That Was Awkward pt. 3

1. Dressing rooms with no mirrors.

Why would you do this to me, cheap boutique on Melrose?
Only in this store would I try on a sequined bra and animal print mini skirt! There is no way in hell I am stepping out of this sheer curtained fitting room!

I have 2 day-no-shave white legs and I don't want to hear "Tammy" tell me how beyootifurr I look.
I know I look tacky and weird.
I'm 23 and having an identity crisis OKAY?! ( but thanks for the discount offer, Tamz)

I am now resorting to taking a picture of myself on my phone, with the shutter sound on high... because I never know how to turn that shit off.

PUT A MIRROR IN THERE, plz? and yes, receipt in the bag will be fine.


2. Running into acquaintances at the grocery store.

When I'm at the grocery store, I'm in the zone. I have my own special path I like to take so I don't forget any of the same 20 items I buy every two weeks.

I like to start at the hummus and cheese aisle, naturally.

I talk to myself a lot, but strictly about groceries. I like to read labels, count calories, and compare generic to name brand. Yep, I'm that girl who's in Ralph's for an hour and comes out with 3 bags. Half the time I wind up with a cart full of condiments and spices, and nothing to put them on.

Come on, I'm not gonna NOT buy pink sea salt!

Now that I've painted that picture for you, you can see how bumping into someone I "kind of know" could throw me out of bounds.

If I see the acquaintance first, I dodge them and scoot into the next aisle. Now, I have a constant peripheral scan for them until I check out aka hit the safe zone.

If it goes the other way... Obviously I'm going to be nice! Probably too nice.

Like... I'll get that "Oh my god! HAY! Whattt!?" voice going on; while pushing a cart that at this point only has powder bleach and mayonaise in it.

"What are you doing here?" might accidentally come out. (OBVI GROCERY SHOPPING, EDIE)

I could always go for the kill and comment on something they're buying.

"That toilet paper is the best, seriously."
"Grape tomatoes? Those look fun!"

Or,  I could take the pretentious hipster approach and say something like....

"I missed the farmer's market because brunch ran late"
"Whole Foods was too crowded"
"Isn't this place, SO funny?"


Just do me a favor and dodge me too.


3. Having someone run past you during a hike/jog/walk

I've been super into hiking Griffith and Runyon lately (just like every 20 something girl who can't afford a gym membership or Cardiobarre classes.) I have a "work-out" playlist that is loaded with pump-me-up jams that may also be known as top 20 hits.

So I've got Rihanna blastin', arms swingin' and I'm (probably) mouth breathing...

ZOOM! A d-bag in those stupid toe separating running shoes passes me on the left.

I'm a very space conscious person, buddy. If I'm not jogging or not keeping up to pace, I politely cling to the right.

Did you have to brush my shoulder going full speed!?

Ok ok... maybe I'm just embarrassed because you made me gasp like my mom does anytime I approach a stop sign or red light.

Orrrr because I was just singing the chorus to "Love You Like a Love Song" and thought I was a lone ranger on this Hollywood Hills trail.

Either way, you couldn't have taken it down to 6 mph or veered to the far left? (or waited till the song changed?)

4. Accidentally "liking" something on Facebook or Instagram.

Lord Jesus, this is giving me panic hands just typing it.

The accidental "like"... So it's Wednesday night and you're scrolling through your news feeds and someone catches your eye.

Me: Is that Ryan from 10th grade Bio?

tap tap tap

Me: He got SO cute! He has a girlfriend? Ew.

Me: IT'S TRACY MACNAMARA? I wonder if she ever got fat...?

taps one too many times

Me: SHITFUCKBALLS!@#$%

Congratulations, you just hearted a picture of Tracy and Ryan holding margaritas.

#idiot #stalker #FML #heytracy

Do I unlike it? How do I unlike something? Maybe I'll just leave it and be nice. Maybe I should just delete my Instagram.

OR UPLOAD A PICTURE OF THIS AWESOME SANDWICH I JUST MADE.

5. Buying something from the "embarrassing aisle" at CVS

Maybe some of you don't have to deal with this because you don't live near the ghetto where normal items are locked up in a glass case...

