The Lana You Love to Hate

One Saturday night last January, I was curled up on my couch with my cats and a glass of wine watching SNL. We are big fans (yes I just included my  cats as part of that we). It was Kristen Wiigs last season and I couldn't miss a single episode!

After the opening sketch and the famous LIVE FROM NEW YORK line was shouted, the musical guest was announced. It was the infamous internet sensation "Lana Del Rey". When she came to the stage I rolled my eyes.

I watched as the spot lights gleamed over her perfectly volumized retro-inspired hair. Her lips were in an exaggerated pout (duck face) and she stood statuesque in a cream lace dress. A harp began to pluck a few somber cords.

Lana began to sing...and dance in a way that I can only describe as car-less car-dancing. You know ... where you have little motion and you think you're in a live music video. It was 4 minutes of constant swaying, hair touching, slow blinking and pouting. Oh, and maybe a few Stevie Nicks inspired hand swirls. My mouth hung open in shock. I felt like i was watching a girl sing into her mirror with a hair brush!

I frantically googled and you-tubed this so called up-and-coming phenomenon. The backlash from her performance  had already begun on twitter (which I only use when celebrity beefs/scandals/shenanigans are going down). I read blogs upon blogs about how "Lana Del Rey" was really Lizzy Grant. I read about how she was nothing more then a " wannabe indie star" a "youtube whore" a "hipster douche bag". I was like dang bloggers, ya'll don't like this girl? ME EITHER! She made Ashlee Simpson and her wrong-song-jig look GOOD.

For the months proceeding I would roll my eyes and ugh in disgust when one of her songs would come on at work. When girls would post her videos and photos on tumblr or FB I would gag in protest. How could anyone listen to this fake bougie indie princess!?


and then....

I heard "Ride".

I was in the winter of my life, and the men I met along the road were my only summer.
At night I fell asleep with visions of myself, dancing and laughing and crying with them.
Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour, and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times.
I was a singer - not a very popular one,
I once had a dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events some of those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.
But I didn't really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is.
When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I'd been living, they asked me why - but there's no use in talking to people who have home.
They have no idea what it's like to seek safety in other people - for home to be wherever you lay your head.
I was always an unusual girl.
My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean...
And if I said I didn't plan for it to turn out this way I'd be lying...
Because I was born to be the other woman.
I belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone.
Who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn't even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.

I've been out on that open road
You can be my full time, daddy
White and gold
Singing blues has been getting old
You can be my full time, baby
Hot or cold

Don't break me down
I've been travelin' too long
I've been trying too hard
With one pretty song

I hear the birds on the summer breeze, I drive fast
I am alone in the night
Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble, but I
I've got a war in my mind
So, I just ride
Just ride, I just ride, I just ride

Dying young and I'm playing hard
That's the way my father made his life an art
Drink all day and we talk 'til dark
That's the way the road dogs do it, ride 'til dark.

Don't leave me now
Don't say good bye
Don't turn around
Leave me high and dry

I hear the birds on the summer breeze, I drive fast
I am alone in the night
Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble, but I
I've got a war in my mind
I just ride
Just ride, I just ride, I just ride

I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy
I'm tired of driving 'til I see stars in my eyes
It's all I've got to keep myself sane, baby
So I just ride, I just ride

I hear the birds on the summer breeze, I drive fast
I am alone in the night
Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble, but I
I've got a war in my mind
I just ride
Just ride, I just ride, I just ride

Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people, and finally I did on the open road.
We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore, except to make our lives into a work of art.
Live fast. Die young. Be wild. And have fun.
I believe in the country America used to be.
I believe in the person I want to become.
I believe in the freedom of the open road.
And my motto is the same as ever:
"I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I’m at war with myself I ride, I just ride."
Who are you?
Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?
Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?
I have. I am fucking crazy.
But I am free.

Obvi, I didn't expect you to read the whole thing but TELL ME that opening line didn't make you clutch your chest! 

What girl doesn't want to post a line or two of this as their instagram "about me". 

