behold.

My wedding gown.

You know.

Because I'm totally dating someone and we're totally engaged and we're totally getting married.

Okay fine.  Not really.  At all.  BUT.  Regardless.  This is my gown.

but wait.  you say you recognize this?  that a certain Pippa wore it?

I say - I don't care.  I want it anyway.  But I want it in silk jersey.  Cut on the bias.

Make it for me?

the spedes.

My boss recently was hired to the new store that is opening in downtown Salt Lake, and since I don't know what my fate is yet, for the near future, I don't get to work with her.  And it's killing me.

But can I tell you how cool it is to work under an individual who is dynamic and vibrant, while also tough and gutsy?  And who is someone that I want to be just like when I grow up?

My life has taken strange pathways at times... but it is pretty damn cool right now.  If only I could still have Mama Speters as my manager.

mazel tov!

this is what I've been up to recently.

so no.

nothing too out of the ordinary.

gentle persuasion.

Quick update: I moved home to SLC.  Many reasons, including family and proximity to work.

Life is pretty grand, but I do have a tough decision to make coming up here soon.  If you have to choose between working with the friends you love or the mentor you love, which do you choose?

Project Find Someone to Move Into My Room is in full effect.  Any takers?  February rent paid!

Lastly, there is nothing that can match the bliss of sleeping in a California King size bed.  HEAVEN.  SPRAWLED OUT LEGS AND ARMS FROM ONE SIDE OF THE BED TO THE OTHER HEAVEN.

Am I the only one happy to have the snow?

neon and freedom.

See this picture?

This is a picture that I uploaded onto my own server, however it is originally a Bobbi Brown photo from their Neons and Nudes collection.  Neat stuff.  I bought the orange lipstick AND the pink lipstick.  For realsies.  And I fully plan on rocking this look ALLLLLLL spring long.  The image belongs to bobbibrowncosmetics.com.

You've heard of SOPA... right?

Internet piracy is bad.  Stealing things that aren't yours is bad.  Sharing things you don't own with others to use is bad.

The United States government regulating and controlling the internet is bad.


If you want to be able to post cool things you see (with the proper citation, of course), or if you want to be able to pin things on Pinterest, or if you want to generally avoid being like China, send a little message to your representative who will be voting on this.  There's also one called PIPA, which is essentially the same thing, but in the Senate.

Take a lookie and see who your reps are.  MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD.  And just for good measure, I'm linking you to the list of legislators who support either SOPA or PIPA, as compiled by Wikipedia, a website that would be ruined by such legislation.

that girl.

Tonight I was standing (in pain, mind you) at work chatting with my friend Squirrel.  Her name's not actually Squirrel, but at some point we started calling her Squirrel - tracing the origin might be a little complicated, and who knows if she hates it, but she's young and in love, so I'm sure it's all just fine.  So like I said, standing there in the most uncomfortable heels I own (why I decided to wear them today is beyond me), I might have mentioned something about my current status and how my blog probably frightens individuals who are prospective choices for my current status and Squirrel so lovingly responded, "Oooooh.  You're THAT girl aren't you?"

I inquired which girl that might be.

"The one who talks about her ex-boyfriends."


.....

GUILTY!

review. and Dad - don't see this movie.

Just so you know, I'm not recommending this to all of you.  So, don't take this as an endorsement, got it?

Now then.

Finally saw Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.  I mean, I love Daniel Craig, and David Fincher, and I'm indifferent to Rooney Mara, and I find the author's prose to be fairly obnoxious (like I'm being right now, but with less character descriptions of age and hair color), but the soundtrack was pretty cool, so it felt like I "finally" saw it, how ever many weeks it's been out now.  I read the first one sometime last year, read being a loose term.  I was bored and needed a book, and Whitney had it.  I remember her telling me I'd be bored, but I was intrigued nonetheless.  And yeah, I was bored.  I think it took me about four or five months to finish the thing.  Just this dull pacing and completely unlikeable characters and not enough mystery to keep me interested.

Then I found out the "end" of the mystery.... but there were still twelve thousand pages to go.

