GPOY the my eyeliner is cooperating with me (!!!!!) so i had to document the occassion mirror selfie edition.
remote control - beastie boys. about to max out at carnivale for jay’s birthday - getting pumped music.
omgfuawuhoagawwww this looks amazing. it’s like tyra even taught food how to shmize. somebody take me!
apparently my replacement answer item for it is fried chicken. and last week i purposely packed mini ziploc bags, never the same to change it up. one day cap’n crunch another day carrot sticks. driving’s a house of mirrors.
trying not to get all serious about it, just thought spewing at this point. as much as i like think that a good majority of the richly well-to-do population is diluted by the money and riches (untrue, but generalizing is easy), i find it difficult to not want to be on that side sometimes. i would love to find a happy medium between making a great living and not feeling like i’m swindling the fuck out of people at least once a day at my job, but realistically/chances are i won’t fulfill that want. because well, that’s life.
(but if somehow i beat the odds and do get that happy medium, hallelujah!!!)
there isn’t this overwhelming ill-intent to wanting more. if wanting to have the type of financial cushion to throw a little of it around is a shitty want, i’ll take it. because fuck, i want to take my parents on that trip to bermuda because my pops keeps talking about going back (he worked there in the 70s). i want them to truly understand that it’s amazing their hard work can show them a life outside the tin roofs they used to live in and they don’t have to settle for generic spam for dinner (don’t get it twisted, shit’s damn good and i have a box in the cupboard). and more selfishly, travel and leisure, c’monnnn.
then we all have this lofty hope that everything and everyone got some type of equal opportunity but if you even look slightly into things like the american education system, we’re far from it. best believe me, if i could ever afford to send my own kids to latin, i’ll do it in a heartbeat. and the discrepancy isn’t just the cps. it’s all over, between public schools. that’s how you get parents cashing in their paychecks to schools in other districts just to get their kids a decent education.
i’m sure once you get there (as in money-making central) you’ll understand whatever mo money mo problems really means, but as an outsider looking in you just can’t grasp it. all you see is fantastically furnished loft spaces and pretty couture. honestly, whenever i cover big events, especially charity-related ones, i find myself gawking and imagining what this person or that person did that afternoon to look so unfrazzled. or i think shit like is she even giddy about the getup she’s wearing? because i can remember the 1st time i wore a phillip lim dress to one of these things that i got on a super red yellow purple or whatever markdown status tucked away at a nordstrom rack and strutted that thing like i was cloud 9.
i think this whole money thought’s retriggered by this teenager who rear-ended k’s car not too long ago. and because we live in a world now where we can be creepy on the internet we googled the names of his parents he jotted down. the couple’s loaded and they own a particularly reputable jewelry store in chicago.
now i don’t mean to be one of those girls to get all cat clawing annoying and talk about rings, but i’m gonna talk about rings. because i spent about an hour on their website obsessing over engagement rings and all i can think about is networking the crap out of him to get a grossly discounted piece of stone. i never and still don’t care where that thing will come from when the time comes. k could get it at wal-mart or the back alleys of god knows where and i’ll be happy, but these were a dream. and to get a piece of a dream is the dream, right? no? i don’t know what i’m saying. anyway, so you would assume this jewelry store guy would be all assholeish about the whole asking him about rings thing, but no, he gives us his personal contacts, amongst other things. not to mention no one was hurt in the accident but he offers to pay for a doctor anyway in case some internal thing was going on. guess his kids already got in a bunch of accidents and doesn’t want to go thru the insurance. one side of inner me wanted be like dude, teach your kids how to drive and be fucking responsible. the other inner side of me was screeching pretty rings!!!! in high-pitched karen walker fashion.
sidenote: this dude rolls up into the neighborhood in a $150,000+ mercedes. and apparently there’s a car shop in a sketchier area nearby a bunch of rich fucks bring their cars to because they do a damn good job. hmm, note to self when if someday i’m rolling around in an “i made it!” car.
then i start to think, how much of myself do i really want to compromise?
this is what the rest of the week looks like:
apparently i have to continue having dates with vicks and a box of tissues.
.....fleeting moments and the daily grind.
from the city of wind, in a love-hate tango with nostalgia, doubts there'll ever be a point when common will not be relevant, revels in (eases) life's cherry pits, and fueled by words & beats.