Here's some of her 2010 line. It's not completely my style, but LOOK AT THOSE WEDGES. Om nom nom nom nom.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
naughty nanny
When I was in New York a few years ago, my classmates and I were given a special tour of Nanette Lepore's head office and workshop. It makes me want to give myself five big smacks on the head when I think back on it, because I wasn't a big Nanette fan at the time. I didn't even jump at the offer to buy her clothes for discounted prices in their showroom! Why oh why!
Here's some of her 2010 line. It's not completely my style, but LOOK AT THOSE WEDGES. Om nom nom nom nom.
Here's some of her 2010 line. It's not completely my style, but LOOK AT THOSE WEDGES. Om nom nom nom nom.
Monday, August 30, 2010
tried to make a move just to stay in the game, i tried to stay awake and remember my name..
I don't trust people easily.
I never have, and I never will. I don't look at it as a weakness..if anything I look at is as a strength. And I'm not trying to sound pessimistic by any means (perhaps borderline realistic), but I believe it to be a fact that there are few people out there who won't turn around on you one day and completely surprise you.
I've been through enough in my life --seen enough, experienced enough-- to know that trust is something that needs to be earned over time. It doesn't come at the drop of a hat, no matter how charming someone seems (believe me, I've learned this the hard way) or how believable they are (I'm being super negative I know haha, but stay with me here).
Due to...recent events, I stay more true to my beliefs than ever before. I've learned that everyone is capable of surprising you, even the people you thought you knew the most. I think there is something in the water this summer, because I've seen a lot of it these 4 hot, humid months. Maybe it's the heat..people get all stir crazy..but I've seen many things I would have never seen coming.
It's a terrible feeling putting your trust in someone and having it thrown back in your face. It's the reason I don't give my trust out like spare change. People are good liars. I, in particular, am not. So in a way I suppose I admire their acting skills, but thats about it. The way in which so many people are able to manipulate one another is astounding, really. I guess being born with a guilty conscience that weighs about twenty tonnes has sort of clouded my understanding of the whole lying and manipulation game.
Anyway, there's not really a point to this. Just needed a vent. I will leave you with my song list and a lovely picture of a lovely man.
sarah's songs of the day:
'golden years' david bowie
'glass' julian casablancas
'search and destroy' iggy pop
'from hank to hendrix' neil young
'mine' taylor swift
Quite eclectic, I know.
I never have, and I never will. I don't look at it as a weakness..if anything I look at is as a strength. And I'm not trying to sound pessimistic by any means (perhaps borderline realistic), but I believe it to be a fact that there are few people out there who won't turn around on you one day and completely surprise you.
I've been through enough in my life --seen enough, experienced enough-- to know that trust is something that needs to be earned over time. It doesn't come at the drop of a hat, no matter how charming someone seems (believe me, I've learned this the hard way) or how believable they are (I'm being super negative I know haha, but stay with me here).
Due to...recent events, I stay more true to my beliefs than ever before. I've learned that everyone is capable of surprising you, even the people you thought you knew the most. I think there is something in the water this summer, because I've seen a lot of it these 4 hot, humid months. Maybe it's the heat..people get all stir crazy..but I've seen many things I would have never seen coming.
It's a terrible feeling putting your trust in someone and having it thrown back in your face. It's the reason I don't give my trust out like spare change. People are good liars. I, in particular, am not. So in a way I suppose I admire their acting skills, but thats about it. The way in which so many people are able to manipulate one another is astounding, really. I guess being born with a guilty conscience that weighs about twenty tonnes has sort of clouded my understanding of the whole lying and manipulation game.
Anyway, there's not really a point to this. Just needed a vent. I will leave you with my song list and a lovely picture of a lovely man.
sarah's songs of the day:
'golden years' david bowie
'glass' julian casablancas
'search and destroy' iggy pop
'from hank to hendrix' neil young
'mine' taylor swift
Quite eclectic, I know.
at the bird's foot
On Saturday night a few friends and I went to the Tegan & Sara and City & Colour concert at Molson Ampitheatre. I've seen Dallas play a couple times, so I was fully prepared for an amazing concert and there was no let down there.