If you do, you know the aisle I'm talking about... it's just beyond the deodorant and razors. This is a place no girl wants to be.

That's right, the family planning aisle.

You tracked down an employee and now you're standing in front of the glass case of shame. No words are ever exchanged, only a quick arm extension and grab.

Come on CVS, do the cashier AND the sales associate need to know what kind of condoms I prefer? Maybe these 3 magazines and nail polish will distract them. Screw it... might as well pick up some super tampons and cat food while I'm here. Oh, and these reeces pieces too.

XOXO

Always Awkward Edie

Baby Got Dumped

Another tale from a shameless past...


Long ago I lived in a magical land. One of glitter, smiles, wigs, and wildly handsome young men.

(Oh west hollywood, how I miss you... betch.)

During my last year of living in the land of rainbows I was in a committed relationship (lol, i know right?)




Ben and I were happy as happy can be in a long distance relationship, with trust issues...the 3rd time around.

Third time's a charm, right? RIGHT!

He had come to visit during his spring break and I had planned us a weekend full of couple fun. We saw a movie. We window shopped on Melrose, whilst holding hands. I cooked him a romantic dinner and bought beautiful new lingerie, all charged on my nearly maxed out Capital One "no hassles" card.

I woke Saturday morning feeling blissful, wrapped in his arms. The sun made everything dreamy and yellow meringue. We had yet to have a fight.



Ben and I spent Saturday watching reruns of The Office, eating grilled cheese sandwiches and doin' thangz (sorry bout' it). We even had a discussion about "our" plans after he graduated.

Had the planets aligned?
Was I dreaming?
Is this really Ben?! I thought as I watched him do dishes, shirtless with careless hair. It was him, and we were seriiiii gonna get married!

That evening my bff Jackie came over for drinks. I stuck to white wine, while she and Ben enjoyed a plastic bottle of Old Crow whiskey and coke (Ben's choice).
"Like a Virgin", "Karma Chameleon", and Kelly Clarkson's "Since U Been Gone" played through my open window from Santa Monica Boulevard.

It was karaoke night at my fave gay bar! Being a bottle of wine deep, karaoke sounded like an awesome end to our night.

After forcing Ben to put on some shoes and a shirt, the three of us made the 20 steps to the bar. (This place was so close I would use my OWN bathroom when I'd go there).

The bouncer greeted Jackie and me with his pet name for us "Double Trouble". We skipped up to the bar to look at the song list. We collectively agreed on Sir Mixalot's "Baby Got Back". The Cher impersonator judge would agree that our song choice would be lyrically challenging, but indeed a crowd pleaser.



Ben ordered us a round of vodka sodas as we danced and swayed to boys belting out Katy Perry and drag queens doing better versions of "Bad Romance" and "Poker Face" then Gaga herself.

Jackie chatted up one of the beefcake bartenders, disregarding his love of penis... while Ben and I shared a bar stool.

God damn it I was so happy! I had my best friend, my cute apartment in the gayborhood, my beautiful boyfriend and I was about to perform "Baby Got Back" in a bar filled with other happy people, and "Cher".


I grabbed Ben's face in my hands and kissed his forehead.

Ben shot back the rest of his drink. He looked into the empty glass, waiting for more vodka to appear.

"Edie..." he said, still focused on the melting ice.

"Yes my love?" I replied wincing at the watery end of my own drink.

"I can't do this."

I smiled at him and laughed loudly.



"Yes you can! everyone knows this song, we're going to kick ass!"

He shook his head and looked at me with black eyes.

"No, I can't do this."

My head spun and I suddenly felt every sip of every drink I'd had that night. My mouth watered like I was about to vomit and my eyes stung with salt water.

"What do you mean, you can't do this?" I clenched my jaw... please still mean the song, we can pick a different song!

"I just... I don't love you like I used to. I don't think we should be together anymore"


my vision blurred and my face grew hot.

"EDIE YOU'RE UP!!! EDIE AND FRIENDS IT'S YOUR TIII-OMMMEEE" Cher belted into the microphone.




