I Tried To Laugh It Off But I Made Things Worse

I've always said that I have no regrets.  Everything that I've been through, good, bad or indifferent has made me the person I am today.  While I'm still a work in progress, I feel pretty all right with who I am.  So why would I regret the choices that have made me, me?  At least, that's my working theory.  I have my moments of doubt for sure.  Recently I heard two little words that made me realize that I do wish that there are some things I'd done differently.

My wife.

Those are the words that absolutely cut me to the bone.  Things happen the way they're meant to.  I truly believe that.  I just know that had I known then what I know now, I'd choose differently than I did.  The aftermath of those words reverberating in my mind is that I began to look back at my life and think about the things I'd do differently had I known better at the time.  Nothing can be changed now and I wouldn't want to have a re-do even if I could.  I just look back with melancholy at a few situations I've been through.  Yes, apparently hindsight is 20/20 and all the other cliches in that same vein.

I know that I'd have chosen my words more carefully.  I'd think longer and more meaningfully about making decisions that not only affected me, but also people I cared deeply about.  I'd answer the phone more and rely on voice mail and caller ID less.  I'd have given myself the benefit of the doubt much more often.  I would have valued friendship more and fleeting romance less.  Apologies would have been more abundant.

Life is like that I guess.  You fall in love, you make friends... You think you know more than you do.  Friendships fade if not tended to.  You second guess that love you fell in.  You stumble and fall.  You make bad decisions.  Not everything winds up the way you planned it.  You get lost on your way to a dream.  Maybe you find a better one.  Maybe you're still figuring it all out.  And maybe, just maybe, that melancholy you feel about the things you should've done differently becomes part of the fabric of who you are.  Maybe it makes you stronger and wiser.

Today's title is from "Second Chance" by Faber Drive.

Resolve and Other Myths

I think that most people who know me personally know that I'm not a fan of the Christmas holiday.  I think it's way overrated and people spend much too much time dwelling on spending an excess of money trying to get the 'best' gifts for everyone they know.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those Jesus-Is-The-Reason-For-The-Season-Keep-CHRIST-In-Christmas types.  Far from it.  In fact, I cringe when I see that crap.  Everyone is entitled to their beliefs and if you're blessed to live in America, you have the freedom of speech.  That being said, shut up.  Really.  And if you have a birthday cake for Jesus on Christmas day, I'm likely to tell you that December 25th is not, in fact, the day of the Savior's birth.  But really, I don't want to argue.  Believe whatever floats your boat.  Here's how I sum it up (courtesy of Badass Geek):

 

And now on to other matters...  I've decided that after years of having a singular New Year's resolution (which was to never have any resolutions), I'm going to make a few this year.  Now is as good a time as any to turn over a new leaf.  It just so happens to coincide with the calendar changing from December to January.  I need to make some changes.  So here they are:

• Fast food no more than once per month,
• Exercise at least 5 days per week,
• Study hard and make A's in all my classes,
• Reconnect with friends who I've neglected my relationships with.

That's it.  Four is a nice, round number.  I think I'll be able to handle that.  We shall see.

Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself

While reading secrets at one of my very favorite websites, PostSecret, I came across a postcard that said everything I want to say.

When you realize that's what's happening, I'll be there.

Truth In Advertising

I was flipping through my second-favorite magazine earlier today, Glamour, when I ran across an ad that struck a chord with me.  I'm the type of person that looks at all the ads because I love stuff.  I like to see what I need to buy... Making mental notes as I peruse the pages.  Anyway, I came upon an advert from the devastatingly iconic Tiffany & Co.  Hello, Audrey.  One of my favorite movies ever (if you don't know what I'm referring to, you should be tarred and feathered).  So the ad has the unmistakable Tiffany blue box, which you should recognize unless you've been living under a rock.

The advert was for Tiffany Keys, which are gorgeous.  I'd love to buy one for myself... Possibly once I get a handle on this whole "back to school" thing, I'll do just that.  It would be lovely to have someone special in my life buy me one... But I'm a single lady now.  If this lady wants it, she'll get it for herself!  The following picture isn't the exact replica of the ad, but it's very similar.









Of course the Tiffany blue and the sparkly baubles were what caught my eye (I'm a chick, after all), but then I read the actual text on the ad:










Tiffany Keys


AN INTRIGUING INVITATION.
A REVEALING DISCOVERY.
A PROMISE OF ADVENTURE.
A WHISPERED ROMANCE.
A QUESTION ANSWERED.
A SECRET KEPT.