He played "At The Bird's Foot" for the first time at the show and I just wanted to share it. After a little bit of a monologue about what inspires his writing, he called Tegan and Sara onstage and announced they were going to play a brand new song that was about the BP oil spill ("I uh, well.. I wrote this about the BP oil spill okay"). Cutie. It's performances like this that really make me love our homegrown music--a thought which was ten times stronger when Gord Downie showed up during Dallas' encore for a little Sleeping Sickness action. A great night. :)
He played "At The Bird's Foot" for the first time at the show and I just wanted to share it. After a little bit of a monologue about what inspires his writing, he called Tegan and Sara onstage and announced they were going to play a brand new song that was about the BP oil spill ("I uh, well.. I wrote this about the BP oil spill okay"). Cutie. It's performances like this that really make me love our homegrown music--a thought which was ten times stronger when Gord Downie showed up during Dallas' encore for a little Sleeping Sickness action. A great night. :)
Friday, August 27, 2010
my antique bag
I found this little (big) guy while perusing my favourite antique market. It's a mystery where he's from and how old he is, but I like to think he's from the 60s or 70s. He was hiding behind some old records and I almost missed him. Phew.
He's one of my favourite things right now.
(PS like my new rings? I can't get enough of double finger rings. You can't really see in this pic, but these ones are super badass. All studded and whatnot. Great for all those super tough fights I get into. Grr.)
He's one of my favourite things right now.
(PS like my new rings? I can't get enough of double finger rings. You can't really see in this pic, but these ones are super badass. All studded and whatnot. Great for all those super tough fights I get into. Grr.)
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
dominance and loyalty, don't mess with security
After four long (or short-- I can't quite figure it out) months, summer for me is officially winding down. I'm slowly starting to gather my things and begin the fantastic list making process of moving myself back to college. And of course, with the list making comes the stressful realization that I've left everything until the last minute once again, as well as the overwhelming feeling that I have just far too much I need to get done within the next two weeks.
While most people are whining about the lack of freedom that awaits us all at the beginning of September, I couldn't be more excited to get myself back to school. I'm not saying I don't love being home and with everyone here, but 4 month long summers can create a pretty big restless streak in someone.
At present time in my list making process, I am organizing all my goods and attempting to differentiate between necessary purchases I need to make for my return to uni, and purchases that are simply the desires of a 19 year old girl with lack of spending control. I mean, I used to think my buying habits were restricted to mainly clothes, but now that I'm some sort of grown up and living on my own, I've realized these habits also transfer over (quite easily) to the act of buying home decor. Nom nom.
Naturally (I say sarcastically, as if everyone is as all over the place and undecided as me) I've completely outgrown and am over the colour scheme I went with in my student house last year. For some reason I thought it would be nice and chipper to go with a yellow theme, which makes zero sense when I think about it now because I have never been a fan of the colour. But, thanks to poor judgement, I am now stuck with tons of tacky yellow throw pillows, a yellow desk chair, and some funky yellow desk accessories. Hm.
I find myself making impromptu trips to Ikea, promising myself I'll only look at practical things like organizers and hangers, but somehow drifting into the bed section and planning my new bedroom entirely around a beautiful wrought iron bed that I've come across or a $700 wardrobe that looks like it would take me right to Narnia.
Ohhh what I'd do with money if I had it...
Other than my list making and decor desires, the end of summer 2010 brings with it some lessons learned and some things to look forward to.
I think, out of all my 19 summers, this summer was definitely the most interesting and the most about me. With a boyfriend on the other side of the world for 3 months, and friends falling in and out of love and being in and out of my life because of it, I got a whole lot of time to focus on myself. And while, suffices to say, the aforementioned made this summer a little bit of a test on my emotions, it was all for the better. That's how I'm looking at it now, and the mentality I tried to keep towards my situation all summer long (though I admit, a few times my frustration got the best of me). As lame as I sound, I found a lot in myself that I think needed to be found. And I got to focus on a lot of stuff I haven't been able to, and have been making fantastic plans for this time next year (Scotland, Scotland, you're looking better every day)!
