Friday, June 29, 2012
Lovers + Friends
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Roompa Loompaland Part 2
Roompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-doo,
I’ve got a perfect puzzle for you.
Roompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-dee,
If you are wise you’ll listen to me.
Everyone delves into the world of what's in and what's not, what's 'winning' and what's an epic fail, and everyone thinks he/she is different from the rest of us. This concept of individuality can be pro-con. It can inspire and give a positive boost or it can supplement a concoction of cocky. We all have contrasting viewpoints and means of expression. Thus, we are different, yet the same. Yeah, some people achieve more than others, putting an emphasis on daily competition, but if we had nothing to compare, we would be a meaningless, bland race. Speaking of our race, it is beyond me that a human would guide in defining 'humanity' via the example sentence here: 'Honestly, humanity in general is a sad and sorry race.' Maybe that person is suicidal, or maybe he/she addresses a point, setting aside the generalization part.
You gotta deal with what you've got. I'm talking about body-wise, health-wise, money-wise, and even purchase-wise. People can be so languishing and dissatisfied with themselves that it is a sorry, sorry thing. We put on trouble like it's our normal garb, when it's all actually garbage. Sure you can return/exchange a purchase, but if it goes out of stock, you're pretty much out of luck. Deal with it. People deal with what they have in different ways. Alterations are becoming more and more highly accepted, and you can be cautious or impractical about it. Steroids are abused, bones are intentionally broken, tanning is much too oompa loompa amplified. These are all at inevitably high costs. Tryhards don't see that one 'necessary' change leads to another. Go ahead, 'enhance' your muscles, your height, your skin hues, your boobage. I'm all for people that seek betterment and happiness. If only they could see health before beauty and happiness even in health. Also, being wealthy or not is just an accessory to your character. Without the latter, money can only take you so far. I admit to being spoiled at times, but you can't place me on the same side of the spectrum as Veruca Salt, the 'bad nut' that demanded her dad to give her a Willy Wonka squirrel. Like in that chocolate factory, rich resilience truly empowers the world. I'd much rather aim for who I want to be while accepting my life conditions instead of leading my own demise.
Roompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-da,
More than the Roompa Lompa do-ba-dee-do.
Cheers to those happier than a bird with a french fry or a squirrel with a gazillion good nuts.
I’ve got a perfect puzzle for you.
Roompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-dee,
If you are wise you’ll listen to me.
Everyone delves into the world of what's in and what's not, what's 'winning' and what's an epic fail, and everyone thinks he/she is different from the rest of us. This concept of individuality can be pro-con. It can inspire and give a positive boost or it can supplement a concoction of cocky. We all have contrasting viewpoints and means of expression. Thus, we are different, yet the same. Yeah, some people achieve more than others, putting an emphasis on daily competition, but if we had nothing to compare, we would be a meaningless, bland race. Speaking of our race, it is beyond me that a human would guide in defining 'humanity' via the example sentence here: 'Honestly, humanity in general is a sad and sorry race.' Maybe that person is suicidal, or maybe he/she addresses a point, setting aside the generalization part.
You gotta deal with what you've got. I'm talking about body-wise, health-wise, money-wise, and even purchase-wise. People can be so languishing and dissatisfied with themselves that it is a sorry, sorry thing. We put on trouble like it's our normal garb, when it's all actually garbage. Sure you can return/exchange a purchase, but if it goes out of stock, you're pretty much out of luck. Deal with it. People deal with what they have in different ways. Alterations are becoming more and more highly accepted, and you can be cautious or impractical about it. Steroids are abused, bones are intentionally broken, tanning is much too oompa loompa amplified. These are all at inevitably high costs. Tryhards don't see that one 'necessary' change leads to another. Go ahead, 'enhance' your muscles, your height, your skin hues, your boobage. I'm all for people that seek betterment and happiness. If only they could see health before beauty and happiness even in health. Also, being wealthy or not is just an accessory to your character. Without the latter, money can only take you so far. I admit to being spoiled at times, but you can't place me on the same side of the spectrum as Veruca Salt, the 'bad nut' that demanded her dad to give her a Willy Wonka squirrel. Like in that chocolate factory, rich resilience truly empowers the world. I'd much rather aim for who I want to be while accepting my life conditions instead of leading my own demise.
Roompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-da,
With positivity, you will go far.
