1. Who knew that sweaters could cause such a problem? 2. I wonder if I finished
the scrapbooks if that could pay for the remodling of my kitchen? 3. Thank you,
Kevmo, for the Ellis Paul CD. 4. No, my world ain’t slowin’ down. 5. If I could
be everything, I’d a) be able to sing and b) write poetry. 6. Who hasn’t heard
of blogs? What world are these people living in? 7. I take alot of crap to work
every day. 8. What color have other red brick houses painted their windows? 9.
Get out of my way, little Thunderbird.

Funny how I take into account my reading audience when I blog. What will they
find interesting? The tidbits of life? Business? Drinking games? The local Pub?
I often vote for the latter, assuming that revelry is a common thread among all
of us. Belle de Jour inspired a different thought in me today, however. Here is
a more intimate detail of life, Belle Style: I have this funny thing about
buying guys shirts. I’ve really only had one serious boyfriend, until D, but
numerous males in my life have recieved the Standard Shirt as a Christmas gift.
This past Christmas, when trying to decide what to get him, I resolved to not
opt out for the Shirt. There is too much risk in picking something that is not
“him”. Picking the wrong shirt could have possible implications of trying to
“change” him, and heaven only knows, that is certain death in any guy/girl
relationship. Having parted ways with every other male I’ve gifted with a shirt,
the Shirt Gift seems to carry with it the Curse of Singledom. Alas, I carry the
Curse of the Shopper. All Shoppers know that male clothing is significantly less
expensive than female clothing, and when on sale, especially hard not to
purchase. So a few days after Christmas, Harold’s found me browsing the racks of
Classic Shirts for Today’s Male. Several wise buys later, D had two sweaters
(one cashmere), three collared shirts, and an extremely sexy looking pair of
menswear pajama pants. Perhaps a little over the top, but you wouldn’t believe
the fabulous prices! So D is having publicity photos taken tomorrow. Last night,
amidst the motherload of Shirts from Harold’s, combined with a few bowling
shirts and some horizontally striped sweaters, I sat on his bed and took black
and white digital pictures of different outfits he tried on. Aside from feeling
like Alicia Silverstone in Clueless, I was having a great deal of fun drooling
over the sight of him in a collared blue shirt (He looked hotter than Ryan
Seacrest!). In the middle of the havoc, I discovered that one Brown Shirt and
one Cashmere Sweater were to be eliminated from his wardrobe and returned to The
Store. (please note that all future references to The Store shall be namely
Harold’s). Therein lies the problem, of which D was quite aware. Not accepting
the Gift of the Shirt means all sorts of hurt feelings in a Relationship. While
the Brown Shirt to be returned really didn’t bring out the darling blue of his
eyes in the best fashion, the Cashmere Sweater was nothing but delicious and
Great Disappointment registered with me that I would not be able to curl up in
it’s Cashmere Goodness on cold nights. In turn, this made me feel I had made and
Inappropriate Choice in selecting a Shirt. As previously reviewed, the selection
of an Inappropriate Shirt would imply to a guy that Change would be necessary.
Hence, I immediately became concerned not about the Return of the Cashmere
Sweater, but about D’s assurance of my feelings for him. I love him just the way
he is, No Change Necessary, but merely wished I could express how hot he looks
when he dresses up A Little Bit. So I pouted. Not intentionally, believe it or
not, but really and truly because I was upset with myself for making D feel like
he needed to be changed. Difficult Silence filled the room. My feelings were
hurt because he wanted to return the Cashmere Sweater, his feelings were hurt
because I was no longer interested in photographing outfits. (Frankly, the blue
shirt made him look hot as hell and I wished he’d just wear that every day for
the rest of his life). Reason should always rule will and appetite, however, and
Reason told me that if he wouldn’t wear the Cashmere Sweater and the Ugly Brown
Shirt that there would be no sense in keeping them. Reason also told me that if
said items were returned, there would be more than enough room on my Harold’s
account to purchase a pair of Classic Boots, on sale from $220, to $74. Having
reassured myself that return was the best action, I only needed reassurance from
D that he knew I loved him and that he loved me. Which I got when he leaned over
seconds later and wrapped his arms around me and held me until I fell asleep. I
woke up at 2:30, content, totally happy, unconcerned about all Shirts, and
headed home. There is nothing in this world like arms that make you feel
completely loved, wholly accepted and absolutely adored.