Jackie smiled at me from across the bar and I looked at her with tear goggles and a furrowed brow. She looked at Ben who was now ordering another drink for himself.

She pushed through a crowd of boys and grabbed my hand. There were no words between us. Only a slitting throat motion with her thumb across her neck and a firm point to Ben's back. We approached the stage, my head still spinning.

"OH MY GOD BECKY LOOK AT HER BUTT, IT IS SO BIG. SHE LOOKS LIKE ONE OF THOSE RAP GUYS' GIRLFRIENDS."


By the second chorus I realized I had sung not a single word. I stood in place watching Jackie drop it like it was hot and snapped out of it.

"LITTLE IN THE MIDDLE BUT SHE GOT MUCH BACK" is all I was able to get out, and I repeated it 3 times too many. When the song ended crickets chirped. the bar tender clapped and I mic-dropped like I was Jay Z at Madison Square Garden.

Jackie and I hurried outside to smoke so I could attempt to explain what I thought had just happened.

"What do you mean he can't do this?" Jackie said arms in the air, smoke blowing furiously from her mouth. "Did he mean the song!? I didn't realize he was so set on "Break Stuff"...I mean I just don't know if I could have captured Limp Biskit's stage presence"

i shook my head and we decided it was time to get the hell out of there. Now that I was over the initial shock that I had just been dumped in a gay bar, on drag night... I sat next to Ben. Jackie tried to pull me away, but I was cemented to that bar stool.

"So we're done, huh? that's it? BABY GOT DUMPED?"



Ben said nothing.

"You couldn't have done it before I spent $50 on slutty H&M underwear?"

The shirtless beefcake bartender slid me a glass of ice water.

"You ordered another drink?" Ben asked.

"NO... HE GOT ME A WATER!" I high-fived the bartender while choking back angry toddler-like sobs.

"HE GOT HER A WATER!" Jackie shouted in Ben's face.

The poor guy probably just wanted my hot mess self out of there. Jackie and I were finger pointing and head bobbing like Bad Girl's cast members.
I headed out the door leaving Jackie and Ben behind me. I stormed into my apartment and ripped off my clothes while walking to my bedroom.

In a matching black bra and underwear I threw a blanket and pillow at Ben onto the couch. I slammed my bedroom door and begged silently for someone to come wake me up from the mellow dramatic nightmare I had just experienced. I stayed awake until 4 am waiting for Ben to come knocking on my door to say sorry. All I wanted was for him to crawl into my twin bed, hold me and say sorry.

It was that easy, Ben.

The morning came and hit me hard. My head was fuzzy and my stomach was in knots. Chills covered my lingerie clad body as I lay alone. I crept into the living room and saw Ben asleep, the plastic handle of whiskey next to him... as I had wished to be. I shook him awake.

"Did you really break up with me last night?"

"...in a gay bar, on drag-karaoke night?"

Ben groaned and looked at me with one eye still shut.

"Yeah, i did."

Resisting every urge I had to choke him to death or cut off his penis with a plastic knife, I took the high rode and told him to "Get the f#$% up and get the f*&^% out"

I shut the door, just missing his head and went back to bed. I listened to "Linger" by the Cranberries and Mazzy Star (Every girl knows, the sadder the song, the better sad feels.)



My phone rang... Ben!?

No it was Jackie, and she was forcing me to get up and go to Venice Beach for a day of french fries, margaritas and good old fashioned man-hating.

I probably would have melted into my bed forever if it weren't for her.

2 weeks later, Ben called begging for forgiveness, saying he had made a huge mistake and he wanted to start over.

(so we did... again. womp womp)



It was a learning experience, and a hilarious one if I do say so.


Although "Baby Got Back" and karaoke all together has been ruined for me, it only brings a chance for redemption.



XOXO LA face with an Oakland booty,

EDIE

Exactly What I Want

I've written quite a few posts on the topic of "being single" and being okay with it.

And i was... until i started dating again.

So I've been back in the game for a few months now. I've been on some dates, a few "hang outs". there were one or two nights where i got too tipsy and starting taking "couple pics" with a dude I had met 3 hours prior (coughcoughthisweekendcough).



