Sigh.

Have any idea where these are from?

Want to guess what I want? Those. THOSE THOSE THOSE THOSE THOSE.

I've been having a real boy-meets-girl fixation right now. You know, flowing dresses under thick sweaters with clunky boots with socks. This was probably brought on by the J. Crew catalog that I've also been a bit focused on.

Well, the boots are basically everything I want wrapped up into a pair of shoes. The socks, the leather, and the rubber sole all scream masculine, but then contrast with the height makes me swoon. I've been staring at it for who knows how long. The only thing that's stopping me is the price. $258. Sigh. I suppose that will have to be a Christmas ask-for- gift, which is far too much time to wait for my comfort---even though they've already put up the Christmas decorations in the mall. (Ridiculous, no?)

I do

OK, sorry I haven't posted in a really long time because.... I don't know, I just haven't. I've basically been living under a rock and I've had no inspiration. That's about it.

So let us return to the blogging by talking about me and my needs!

I've found my wedding ring, again. From where, you ask? Tiffany's, of course!

And let me tell you, when I am proposed to, (if, that is, I am), I am going to need to see the ring first, because that is simply how it works for me. And I would like at least 1 and 1/2 carats, please. With the band, it's about $25,000, but I still want it. And I will have it or I will buy it for myself and make up an imaginary husband.

I also am strangely fond of this J.Crew dress. It's gorgeous, and I usually wouldn't go for that sort of thing, but I find myself slightly transfixed. I think it's because of the tiered affect of the skirt, and the neckline, and the lace. The softness, you know.

The softness is also in her hair, and her face, because she's like, "Oh! Me? You're taking my picture? Well I better pose and smile with my eyes just like Tyra taught me to!"

Speaking of hair, I miss mine, and don't make fun of me or say I told you so, because it's not that I didn't like my hair, because it was clearly fabulous, but I just miss something to play with in math class. But then when I really have nothing else to do, I feel badly about growing it out because I feel like I'm conforming. And I hate conforming. Hate beyond hate, because you know that every single girl has long hair. It's not because I want to look like other people, I just want long hair. If they all had short hair, then I'd still want long hair.

So that's my little inner conflict for the day. It's very important, I know.

dun dun dun dunnnn dun dun dun dunnnnn.... Never Mind, That Sounds Like Darth Vader's Theme Song.

Today marks the day that there are five days left until yours truly attends Parsons The New School for Design. I still have not received my course information or supply list though, and that dream of Tim Gunn is becoming more and more vivid. Speaking of which… have you seen the commercial for the new season of Project Runway? I’m very excited.

The J. Crew catalog came today. I pine for the soft Italian cashmere and knee-high leather boots, but they will come in due time. I have an excess of those already. Now, I must focus on something far more garish: feather jackets.

The glamour of this consumes me. A feather jacket such as this one would make it impossible to have a bad day, so it would be worn every day. This must sound really superficial of me, with material possessions making me happiest, and, well, I have no argument. It's true, and I enjoy every minute of it.

That, my dears, is what I call love at first sight. I wish I didn’t call everything else magnificent now, because then you would truly be able to understand my feelings towards this vest. You don’t know how many hours I have spent online shopping for this under $500. You can, however, imagine how much success I have yielded. Correct, none.

The catalog also gave me an idea. Actually, that’s not fair, It didn’t give me an idea, I stole it.

White brogues with a wedding dress! I think that they will be my shoes of choice when I marry, not that I don’t have twenty years to change my mind…