I must have listened to "Ride" about 75 times in one day. I'm not kidding, I get that way with songs. (I'm still getting over " I dreamed a dream" in Les Miserables)

John Travolta saying Les Miserables

I watched the video over and over and admired her soft curls, perfect eyebrows and full lips. I suddenly had an urge to run out and buy cut offs and red chucks. 

I wanted to be Lana. 

After my Ride obsession came "National Anthem". The video to this song is really what sold me. Not only is she portraying a Jackie-O/Marilyn character; but her John F. Kennedy is A$AP Rocky. 

After "National Anthem" came "Radio", "American","Mountain Dew","Summertime Sadness" etc.

I was obsessed.

Get ready for work: Lana

Drive to work: Lana

Work all day: Lana

Drive to boyfriend in the Valley: Lana

Go to sleep: Lana

THAT BITCH IS LIKE THE PLAGUE. I began to think about why I hated her so much in the past and was a little embarriii when I realized it was mostly because dumb internet trolls told me to. 

I absolutely fell in love with her lyrics. Who else can tell you to "be young be dope be proud" looking like she does?

She's gorgeous and she isn't a rail thin make-me-feel-like-a-moose, girl. She has that 1960s mod steezy and she's friends with rappers.  

I CAN'T HATE HER!

Kristen Wiig's weekend update skit proceeding Lana's performance truly says it all.

(use this hulu link because I can't post it on the site!)

Kristen As Lana

If you were a hater before I hope you can now see a little light and the end of the tunnel...

(where all of the little hipster babies are wearing flower crowns and pointy fake nails)

(I still hate them; kinda)

IN LANA WE TRUST.

xoxo 

Edie Del Rey 

What's-her-face

Ex girlfriend...Why do you have to be all up in my boyfriend's past? 

It's so rude and inconsiderate of you! I mean really, didn't you know you two weren't right for each other? I can tell just by the sound of your name (that I choose to mispronounce) that you were bad news and probably obnoxious.

Now that I know about your existence, I feel the need to find out everything I can about you through social networking. 

Wait, do you spell your annoying name with a K or C... is there a silent J in there or something?  You know, I don't really have time for this. You're keeping me from folding laundry, doing my yoga DVD, writing in my blog (what up), and cleaning my room. 

Hey ex girlfriend...are you new to Facebook? Don't you know how to make your pictures private?

It says you have 203 profile pictures but I can only see 5... okay so you know how to block 198 of them.

um...

a.) Who has 203 profile pictures?

b.) Why do I care?

c.) You kind of look pretty in the 3rd one, therefore I hate you more then I did 2 clicks ago.

d.) Do you have an instagram...

We've all experienced this sort of behavior at some point or another. It's just what happens when you find out a guy you're head over heels for was at one time; head over heals for someone else. (how in the world, right? I know.)

Even if he's just a crush, as girls; we are programmed this way. We are comparers to the third degree. 

This "curiosity" we develop is highly infectious like that awful 24 hour flu; and it leaves a taste in your mouth worse then a margarita hangover. 

I caught the ex gf bug a few months ago when I stumbled upon something of hers lingering in my boyfriend's dresser drawer. I was packing him a change of clothes while he was at work, not snooping (swearzies). I opened the drawer and grabbed a fresh shirt. As I shoved the random socks and tees back in place, something pink caught my eye. 

I sat on the bed and crossed my arms. He definitely isn't one of those ironic pink shirt wearing guys, I thought to myself...If I don't look now I'll only want to look next time, and that would be snooping, right? 

I picked the wadded up fabric with my thumb and forefinger as if it were covered in sloozy bitch face germs and placed it on the bed. A familiar figure began to take form as I smoothed out the wrinkles (still with just the tips of my forefingers).

Hello Kitty. 

Ugh! She would wear an effing Hello Kitty tee shirt. That little cat bitch stared up at me smirking as I went from sweet and innocent girlfriend who packs overnight bags, to 50 shades of cray cray. I smashed the shirt deep into the drawer, after I checked the size tag of course. I drove home from my boyfriend's house in a funk. Every radio station was playing a Flo Rida song and every car that passed me was ironically littered to Hello Kitty decals. 

