Wednesday, April 3, 2013


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Hat: Urban Outfitters. Top: H&M. Shorts: GoJane. Tights: H&M. Boots: Urban Outfitters.

Dear world...

Why don't I seem to give a fuck anymore? It's almost as if I have become more apathetic by the day. I mean, maybe it's because I'm anxious for the next chapter to begin in my life and I'm so fucking tired of J-school (journalism school for those who actually studied something real) and I'm disillusioned from being a journalist. If I ever hear the term "nut graf" one more fucking time, I the way, this will not change the title of my blog. Why? Because I am waaaay too lazy to rename it.

Typically, I get out of bed. I stare at the clock. I can sleep for five more minutes, I tell myself. I then lazily do the reading for some shit I should have read the night before. I sit in bed, smelly and ugly, go find some random shit to eat, and then return to my sanctuary to fart freely, the way I can't when I'm in class. I get dressed in some semblance of a cute outfit, depending on my mood. I sometimes even bother to put on makeup if I really wanna impress motherfuckers today. I beg someone in the house to drop my needy ass off to the Metra station because 

a) do not have a car
b) am now commuting, which sucks more cock than a groupie
c) am a fucking dependent loser
d) all of the above

 I get on the train and contemplate who to sit by based on their gender and age--old ladies are the best because they really don't give a shit. Why? Because they're usually asleep. Headphones in, I hope the conductors skip over me so I can get a free ride. When they come up to me with that clipper thingy, I die a little bit inside.

Go to school, which I now hate because it's full of assholes and I'm tired of learning about journalism when I don't even want to go into that field anymore. Plus, pretentious dickfaces and bitchfucks galore who are talking about their "album" or their next "modeling shoot." Go home tired if I didn't work, scrape off my hot girl disguise as Jenna Marbles would put it, ponder why my brother hates the shit out of me and doesn't talk to me anymore, ponder my forever alone existence, etc. I'm too lazy to even comb my hair, which is essential because it's not mine and therefore can get tangled if not taken care of. I eat. A lot. I tell myself I should stop, but I never gain any weight, and the scale in my house says I lost TWENTY pounds while I was sick with strep and mono. *shrugs* Eat without brushing my teef even though I should and in the past, I've had cavities galore--I was a lazy shit back then, too!--watch YouTube videos about nothing, fall asleep way too late, just wondering when my life won't suck balls the way it does now. When will I move out? When will I get a boyfriend? When will I figure out my life? How the hell did I take my pants off in my sleep?

I hope you guys enjoyed that little aside. I have some shit to scrape off my face. It's called apricot scrub. It's been there for a while. 

Here's James Blake's new single. 

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Teenage Wasteland

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Tomorrow's outfit is indicative of how much I loathe(d) school. Top from Topshop, ironically.

I seriously have seen Saved! one too many times. In my mind, it's one of the best teen comedies. Not to mention it tackles a subject everyone's really iffy about, religion. Me, I hate the idea of organized religion because it seems to cult-like for me, and even though I was baptized, I don't consider myself a Christian anymore, much to the chagrin of my extremely religious family. But anyway, I digress (like I normally do)

This movie is just one of many that remind me of the hell that everyone experiences known as high school. I think I can accredit this place to forming my cynicism, among other things. Basically, I never felt like I fit in--oh wow, woe is you, you whiny bitch--and I just fucking hated everyone. 

I was educated at Thrornidge High School. Population, too fucking many. Location, the toilet I called my neighborhood. Graduation rate, not enough. Asshole rate, a lot. Okay, you might be thinking, 'shut up, high school sucks for everyone, people just suck in general.' For me, it's different. See, this school was predominately black. You'd shit your pants to see one of seven Hispanic kids or the couple of white kids who were now wiggers because of their environment. Everyday we dodged fights, were subjected to random searches upon entering the building, and at one point, someone apparently tried to burn it down. (Not posting that just because I was interviewed, either, I swear.)

Constantly, I wondered when I'd get out of this hellhole and why I was subjected to this fuckers on a daily basis. All the girls were hostile bitches with bad style and shitty attitudes. Can someone explain why most black girls are so fucking angry all the time? You can't look at any of them without them thinking you're hating or you want to start shit. And don't get me started on these guys, piss poor examples of how not to be in life. So many baggy jeans wearing, disrespectful assholes who feel entitled when they "holler" at you. I was so turned off from black men going to this school. I didn't date anyone. I tried to date a Hispanic kid, but he was a fucktard and called me the N word at one point, so I dropped my interest in him after that. No homecoming dances, no prom, no anything. And I didn't care. I was just lucky to have my handful of friends who weren't ratchet, weren't crazy, and hated the school as much as I did. So in a nutshell, high school was ass for me, but I guess it prepared me for how ass the rest of the world is. I thought going to college would be a welcome change from all these stupid black people. I was basically thrust into a bubble with stupid white people. It never changes. 

