Upadation

Yesterday was a busy ass day and I'm paying for it this morning. It started at 5am with the first of many garage sales to happen over the next few months. I have to admit, it's a little heart-wracking to sell off my things. My record player, dresses from high school dances, my books. But I keep telling myself it's all for the cause. After the sale, CJ and I decided to go down to the harbor and watch the America's Cup boats. And then we proceeded to do everything else possible first including: make tea, wait for CJ to shower, go to Jamba Juice, stopping at Nest Vintage and driving through Golden Hill to remind CJ that Yes, she has been to the Ex's old house on 26th.

Eventually, we made it down to the harbor, walked the bay until we found a nice spot to sit- only to be chased away minutes later by the multitudes of dive-bombing gulls. Too much to do when I'm still under the weather- I woke up today feeling hungover when I didn't have a single drink to blame it on.

But it wasn't all shitting seabirds and exasperating sickness- we saw a truck filled with penny-farthings on our walk along the harbor.

 

 And I finally saw the SD city hall.

 Then, we ran over to Gelato where we attempted to tackle the Reader puzzles. And I found this ridiculous sticker (it says Punk rock is voting Bush) which made me think of The New Boy.

Ah, yes- I promised some further explanation of The New Boy. Well, through a series of Halloween coincidences, some scheming of his friends and some strategic red lipstick, we ended up meeting, chatting and eventually (and a little drunkenly) smooching in a law office building's courtyard during a downpour. Super classy, no?

We've gone on a few dates since then and I'm both pleased and little sad to say he's a very cool guy. Pleased because he's sweet and goofy and fun to be with. Sad because I had to meet him 6 months before I leave town. For now, I'm just enjoying the situation of actually dating again. Oh my.

Regarding illness and shoes

Well, I fought it and fought it but it finally won. Terrible germs have infested my body and I'm officially sick. Ok, so maybe hanging out with CJ when she was ill wasn't such a good idea and I'm thinking that kissing in the rain the other night was less romantic then it was foolish. 

(Wait- did I forget to share that news? Damn, well- I met a boy and he's interesting but I'll cover that in more detail some other time)

So, yes, I'm partially to blame for my current condition but I'm doing everything I can think of to combat this cold. Eating vitamin C chewables and pretty much bathing in green tea. And resting. So, while my body wages it's microscopic war, I've decided to poke around the internet looking at shoes. Surprise.

However, I'm not buying any since I'm trying to save for the move. I did make a little set of shoes that I would buy though, if I wasn't being so good and not buying them. Even though I really want to buy them.

Top left going Clockwise: Restricted Pop Art in Red, Miz Mooz Advanced Placement Heels, Seychelles All Dressed Up Heels, Sister Nature Heels at ModCloth, Madden Girl Uttsons, Poetic License Charm School Heels.

I feel the need to point out that I actually own very few high heels. Most of my shoes are 3" or lower, despite my high heel theory for large footed women.

And this is due to the fact that most shoe designers seem to have this awful desire to make ladies look like horses. The current trend in heels is a towering 6" which is not exactly practical for any sort of walking whatsoever. So, they slap on a 3" platform and the result is millions of poor gals clomping around in a very equine manner. 

 I actually own those last ones and though they are more tame in the platform regard then others, they still make me feel like I'm wearing horseshoes. Most modern designers seem to have lost the idea that heels should be flattering on the foot. Instead, they give us heavy looking weights at the end of our legs and tell us it's sexy. 

Well, the Revamp Vixen is here to tell you-  it's not. 

End sickness fuels shoe rant.

Little nonsense

Well, that's it. The dreaded last milestone in the "Shitty Post Break-up Milestones" series. The Ex got married today. 

I did pretty well, all things considered. Got up early, went to work and was actually downright cheery for most of the day. (I did end up crying in the shower for a bit but what can you do?)

I am disappointed in myself that it's been almost two year since we broke up and I still carry this sentiment for "us".  

Ah well, no sense in dwelling on it.

Haphazard

This past week I've been all over the board- so lets see how many tags I can hit in one post.

1. My main focus has been furnishing my soon to be apartment. A difficult task what with no money and no storage space. My newest want- this Hat Stand from Urban Outfitters. Which I must order online since I couldn't bare the sham of actually walking into an Urban Outfitter. Brrrhhh!

2. Ordered my 7th pair of Perfect heels from DSW- I had no choice since they finally re-issued them in blue and in the 4+ years that I've been dressing vintage, I have yet to own a pair of blue heels. I had to buy them.

3. Went to a party for the lovely EG  on Friday. She officially quit her mundane job to become a yoga instructor. As if that's not awesome enough, there was a bounce house. I'm still sore today.

4. Found a thread on The Fedora Lounge that shows you how to use a vintage rotary phone off your cell line.

 How neat is that?

5. I've been thinking about Idyllwild quite a bit lately. Not really sure why, it's just been popping in my head this whole past week. And the more I think about it, the more I find all I want is to be back at the cabin again. I guess it makes sense- what with all the bullshit thats happened in the past month, getting over with The Fancy and pissing "friends" off and thinking too much on The Ex. Slowly but surely, I realize I'm being cut out of that group of people. And that's putting me in a really lonely state.

So, if I'm going to be lonely anyway, I might as well be lonely in the mountains.