Not being a characteristically jealous person, I was confused by my sudden mood swing. Sure, I'd asked about her before... but seeing her clothing made her real. So the frenzy began. I saw a few pictures of her. Discovered she had way bigger boobs then me and didn't smile in pictures. I made a few snide comments to myself and then grew restless looking at a girl who ultimately meant nothing to me and my relationship.

I confessed my discovery of the shirt and my investigation to my boyfriend sometime the next week with my tail between my legs. Surprisingly, he laughed about it and assured me that I was everything he could ever want or need in a woman and it took having a girl like her to help him see that. 

So I guess I should say thanks, betch.

I mean after all, I'm an ex girlfriend to someone too.

( As an ex gf I give permission to any current gf to throw out any tee shirt, pair of pjs, sweatshirt etc. of mine that you find. annnd to stalk me on my social networks)

XOXOX

Edie

Two Months Later...

Hey remember me ?

That totally heart broken/soul searching/quirky single- girl with a funky flare for over sharing to an internet audience? 

Yeah I almost forgot she existed too... because I've been too busy being that head over heels/bubbly/content relationship girl. 

you're so telling me to shut up right now, aren't you. 

Ugh you guys, this is serious business. I can't remember the last time I put on my Adele playlist and cried in the middle of my living room floor. The 7/11 guys on Wilshire and Wilton must be worried sick about me. Their Barefoot pinot grigio stock is probably collecting dust. My writing has been cock blocked!!

For the life of me,  I can't seem to conjure up any combination of words to describe how effing normal and happy my life has been the last few months (without feeling like a douchebag).

Writing to you all for the past 2 years has been a form a therapy. A safe place to write and rant about the highs, the lows and the LOLZ of my solo life. 

It's like when I met him that lonely door inside my brain got kicked shut. Then an uplifting Kelly Clarkson song started playing and the credits began to roll as my boyfriend and I kissed in studio made rain. 

Well, that's how it would go if this was an Emma Stone movie. 

Who knew being totally blissed out  could make my "problems" seem insignificant... and leave me with absolutely no idea what to write about! 

Friends suggested to me that I try to write like I had, but fictionalize the events . So I tried that... and I hated it. I hated it so much. I always try to write as honest as possible to you guys, with the exception of changing names so I don't jeopardize anybody's  reputation with a scandalous story. 

Writing fiction like it was my own life felt like I had put on my panties backwards, just wrong. 

Okay, I can do this... I'll just write about being in a relationship. Easy enough right? I mean for god sake I can sure talk about it all day long (my besties and coworkers know this, love ya guys)

wrong again. 

This is all still relatively new and intimate. 

Yeah yeah yeah I guess I'm in the  "honeymoon phase", you old long term relationshippers love to tell me that! 

sorry I'm not sorry about that part. 

So what now? Time for some re-invention I guess. 

This site needs a makeover as well! Time to get my twitterpated  booty to work. 

Thanks for understanding and loving me still...

YOU STILL LOVE ME, RIGHT?

XOXOX

Your long lost lover,

Edie

So Long Sweet Summer

Hi my darlings,

I miss you all! I know I've been sort of MIA this summer and there is no real excuse other then I've been having one of the busiest and most random summers of my life.

 When I wrote the post "Ex-tacy" http://ohediedarling.blogspot.com/2012/06/ex-tacy.htm

I was battling with some left over, cold-pizza feelings. You know.... where that pizza has been sitting in the box a little too long, but you still want to eat it at 7 am?

I felt lonely, sad and over-all curious about what my  ex boyfriend had been up to the last two years. I had just attempted "dating" and was sorely let down by a guy who I still suspect to be gay.

I gave up on my 3 year crush on a guy who insinuated he might give me a chance if he broke up with his girlfriend....

I had just watched one of my best friends get married.

