacket: Thrifted, Shoes: Gap, Purse: DSW.  Aint she a beaut?

My blogging has been non-existent, and for that I'm sorry.

I'm just like, really stressed about life and blogging is kinda the last thing on my mind.  

I've been trying to find a freaking job.  

Jobs are hard to come by, and right now, I'm trying to find one in New York.

If you know a guy, who knows a guy?  Let me know.

But seriously.  I'll take anything. . . Sorta.

So today was an awkward day for me at work.

I wash my face at night, but sometimes I don't get all the mascara off.  

As a result, I wake up sometimes with some mascara underneath my eyes.

Well, I didn't look in the mirror this morning.  Ya I do that.

When I got to work, I was having a conversation with my boss.  

Afterwards, I went to the bathroom.  It looked like I had been punched in the face by a dog.

There was black makeup all the way down to my cheekbones.

What the what?  

Should I start looking in the mirror in the morning?

I say yay.

Oh man I'm tired . . . 

and ya . . . seriously if you know a guy in NYC who is hiring.  Help a sister out.  

The Power of Love

 Droids!

Me saying, "Can I have all the bread kinds?"

I'm gonna marry her talent.

Let this be an example to you.

That taking a trip to Sin City for the pure enjoyment of the greatest voice on earth is the equivalent of your "happy place."

Everyone should go.  And make Celine richer than she already is.

Is it sad that I looked up her net worth?

AMERICA!!!

Why I decided to make the last two pictures big, I don't know.

Fourth of July was fun, but it was a hot freaking inferno.

I ask myself daily, "why do people live in this place?"

Every time I go outside, it feels like a nasty sumo wrestler just compiled all of his sumo sweat into a bucket, dabbled some hot agave in with it, and then poured it all over my body while laughing at my face.

My clothes do not appreciate.

My next inclination was to throw myself in the ice bath where the food vendors were keeping their drinks.

Too much?  Too much.

On the fourth, I slept til noon, got gussied up in the colors, went to the Washington Mall, ate lots of food, went to an exclusive penthouse rooftop party (aww yeaaah), and watched the fireworks while I listened to the quintessential America song, "The Star Spangled Banner" sung by Whitney Houston. . . or do you think it's "Coming to America" by Neil Diamond?

Either way, I love America.    

George would have been proud

 Remember those models that stand like they haven't eaten in days and they are just "so cold?" I was attempting such stance. 

 Entire outfit (except the watch): J.Crew---Does anyone want to submit my pho-tos for a "Who puts food on the table for J.Crew employees the most" competition?

How Patriotic is my outfit? Fa reals GW would be proud.

AMERICA!

Tonight I'm going to a NATS game, and it's gone be wild with a wild firework show afterwards.

What is everyone's plan for Independence Day?

Storm Obama's Castle?  Put fireworks on the local neighborhood cat, and set it off running?  Paint a flag on a baby's bottom and wave it around?  

Wow. . . where did I come up with that idea?

It's been too long...

Dress: J.Crew, Blouse: J.Crew, Necklaces: Eastern Market and J.Crew, Shoes: Chinese Laundry via DSW.

I am back from the Goddess Divine AKA Celine Dion.  Sometimes I wonder how someone can embody so much bloody talent.  

You were a good little girl in heaven Miss Canadian.

I may or may not have cried during the show--and I was not asham-ed.

I'm so tired today, so I'm not writing a lot.  The power is out in half the city and I got heat exhaustion because of it. 

No lie, and not cool.