I really do think everything happens for a reason. We get thrown curveballs-good and bad, big and small- all the time, and we need to learn to just accept them. Because everything works out...it always does. I've been telling myself that for years but I think now I actually believe it ("Oh my god this girl is soo lame, cue sappy music").
For serious though. I'm a pretty happy girl right now.
While most people are whining about the lack of freedom that awaits us all at the beginning of September, I couldn't be more excited to get myself back to school. I'm not saying I don't love being home and with everyone here, but 4 month long summers can create a pretty big restless streak in someone.
At present time in my list making process, I am organizing all my goods and attempting to differentiate between necessary purchases I need to make for my return to uni, and purchases that are simply the desires of a 19 year old girl with lack of spending control. I mean, I used to think my buying habits were restricted to mainly clothes, but now that I'm some sort of grown up and living on my own, I've realized these habits also transfer over (quite easily) to the act of buying home decor. Nom nom.
Naturally (I say sarcastically, as if everyone is as all over the place and undecided as me) I've completely outgrown and am over the colour scheme I went with in my student house last year. For some reason I thought it would be nice and chipper to go with a yellow theme, which makes zero sense when I think about it now because I have never been a fan of the colour. But, thanks to poor judgement, I am now stuck with tons of tacky yellow throw pillows, a yellow desk chair, and some funky yellow desk accessories. Hm.
I find myself making impromptu trips to Ikea, promising myself I'll only look at practical things like organizers and hangers, but somehow drifting into the bed section and planning my new bedroom entirely around a beautiful wrought iron bed that I've come across or a $700 wardrobe that looks like it would take me right to Narnia.
Ohhh what I'd do with money if I had it...
Other than my list making and decor desires, the end of summer 2010 brings with it some lessons learned and some things to look forward to.
I think, out of all my 19 summers, this summer was definitely the most interesting and the most about me. With a boyfriend on the other side of the world for 3 months, and friends falling in and out of love and being in and out of my life because of it, I got a whole lot of time to focus on myself. And while, suffices to say, the aforementioned made this summer a little bit of a test on my emotions, it was all for the better. That's how I'm looking at it now, and the mentality I tried to keep towards my situation all summer long (though I admit, a few times my frustration got the best of me). As lame as I sound, I found a lot in myself that I think needed to be found. And I got to focus on a lot of stuff I haven't been able to, and have been making fantastic plans for this time next year (Scotland, Scotland, you're looking better every day)!
I really do think everything happens for a reason. We get thrown curveballs-good and bad, big and small- all the time, and we need to learn to just accept them. Because everything works out...it always does. I've been telling myself that for years but I think now I actually believe it ("Oh my god this girl is soo lame, cue sappy music").
For serious though. I'm a pretty happy girl right now.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
and the northern girls with the way they kiss, they keep their boyfriends warm at night
I've had a theory for a very long time that in my past life I was alive and well during the 1960's.
Since I could understand what they were saying, most members of my family and the extended have told me I'm an old soul. According to my hippie aunt--who, at the age of 60, still runs around in long floral skirts with hair down to her knees-- I give off the "vibe" of being an old soul. It apparently has something to do with my quiet demeanor and the way I think and analyze situations (if overanalyzing every single thing makes me an old soul, I must be thousands of years old). So, growing up I learned to accept this. At every family function I was used to being told this theory over and over and politely shrugging and saying "Guess so". I mean, it made sense in some ways: I've always had a passion for history and old things, and you put me inside an antique market and I've stepped inside my own personal heaven. I've also always had interest in very odd things that none of my friends could relate to.