I had given up on the idea of ever being in a relationship again... let alone falling in love.

I mean, when you come home to two beautiful black cats every night and have an imaginary relationship with Aaron Paul from Breaking Bad, who needs a boyfriend.

YEAH BITCH!

I cried on the phone to my mom about how confused I was. I cried because I couldn't understand why the only love I had ever known was one that came with consequences, lying, screaming and far too many "I'm sorry's".

She cried too.

With puffy eyes and Dashboard on full blast (where do you think I got this clever title, haters?)
I searched the internet for an escape. If I didn't do something quick, I'd end up in the mental hospital... or back in a relationship that broke my heart into a million pieces, several times.

A few clicks later, I booked a trip to the mountains to visit one of my dearest friends/sisters.

Obviously I put it on a credit card, and took time off or work that I couldn't afford. I just had to, whether it be by plane or Thelma and Louise style off a cliff.

After almost falling down the jet-way from stepping on my maxi skirt (snuggie), I boarded the tiny plane that would whisk me away to a little mountain town. I read Cosmopolitan in anticipation. I was so relieved to be flying away from the reality of everything and my almost mistakes.

My girlfriend picked me up and I could feel something strange and foreign enter my lungs, fresh air. We were so happy to be spending time together as two single ladies. My first night in town we went to a street fair.  I was surrounded by pine trees and hundreds of BOYS. I have never seen so many 20-something good looking dudes in one town. My single sister and I drank Blue Moons and talked to guys who used words like, "dude", "sick", and "hella".

I hardly touched my phone the whole weekend, except to document a few things via Instagram. I floated down a river, swam in water the color of my F21 turquoise cocktail rings and shamelessly flirted with any boy I chose to.

I returned to Los Angeles relaxed and feeling like I had a new lease on my single life again. I had seen the "other fish in the sea" or in my case, lake.

I re-read some of my past posts to remind myself of how far I had come from that sad little wine-o girl I used to be. I stumbled upon something I had written last November and I felt like I had written it for my future self.

16. if your heart aches, if you miss someone, if you wish it could still be... there will always be something different and better headed your way. it might take a while to find you. you might feel really resentful... and you might be acting like a bit of a heinous bitch, but it will get to you when you are the best, you.


Thanks Buddha-Edie.... you were right.

Two weeks after my trip I met my BOYFRIEND.

WHAT THE HELL GUYS?

He's kind, respectful, motivated, chivalrous, and absolutely hilarious. I've never laughed/smiled so much. My cheeks are legitimately sore!


I won't go into deetz just yet, because it's new and I am still embracing all of the sugary sweet, "oh em gee!!" moments that seem to happen every day (multiple times a day).

(don't hate me cuz you ain't me)

 All I know is that I am a happy girl.

XOXOX

Edie.

p.s. he leaves me notes and kisses my cheeks.

can't. even. deal.

Love & Hatred: Summer Edition

L O V E

1. Yo, Essie nail polish, your color selection this summer is ridiculous! Corals, pastel blues, neon pinks, turquoise, lavender... I want them all! Thank you for turning my hands into precious little Easter eggs.

Like...don't even talk to me right now if you're still rocking a french tip.


2. Breaking Bad!

I have never blown through 4 seasons of a television show so fast. Nor have I been so keen on meth terminology. I nearly have a panic attack every episode. This show has some of the best writing on television and the best acting as well.

Plus, it's what all the cool kids are watching.

I never thought cooking crystal could look so sexy, Jesse Pinkman.
(yep, I called it crystal.)


3. Viva los filters! Instragram, you make everyone and everything look so good. My cats look cuter, my eyes greener, and you give me the option of blurring out nonsense in the background.  I wish I could throw some amaro or hefe on all of my bad days.


4. Solo beach trips.

I try to do this as often as I can during summer. Mainly because I lack friends in Los Angeles, but also because it makes me feel like an independent bad ass.

