I can hear my sister making fun of me now.
Showing posts with label Covet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Covet. Show all posts
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
BULLS#!T
Okay J.Crew.
I get it.
I get that every time you guys have a corporate meeting, priority numero uno is: "how can we make Molly's life suck exponentially more?"
A veritable gaggle of cashmere sweaters in new colors?
Maybe.
Seductive, feather-light silk shells that work under cardigans and blazers?
Slightly painful.
Creating a line of breathtaking wedding apparel when I have no need for such a thing?
Torture.
But this?
This latest stunt of yours?
Hilarious.
I get that every time you guys have a corporate meeting, priority numero uno is: "how can we make Molly's life suck exponentially more?"
A veritable gaggle of cashmere sweaters in new colors?
Maybe.
Seductive, feather-light silk shells that work under cardigans and blazers?
Slightly painful.
Creating a line of breathtaking wedding apparel when I have no need for such a thing?
Torture.
But this?
This latest stunt of yours?
Hilarious.
And not so much in a funny "ha ha ha" kind of way.
More like a funny "stab stab stab" way.
Seriously, J.Crew.
Making your factory store available ONLINE?
A bounty of beautifully constructed and moderately-priced classic fashion at my fingertips?
That's just low.
Even if it IS only on the weekends.
My bank account and I do not approve.
More like a funny "stab stab stab" way.
Seriously, J.Crew.
Making your factory store available ONLINE?
A bounty of beautifully constructed and moderately-priced classic fashion at my fingertips?
That's just low.
Even if it IS only on the weekends.
My bank account and I do not approve.
Bibliophilia
I would be completely okay...
from here...with and entire library filled with books like these.
Gorgeous.
Gorgeous.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Saturday, March 21, 2009
The Economy Can Suck It
Seriously.
Life is expensive these days.
Rather, MY life is expensive.
I'm trying to be cheap.
I really am.
It's just...not possible.
I mean, I don't consider myself to be high-maintenance in any way, shape, or form (Blake might disagree with that statement, but whatever. I cook him dinner three to four nights a week so if he's complaining, he's not doing it loudly).
Except for the fact that I flatly refuse to dine at buffets (Lara and Amber did come close to getting me in the doors of one last weekend but thankfully the plans fell through...whew, dodged a bullet) or shop at Wal-Mart. But both of those are based strictly on moral and/or hygienic reasoning. Not because I'm trying to be difficult.
My problem is not the degree to which I need to be maintained, but the degree to which my imagination functions. Meaning, once I decide on something in my head the chances of my being wholly satisfied with something other than my originally planned idea are...well, non-existent.
Case in point: bedspreads.
My last post (no, I'm not posting a link. Stop being lazy and scroll down) was in regards to a quilt set that I spied while suffering through the romantic comedy nightmare that was and is "He's Just Not That Into You."
**Okay, maybe the movie itself wasn't all that horrifying...I'm just bitter that people who are that good-looking are expected to be believable when they sit around in their fabulously over-priced clothing in their $5000 a month apartments and bitch about how their relationships suck. I'm sorry, but no.
I looove that bedspread.
I am actually embarrassed to admit how much time I have wasted while scouring the interwebs for its likeness. To no avail.
I want it.
I need it.
But it is nowhere to be found.
And, in truth, probably only exists in that very film because it was probably specially made by some fantastic couture designer as a favor to the set-stylist, considering that most in the profession do not simply run out to Bed, Bath and Beyond and fetch any old bedspread for a multi-million dollar movie.
No no.
Because then how on earth would they ever torture people like me?People who will never be fully satisfied with the state of their bedclothes unless it involves that very article of bedding?People who find perfectly acceptable (and probably cheaper) replacements are Target, but still can't get the magical concept of this ethereal, unattainable comforter out of their stupid heads, and will therefore never really *like* said replacement.
You see what I mean?
I'm losing my mind.
Over a BEDSPREAD.
The hell?
Which brings me to my next point: couches.
Blake and I had a discussion about couches tonight.
Why? Well...that part is not important right now. My guess is that the reason will probably be apparent by the time you're done reading this post, but I also have a feeling that my mother would be reallysuperpissed if I wrote about it on here and didn't officially tell her first. Even though I kind of already did. But whatever.
Okay.
So, couches.
My current couch is, in a word, unacceptable.I
t's older than I am.
Seriously. There are pictures of me as an infant on this couch.
It's comfortable and has a large amount of sentimental value, but as far as furniture goes, it's number is totally up.
Blake's couch is newer, a good size, and comfortable. The only real flaw is that the cushions are not attached to the sofa itself, so the slide out when you sit down and you have to keep readjusting them, which is annoying.
Oh, and it's also red and green plaid.
So, there's that.
Basically, in a few months I want a new couch.
Simple enough, right?
No, not really.
Not if you're us.
Because I want a neutral color.