They were all fun and learning experiences, if you want to get technical and mom-ish with it.

But I don't want to get technical and mom-ish with it, I want to get REAL.

Mid Griffith park hike yesterday, I began to think about the handful of lovely young men I have had the pleasure of semi-romantically courting this past winter. I started to get get angry with myself because I thought, all I've wanted out of this whole single girl journey is to meet someone happy, healthy and available... and I've met several of them!

I could be with someone right this minute, I thought as I trudged past a group of asian hikers wearing SARS masks. We could totally be hiking together (even though I'd be trying really hard not to mouth-breathe and have runny eyeliner). I reached the top of the hill and saw couples sitting on the park benches gazing out at los angeles (through a thick layer of smog, of course). To avoid vomiting and a tourettes inspired outburst I ran back down the trail with frustration tears in my eyes.



My life was a lot easier when I didn't know exactly what I wanted out of it.

Meaning, I could truly couple up with any dude if i didn't have this new crazy long list of standards and qualifications my brain has developed when choosing a mate. (ok, so i totally have it written down in a notebook too. every girl must do this).

I'm going to over-share and over-expose myself with the list.

(keep in mind that some of these qualifications may seem over-the-top and snobbish, but I've worked way too hard on myself in the last year, NOT to have someone meet them, bitch.)




1. funny
2, kind
3. well mannered
4. witty
5. creative
6. intelligent
7. compassionate
8. somewhat cultured
9. positive
10. a conversationalist
11. healthy
12. respectful
13. has a job and/or is aspiring towards his dream career
14. social
15, can stay up late with me (forever a night owl)
16. lives in LA or close to the LA area
17. can keep his jealousy on lock-down
18. financially independent
19. loves his mom (i've been with a dude with mom issues, it isn't a good time)



20. loves animals (i know most guys hate cats, but you have to pretend to like mine)
21. plans things on his own/takes me on proper dates.
22. kisses my forehead



23. enjoys reading, writing, or watching movies (no, not like avatar.)
24, honest
25. has his own place. (if i do... i would like you to as well. I don't want to have to creep out in the morning and avoid your mom)
26. available (this one may seem like a given, but some guys just aren't. whether it be emotionally or physically)


there you have it! my check off list. even typing it just now i thought to myself, this is so stupid.

BUT ITS NOT!

why shouldn't I be with a guy who is all of those things? why settle for something mediocre only to have to call it off a few months down the road.

After listening to some bullshit woman empowering songs on the drive home, and a few "im so done with boys." texts to my best friend, i calmed down and saw the truth in my frustration.

I HAVE REAL STANDARDS AND RESPECT FOR MYSELF!
who knew!

Yes, i still crave male attention and affection terribly. hence, my liquor induced shenanigans.
At least now i know that my body and mind truly won't let me settle down with anyone i don't want to be with, and that's a huge accomplishment coming from the flavor of the week queen.

i can deal with getting lonely occasionally, over being in a relationshit.

DATZ RIGHT.

plus...i'm having way too much fun being a full time friend, and i have tons of time and brain space to focus on my "other project"!






XOXOX

Edie

Contacting Ms. Coppola

if sofia coppola directed my life...

i would look natural and doe-eyed with petal pink cheeks and lips. i'd have careless wavy hair, with fly-aways that caught the wind.

everything in my closet would look like a valentine... empire waist dresses the colors of candy hearts, and trimmed with lace. i'd admire each one while standing in a delicate lingerie set and sipping a cup of tea (in a real tea-cup).



i'd live off of macaroons and champagne with raspberries.


the perfect soundtrack would play to the dull and the epic moments of my life. new order and french pop would follow me as i walked through charming city streets as pixels of sunlight danced off of my hair.

i'd lay on the wood floor of my quaint apartment underneath an antique chandelier, amongst stacks of old books and votives filled with peonies.

i'd slow-blink for hours, having over the top hero and heroine fantasies about the gentleman i desire (who also slow-blinks, at me).



alas...

i am coppola-less.

most mornings i wake up wearing a cat-hat, which is an actual living cat curled on top of my head.