So yeah...okay, I ramble a lot. I guess what I really mean is that I've always felt like an outcast. I never fit in anywhere and even now, with my blue hair, I feel like I'm alienating myself even more. People thought I was weird in high school because of how I dressed and the music I listened to. But whatever. High school is temporary. Unfortunately, I'm still feeling residual teen angst though my 22nd birthday is coming up. Is that any symptom of how much it affected me? 

And because I can't ditch any post without some music, here ya go. 

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

I Love a Man in Uniform

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Jacket: Forever 21. Pin: Hot Topic. Jeans: Topshop. Shoes: Kmart. Hat: H&M. Tie: French Toast.

I suck with these regular postings, I know. It's terrible. Ignore my lazy shit for brains, please.

Decided to be a dude in heels a few weeks ago. I think it worked out well. I wore ties in high school circa 2008 because I was fascinated with androgyny. Hence the tie, bowler hat, and button-up. Or button-down. Seriously, who decided to call it two different things?

I'm on my spring break and I'm doing absolutely nothing. Everyone else is getting shitfaced and living it up. I'm at home being a dork. *rolls eyes* CAN I FUCKING MOVE OUT ALREADY???

This band's been doing a good job of easing my pain. They might do the same for you. If not, you just suck. (Fun fact: Brits simply make better music.)

Monday, March 4, 2013


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Top: My dad's. Bodysuit: American Apparel. Shoes: Converse. Cross necklace: Forever 21. Pearls: My mom's. 

Thought I'd go for a Molly Ringwald/80s/Didn't give a shit look today. I was originally going to wear my new YRU Qozmo sneakers, but I knew I'd be doing too much walking to be in 4 inch platforms all day. I just love my Converse. These beat-up ass sneakers have been with me since middle school. That's a long ass fucking time.

Last time I wore this bodysuit, it was Halloween. Guess who I was.
Give up? I was Alex DeLarge from A Clockwork Orange. In 2011, I became a little obsessed with that movie and its imagery. And I was a little too amused by that rape scene when he was singing "I'm Singin' in the Rain." Whatever. I have issues.

By the way, whoever said being a journalist was fun lied. There's nothing fun about transcribing a bunch of interviews. Word for word. God-DAYUM this is tedious. I just want to sleep. The third season of True Blood is my background music, and I'm slowly contemplating a junk-food induced nap because I just can't deal. Never getting sick again. 

By the way, that Lumineers CD sucks. It was boring as hell. All that excitement for shit.

Friday, March 1, 2013

Spice Girls Swag

My new YRU Qozmo shoes came. They are huge. They are clunky. They look ridiculous. My mom hates the fuck out of them. She thinks I am crazy.

But I really don't care. These are my Spice Girls shoes. This is my ode to Scary Spice. On a list of fierce women I adore, she is definitely on such list. She did a mean leopard print, parachute pant, made me wish my stomach was awesome enough for bare midriffs, and made me pine for camouflage. I love that crazy bish.

Of course I am aware that everyone will find me strange and unusual and will be a definite man-repeller. Whatever.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013


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Top: Random. Coat and pants: Topshop. Shoes: Urban Outfitters. Necklace: H&M. 

My sickness is almost over and I'm so happy. The time spent wallowing in pain, not going any-fucking-where, and watching damn near all of my True Blood DVDs has been put toward basically nothing. Today I have to haul ass on my studies. Not exactly happy about this. I have to call a bunch of people for interviews for my journalism classes. Can I just say that I'm just about sick of school and can't wait for it to be over? All I want to do is move to Chicago, continue working at Topshop, and hopefully land a paid internship somewhere before I decide what I want to do next. Whatever that is, it has to involve traveling. I love you Chicago, but after a while, I just want to go somewhere else. Though I really do enjoy the limited places I've been here (I don't live there at the moment, so I get out less frequently) like Reckless Records in Wicker Park where I can get CDs for a dollar or two. Or the Indian restaurant Sultan's in Wicker that I stop by to get a good chicken shawerma between classes. Or the cool sex stores in Boystown where me and a friend have purchased a good toy. (I need another one, come to think of it.) Anyways. Yeah. (See, I really don't get out that much lol)

I love these pants I bought from Topshop. They were only...what, $15 when all was said and done? I get 25% off sale items and 60% off regular items. Sounds awesome, right? We only get four pieces of said 60% off items lol. They don't wanna spoil us TOO hard. I bought the coat when I first started working there. It went from $150 to a whopping $40 when I snagged. Yeah. I like sales.

this is the best burger i have ever eaten.