The first time I listened to the Beatles I was 15. I was a bit of a late bloomer in developing my musical taste. I spent the first couple years of high school focussed solely on fitting in, so most of the music I listened to was generic Top 40 pop and a bunch of emo screaming tunes when that phase was big. Thinking back on it now, I never even enjoyed the screaming emo music that I pretended to be head over heels for. A lot of it just made me cringe, but I figured it was what I needed to be listening to to match my style (I was very big on the checkered vans and band tees for a good 6 months in the tenth grade). Ahh your typical high schooler just attempting to be cool. How very cliche of me.
When I listened to The Beatles, it was because I was bored with myself one evening. I decided to download Abbey Road, to see what all the hype was about. Let me tell you, had I ever been missing out.
I'm not going to go into some big emotional speel about my passion for classic rock and folk, even though I could do so very easily. I could go on and on about how Zeppelin turns me on, and how Dylan makes me want to do big things with my life, and Simon and Garfunkel make me cry.
The connection I feel to music from the 60s and early 70s is fantastic and terrible at the same time. It's like the chills all over, and so much happiness mixed with a major sense of regret because nobody makes music like it anymore. I almost feel a sense of longing-- a sense that I'm missing someone or something when I listen to any of it.
So, that is why I am seriously set on my theory that I was alive during the 60's and a true fan of the greatest music ever made.
It sounds silly and doesn't make much sense, but it's hard to explain unless you're me (obviously) so just accept it and nod your head while secretly thinking to yourself "this girl is crazy".
Anyway, the real reason I'm writing a post today is because the past couple of weeks I've been oddly transfixed on that whole 1960's all-American, California, surf music scene.
While organizing CD's at my boyfriend's place (which is also my place of work), I came across a Beach Boys greatest hits album. I like the Beach Boy's a normal amount, I suppose. They remind me of my childhood really, because they were recurring guests on good ol' Full House (the sitcom that defined my early years and created my passion for San Francisco that still burns strong today). I've been really focussed on expanding my music collection lately, so I burned the 30 track CD onto my iTunes since the Beach Boys are a pretty good definition of happy summer listening.
I've had the album on almost non stop. I'm transfixed by the surf guitar sound (SO good), and can't stop wondering why people don't make music like this anymore. The lyrics are corny and the harmonies are like that of a 50's barbershop quartet, but when Beach Boys songs came out in the mid to late 60's, they were considered fantastic, honest, and some of the greatest songs to hit America.
Why can't we think music like this is cool today? I think the world would be such a happy place.
Since I could understand what they were saying, most members of my family and the extended have told me I'm an old soul. According to my hippie aunt--who, at the age of 60, still runs around in long floral skirts with hair down to her knees-- I give off the "vibe" of being an old soul. It apparently has something to do with my quiet demeanor and the way I think and analyze situations (if overanalyzing every single thing makes me an old soul, I must be thousands of years old). So, growing up I learned to accept this. At every family function I was used to being told this theory over and over and politely shrugging and saying "Guess so". I mean, it made sense in some ways: I've always had a passion for history and old things, and you put me inside an antique market and I've stepped inside my own personal heaven. I've also always had interest in very odd things that none of my friends could relate to.
The first time I listened to the Beatles I was 15. I was a bit of a late bloomer in developing my musical taste. I spent the first couple years of high school focussed solely on fitting in, so most of the music I listened to was generic Top 40 pop and a bunch of emo screaming tunes when that phase was big. Thinking back on it now, I never even enjoyed the screaming emo music that I pretended to be head over heels for. A lot of it just made me cringe, but I figured it was what I needed to be listening to to match my style (I was very big on the checkered vans and band tees for a good 6 months in the tenth grade). Ahh your typical high schooler just attempting to be cool. How very cliche of me.
When I listened to The Beatles, it was because I was bored with myself one evening. I decided to download Abbey Road, to see what all the hype was about. Let me tell you, had I ever been missing out.
I'm not going to go into some big emotional speel about my passion for classic rock and folk, even though I could do so very easily. I could go on and on about how Zeppelin turns me on, and how Dylan makes me want to do big things with my life, and Simon and Garfunkel make me cry.
