What I learned from the Budgeting class I took at church:
"Your actions will never be sustainable apart from your thinking."
Translation: STOP THINKING ABOUT FAILURE, DOUCHE.
(I honestly picked up some great information and quite a few nuggets that I'm going to chew on and contemplate before regurgitating them in blog formation for your spiritual edification.)
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Thinking --> Actions. Not vice versa.
I'm on a mission
I like turquoise.
The color, the stone... all of it. And for awhile now, I've wanted a ludicrously loud and obnoxious handbag in the cornea-searing shade. But not just any handbag. No, I've got specifications.
- large enough to carry a concealed firearm and/or attack dog my dayplanner
- gold trim (I live in the American SW and I refuse to perpetuate the hideously overdone trend of turquoise and silver)
- NOT RECTANGULAR (...ick)
I am willing to pay someone Stefanie's first born child if you possess information that leads to the discovery and purchase of such a handbag.
ETA: It appears my arch-nemesis, Coach, has plotted fiendishly in order to entice me to buy one of their overpriced, egotistical bags. Behold, Francine.
Well played, Coach. Well played.
I look super foxy today
I haven't done much shopping the past four or five months because of the money situation, but with the cash that my parents forked over for my aforementioned birfday, a $120 dress recently came into my possession for a mere $22. It's poop-brown, adorable and I'm wearing it now. Spending disgusting gobs of cash on a piece of fabric is for suckers; you do not go shopping with me unless you mean it.
In addition I finally bought a pair of jeans that genuinely fit me (...at least I hope). The last two I purchased are great as soon as I get them from the dryer... then they expand. The crotch hangs halfway down to my knees, the butt sags and I look just generally dumpy. I've been stubborn, refusing to go down a size simply on principle. I swallowed my tongue when I bought a dress from the Limited that was a size 0; Target's current smallest size (2) is too big for my waste... but I absolutely can not swallow the idea that I fit into a size 1 jean. It's just not possible.
I could name you at least half a dozen other girls (my age) that have smaller hips, tinier butts and thinner arms... so if I have this much trouble, where in God's name do they shop? Yeah, I've lost 30 pounds and I'm a heckuva lot lighter than I was this time last year but I am not a stick. I promise you, I can still grab a nice handful of fat on my thighs.
Still, I'm running out of clothes that fit (well) and getting sick of feeling frumpy and dowdy in the ones that don't. So I broke down and bought a pair of low-rise, stretch skinny jeans... in a size 1*.
And in "News Less Likely To Cause Hissy Fits," I have 13 people confirmed for tonight and three more waiting in queue. I've always been atrocious at organizing group get-togethers, so the fact that this one seems to be going alright excites me greatly.
I'm all a-tingle. But that could be the migraine medication.
* - and I SWEAR that if anyone leaves a comment whining about how they don't want to hear the "skinny bitch" complain, I will punch SOMEONE in the throat.
Random
It could be coincidence, but I cut back my soda intake by... well, a lot, in an effort to clear up the last remaining vestiges of puberty on my face and in a week my skin is already better.
I'm (perhaps prematurely) hopeful.
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I need to stop eating out. There are no two ways about it and I absolutely can't let myself slip away this time. My bank account won't survive if I do.
Crappity crap
My car died on the freeway.
As in "the middle of it". Now I know what my tax rebate is going towards, I guess.
I came home intending to upload the one picture of Drew and I that my camera has from Connecticut that I happened to love and what happened? It sucked it up into the black hole that is my ancient abyss of technological wonder.
Baby, I need a hug. :(
