Life and Style
by hannah
September 8th, 2010
photo: Daily Candy; outfit: www.shopnastygal.com, $82
My caveat to “I LOVE this outfit” is: I wouldn’t pair it together. Two prints in one outfit, for me, is dicy. And if you’re going to do it, one of the prints should be extremely subtle. The top, I would wear with some skinny jeans and my gold stilletos; the bottom, my off-the-shoulder solid black blousy tee from American Apparel.
Feedback from FB about September style: jeggings (jeans+leggings=jeggings), anything creme colored, wedge heels/boots, oversized sweaters, and BF button-ups (I would cinch that with a big wide belt around the waist, otherwise it’s too 1990). Thank you Sasha Jones and Dana Miller.
by hannah
September 6th, 2010
Last week Berkely told me I needed to show my body more, “cause then they’ll know you actually fucked like that.”
She was referring to my books, but still, I resented the way she used “fucked” in past tense, as if my sex life was over…maybe I should have taken PeeWee’s advice and gone down to San Diego this weekend after all. It’s not like I got any other exciting offers. None. Zero. Not one phone call, text, or email inviting me to any labour day festivities. I tweeted: I think people are scared of me. Thinking that, made me feel better. I didn’t want to think about the alternative.
And then, Friday morning, a call from Coco “We’re going to an all night Burning Man party Saturday. DJs, freaks, and simulating the burning of the man. Wanna come?”
I love Coco, her and I have the best bitch sessions about our hubbies, and how we want to have sex with Jon Hamm, but honestly, I don’t get Burning Man. It sounds like Woodstock meets Halloween. But longer, and in the desert. And the music is more electronica than Bob Dylan. Oh yeah, and you have to pay hundreds of dollars to get in.
I decide I’m going to Malibu instead. Alone.
by hannah
September 3rd, 2010
PeeWee, one of my friends on FB, thinks I should go to San Diego this weekend and seduce hubbie. He also thinks we should have a real wedding one day. And that having kids doesn’t save a marriage.
PeeWee is full of good advice today. But I tell PeeWee I’m not in the mood for any of the above right now.
God I used to be such a bitch when hubbie would leave for a production gig. Like a night without him would just burst my little world. I’d make him pay for it, by whining or being cold-hearted or indifferent when I would see him or talk to him on the phone. I’m sure he was thinking “why the eff did I marry this attention whore?” It wasn’t about that though. I just want what I want, when I want it, and I can be really impatient.
Now, I want some alone time. I don’t think that makes him happy either. I know he was kinda upset that I didn’t want to drive down with him last weekend, “but I’ll be gone for three weeks.”
I stared at the ceiling as he packed and told him I needed to get more work done on the next book, and get my corporate sponsorship proposal finished, and continue looking for work. Get my life in order. Start kicking some ass and get somewhere with my life, like I used to be able to do, before this…identity crisis.
