06|29|2009
1. “book club” attire. 2. boring outfit. 3. romper.
I can’t believe we’re at the end of June already! Time certainly flies.
Also, I’d like to do a bit of bragging right now & exclaim that I made it to 1,000,000 hits on apricot tea!!! Wooooo! One million, guys! That’s like… a lot. & pretty monumental, if you ask me. Of course, I couldn’t have accomplished such an amazing feat if it weren’t for you lovely readers. THANK YOU. I have so much love for all of you that it’s practically oozing out of my ears.
also, there is an important update on ask apricot.
06|25|2009
tube romper & sandals are from target; belt is vintage; necklace is from H&M; lipstick is MAC in Ladybug.
I feel like I should say thank you to all of you who were so kind enough to leave comments on my previous post. It wasn’t by any means easy to publish, but I knew that I had the ability to help someone with my story; or… to at least get them thinking. All of the emails, comments, & twitter direct messages I received over the last few days are a testament to that.
I appreciate every single one of you who poured their hearts out to me. Seriously, from the bottom of my heart: Thank you. Your love & encouragement keeps me doing what I do here, even when I feel so insignificant.
& I meant to say all of that on a video blog, to have it be more personal, but the words never came to me. I hope this is sufficient enough.
06|23|2009
I remember the very first time my mother & father told me about The Bird & The Bees.
I was about 10 years old, & my little sister & I were outside in our backyard building a snowman. I remember going up to my parent’s bedroom window, knocking on the glass, & showing them the immaculate snow creature I made. I had expected them to be filled with intrigue, & perhaps come outside so they could help name this snow creature. But instead, I was met with my father yelling at me to get away from the window, as he closed the blinds & told me to go back & play. Confused & hurt, I went back to playing in the snow. Several minutes later, my parents called me inside to give me… The Talk.
When I was inside, my father asked me, “What did you see when you were looking through the window? Did you see anything?” I had no idea what he was talking about. I never saw anything. Mostly, I was just hurt by my father’s reaction, & really confused as to why I was being talked to.
Thus, The Talk was given. While my sister was out frolicking in the snow, my parents sat me down in the living room, with books upon books, explaining the anatomy of a man & woman, where babies came from, & how sex was created by God for those who are married. During the conversation, I remember being really grossed out by men’s penises & pubic hair, & I remember having a hard time understanding what sex actually was. But mostly I remember being extremely preoccupied at the fact that my little sister was outside playing in the snow. I wanted to shout to my parents, “HELLO!!! The snow will be melting soon! & I need be out there playing!” But I sat there & listened intently, trying to soak it all in.
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06|17|2009
pants & new sandals are from Ross; purse & necklace are from Forever21; necklaces are my own creations.
Last night, I was looking at Google Analytics, analyzing how people find my blog through interesting keyword searches. & one person found my blog by searching “stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.” I’m not sure which post she — I’m going to assume it’s a ’she’ — found that directed her to my blog, but the search phrase has stuck with me ever since seeing it. It truly is the perfect mantra.
Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.
Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.
Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.
Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.
Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.
Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.
Yes, Ev’Yan, stop it.
& while you’re at it, stop second-guessing yourself.
06|15|2009
lace t-shirt, tights, & grey boots are all from Target; cardigan is from Charlotte Russe; shorts are from Ross; bag is from Forever21; jewelry is miscellaneous/my own creations.
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of going to my very first book club meeting. & I say “book club” loosely — hence, the quotations — because only ONE of us actually read the book (The Monsters of Templeton) in its entirety. We basically discussed the book for all of 10 minutes & then chatted about everything else under the sun. So, it is a “book club” but only barely.
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06|12|2009
Our camera was returned to us on Wednesday afternoon… without the bloody memory card. Which means our pictures are out there somewhere, no doubt in the hands of some ruthless stranger.
I haven’t a clue as to why someone would take a memory card, filled with sentimental photographs that has NOTHING to do with the thief in question, but leave the $700 camera. It baffles me. I just don’t understand the human race. & I can’t help but think that we got our camera back in exchange for our precious pictures.
I shouldn’t complain, because at least our camera was returned to us. I know that my success story has to be one in a trillion. So, I’m grateful, yes, but absolutely bitter that I don’t have the pictures we took throughout the trip. I have decided, though, to name our Nikon D60, because I heard it said once that those who walk this earth without a name have no reason to live. & while Sven (the name I’ve given out Nikon D60) doesn’t walk or live, I figure that giving it a name will ensure that he will always be with us. Perhaps the reason he was lost was because he didn’t have a name. One can only wonder…
Nevertheless, I am forever grateful to everyone who snapped pictures with their impeccable cameras throughout this trip. With your pictures, I can relive the memories all over again without feeling too much of a loss. Because more than likely, my pictures would have been of the same things. So thank you.
Of all the photographs I’ve seen of this trip (between 26 bloggers, there are over 900 pictures) these are the only two pictures I found of myself that weren’t too terribly candid.
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