You will live in happiness if you pursue,More than the Roompa Lompa do-ba-dee-do.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Roompa Loompaland
I'm not very into rompers, for when I first tried on a pair in a mall fitting room, they made me look like an oompa loompa. Little did I know that my anti 'roompa' stance was only temporary. Going out one night, I was stunned, envying my friend who effortlessly pulled off the look. Seriously, teach me how to roompa-minus the oompa, please. Even though I wasn't persuaded yet to pin the trending attire to my style, my doubts were suddenly hindered. My thoughts gradually pranced from 'How the hell do I go to the bathroom in this' to 'Why, yes, yes I do want to have to practically strip nude in order to tinkle.' Hashtag, kinky? Well, that wasn't exactly my decision making process, but I couldn't dismiss that angle of approach, and it's probably a prominent factor for many skeptics. Anyhow, chance lead me to one particular roompa that was not the common floral covered or solid colored garb, but instead a 100% cotton, black material with big birds of light pink, turquoise, and orange. I was also fancied by the roompa being synonymously dubbed a 'playsuit' instead; it was as if the designers played their cards just for me. Call me brave, but patterns really catch my eye, so I heedlessly snatched the item in my size, against being unaware if I would be a walking beast or beauty in it. The perks of shopping: if anything, I could return it. Yesterday was delivery day and boy did I bounce off the walls before ripping open my package (I do that with all my purchases, by the way). I made a wardrobe version of a Columbus discovery by trying on this little black big bird playsuit. I was captivated. It could have been that I adored the clothing so much that the pretend button in my head was triggered on, granting me permission to believe I looked as good in it as it looked without me. I guess that was as close to good as it was going to get with a roompa. The length was a tad bit short, but I'll manage, just like how this playsuit would have managed well if it were a dress. I assume the point is to close off the crotch area so perverts can't bet on a girl's pantie color. Oh, and to give a more casual appearance. Whether or not the trend will linger is trivial to me, as I like to expand my getup and not limit it to one style, even though one style can be incorporated in multiple projections. Besides, I only purchased one roompa. Someday, people are going to wake up and throw out all their roompas and then, some twenty years later, buy them all over again. Just as news suddenly surfaces, it also fades. We frock together, as we are birds of a feather.
P.S. Here's how I plan to escape the hideous monsters of Roompa Loompaland, the land which showcases outfits gone wrong:
Big Bird Playsuit from Topshop (get it here)
Double Strap Gladiator Thongs from LuLu*s (get it here)
Double Strap Gladiator Thongs from LuLu*s (get it here)
P.S. Here's how I plan to escape the hideous monsters of Roompa Loompaland, the land which showcases outfits gone wrong:
Hit Vs. Miss
High low skirts Animal prints
Pointy toe sandals Neon with neon
Crop Tops Bodysuits
Scallop shorts Tribal prints
Espadrilles Heel-less shoes
Maxis Peplum skirst/dresses
Huarache shoes Sperry boat shoes
Monday, June 18, 2012
The Search
So I begin my first blog today (instead of watching the season 1 finale of The Client List) because of various reasons:
1. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but not me
2. My favorite teacher always told me to never stop writing
3. Sharing is caring, right?
4. Might be cool
Now what? Well, in order for me to keep writing, ideas are required. Just like in order for you to keep on reading, you must find a common interest in these words. Via this blog, I will bestow on you something for you to take away.
Some people just stumble across fascinating things haphazardly, while others really sweat their balls out to grasp location location location. If Google Search does not map out where you can find whatever it is you seek, tough. If Google lead you here, you should be feeling lucky. You and I, we might not want the same materialistic/conceptual subjects, but we are humans; we have the same needs. We both know what it's like to want something so badly to the point of needing it. Water becomes pool becomes aquarium in my living room.
The more bills, the more thrills. It kills me to face the fact that the load aplenty in my bank account diminishes to a hideous amount each week. I find a high in searching for material things that are unique and what I had no idea I wanted because priorly, I did not know where it had been all my life. To me, clicking 'submit order' could be analogous to, I don't know, perhaps a man's first post gender change orgasm. A bit too much? Yeah, tell that to my bank security alert system, which can't tell if a thief is attempting to pamper his/herself or if I have mistaken the month of June with Christmas. Hold onto your bumps, you gooses, cause it's just me, the splurging chief. It's silly to think that one click of a mouse or a tap of a touch pad can tickle my happy bone to the extent that it does. You should see me 5-8 business days later when I go all Russian spy on FedEx trucks.