There's nothing like driving down PCH and listening to my guilty pleasure music
 (aka pretending I'm in a music video)

Edie's Perfect PCH Playlist:

1. Take It Easy- Surfer Blood
2. One Fine Day- The Chiffons
3. Everlasting Light- Black Keys
4. Maggie May- Rod Stewart
5. King of the Beach- Waaves
6. Vampire- Tribal Seeds
7. Mercy- Kanye West
8. Have Love, Will Travel- The Sonics
9. Squeeze Box- The Who
10. American Girl- Tom Petty
11. Rosana- Wax
12. Velvet Elvis- Alex Winston
13. We Found Love- Rihanna
14. Fantasy- Mariah Carey
15. Call Me- Blondie

Bonus: you don't have to explain why your razor burn looks like you were in a chemical accident or why you're reading 50 Shade of Grey.

( I HAD TO SEE WHAT ALL THE HYPE WAS ABOUT YA'LL)



5. A fridge full of healthy groceries.

Look at all of those gorgeous veggies!
Is that fage yogurt I see?
I'm so glad you listened to me and bought those organic strawberries and almond milk, you'd be a fool if you didn't.
You're going to grate that ginger root into your water to help with digestion?
THAT'S SOME DR. OZ SHIT GIRL!

This is what my internal voice says to me every time I come back from Trader Joe's.

It's so trendy and LA of me to shop like this, but what the hell... it makes me feel better about myself. Urban Outfitters needs to make a shirt that reads:

KALE
QUINOA
KOMBUCHA

Because you know every girl wearing TOMS and carrying a coconut water would be all over it.

6. Forever21 quick fixes.

Oh no, I have nothing to wear to that birthday party tonight!
All of my pajamas have holes in them!
I NEED COCKTAIL RINGS!


Have no fear, F21 is here! I know most of their stuff is hit or miss, but where else can you buy a whole outfit (with accessories) for under $50?

I love that almost all of their locations are turning into department sized stores!

I also love seeing boyfriends leaning against wracks of clothes in anguish as their girlfriends run around with their arms full of floral,lace, and sequins.

Babe, is this cute?

7. Winking... I used to find it creepy, now I need it in my life.

Come on, you text wink all the time!
Wouldn't you love to say, "Oh em gee Katie, that guy just totally winked at me!" and have it be a good looking dude?

Boys, if a babelicious girl winked at you... what would you even do!?


Ok, maybe I'm alone on this one.

8. On that note... PLEASE KISS ME ON THE CHEEK. Seriously, getting a cheek kiss always makes my day. Even if its from a guy who's just a friend.

(As you can see I have decided I want to be treated like a Southern Belle from now on.)

H A T E

1. Yo, Essie nail polish, why are you $7 a bottle?


 Moths just flew out of my wallet and I just tipped my barista with a button and some pocket lint. 

(but damn, my nailz are cute!)

2. I panic at the thought of Breaking Bad ending. This is supposedly the last season.

 I mean, I get it... Walt and Jesse can only get so deep into troubles with the cartel.

and eventually Aaron Paul is going to have to take the time to dump his wife/get to know me/marry me. 

Why can't it just last forever, bitch?

3. Thanks to Instagram, any photo taken of me without a filter disappoints me. 

Is that really what I look like today? 

Oh come on... give me a little Lo-fi.

4. So you had your awesome solo beach trip. Your car mats are filled with sand, your hair is wild and sun bleached, you are so totally California right now.

Then you feel a tingle on the tops of your thighs, your bathing suit feels unusually tight against your neck. Time for a post-beach shower.

HOLY GHOST-BOOBS! you got burnt to a crisp!! 

Why does bathroom lighting make sunburns look so much worse? It's okay girlfriend, you're just workin' on your base tan. 

(and freckle collection, in my case)

5.  Why didn't anyone tell me that organic means almost rotten? 
I just threw out a drawer full of produce because for some reason I think I'm a god damn dinosaur and find it neccessary to buy 3 types of lettuce.




When fruit tastes like booze, does that mean it's just really ripe ?
Meet me at Del Taco.