So much got done on the house this weekend. I need to post some before and after
pics. (In good time, don’t pressure me please). My room is almost ready to move
into; just have to solve a few carpet/flooring issues. I can’t decide wether to
refinish the hardwood floors or carpet them. Carpet would be easy but expensive.
Hardwood would be cheap but time consuming. After that, some small stuff to do
here and there, and then I’m done! Might take Friday off and move, if enough has
been accomplished.

Tonight the world was at the Wormy Dog, minus me. I was at my house, sanding and
painting furiously. I want to move over there tomorrow. How sad is it that I’ve
owned a house since November but I’m not living there? Insane, I tell you, and
nothing but! I want life to slow down. I want the scrapbooks to be done, the
orders to be filled, the printing to go smoothly. I want to be able to close my
eyes and write and think and dream the way I use to. I don’t want to be bored
all the time–and I want to work still, but I want the pressures I put myself
under to be diminished. I hope within a couple of months that there will be more
“whitney time”. Not necessarily relaxing time, just time to check in and know
that I’m still the same girl I was a couple of years ago. At the same time, I
know that the moments of life are fleeting, and I remind myself to savor them
while I can. Tonight, while friends savored those moments at our fave hangout, I
sacrificed an evening of revelery (sp?) to the hopes that maybe, maybe, maybe,
by my birthday, the house will be party-ready, and I can entertain in the lavish
(but not outlandish) style that the girl I was used to dream of. Did you follow
that?

I understand the function, but not the purpose, of the pdf. Anyone care to
explain?

I drink no less than three cans of Dr. Pepper a day and the mind boggles that
there are some, in remote corners of this world, that have never savored the
sweet bubbly goodness of said carbonated beverage.

I wish I was a madpony. At least their comments all come from different people.

OH. my. goodness. Christina is a darling. I post all this idea of Manolos and
Martinis, then go read her site, only to find that Martini is the topic of the
day! And pink martinis, nevertheless. And as we all know, I really can’t get
enough of pink. And, yes, people, really, what is with the vodka? Bombay is the
ONLY way to go. (Even though it should be pink). I have to say, though, it’s not
a martini if there is some puckered flavor in it. Then it’s just a fancy drink
in a triangle shaped glass. On another note… I’m officially going to Bal de
Nuit, the ball for Ballet Oklahoma. This means, find a dress, shoes, earrings,
necklace, jacket/wrap, make hair appointment, get new makeup. All for a little
bubbly. Call me sentimental (for the first time ever), but I’m glad I’ll have
Drew there. He looks hot when he gets dressed up and I’ll be so proud to show
him off.

I have an Ash/Christina inspired idea for a new line…call it something like
Martinis and Manolos! Shoes and alcohol EVERYWHERE! Whaddya think?

Market is a frazzeling experience. Ever procrastinating, it took me a day longer
to get out of town than I had hoped. That’s right. I was running behind by a
full 24 hours. So I make it to Dallas, run into market on Wednseday, only to
have a very slow, but not disheartening, day. Thursday, same. Friday, I watched
three reps write orders for every single line but mine. Why, I do not
understand. The mechanics of women who buy stationery are beyond me. My line is
every bit as cute (if not cuter), than some of my competition. Even so, I don’t
believe in making excuses. I could have written commissions faster, offered a
better market special, been more prepared with my sample deck, worked harder on
the designs. So Friday, I called it a day. I had a weekend ahead of me-in
Dallas, one of my favorite places of all time. I left at 4:30, exhausted and
headed out to Jen’s. It was pouring down rain, so we got Taco Bell and movies
and called it a girls’ night. Something complete non-alcoholic. Never before had
Jen and I ever conceded a night to Taco Bell and movies. I think we were both
just beat. Saturday I decided not to head back to Market. Was fed up. Some
orders had come in overnight, which was slightly encouraging, but not enough to
make me want to take the two hours it actually takes to drive, park and walk
into that place. Drew drove down and we went to Thomas Avenue Beverage Company
for dinner and then to the Bob Schneider concert. I hate to admit that I threw a
little temper tantrum at the concert. It was completely unintentional, and
taught me a little about my limits. There were no tables, standing room only.
Schneider was fabulous. So we were standing on a bridge, had a great view, but
by midnight my eyes were hanging and my feet hurt. I so want to be the “cool
girlfriend”, and we were there for Drew’s birthday, so in no way did I want to
tell him that I wanted to go. So I tried to tough it out, but just got more and
more miserable and tired standing there and we sort of got into a tizzy about it
and finally just left. It was just a classic, laid back, vacation type weekend.
I really should spare the details, but life is good…I have a ton to do now
that I’m back…get all the disks ready to go to the printer, keep on designing,
marketing, working towards sales…makes me tired just thinking about it.