This is one of the chores that I really rather enjoy. Don’t know why since I don’t care for any kind of labor, but I find laundry rather relaxing. I hate when other people do the laundry for me, they do it wrong. I like twisting the knobs and I even enjoy folding the clothes. I don’t know who I am. I’m so into it that I’m thinking of putting up an ironing station in my laundry space. I want to iron all of tea towels so that they’re perfectly crisp. I really think I am Martha’s lost son. I’m going to start experimenting with fabric softener soon, and I’m super excited and that makes me a little bit sad about my life. I also want to put a laundry room together, but something much chicer than this. I can’t stand the thought of apothecary jars in my laundry room.
Going to the Tailor:
I often write about the tailor, and for good reason, tailors are marvelous. If you’ve never frequented one before, you’re a fool! There’s nothing better than finding a piece of clothing that you like and having them transform it into something that you love! I went the other day with my new suit pants because I’ve gotten skinnier(!) over the past year. I find this hard to believe, but the measurements were taken last year and those pants nearly fall off of me. I’m trying not to be too pleased. So, I took them to my favorite tailor shop — the one inside Jordan Creek — and had the most marvelous time as one of the assistants pinned and tucked and folded my pants about until I was satisfied. I get to pick them up tomorrow night and I’m ridiculously excited to try them on. They took an inch off my waist and tapered each leg by two inches. I’m a waif! I don’t much care for fabric billowing about my legs. I don’t want it to look skintight since on me that looks obscene, but I do like to show off my shapely thighs. Hopefully they’ll be just right and I can move onto the next part of my outfit: the shirt and tie…or bow tie? Can’t decide, yet. My shoes arrived yesterday and they are fantastic. Studs on studs on studs on studs.
Online shopping is the very best. You can browse and browse to your heart’s content. I love going to Burberry and just filling my cart up with goodness, then pouting when I see my total in the $23,000 range. What? I need all that! I need a sugar daddy who’ll give me a Black Card and no limits. That’s the career I was meant for, I think. I don’t think it, really, I know! Somedays you can’t get out of the house or you need a diversion or you’re not in the mood to put on clothes and face the peasants, so you open up Amazon and find something to make you happy. Such fun! I just ordered Martha’s new cookbook about cake, which I can’t wait to cook through — look forward to my new blog series. Once I get a few more finishing touches done in the kitchen, I’ll cook my way through Cakes and Meatless. I just need to finish the wall and ceiling around the oven, get it hooked up, and convince somebody to buy me a new refrigerator. Fingers crossed. Later on, I’ll work on getting my new IKEA cupboards. I have it all planned out and I have decided that I’m going to try open shelving. It’s cheaper, chicer, and if I don’t like it, I can just install cupboards later. I’ve planned the entire kitchen out online — you can shop for kitchens online! This is a wonderful world. Go buy yourself something pretty, reader. I recommend shoes. LOOK AT THE SHOES I BOUGHT ONLINE!
American Horror Story:
I’m a big fan of this American masterpiece. It’s a glorious return and rebirth of what television can be. It’s not really, though, I realize as I type this, it’s something altogether new. It’s a cinematic experiment conveyed through cable television. If you were to add a half hour to any of the episodes and tighten the plot up just a bit, you’d have a blockbuster movie. Rather fascinating the way television works now. But the thing about this show that has struck me from the very beginning is the way it feels that the concepts and ideas for this show were culled directly from my novel, Terrible Miss Margo, even though I know that’s not true. I still think it is though. Maybe Ryan Murphy has friends in the NSA and they’ve been thieving from me. It’s all there. Hollywood, ghosts, insane asylums, rusty tools, religious guilt, Louisiana, and the perfect role for Jessica Lange. I just adore the program and wish it was on year-round.
Jade Citrus Mint Green Tea:
I don’t often go to Teavana because it always seems to be a very pretentious outing. The employees are tea hipsters and in the few times I’ve been there, I’ve rarely felt welcomed in. I had a much more pleasant time there earlier this week and I will have to reevaluate my thoughts on the shop. Jessica and I were at the mall and I thought some minty green tea would be nice — kind of like the wonderful tea you can get at the Mosquée de Paris, which we both enjoy to an almost ridiculous level. I think they put something besides tea in their brew. Whatever it is, though, it’s good and it’s expensive. Two euros a glass. Cray. So, when I was at the tea shop, I asked for something like this. This time, we had an incredibly helpful sale’s associate who offered many samples. They have tea that tastes like peppermint and chocolate. Madness! She opened one of the massive bins of Jade Citrus Mint Green Tea and wafted the aromas toward us. It was heavenly and so we ordered a brewed cup with a touch of honey. Guys, it was just like being back in Paris with little birds landing on the brass-topped tables in the marble courtyard. Amazing. I had to buy some of it to have at home. I’m so glad I did. Mint green tea is one of my all-time favorites.