The movie didn't feel quite like that, but almost.  And not really David Fincher's fault either.  How do you fix something that is important to the latter parts of the series, but terribly plotted?

The beginning of the film felt almost like a shot-by-shot copy of the original from Sweden, but luckily it found its own voice eventually.  Technical elements fell into place: perfect score, beautiful cinematography, and fine acting.  It had shock value, of course - just as the subject warranted.  All in all, it was fine.

You see, I've got this hang up about the movie.

When you're going to watch something that is so graphic, you have to prepare yourself.  Odds are strong that you know it's coming, and when it hits you've braced yourself for something icky.  On one hand, I applaud the material for being honest about something that certainly happens every day, because I'd rather we show the horrible and gruesome things that occur, in the hopes that we can rectify the injustices.  On the other, I can't get over the unnecessary things that seem to be in such direct irony with what (I'm fairly certain) Stieg Larsson meant to comment on.

Spoiler alert: This series is about sexual crimes against women and how most of the world does nothing. It's the sort of thing that Eastern European movies are fraught with, but Google "US sex trafficking" and you'll soon realize that even "moralistic" and "free" countries such as our own have a serious problem.  It's a message that needs to be heard, and sometimes I fear that the sensationalization from the film industry, such as in this adaptation, veils just how hideous all of this is.

I know it's just a movie.  I get it.

But in a story so focused on a woman who enacts revenge on everyone who sexually exploits her, or those who see her only as a sexual object, well... she's physically ogled and exploited.  A lot.  Unnecessarily.  I'm not saying sugar coat everything, and hide what actually happened.  But I mean... after the fifth sex scene in which her entire body is visible?

It's ridiculous.

Maybe I'm alone in this.  Maybe I'm the only one who sees the irony.  Maybe they wanted to show how a positive sexual relationship is to be juxtaposed with a harmful one?

I didn't dislike it.  At all.

But I think we need to stand for a little bit of change here with how women are portrayed.

now that that's done.

Sometimes there will be criticism when someone is as open as I am, but then I get random emails and messages from people stating how my process of grieving has helped them in their own process of grieving.

Lest you think I'm wallowing in a pit of despair, please know this - I'm content with the roller coaster I'm on.  Maybe I'm documenting it a little more than most, and yeah, I genuinely don't know where things are going to go, but it's not a bad ride.

Onward and upward!  With lots of David Bowie and rewatching episodes of Gossip Girl.

also, pie.

this is how the story went.

This is all coming very late in the game, and it's probably very attention whoreish of me, but seeing as tonight was the grand finale in the roller coaster of what-ifs for me, I figured I'd give you some more of the details.

For some reason I've been really loathe to be honest about how I've felt about people for a long time now.  I've dated a couple of guys since Cameron, some of them pretty seriously, but after that ended I stopped being open about my relationships.  It's already scary enough talking about it with other people; having it visible for the entire world to view on a blog is just a bit much.  Truthfully, I learned my lesson.  Unfortunately I still like expressing my emotions, which has to be really frustrating for the rest of you when I don't give out any specifics.

Another reason for being quiet is respect for those that I've dated.  I'm not a blogging sensation (and hopefully never will be), but I still don't want to be airing dirty laundry or wallowing too publicly.

Now that Miss America is over, I feel like it's probably okay to tell a little bit of a story for you.  Maybe I just need this for closure tonight.  Indulge me...please?

My dad lives in Nevada; has for several years.  My official residency has always been with my dad, wherever he is.  I ran for Miss Henderson in March and won the opportunity to go to Miss Nevada.  I was ecstatic.  If you know me well, then you know that I wanted to be a voice heard at Miss America, because (as my desired profession of a writer dictates) I believe I have something important to say, and I saw Miss America as a way to continue pursuing my dreams.

Everything fell into place.  And it was blissful thinking that I could very possibly - finally - get to Miss America.  There was always a nagging feeling though - one of my parents is a very public person.  And my parents aren't married to each other anymore.  And to put it delicately, things are not always pleasant in that sort of situation.

I will not go into details about my family's involvement in my decision to drop out of Miss Nevada.  My parents have always been supportive of anything that I pursue - pageants included.  I chose my family over a trip to Miss America.  And I gave another girl who wasn't going to be distracted or distraught over what was happening to her family the opportunity to compete at Miss Nevada.