6.  Forever21 quick fixes are great, total lifesavers. 


Then there's that moment when you realize everything you're wearing is from there, even your bra... every day. 


(...and maybe 78% of my closet ). 


ForeverBallinOnABudget.




7.  The only dudes who wink at me are in 1994 Toyota pick ups at red lights. ayyyy guey. 

8.  They aren't the same if you have to ask for them boys... help a sister out and kiss her on the cheek. 


She'll probably think about letting you kiss her in other places afterwards. 

Just sayinnnn'








XOXO


Edie

Ex-tacy

Writing the post "Baby Got Dumped" was oddly challenging. Never, have I written (on here) about Ben in intimate detail. It's easy to write/ talk about the bad, ridiculous, and mean things he did. It's easy to go on and on about how I'm better off without him. It's even easier not to write about him at all. 

It was not easy writing about the overwhelming and all consuming love I felt for him.

I felt empowered telling all of you my embarrassing, yet heartbreaking tale. With each key stroke I remembered the different aches I felt and how I hadn't felt them for a long time. Half way through, I got a touch of the cries... nothing a little wine and Jewel couldn't fix.

 (yes I still listen to Jewel, hater.)

Save, preview and publish! The responses and feedback I received reassured me that I had written something relatable, which is always my main concern. 

A few days or so after posting, I awoke to an email that made my ears hot and skin prickle.

It was from Ben...

Not only had he found this blog, but he had read my latest post.

You know, the one starring him as the leading asshole?

Fanfuckingtastic!

I was surprised to read that he "enjoyed" my writing and that it was "really good stuff". My brain was reeling. This was my safe place! This was where I could be honest, raw and real about everything... and now there was an intruder.

The intruder...

I immediately scanned through all of my past posts, trying to guess which ones he had read and which ones I prayed he had skipped over. 

Oh God, Edie! Why did you have to write about that!?

I spent the day at work folding stacks of shirts (that I'd already folded 5 times) and thinking of the perfect response to his email.

"WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT THIS?"
" I KNOW THAT YOU'RE THINKING, BUT THAT WASN'T ABOUT YOU"
"ARE YOU STALKING ME, BRO?"

I ended up sending a calm and civil 4 sentence response. I felt relief. I knew one day he would find this blog and he finally had. The incident even inspired me to write a new post ASAP.

Ha! Take that! I am as strong as I think I am!


CUT TO A WEEK LATER:

" Give me my phone!" I begged my friend through intoxicated sobs.

Does Iphone have a breathalyzer app?

I dialed the number I hadn't used in almost two years and held the phone to my ear. I heard Ben's voice and air escaped my lungs.

VOICEMAIL. HELL YEAH. THANK BABY JESUS!

This was my moment to tell him everything. I was going to tell him how mad I was that he found and read my blog. I was going to tell him that I wished his email contained even a trace of an apology for the past. I was going to tell him how I was so totally done and over it.

No I wasn't. Not even close.

" Hi Ben. It's Edie.... It's Monday (breathy sob). Give me a call"

click.

" You called to tell him it was Monday?" my friend said blankly.

Truth is, I don't know why I called him.

No, that's not the truth.

The real truth... is that all of those nights I had spent writing, painting, singing, crying, yelling, screaming, praying, cursing; were nights I wished I could hear from him.

Now I had.

As much as I write about how happy I am and how strong I've become, there is still something that weighs me down and makes each day a struggle.

It's my heart.

Yeah, yeah I know the heart isn't really responsible for emotion and feeling... but if that's true, then why does my chest ache with each memory of him?  (don't even roll your eyes right now, bitch)

Sometimes it gets so hard doing the right thing all the time.

Eating that effing kale salad instead of pizza, getting into bed before midnight, working out instead of going to happy hour,  NOT CALLING YOUR EXBOYFRIEND.

I gave in, guys. I tapped out. I surrendered.


I surrendered to my own emotions for the first time in months. It felt nauseating and confusing...

 but feeling nauseated and confused never felt so good.

To be continued...

XOsniffleX

Edie