The connection I feel to music from the 60s and early 70s is fantastic and terrible at the same time. It's like the chills all over, and so much happiness mixed with a major sense of regret because nobody makes music like it anymore. I almost feel a sense of longing-- a sense that I'm missing someone or something when I listen to any of it.
So, that is why I am seriously set on my theory that I was alive during the 60's and a true fan of the greatest music ever made.
It sounds silly and doesn't make much sense, but it's hard to explain unless you're me (obviously) so just accept it and nod your head while secretly thinking to yourself "this girl is crazy".
Anyway, the real reason I'm writing a post today is because the past couple of weeks I've been oddly transfixed on that whole 1960's all-American, California, surf music scene.
While organizing CD's at my boyfriend's place (which is also my place of work), I came across a Beach Boys greatest hits album. I like the Beach Boy's a normal amount, I suppose. They remind me of my childhood really, because they were recurring guests on good ol' Full House (the sitcom that defined my early years and created my passion for San Francisco that still burns strong today). I've been really focussed on expanding my music collection lately, so I burned the 30 track CD onto my iTunes since the Beach Boys are a pretty good definition of happy summer listening.
I've had the album on almost non stop. I'm transfixed by the surf guitar sound (SO good), and can't stop wondering why people don't make music like this anymore. The lyrics are corny and the harmonies are like that of a 50's barbershop quartet, but when Beach Boys songs came out in the mid to late 60's, they were considered fantastic, honest, and some of the greatest songs to hit America.
Why can't we think music like this is cool today? I think the world would be such a happy place.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
boogie down
The first thing I did when I was inside the overcrowded Kool Haus in Toronto last night was stumble my way to the ATM, then stumble my way to the bar. My pre-Kool Haus show ritual of downing Rockstar Vodkas ("Officer, I don't know what you're talking about, these are just energy drinks. No public drinking here.") on the Toronto lakefront had been a success and I was in my stage of intoxication where more alcohol consumption seemed to be the only option.
MGMT's opening band for the evening (http://www.myspace.com/violens) was still playing when my friends and I arrived around 9:45 so we were in no real rush to join the crowd. A beer at the bar is always a great way to start a concert.
It took a good 20 minutes of pushing, shoving, "I'm so sorry" 's, and "Please let us through, our best friend is up front and we need to find her" 's to finally make it to a semi- decent spot about 2 rows of people back from the stage. For the crowd we were in, this was definitely a huge success. We settled in (I use this term ironically-- there was no settling at this show) for a sweaty 2 hours of Andrew and Ben belting sensual tunes in our ears.
Leading up to the show, I wasn't expecting much. MGMT is in my top 5 list of favourite bands of my generation, and Andrew Vanwyngarden is like some sort of god to me, but I've watched and read enough interviews with the band to pick up on the vibe that they don't give a particularly big shit about how they come off to anyone. So with this mentality in mind, I was sort of expecting a laid back show with Andrew mumbling into the microphone.
It's not like I would have cared too much if that had been the outcome anyway. I'd been waiting for MGMT to hit Toronto for the past 2 years so there was no way I was going to miss out.
When the band finally came on stage (casual strides, Vanwyngarden sporting an almost shy smile) and kicked off with "The Youth", I actually had a legitimate 10 seconds of Jonas Brothers syndrome. I felt like my 15 year old sister in the presence of Nick Jonas. Their sound was so clear and Vanwyngarden actually COULD sing live. I was in my glory.
MGMT's almost 2 hour set never lost steam, and was a perfect mix of new and old tunes. When they played "Kids", the feeling in the hall was fantastic. I've never seen such an excited and happy group of people (the dozens of joints being passed around probably helped the atmosphere). It was really amazing.
All in all, the best concert I've been to in a while. I've never been one for massive arena shows, so I loved the fact that MGMT was general admission at the Kool Haus. It was a swell evening, and even though it ended with a headachey and pukey Sarah on the train ride home, it was worth it.
Long live Vanwyngarden, that's all I've gotta say.
MGMT's opening band for the evening (http://www.myspace.com/violens) was still playing when my friends and I arrived around 9:45 so we were in no real rush to join the crowd. A beer at the bar is always a great way to start a concert.