As humans, we are always searching, be it for happiness, love, freedom, recipes, memories, lost relations...etc. All searches, new and old, spike the punch of life. They just do. My daily searches are modern day pirate hunts. There are all kinds of hidden gems and jewelries in the world, and the internet is my map to fruition. Maybe I spoil myself too much, or maybe I should be charged for well spent self-indulgence. I purchase more outfits than I get occasions to wear them and yet I still find it necessary to push the cart past checkout. There is only one person that I want to check me out, too, and I could wear bland clothing instead of brands for all he cares. Still, I persist in my searches, my love-lust relationship with concrete entities, as if it were my job. Is there such a thing as a professional shopaholic? If so, I got a raise ten minutes ago.
Ten minutes ago I joined a waiting list for an item that I only today realized exists, and exists beautifully, might I add. Earlier, I had first laid eyes on this necessity of a necklace, but lo and behold, I was bummed out shortly after. 'Out of stock'- every consumer's worst daymare. I went ballistic on Google Search, Google Shopping, Google Images, Etsy, eBay, Shopbop, and more, attempting to find a replica or at least that which is resembling. I was about to settle with an equivalent charm when I stared longingly at the necklace on the original Dogeared site until my sight wandered to 'Out of stock- coming back soon!' Sure, I didn't have to search long and hard to get to that point and turn into one blithe bum, but at least the experience reassured me that this golden charm is one whaley whaley prized possession. (On another note, do not become a splurging thief, though, and steal away the entire next restocked batch before I locate this jewel on my patient neck, please and thank you.)
If you're looking for something and you can't find it, there's a 100% chance you haven't searched hard enough. As the wise Dory DeGeneres always says, 'Just keep swimming!'
1. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but not me
2. My favorite teacher always told me to never stop writing
3. Sharing is caring, right?
4. Might be cool
Now what? Well, in order for me to keep writing, ideas are required. Just like in order for you to keep on reading, you must find a common interest in these words. Via this blog, I will bestow on you something for you to take away.
Some people just stumble across fascinating things haphazardly, while others really sweat their balls out to grasp location location location. If Google Search does not map out where you can find whatever it is you seek, tough. If Google lead you here, you should be feeling lucky. You and I, we might not want the same materialistic/conceptual subjects, but we are humans; we have the same needs. We both know what it's like to want something so badly to the point of needing it. Water becomes pool becomes aquarium in my living room.
The more bills, the more thrills. It kills me to face the fact that the load aplenty in my bank account diminishes to a hideous amount each week. I find a high in searching for material things that are unique and what I had no idea I wanted because priorly, I did not know where it had been all my life. To me, clicking 'submit order' could be analogous to, I don't know, perhaps a man's first post gender change orgasm. A bit too much? Yeah, tell that to my bank security alert system, which can't tell if a thief is attempting to pamper his/herself or if I have mistaken the month of June with Christmas. Hold onto your bumps, you gooses, cause it's just me, the splurging chief. It's silly to think that one click of a mouse or a tap of a touch pad can tickle my happy bone to the extent that it does. You should see me 5-8 business days later when I go all Russian spy on FedEx trucks.
As humans, we are always searching, be it for happiness, love, freedom, recipes, memories, lost relations...etc. All searches, new and old, spike the punch of life. They just do. My daily searches are modern day pirate hunts. There are all kinds of hidden gems and jewelries in the world, and the internet is my map to fruition. Maybe I spoil myself too much, or maybe I should be charged for well spent self-indulgence. I purchase more outfits than I get occasions to wear them and yet I still find it necessary to push the cart past checkout. There is only one person that I want to check me out, too, and I could wear bland clothing instead of brands for all he cares. Still, I persist in my searches, my love-lust relationship with concrete entities, as if it were my job. Is there such a thing as a professional shopaholic? If so, I got a raise ten minutes ago.
Ten minutes ago I joined a waiting list for an item that I only today realized exists, and exists beautifully, might I add. Earlier, I had first laid eyes on this necessity of a necklace, but lo and behold, I was bummed out shortly after. 'Out of stock'- every consumer's worst daymare. I went ballistic on Google Search, Google Shopping, Google Images, Etsy, eBay, Shopbop, and more, attempting to find a replica or at least that which is resembling. I was about to settle with an equivalent charm when I stared longingly at the necklace on the original Dogeared site until my sight wandered to 'Out of stock- coming back soon!' Sure, I didn't have to search long and hard to get to that point and turn into one blithe bum, but at least the experience reassured me that this golden charm is one whaley whaley prized possession. (On another note, do not become a splurging thief, though, and steal away the entire next restocked batch before I locate this jewel on my patient neck, please and thank you.)
If you're looking for something and you can't find it, there's a 100% chance you haven't searched hard enough. As the wise Dory DeGeneres always says, 'Just keep swimming!'
Dogeared Gold Dipped Whale Charm Necklace
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