Blake wants something "bold" (his words, not mine- hence parentheticals)So, I engaged a compromise:Purple.
That's right.
If I can't have the awesome bedding that I want, I will at least have a purple couch.
To which he responded:"Whatever, I don't really care right now."But I do.
Because my crazy imagination (the one that won't allow me to let go of ideas to the point the it threatens my emotional well-being) was already taking the concept of a purple couch and running with it.
To the point where I have throw-pillows and lamps picked out.
Not to mention wall decor.
I'm not even kidding.
So, what did I do when I got to work tonight?
Why, Googled "purple couches", of course.
And this is what greeted me.
It is amazing.
It is perfect.
And I want it.
Except for one minor detail.
I don't have $1900.
Not to spend on a couch.
So, to Craigslist I did go.
And once again searched the magice words. In Springfield AND Peoria AND Chicago AND Bloomington-Normal.
I found a couple.
But they looked gross.
And probably smelled like dog.
Maybe my mom will buy me a new one...Or maybe I'll just have to put up with seating arrangements that look like they belong under Christmas trees.
And my brain will be unsatisified because it will be forever fixated on the idea of a purple couch.
And I'll get all depresssed and eat lots of ice cream.And it will be all YOUR fault, Economy.
All your fault
Life is expensive these days.
Rather, MY life is expensive.
I'm trying to be cheap.
I really am.
It's just...not possible.
I mean, I don't consider myself to be high-maintenance in any way, shape, or form (Blake might disagree with that statement, but whatever. I cook him dinner three to four nights a week so if he's complaining, he's not doing it loudly).
Except for the fact that I flatly refuse to dine at buffets (Lara and Amber did come close to getting me in the doors of one last weekend but thankfully the plans fell through...whew, dodged a bullet) or shop at Wal-Mart. But both of those are based strictly on moral and/or hygienic reasoning. Not because I'm trying to be difficult.
My problem is not the degree to which I need to be maintained, but the degree to which my imagination functions. Meaning, once I decide on something in my head the chances of my being wholly satisfied with something other than my originally planned idea are...well, non-existent.
Case in point: bedspreads.
My last post (no, I'm not posting a link. Stop being lazy and scroll down) was in regards to a quilt set that I spied while suffering through the romantic comedy nightmare that was and is "He's Just Not That Into You."
**Okay, maybe the movie itself wasn't all that horrifying...I'm just bitter that people who are that good-looking are expected to be believable when they sit around in their fabulously over-priced clothing in their $5000 a month apartments and bitch about how their relationships suck. I'm sorry, but no.
I looove that bedspread.
I am actually embarrassed to admit how much time I have wasted while scouring the interwebs for its likeness. To no avail.
I want it.
I need it.
But it is nowhere to be found.
And, in truth, probably only exists in that very film because it was probably specially made by some fantastic couture designer as a favor to the set-stylist, considering that most in the profession do not simply run out to Bed, Bath and Beyond and fetch any old bedspread for a multi-million dollar movie.
No no.
Because then how on earth would they ever torture people like me?People who will never be fully satisfied with the state of their bedclothes unless it involves that very article of bedding?People who find perfectly acceptable (and probably cheaper) replacements are Target, but still can't get the magical concept of this ethereal, unattainable comforter out of their stupid heads, and will therefore never really *like* said replacement.
You see what I mean?
I'm losing my mind.
Over a BEDSPREAD.
The hell?
Which brings me to my next point: couches.
Blake and I had a discussion about couches tonight.
Why? Well...that part is not important right now. My guess is that the reason will probably be apparent by the time you're done reading this post, but I also have a feeling that my mother would be reallysuperpissed if I wrote about it on here and didn't officially tell her first. Even though I kind of already did. But whatever.
Okay.
So, couches.
My current couch is, in a word, unacceptable.I
t's older than I am.
Seriously. There are pictures of me as an infant on this couch.
It's comfortable and has a large amount of sentimental value, but as far as furniture goes, it's number is totally up.
Blake's couch is newer, a good size, and comfortable. The only real flaw is that the cushions are not attached to the sofa itself, so the slide out when you sit down and you have to keep readjusting them, which is annoying.
Oh, and it's also red and green plaid.
So, there's that.
Basically, in a few months I want a new couch.
Simple enough, right?
No, not really.
Not if you're us.
Because I want a neutral color.
Blake wants something "bold" (his words, not mine- hence parentheticals)So, I engaged a compromise:Purple.
That's right.
If I can't have the awesome bedding that I want, I will at least have a purple couch.
To which he responded:"Whatever, I don't really care right now."But I do.
Because my crazy imagination (the one that won't allow me to let go of ideas to the point the it threatens my emotional well-being) was already taking the concept of a purple couch and running with it.
To the point where I have throw-pillows and lamps picked out.
Not to mention wall decor.
I'm not even kidding.