What's that- 11 tags?

Not too shabby.

This was supposed to be a happy "Vacation-packing" post-

but today has been such an awful day I don't want to think about packing. Or going to Vegas.

I can't find my parasol or hand fan. Anywhere. And I can remember exactly where they were in the old house but here all my things are in boxes and crates still. All of my old life is in disarray out in the shed because I had to get out of that apartment ahead of The Ex. In the matter of a week, I lost my boyfriend and my home and now I can't find a damn thing.

Except a whole bunch of junk that reminds me of him, that is.

I hate going through those boxes because my old life with him is all still in there.

This coupled with my nightmare day at work just makes me want to go to sleep.

When the late night gets at you-

there is often a fine line between self indulgence and self pity. At the moment, I'm trying to figure which side I'm walking. Here's a little travelin' music.

Quick Bit while the Laundry Cycles

Today is dedicated to strong black coffee, tackling the mountain of laundry I've accumulated over the week and organizing photos. All set to the folky goodness of The Silent Comedy's newest album Common Faults.  Here's a little collage from yesterdays shenanigans.

Now, while the coffee is tasty and the smell of clean clothes is comforting, they just aren't enough to cheer me out of my blue mood over missing the boys big big show tonight. Damn my procrastination.
Oh, well. I'll leave off with one of my favorite songs of theirs. I think it really just begs to be used for a burlesque routine. Someday.

PS- any advancement I make towards un-fancying The Fancy is all shot to hell when I hear him play that harmonica. Oh my!

Certainly no prom queen

Unlike many folks, I loved my high school years. I had great friends and a what-the-hell attitude that combined to result in countless fun times. Senior prom was one of them. I went with a good friend of mine, Mack, and wore a gorgeous 30's style dress. Which I still have and will one day fit back into. I swear.

Prom was such a blast, so when my friend JFK mentioned that The Pearl Hotel was going to be putting on a Vintage Prom benefit, how could I not go?

Turns out it was on the same night that I was supposed to go see Nosferatu at the Copley Symphony Hall with The Fancy. Which I wasn't about to miss so I decided the obvious course of action was to ask him to go with me to prom afterwards. That make two proms for two that I asked the boy to be my date. I'm so progressive.

Fantastic night.

The symphony was beautiful and quite entertaining. I found myself watching the musicians more then the actual film. Something about classical music is just so fascinating to me.

We sped over to the hotel, met up with KJ and her man, took corny prom pictures, drank some awful spiked punch and The Fancy did a cannonball into the pool. While wearing his TSC get-up.

The photos were recently published and most were amazingly awkward, unfortunately. But a few turned out public viewing worthy. Luckily, we took massive amounts at our after-prom party (the boys apartment with whiskey and cigarettes)

Bear in mind that the following photos were taken while intoxicated!.

I look so obviously flustered here...

Pause-

Yesterday was filled with small-quiet activities. My favorite weekend ritual of coffee and a cigarette on the patio, facing east. When I size up the sun and lay down my laws for the day.

The graduation party in honor of ML. A few minutes of best friend and old friends and champagne sherbet punch.

A delay in my Mama's flight resulted in a few hours spent at the coffee shop with House of Leaves.  Books are friends and sometimes, I like to catch up with them, see how they're doing, see what's new.  Rarely anything is (they're books, remember?) but sometimes....sometimes.

Which lead to a short visit with The Fancy. Too short but aren't they always?
And that's all I have to say about that.


Retrieved the Wandering Matriarch and spent the rest of the night reading (and scaring myself all right and proper.) Labyrinths and claws and happened/didn't happen are a bad idea after midnight.
Some stories are best left to the daylight hours.

Sometimes you can surprise yourself

And sometimes others can surprise you even more.

As aforementioned, I met up with The Ex for coffee last night. And I was surprised to find myself getting really nervous as the clock got closer to 9:30. What would we talk about? Will I start bawling out of nowhere? What should I wear?

We had only very recently started talking again after a six month self-imposed embargo of sorts. I found it so odd that the idea of seeing him again made me so scared. I mean, this man held my heart for three years. Not long ago, he was the most familiar and most comfortable person in my life. And now, I'm worried about what impression I'll make?

Funny what time and distance and a few select words can do.

I was able to smack myself out of that mindset. I realize that we ended as amiably as possible and that while I may not be over him, I am over the hurt. No reason in the world to stress. It's just him.

Buuuttttt..... He did dump me, so I figured I was entitled to a slight bit of  woman-scorned revenge in fashion form. They say the best revenge is living well.
Well, I say the best revenge is looking good. So, I went sophistikill on him.

Now, sophistikill is less of an outfit and more of an overall vibe. Tight pencil skirts, monochromatic with color pops, stockings and a wrist-watch are vital. It says " I am unflappable." It also says "Don't fuck with your secretary."

Surprise! The night went so nicely. We caught up on each other's work, families and general well-being. We briefly touched on our relationship and were able to make some easements and amends without dredging up the whole past. I realize how silly it was for me to be nervous over him. We always were very easy with each other. When we talked, we could talk about anything. Turns out as much as I miss him romantically, I miss him platonically even more. The Ex said something during our breakup that I'm finally coming to realize is true now.

Much as it kills me, we really are better at being friends.