Food porn outburst. It happens.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Mixtape: You Sick Fuck, You

I am sicker than that thing, if you read correctly in my previous post.

I said it once, and I will say it again: DON'T FUCKING GET STREP THROAT AND/OR MONO. Do not fucking share drinks with motherfuckers, don't smoke off them, don't use their toothbrushes--eew.--just do not trust them because human mouths are the absolute most disgusting places on earth, even more disgusting than Kat Stacks' pussy. Ahem. So anyways, here's a few songs about being a sick puppy. Or that reference being a sick puppy. 

Tuesday, February 19, 2013


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Top: Urban Outfitters. Blazer: H&M. Necklace: Nastygal. Pants: American Apparel. Shoes; Doc Martens.

The pants have made another appearance. What can I say? They're fabulous. I'd make a short little anecdote about this outfit--another 90s channeling, yadda yadda--but I have to tell you guys something.


*composes self* Okay. That is all. By the way, the title is inspired by Rooney and my blue blazer. I miss the days of those pop-punk bands when they were super relevant. And with Fall Out Boy reuniting and stuff, it makes me wax nostalgic. Back in high school, all I did was fangirl over FOB, My Chemical Romance, and Panic! at the Disco. (Other bands too, but they were my top three.) *sighs* Those were the days.

Friday, February 8, 2013


Leggings: Nastygal. Boots: Doc Martens. Necklace: Forever 21. Sweatshirt: My dad's.

Short post today because I'm having issues getting my stupid shit together on Windows 8. Blecch. I fucking hate W8. I miss the simpler interface of W7. I don't even have basic shit like paint on my new laptop--I dropped my old one cuz I'm a derp--and it blows. There's also no external sound, which I need to get fixed. But it's pink. And it's adorable. And it last like 4 and a half hours. Yes.

We are in the month of Forever Alone, people. It has fallen upon us. Personally, I don't give two fucks about V-day and even if I was in a relationship, I'd hate it. It's a stupid made up holiday. But whatever. I still owe you guys a story about my life, so here's a snippet:

So, at the ERC (enclosed retail compound), they like to throw these things called 'office parties' that involve free liquor and the occasional employee dancing on a table and subsequently getting fired. Womp.

Well, back in January, I attended such office party. Here's what went down.

SAB (Strange and Beautiful AKA me): *le walks into bar and doesn't find friends automatically
GAS (grown and sexy): *le sees SAB and waves.
SAB: *le runs away because I feel awkward and decide to get my drank on
GAS: *le follows SAB and happens upon her five minutes later
SAB: (thinking) OMFG this nigga is following me
GAS: (sits his fine ass down and starts talking to me) Hey. I was waiting on you to show up.
SAB: Pfft. Shyah right.
GAS: No, seriously! I even went grocery shopping to kill some time.
SAB: (thinking) OMG he better be telling the truth holy shit

Time passes. Then  GATHI (guy also tryna hit it) shows up. He looks like Jamie Foxx. He and GAS are bros.


GAS and GATHI chat it up but then GATHI leaves and tells me I look soooo sexy. Cool.

Friends show up. We talk. We dance. I'm tipsy.

Me and GAS dance to Daft Punk and end up grinding at one point. Duh.

Eventually SAB has to go home because she doesn't live in the city and shit. 
SAB: I'm leaving.
GAS: I'll walk you somewhere. (goes outside and decides I'm drunk to require him to hold my hand so I don't fall down)
In front of 7-Eleven, we stop.

GAS: There's your cab.
SAB: I don't wanna get in yet...dude, I really like you...just...come here. (grabs face and begins making out in front of 7-Eleven. Full on.

GAS: Oh are soo fucking sexy. I've got a semi.
Make out session goes on for like 5 minutes. He then finds out I am a virgin--ie a unicorn--and thinks its cool. Huh?
Eventually, I have to leave so we share a final lip rape and then I go home. Maaan, That. was. Awesome.

Stay tuned for more because this is most entertainment I'll get from a guy in a while!