(i'm glad morgan freeman and i have the same problem)

i apply the same winged eyeliner i've been wearing for 10 years, that still takes me 3 tries on my left eye. my lips are a pale shade of dr. pepper lipsmacker, because its the shit and i'm still 14.
my careless wavy hair goes every which way until i decide to stick 27 bobby pins in it in defeat.



everything in my closet is either black white or grey or was a random "omg i need this" sequined purchase from forever21. i stare at them in confusion in a neon colored bra and random thong while sipping the remainder of coffee out of my huge FIDM mug.

if i lived off macaroons and champagne with raspberries i'd be fat, but probably a lot of fun. instead, i eat the same salad with far too much balsamic vinegar every day, and love it.
new order and french pop play in my head as i walk through the streets of los angeles. i try to drown out the sounds of hipsters discussing kale and coachella, homeless men asking for change and the occasional "DAYUM GIRL" from classy men who pass me by.



pixels of sunlight dance off my hair and a hazy cloud of smog surrounds me.

i lay on the floor of my quaint apartment underneath a chandelier from urban outfitters, amongst stacks of old magazines, scribbled in notebooks and mix matched scented candles.

i slow-blink for about 15 minutes and have an innocent fantasy of staying in bed all day with the guy i wish i could have.




XOX

Edie

Mr. Nice Guy

remember in english class when teachers would outlaw certain words from essays? they were usually

-good
-cool
-stuff

and


NICE.

nice... is a generic word that you can use to describe most anything.
its what you say when you don't have anything "nice" to say about someone.

and in my book.... nice guys always finished last.

finding a nice guy, has sadly never been a priority in my life.

"he's sooo nice" has never escaped my mouth when describing a guy i'm truly into.

for as long as i can remember i've had the biggest girl boner for fixer-uppers, bad boys, and brooding young men. they've always seemed more appealing (exciting) then the syrupy-sweet boy next door type. while many girls were lusting over Michael Mcfootball and John Goodgraderson. i wanted smokey joe and sketchy steve.



its been almost a year to the day since my tumultuous and life changing break up, and almost 2 months since the end up my 6 month dating hiatus. after being with a dude who would start a belligerent drunk fight with me, call me names, and spoon me all before 10 am...



the new me, decided i deserved a nice-guy.


so i met a few nice guys...

nice guys think you're so sweet
nice guys think you're smart
nice guys call
nice guys send smiley faces at the end of texts
nice guys smile at everything you say
nice guys don't care when you role your eyes at them
nice guys won't say anything when you hook up with someone else
nice guys leave you alone when you stop calling them
nice guys are
just
so
fucking
nice.

i had almost thrown in the towel and decided i should probably just audition for bad boys 3.



one fateful night ...
i had been invited out by one of my gilfriends to a hole in the wall bar in west hollywood; complete with wood paneling and b list actor's autographs on the walls. we were over-dressed but loved the tacky atmosphere and ordered some drinks. i noticed a guy sitting by himself eating nachos and drinking a martini. i thought "wow. thats either the saddest thing i've seen in a bar, or the most bad-ass."

i carried on in conversation, still stealing glances at nachotini. i'm a people-watcher and a story teller and this guy was good material. i finished my drink and stepped outside to have a cigarette. i dug around in my bag for a lighter and heard someone else step outside.

it was the lone ranger himself. the flicker of his lighter was the go-ahead for me to give up my endless purse-dig.

"i'm so sorry, but can i use your lighter?"

"why would you ever be sorry about that?"

i laughed at the truth in it, and his sincerity. i awkwardly backed away and avoided eye-contact. you know... that squint into the distance and then check your phone move, like you're expecting someone you know to pull up.

" you were laughing at me in there weren't you?" he said through a half smile.

"what? no ! i was just jealous of those awesome nachos you ordered"

"so you were laughing" he replied with his eyebrows raised.

he totally caught me and i loved it. we exchanged names, small talked about stupid LA stuff that LA people always find necessary to discuss. i found out he was a writer for late night, talk shows and a few other things.

we went inside and parted ways. a few moments later the bar tender told me that someone had bought me a drink. it was nachotini at the end of the bar. he was now surrounded by friends and had a genuine smile on his face and two drinks in hand.

we sat together at a table and talked until last call. this guy was legit! he had a job, car, apartment, cats, loved his family, no girlfriend, and looked disease free. not once in our conversation did he mention an ex or drug habits. he asked me interesting questions and DIDN'T agree with everything i said.