It took a good 20 minutes of pushing, shoving, "I'm so sorry" 's, and "Please let us through, our best friend is up front and we need to find her" 's to finally make it to a semi- decent spot about 2 rows of people back from the stage. For the crowd we were in, this was definitely a huge success. We settled in (I use this term ironically-- there was no settling at this show) for a sweaty 2 hours of Andrew and Ben belting sensual tunes in our ears.
Leading up to the show, I wasn't expecting much. MGMT is in my top 5 list of favourite bands of my generation, and Andrew Vanwyngarden is like some sort of god to me, but I've watched and read enough interviews with the band to pick up on the vibe that they don't give a particularly big shit about how they come off to anyone. So with this mentality in mind, I was sort of expecting a laid back show with Andrew mumbling into the microphone.
It's not like I would have cared too much if that had been the outcome anyway. I'd been waiting for MGMT to hit Toronto for the past 2 years so there was no way I was going to miss out.
When the band finally came on stage (casual strides, Vanwyngarden sporting an almost shy smile) and kicked off with "The Youth", I actually had a legitimate 10 seconds of Jonas Brothers syndrome. I felt like my 15 year old sister in the presence of Nick Jonas. Their sound was so clear and Vanwyngarden actually COULD sing live. I was in my glory.
MGMT's almost 2 hour set never lost steam, and was a perfect mix of new and old tunes. When they played "Kids", the feeling in the hall was fantastic. I've never seen such an excited and happy group of people (the dozens of joints being passed around probably helped the atmosphere). It was really amazing.
All in all, the best concert I've been to in a while. I've never been one for massive arena shows, so I loved the fact that MGMT was general admission at the Kool Haus. It was a swell evening, and even though it ended with a headachey and pukey Sarah on the train ride home, it was worth it.
Long live Vanwyngarden, that's all I've gotta say.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
I am a creature of habit.
I suppose we all are, in a way. We like to be comfortable, and our habits create that comfort.
My habits are more like routines. From the age of 8 to around my 2nd year of high school, I was so dedicated to my nightly routines that I legitimately feared breaking them would curse me with brutal luck and terrible karma (yes, I 1000% believe in karma). I believed not doing everything the same before going to bed each night would like, kill off one of my friends or cause me to fail English class. I swear to god. And I don't particularly know what made me so superstitious, because I was and still am in no way superstitious with things such as broken mirrors and awkwardly placed ladders.
But there I was, doing the exact same thing every single night before I could attempt to sleep, and I didn't feel comfortable unless this simple routine of mine was performed. It was like this case of mild OCD that no one really knew I had. My dirty little (weird) secret?
Anyway, after some self critiquing in my mid-high school life crisis (this is when I turned "scene kid" for a few months. Let me tell ya, what show.) I realized this wasn't particularly OCD as much as it was this massive fear of change in me.
When it comes to change, I'm a little hypocritical about the matter. I desperately desire new adventures every day of my life. I want to go everywhere, I want to see everything, I want to meet everyone (who doesn't). Yet as soon as I do something different, my mind starts reeling with this massive sense of regret, and begins to torment me for making the decisions I make. However, what I've learned as I've grown up and been out in the (somewhat) real world, is that I'm not the only one who feels this way with new experiences, and the feeling almost always goes away after a week or two.
I guess what I'm getting at in this ramble is that I wish I knew that the feeling went away when I was in high school. I wish I knew that almost every experience always turns out to be an interesting and exciting one, no matter how big of a change it is and how terrified and full of regret I feel at the start.
It's a fantastic realization, really. I guess living in the same town my entire life (a town where both my parents were also born and have lived for both their 48 years), I just didn't grow up being used to change.
I still enjoy my little habits and routines (like Starbucks coffee and country road driving every Saturday afternoon) but if I have to break them or suddenly am not able to participate in them anymore (like if Starbucks closed--god forbid) who cares.
That's really all.