There was something else, too, however.  I fell in love with a guy.

I've never written that down.  At least, not in this sort of open context.  It all happened very quickly - too quickly.  I met him, and became infatuated, and realized that it could be real, and in that true, frightening, and scary as shiiiiiiii sense, fell.  I've never done that before. I've loved three people in my life.   Cameron took time.   The other one I've loved took four years for me to realize I loved him.  But there was this handsome Romney-fanatic who loved Arrested Development and beautiful music and had the most amazing mom I've ever met, and I was a goner.

It absolutely had bearing in my decision, because you see, he was possibly going to be in Boston for a few years.  And I would have been in Nevada.  And things were happening with my family.  And I didn't need more complications in my personal life.  So I made my choice.

I don't regret it.

I've been here for my family at a critical time, especially for my best friend as he's gone through some really painful stuff.  It was the right choice.  And I ended up with a job that I adore.  But the story didn't necessarily have that happy ending, because, as luck would have it, I think this decision scared this Jon Hamm-look-a-like off.  And I still don't really know why he raced away so quickly.  It wasn't the easiest thing I've ever dealt with, but I learned a good lesson.

[insert lesson here]

I could pretend that I'm going to be just fine in hoping that I'll find someone who will love me and all that I bring, and that my life is going to continue along in this perfect trajectory of blissful happiness, and that I'll never have any regrets in my life.  But that's just not me.

I'm really scared.

Cameron's getting married.  Did you know that?  The other boy I loved got married last year.  And I honestly have no idea what almost-Romney boy is doing with his life.

It's so ironic to me that every time I "quit" pageants, I had it in my mind that I was choosing not just good, or better, but best... and then they've all ended up marrying other people and doing other things!  I'm really good at connecting things, and seeing the emotional threads to legitimize my feelings, but I can't here.  I don't know why everything is as it is.  Honestly!  I have no idea.  I want to hope that I can find a relationship, but after years of putting opportunities aside for that whole eternity thing, I don't think I can do it anymore.

There's also this sad realization that I've outgrown pageants, not just because I'm "too old" but because it seems too trivial now.  Sort of feels like I've been thrust into a new coming-of-age moment.

So now you know.  Luckily I have cool people and things in my life to not feel so much like a failure or loser, and I don't regret my decision.

That doesn't change the fact, however, that I'll always think back and remember why I chose the way that I did.  Hopefully the next time a boy finds a way to get me to love him I can do it without being scared I'll lose something else.

First Want of the Year

I could build a lot of things around this espadrille.  In fact, I probably will build many things around this espadrille.  Stay tuned - I've got an announcement coming that will probably disgust many of you and hopefully won't mean that I've sold out.

Meanwhile, I will probably need to wait for these to go on sale, but can't you just see yourself sitting in St. Tropez in a white linen dress, drinking the non-alcoholic drink of your choice while watching Manuel sweep up the deck of the yacht you're on?

Sorry... it's cold in Utah.  A girl can dream.

tomorrow would be fun.

There a few things I'd like to see happen for 2012.  I'd like to independently style someone for Sundance (I mean.  This may or may not actually be happening.  Just saying).  I'd also like to do fashion segments for TV stations (again, may or may not actually be happening).  Some incidentals: listen to lots of new music with obscure band names and titles that no one knows just so I can feel cool; read Lord of the Rings just because; sell all of my dresses (pageant!  ballroom!); buy a new car; move up in the world toward more awesomeness.

All possible, right?

For the record, I just want to focus on getting enough sleep, going to the gym 3 times a week (I can do it - I know I can), reading the scrips every day, and writing for thirty minutes a day.

And knowing me, I'll complete the crazy list and totally fail on the basic one.

Do anything fun for the New Year?  I danced with hipster kids and felt really silly in my Sam Edelman heels, but I had a killer smokey eye that I was super proud of, so all is well.  My roomies went to Vegas and probably made out with celebrities.  Maybe next year.

and here's a creepy picture I took of myself because I wanted to remember my eye makeup.