So, what did I do when I got to work tonight?
Why, Googled "purple couches", of course.
And this is what greeted me.
It is amazing.
It is perfect.
And I want it.
Except for one minor detail.
I don't have $1900.
Not to spend on a couch.
So, to Craigslist I did go.
And once again searched the magice words. In Springfield AND Peoria AND Chicago AND Bloomington-Normal.
I found a couple.
But they looked gross.
And probably smelled like dog.
Maybe my mom will buy me a new one...Or maybe I'll just have to put up with seating arrangements that look like they belong under Christmas trees.
And my brain will be unsatisified because it will be forever fixated on the idea of a purple couch.
And I'll get all depresssed and eat lots of ice cream.And it will be all YOUR fault, Economy.
All your fault
Monday, March 16, 2009
If you wanted...
You could buy me this bedspread.*
Or, at least find out who makes it?
Because I'm not having any luck.
Someone needs to invent a search engine where you just upload pictures of things
and it tells you what they are or who makes them.**
And stuff like that.
Other than bedding, I'm not very interesting today.
*Bradley Cooper optional, but appreciated.
**Do you hear me, Jordan from Status King? That's your next project.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Out of my mind
With boredom.
That is why I am posting twice in, like, four hours.
Someone give me a good book to read.
Or a title of one.
Whatever it takes.
I feel like my brain is going to liquefy and leak out my nose at any moment.
I heart my job.
A couple of things, while we're at it.
That is why I am posting twice in, like, four hours.
Someone give me a good book to read.
Or a title of one.
Whatever it takes.
I feel like my brain is going to liquefy and leak out my nose at any moment.
I heart my job.
A couple of things, while we're at it.
Want.
As they say on ICanHasCheezburger.
What? You don't know what ICanHasCheezburger is?
You suck.
Click on the link and discover greatness.
As they say on ICanHasCheezburger.
What? You don't know what ICanHasCheezburger is?
You suck.
Click on the link and discover greatness.
Will someone please explain to me why I have 6 different kinds of chapstick in my purse?
SIX.
I've only had it since last Thursday.
I think I need an intervention.
I'm sick of painting my nails black and gray, but I don't know what other colors to paint them.
It's not even close to Spring yet, so I can't really do fun happy colors like pink or blue. Lest the InStyle monarchs swoop down and carry me off to the place where they send offenders who also carry fanny packs and do that whole "dark underneath, bleached on top" hairstyle. Note to those people: it does not make your look pretty. It makes you look like a skunk. A skunk who carries a little nylon pouch around it's waist.
I am not talented enough to do a french manicure.
Nor am I classy/sophisticated enough for red.
Don't even say that I should leave them unpolished, because that's just cruel and wrong.
I kind of miss having acrylics, because you didn't have to paint them.
But I don't miss them that much because they destroyed my nails for almost a year and they are muy expensivo.
Someone sent the office a huge tiered arrangement of Ferrero Rocher truffles. And wouldn't you know, it was still sitting in the same spot when I walked in last night.
So I had to be locked in an office alone, for an entire eight hours, with a dozen Ferrero Rocher hazelnut chocolate truffles. Unable to leave.
Yeah, that was fun and I don't hate myself at all. That's a lie.
Also, will someone please tell me why I am constantly having conversations like this:
M: So...how much do you love me?
B: Yes, you can come over and do laundry.
SIX.
I've only had it since last Thursday.
I think I need an intervention.
I'm sick of painting my nails black and gray, but I don't know what other colors to paint them.
It's not even close to Spring yet, so I can't really do fun happy colors like pink or blue. Lest the InStyle monarchs swoop down and carry me off to the place where they send offenders who also carry fanny packs and do that whole "dark underneath, bleached on top" hairstyle. Note to those people: it does not make your look pretty. It makes you look like a skunk. A skunk who carries a little nylon pouch around it's waist.
I am not talented enough to do a french manicure.
Nor am I classy/sophisticated enough for red.
Don't even say that I should leave them unpolished, because that's just cruel and wrong.
I kind of miss having acrylics, because you didn't have to paint them.
But I don't miss them that much because they destroyed my nails for almost a year and they are muy expensivo.
Someone sent the office a huge tiered arrangement of Ferrero Rocher truffles. And wouldn't you know, it was still sitting in the same spot when I walked in last night.
So I had to be locked in an office alone, for an entire eight hours, with a dozen Ferrero Rocher hazelnut chocolate truffles. Unable to leave.
Yeah, that was fun and I don't hate myself at all. That's a lie.
Also, will someone please tell me why I am constantly having conversations like this:
M: So...how much do you love me?
B: Yes, you can come over and do laundry.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
If You Wanted To
You could buy me this bed.
And a new laptop.
And a new car.
And plane tickets to Alabama.
kthxbye.
And a new car.
And plane tickets to Alabama.
kthxbye.
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