I suppose we all are, in a way. We like to be comfortable, and our habits create that comfort.
My habits are more like routines. From the age of 8 to around my 2nd year of high school, I was so dedicated to my nightly routines that I legitimately feared breaking them would curse me with brutal luck and terrible karma (yes, I 1000% believe in karma). I believed not doing everything the same before going to bed each night would like, kill off one of my friends or cause me to fail English class. I swear to god. And I don't particularly know what made me so superstitious, because I was and still am in no way superstitious with things such as broken mirrors and awkwardly placed ladders.
But there I was, doing the exact same thing every single night before I could attempt to sleep, and I didn't feel comfortable unless this simple routine of mine was performed. It was like this case of mild OCD that no one really knew I had. My dirty little (weird) secret?
Anyway, after some self critiquing in my mid-high school life crisis (this is when I turned "scene kid" for a few months. Let me tell ya, what show.) I realized this wasn't particularly OCD as much as it was this massive fear of change in me.
When it comes to change, I'm a little hypocritical about the matter. I desperately desire new adventures every day of my life. I want to go everywhere, I want to see everything, I want to meet everyone (who doesn't). Yet as soon as I do something different, my mind starts reeling with this massive sense of regret, and begins to torment me for making the decisions I make. However, what I've learned as I've grown up and been out in the (somewhat) real world, is that I'm not the only one who feels this way with new experiences, and the feeling almost always goes away after a week or two.
I guess what I'm getting at in this ramble is that I wish I knew that the feeling went away when I was in high school. I wish I knew that almost every experience always turns out to be an interesting and exciting one, no matter how big of a change it is and how terrified and full of regret I feel at the start.
It's a fantastic realization, really. I guess living in the same town my entire life (a town where both my parents were also born and have lived for both their 48 years), I just didn't grow up being used to change.
I still enjoy my little habits and routines (like Starbucks coffee and country road driving every Saturday afternoon) but if I have to break them or suddenly am not able to participate in them anymore (like if Starbucks closed--god forbid) who cares.
That's really all.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
teenage dream
Why hi there, new blog !
It's me. Formerly laylabojangles (lame--I can practically hear the eye rolls), I decided it was definitely time for a fresh start. Not for any important reason in particular, but simply because I've been so uninspired this hot, humid summer that I was at the point of my writer's block teetering me further and further out on the brink of insanity. Another day without any sharing of my irrelevant, irrational thoughts with the world (world=the 3 people who read my blog) and I would've fallen into a deep hole of zero creativity.
I'm quite dramatic. Get used to it if you're new here.
Anywho, starting anew has luckily perked up my inspiration, and for the first time since May I'm actually excited to write. This is funny to say, being who I am. If there's one thing I am truly passionate about in this life, it's writing...and music and fantastic clothes, but I can't sing or sew so writing comes first.
This sticky Canadian summer has kept me quite busy and distracted, to the point where a few nightly lines of scribbles in my journal have replaced daily blogging and short story writing. I can't even place my finger on why I'm so distracted from writing--I have all my nights and weekends free, and have surprisingly not been drowning myself in booze and parties this summer. But writing just hasn't been something I've felt like doing every day.
I'm back now (I'm almost positive) and am going to use this blog for everything. My last blog was mainly long posts discussing the happs in my life, but this new interweb child of mine is going to be full of music stuff, fashion stuff, AND my life stories (nom nom nom, a cornucopia of Sarah)!
This sticky Canadian summer has kept me quite busy and distracted, to the point where a few nightly lines of scribbles in my journal have replaced daily blogging and short story writing. I can't even place my finger on why I'm so distracted from writing--I have all my nights and weekends free, and have surprisingly not been drowning myself in booze and parties this summer. But writing just hasn't been something I've felt like doing every day.
I'm back now (I'm almost positive) and am going to use this blog for everything. My last blog was mainly long posts discussing the happs in my life, but this new interweb child of mine is going to be full of music stuff, fashion stuff, AND my life stories (nom nom nom, a cornucopia of Sarah)!
Papapower, bitches.
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