I read it three or four times, because it just cracked me up.  I had to laugh at it, because it said everything.  Coincidental parallels spring up in the most unassuming places.  I was tempted to tear out the page, but I won't forget it.  It doesn't matter that it was a jewelry ad, much less a Tiff one.  The ad could've been for cigarettes or deodorant; it was those words that resonated.  It's funny how life sometimes just jumps right out and says, "Yep, this is happening to you.  Deal with it."

I understand that the intention of the marketing for the Keys is to be romantic and intriguing... It is.  However, it also happens to be a little dangerous.  There are hidden meanings abounding in those six little lines.  Interesting that I found my truth in advertising.  I suppose it could be worse... It could've been a feminine product ad.  Thank Heaven for not slapping me with that parallel.  This girl has enough cargo without having to untangle the mysteries of tampon marketing and how it relates to my life.

For a girl who doesn't believe in much, I'll believe in Tiffany & Co.

Card-Carrying Member

I have a new card in my Coach wallet, which lives in my Louis Vuitton purse.  I carry that purse proudly on an arm that also sports a tried-and-true, been-through-the-mill, never-goes-out-of-style Ladies Oyster Perpetual DateJust (stainless and gold, natch).  For those of you not in the know, that's a Rolex.  The shoes on my feet are 90% of the time designer, and my jewelry is either real or designer costume.  I'm by no means a snob, I just like my shit nice.  I block out the hate with Coach sunglasses (which are in need of an upgrade, I was thinking Gucci).

This new card in the Coach wallet on my bedazzled arm is really, really bothering me.  Next to preferred member cards to a few swanky shops lies the utter bane (and savior) of my existence.  Public assistance.  I shiver at the thought.  I thought about downgrading out of the LV bag and into something a little less pretentious (say B.Makowsky) in case someone spies my freshly minted EBT card.  Then I thought better of it.  Fuck em.  I'm down on my luck, and who says I should have to put away my pretty things because of it?

I do feel a little like Old Dirty Bastard cashing my welfare check with a record deal, though.  Granted my food stamp card holds a mere $133 and I have no other means of buying food at this point (anyone who even thinks that I should pawn/sell/consign my luxury items should commence in a long walk off a short pier immediately), but I did have a wave of guilt slipping that card into a $1,500 purse.  Then again...  A girl's gotta eat.

Isn't it ironic?

The Oxford English Dictionary defines the word 'ironic' as the following:

ironic

/ironnik/

• adjective 1 using or characterized by irony. 2 happening in the opposite way to what is expected.

So according to the second part of this definition, a lot of what we consider irony in reality just, well, isn't. Take the line in good ole Alanis Morrisette's song (you may or may not have heard it) 'Isn't It Ironic', that quips, "It's like rain on your wedding day." This, in fact, is believed to be good luck. So by the definition of ironic, rain on your wedding day is happening in the way as to be expected, if indeed you were looking for good luck.

I've told you that to tell you this. It's about a cupcake. A beautiful, sexy, overpriced and organic cupcake from Whole Foods. I'm not going to get into my belief in organic food, slow food, farm-to-table eating or any other (you might call crazy) thoughts on American eating that I have. I'll save that for another day and another blog entry. It deserves its own time in the spotlight... Even here, where my spotlight is more like a flickering match in a hurricane. Anyway, this cupcake was singing its siren song to me from the cold case in the Whole Foods bakery last weekend. She was of the carrot cake persuasion, all decked out with a luscious, full mound of cream cheese frosting and walnuts. I couldn't resist the $4.00 price tag (for a Gorram cupcake). I had to have it. I had to know if it tasted as good as it looked... If the siren song she was singing was, indeed, worth the detour into the murky and treacherous waters of the bakery to pluck her out of the clutching, sugary masses and take home to sample. See for yourself, it was certainly a looker.


It was encased in a nifty plastic pod-like device, certainly crafted to show off the finer features of this cupcake's design. Notice the gold embellishment on the bottom for extra, 'I'm-Worth-The-Four-Bucks' effect.

This cupcake sucked. When I say sucked, I mean it sucked.

First of all, the green frosting used to make the leaf decoration was flavored with intense green tea flavoring. Maybe some people are into that. It tasted like grass. I don't want grass on my cupcake. It's dessert, not a wheat grass shooter. Secondly, the orange frosting used to make the carrot was flavored like orange-- as in the citrus. Not a good combo with cream cheese, carrots and green tea. The cream cheese frosting was hard, and to top it all off, the actual carrot cake was dry and bland.

This is the definition of ironic: A falsely advertised little jewel. It looked so luscious and lovely and I thought it would taste like Heaven. Instead, it turned out to leave me with a bad taste in my mouth.

I should have known, considering my best friend makes the world's most fabulous carrot cake. Why try to top perfection?

*Bonus points if you got the Gorram reference.