THIS WAS A REAL LIFE NICE- GUY! he hailed me a cab, got my phone number and kissed me on the cheek goodbye.

i literally told the cab driver the entire story i just told you.

i went to sleep that night excited for my nice-guy phone call that would occur within the week.

but guess what

HE NEVER FUCKING CALLED.



so now i'm in this total world of confusion not just because of this one nacho eating doucher, but because i still have NO IDEA of what a genuine nice guy is like!

WHERE ARE THEY
UNDER SOME CARE-BEAR SHAPED ROCK?

until then...

bad bad bad bad boys you make me feel so good

xoxo Edie

Sick With It

in a world full of girl problems there seems to be a rise in the following epidemics


chronic bitch face


if you are suffering from chronic bitch face people may tell you the following :
" i thought you were SO mean before i met you"
" what's wrong?"
" what's your problem?"
"don't you ever smile?"



YES. YES I DO SMILE.
my face just tragically hangs this way. i've suffered from chronic bitch face for as long as i can remember. is it my fault i was born with a down turned mouth? i'm sorry my brow naturally furrows when i'm thinking about my dinner choice for the night or if i remembered to turn off the coffee maker.

chronic bitch face may result in never getting asked out, making instant enemies with other females or dirty looks from strangers.

If you come across someone with CBF don't take their dead eyes and sad-clown mouth to heart. try actually making them smile!

cures for chronic bitch face include:

botox
multiple/daily orgasms.
learning how to smeyes (smile with your eyes- tyra banks ANTM 2008)
duct tape.
puppies
medicinal marijuana


-party pose-imia


ever scroll through a girl's facebook pictures and notice she's doing the same open mouthed hand the in the air move in every shot? doesn't matter if she's holding a solo cup or has her arm around her great uncle dwight, that girl looks like she's on her third drink and is DTF.

other symptoms include, flashing gang signs, pursing lips together "duck mouth", limp wrist-question hand, "woooo!" face.

this disease makes me miss the good old fashioned myspace mirror shot.


cures for party pose-imia:

close your mouth
smile like a normal human
lower your arm
maybe not drink so much (jk, lolz)
when a camera appears, pretend like its your future boyf (not your beer pong partner/ one night stizzy) and smile at it like a lady.





-cant take a complimentitis

i think almost every girl i know is infected with this virus.

symptoms for can't take a complimentitis include:

making excuses for why your hair looks like it does,that you had no time to get dressed,you're so fat etc.
making a disgusted face when someone pays you a compliment
saying "ew are you serious?" as a response to a compliment
over analyzing if the person who gave the compliment, truly meant it.




TAKE THE COMPLIMENT.

just do it. seriously, if the person took the time to process the thoughts and words to tell you something nice, acknowledge it. especially if its a DUDE. every time you reject a compliment its like telling him he's an idiot for ever thinking such a thing. give the guy some validation.

and while you're at it...

allow yourself to feel good for 2 seconds out of the day.
thank the person, genuinely

(even if there is no way in hell your disastrous hair/skin/outfit/makeup/nail polish/perfume/eyelashes/freckles etc couldn't ever be anything other then "EW NO"


-he's like my brother-eria

i can't tell you how many girls i've met who have described one of their guy friends, boyfriend's friends, or friend's boyfriend as their "brother".

really... he's like your brother?

do you sit on your brothers lap and flirt with him shamelessly?
did you almost kiss your brother once when you guys were tOtAlLy WaStEd?
does your brother just SO GET YOU?




then you have one special-ass brother and you should probably be hiding out in a swamp somewhere down south.

"he's like my brother" is like saying,

"i wouldn't do him unless i was really drunk, or if you weren't around/ no one would find out."

it's the slutty girls' get out of jail free card when they start getting inapproriate with a guy they aren't supposed to.

example :

SARA: it kind of freaked me out when you were sitting on zach's lap.. i know we're broken up, but still.

