I'm off!

I'm on my way downtown to take the Megabus into Chicago! When I get there I have to take a taxi to the Red Line train, wiggle my way through figuring all that junk out, ride the train, and then meet Chris! Then, we go out for strong bourbon whiskey, per my request.

shirt: Gabriel Brothers, from Urban Outfitters

jeans: Levis

boots: Gabe's. They're amazing. They lace all the way up the back, and look very equestrian. I've pretty much been living in them for the past week. My friend Mike dubbed them my 'shit-kickin boots.'

suitcase: left on my front porch. I don't know, either.

Also, that's what the streak I was talking about bleaching in my hair in the previous post turned out like. I must say I'm happy with it.

I'll do some blogging from Chicago, hopefully. See you later!

xoxo

List:

Things I am currently doing:

-watching Hotel Chevalier

-packing (early but frantically!) for Chicago

-drinking (gross) Chardonnay. I like Pinot Grigio better, but it was more expensive, and I am po'

-bleaching a streak of my hair. More on this later.

-reading blogs

-blogging

-being simultaneously redundant and a vortex of blogging, packing and drinking frenzy.

Also, Jason Schwartzman is sexy. Now I have to watch Shopgirl, too. Thanks a lot, Wes Anderson. We can still get married, though.

Fine.

Fine, fine. I'm up from the coffee, I might as well do this, right?

I found that blouse/shirt thing at Gabriel Brothers (surprise). It was between this gorgeous cobalt blue-and-red plaid one, and the green one that I've got on. You can see what I chose.

The shorts are from F21, obvs. What's not so obvs is that they go all the way up under my boobs. This means that while I was at Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago back in July, I could successfully take off my shirt and wear my cute red gingham bra with these shorts while not appearing totally hoochie-fied, which isn't that big of a worry for me anyway. It was liberating. On another note, my sister hates them. She has a venomous hate for all things high-waisted, and always rolls her eyes when she sees me walk into my parents' house wearing yet another pair of high-waisted whatevers. She says she's worried for my crotch, and I'm all yeah, whatever, you're sixteen. Now let me borrow another one of your cute dresses.

The boots I got at my used-to-be-favorite thrift store, the Peppermint Pig. I yearn for the halcyon days when they didn't know how to price the treasures that they got in, which is how I ended up with these vintage Zodiac boots for three dollars. Three. Dollars. I can't even get a fancy coffee for that anymore. This is why I hate teh recessionz.

Hey, pre-haircut mop, what's up. So I tried this on in the BCBG boutique when I went there with aforementioned sister and mom to look for sister's prom dress (interlude: HAHAHAHAHA yeah right). It was freakin gorgeous. The photos don't even do it justice. So. Much. Pleating. And the rosettes. It was wow.

I'm trying with all my might not to include my thoughts on Sarah Palin in this post, so I think it's time to go stare at the ceiling and pretend to be trying to go to sleep, even though inside I'm wishing it were Thursday so I could go to Chicago already. Time, why are you so cruel?

Regret.

I went to the grocery with my mom today. Inevitably, this means buying much nicer things than I would normally buy for myself (hello, two jobs and barely making rent! Meet nearly-expired produce!).  There was fresh food! And ginger peach green tea! And cherries! Cherries, you guys! There was also organic fair-trade dark roast coffee. Now, I don't know about anyone else, but after I go to the grocery, it's almost like getting new clothes: I must go try some of everything at once. So, true story: it's almost 1 a.m, I've eaten all the cherries, and also decided to brew a pot of coffee. At 1 a.m. The result? I don't think I'm going to be able to get up to go to the gym tomorrow. I could always just stay up all night and then go, but: no.

Why do I do this? Why?

On a happier note, I'm going to Chicago at the end of this week for a long weekend with a lovely boy. There will be much bike-riding and picture-taking (I'm making him my official photographer, which I'm sure he won't mind), so expect some (drunk) outfit shots of both of us, cause he's a snappy dresser, too. And cross your fingers that I don't totally eat shit on a bike in Chicago, cause I'm so terrified, you guys.

Oh. And I promise I'll update more, for like the 3 people (myself included) that read this.

kisses n shit.