Well, it’s finally happened. It has snowed. I’m weeping into my pot of tea. I didn’t expect it. I was happily dressed up in my finest cold weather gear. I like wearing coats and scarves, I just don’t like the cold, you know? Scarves are a great joy in my life. Men don’t wear scarves here unless they’re fashionable cityfolk. (I’m coining that word now, pop it in the dictionary, please, Oxford. Cheers!) I’m a fashionable cityfolk who inconveniently lives on a farm in the middle of NOWHERE. Alas, I’m doomed to be trendy and elegant amongst those who prefer coats they bought at Menards. I’m shivering right now and it has nothing to do with the snow — fashion tremors, rather. Anyway, my appearance has nothing to do with the subject of this post, just thought you should be informed of my elegance. As I was sat at Django, luxuriantly sipping my tomato bisque, Jessica looked out the window with wonder. Slowly, I turned (Holla at the I Love Lucy reference!) and wailed in despair. Snow was flying past those lovely winds in a horizontal pattern. Horizontal, reader! I had to go out into the snow in my peacoat, it got on my shoes, it puddled on my new sunglasses. Oh, the terror. Please knock me out until the spring.
Lack of Transportation:
I’ve never had any real desire to own a vehicle. Oh, I have passing whims of a Mini Cooper and a Smart Car, but that’s just because they’re cute. I do want a Vespa, but that’s nothing to do with this post. Vespas are no good in the countryside. They’re to use in romantic European cities and for going on spontaneous dates with handsome natives that don’t speak your language. (Vespas are basically meant to recreate The Lizzie McGuire Movie. I will do that at some point.) But, I’m talking about a car here. I don’t want one now and I never have, but I hate not being able to go anywhere without bumming a ride off of somebody. If I just want to go to dinner someplace by myself or go to Target on a whim, I can’t. That all has to be planned in advance. I admire the freedom having a vehicle must allow. I’m not meant to be cooped up waiting to emerge from my home like some glorious, imprisoned butterfly. It wouldn’t be so awful if I lived in town or in a city with decent public transportation, but I live on a farm in the middle of nowhere, high on a hill overlooking endless fields of corn. Le sigh…I need to move.
Asshats Complaining About Black Friday:
I love Black Friday. The idea of somebody sacrificing their safety for a minor discount on a television is heaven to me. I love to go to the mall at the stroke of midnight and let the crowds carry me in and out of shops. Last year, I was in Paris on this national holiday (more important than Thanksgiving, I say, with no hint of sarcasm), so I wasn’t able to indulge on this wonderfully American tradition. This year, though, I’m here in the States and can’t wait to participate in all the greed and gluttony. My favorite place to pick up severely discounted goods is the Tommy Hilfiger shop. I love it there, even though there’s never a soul inside the shop — just me and the Russian sale’s assistant who likes to chat. The clothes are so expensive, but there’s almost always something of quality on sale. On Black Friday, the sales get even better and you can get remarkably expensive clothes for next to nothing. I bought a sweater once for $12. It was originally $80+, I was enthused. I love all the caroling and the madness and the angry people and the coupons and the unresponsive credit card readers and the shitty hot chocolate and the wonderful spirit of the holidays. Hooray for Black Friday and screw you whiners who won’t stop going on about supporting local shops. Why can’t you do that year round, dummy? Besides, maybe some people would be happy with some artisan, hand-dyed, llama wool sweater from a local vendor, but not I — bring me an Apple TV and gin, please.
I’ve had more expenses than usual this month, and I find myself quite poor. It’s a deeply uncomfortable feeling that I’ve never really had to experience before for any long length of time. The only other time I recall feeling this poor was in Disneyland this summer when every day I was burning through more and more money. I’m still paying for that trip. I’ll be paying for it until next spring, I bet! A lack of cash is very discouraging and I don’t know how other poor people do it. They probably get some money from somewhere. Food stamps or something. I’d take food stamps and some government money. Growing up middle class was the worst. I wasn’t poor enough to get anything for free. I wasn’t rich enough to get the things I should have had. It’s an unfortunate thing, really, but I shan’t whine on for ages. I see wealth and comfort on the horizon, but I don’t know the source or why I’m so confident in it. Money is the best and the only people who say it isn’t are those who don’t understand the euphoria of buying something on a whim.
US Cellular STILL Not Having My iPhone:
US Cellular, my cell phone provider, has been selling iPhones since the eighth of this month. Of course the one I want is still not in stock. The cheap plastic 5C like my sister wanted are in and she’s got it and she loves it. It’s so beautiful. I’m tempted to get one, but I know that I must be patient and I know that when my golden 5S comes, I shall be the happiest man in all the world. But right now, I want to go scratch people’s faces off. I can’t deal with waiting. I can be a very patient gentleman, but I am getting so very tired of sitting demurely in a corner with my hunk of junk from Samsung that barely receives my email. I have to beg it to download my messages. The only thing it does well is text. It drops calls, calls don’t come through, the Internet is horrendous, and the battery makes you LOL. I’m so ready to be done with it. In the meantime, I’ve been researching cases and I’ve picked out about fifteen. I want the yellow one the Apple store sells and one with Zayn’s face I found on Amazon and a book-like one I found that looks like a wallet. That’s a really cool one. I think I’m going to start with it. But…I can’t start at all until I get the damn phone. HURRY UP!