JENNA "SISTER": OMG sara... seriiii, zach is like my brother.

SARA: oh good that makes it okay!

JENNA: bffs?

SARA: BFFZ!

cue jenna making out with zach 3 weeks later when she "didn't even realize what was happening".




i can say that i have fallen victim to this sickness at one time or another.... and the guy who was "like my brother" ended up being the dude i cheated on one of my boyfriends with and then dated for multiple years.

cures to he's like my brother-eria:

recognize your behavior as inapproprate
decide whether or not you would consider sleeping with this person (this decision is the moment of brotherly truth)


even if your answer is no... his might be yes, so he's still not your brother.


don't forget your vitamins!

XOX

your webmd-edie

Holiday Blues

ever have those mornings...


where your dreams weren't quite nightmares and even though all you wanted to do was get out of them; you hit snooze 6 times to try and dream up something better?

my coffee maker decided to brew what tasted like water and a hint of ass... and it spilled on me multiple times upon pouring and sipping.

while getting dressed i realized i was far too bloated to wear something that would give me any sort of attractive shape. i resorted to leggings i've worn 4-5 times without washing, a raggedy h&m sale tee , 2 different socks (one ankle, one boot), the same black boots i wear every day, and to pull it all together i piled my unwashed hair on top of my head into a chic messy bun.

what the eff is wrong with me this morning?

on my way to work i hear a jingle jingle jingle coming from the speakers of my car.

it's chris brown.. and he's singing about the holidays ya'll

i quickly check my phone.

december 11th. holy shit, christmas is in two weeks.

(throws cooler through window and punches imaginary rihanna)





my brain started racing through all of the people i have to buy gifts for, how many days off i have until then, the lack of money in my bank account and how i totally missed the chance to drive home to help my mom decorate our house and tree (which is our thing).

stress tears welled in my eyes, you know... the really hot ones that blind you?




i know i know first world problems...

but really, i was bummin' out.

i had the christmas blueeeeeez

-POSSIBLE REASONS FOR CHRISTMAS BLUES:

-working retail

i wake up, head straight to work, ring and wrap customer's gifts, deal with their holiday stress and hand them back their shiny AMEX with a 100000 dollar limit.

"can you use more ribbon?"

"i need all of these wrapped individually"

"how can you be out of that?"

"do you have any more of these in the back"

"I'M REALLY IN A RUSH"







-you're in a glass case of emotion

any childhood memory you have of christmas, good or bad is filtering through your brain. this sort of nostalgia makes me want to sip my wine through a crazy straw, straight out of the bottle.



today was one of those days...


- all i want for christmas is you

i totally wish i had someone to watch christmas vacation with and buy cheesy christmas lingerie for. don't get me wrong, i love spooning with my favorite feather pillow at night...but i would not complain if it morphed into a warm shirtless dude overnight.

(i'd bake you so many cookies, boo.)




-lookin' like death


i've lost pretty much all pigment to my skin and feel like frumplestilsken in my last season winter clothes.

and what's up with my bangs this entire month? they look an old-timey mustache that got cut in half.





wah wah wah i can't go on like this!

so i'm sick of this debbie downer attitude. what oh what do i do to snap out of it?



i bought myself a strand of lights, a couple cinnamon scented candles and a box of candy canes. i watched a hallmark christmas movie and made myself a hot toddy. i wrote out a gift list and a budget. i even listened to christmas music while i made dinner.



(mariah carey's "merry christmas" album is a staple. i also downloaded the new she and him christmas album, which is pretty damn precious)

i also bought christmas cards and wrote them out to people who wouldn't expect them.

i felt like a total cheeseball and relished every moment.

i realized i needed to take a breather and CTFD... its christmas and it always ends up being magic and cookies and all of that other bullshit, no matter what.


if you're suffering from a case of the HB's (i realize this sounds like a venereal disease)

cheer up and go buy yourself some champagne and a poinsettia plant.

you're feeling festive already aren't you??


xoxoxo

Edie