i'm addicted to a life of material.

“I’m obsessively opposed to the typical.”
-Lady Gaga

There once was a man, London born, who won British Designer of the Year four times in a span of eight years. As head designer and successor of John Galliano at LVMH, he called the company’s founder “irrelevant.” His runway shows have included a human chess game, a shipwreck and a double-amputee model that strut her stuff on intricately carved wooden legs.

He’s been called “the hooligan of English fashion.” He is shock jock Howard Stern, Sharon Stone’s cooter in “Basic Instinct.” He shocks – and he pleases.

Alexander McQueen is an incredible designer that is my absolute favorite in the fashion realm. I’m always pleased with every collection, but his Fall 2009 one just blew me out of the water.

It probably doesn’t help that I’m a red/black combination kind of girl and I have a tinge of goth to my personal style. Barring all that, the structured head pieces are enough to carry this collection alone. And this gown is stunning. I hate birds, but I’ll take them on a dress like this any day.

I have no idea what this poor woman is covered in, but it looks incredible.

Check the whole thing out. It’s worth a look.

birds sing: a-ding...a-ding, a-ding.

I was lying in bed this morning, feeling my Monday morning blues (but on a Tuesday – I stayed an extra day due to Tony’s root canal). From my bed and my contemplations about the coming weeks, I heard geese outside. Early Sunday morning, as Tony and I lay in bed, we heard birds chirping as the sun filtered through the blinds. I smelled sunshine and warmed concrete as I took his dog for a walk on Monday.

The clouds may have been grey and dimming on the past three spring-like days, but it did nothing to hamper my mood and my hope and the start of a frenzy – spring madness is setting in.

It seems that year after year when warm weather rolls around, I’m embarking on a new part of my life. First it was college, then a break-up, then a big role in The Crown and then senior year. Every warm breeze and every green leaf brought with it a promise of a fresh start and perspective.

This year is no different and may, in fact, be the biggest change of all. I’m moving to a new city, quitting a full-time job with benefits to move to a freelance one without. I’m leaving my family and friends behind and starting with a new group of friends and family. I’m living on my own for the first time ever.

There are a lot of changes going on, none of them small, and I’m just glad it’s not happening in the middle of winter when I usually feel really crappy. There’ll be sunshine and warmth to punctuate my every move during my new life – inspiration at its finest.

who watches the watchmen? THIS GUY.

I’m not really a movie reviewer, but here goes. (SPOILERS!)

Watchmen. The epic movie that’s been in the making for years now has finally hit the theaters – and when I say hit, I mean smash through and disintegrate everything in its path.

The movie was epic. From start to finish I was entranced – it never seemed a two and three quarter hours long movie.

First and foremost, I need to draw attention to the opening sequence. The Comedian’s death/brief overview of the Minute Men and how we got where we are today = BRILLZ. I was smiling at points in it, thinking about how clever it was. For example – the Comedian was JFK’s assassin. Or Silhoutte inadvertently replicating the moment we glimpse in the photograph of the sailor kissing the young woman after World War II. All of it excellent and well done, from their formation to their demise.

I only read about half of the graphic novel but I must say, comparing the parts I read to the movie – it was almost panel for panel. I sat there, quoting the lines, as they were pulled directly from the novel. The imagery was stunning and, again, pulled right from the book.

The casting was superb. Billy Crudup did a genius job as Dr. Manhattan. Every sentence that left his mouth dripped with apathy. (Oh, and the Ken doll-like peen that he sports in the trailers? Totally gone and anatomically correct!) Rorshach was a tiny guy that looked harmless, but deadly lethal once you got down to it. (“The thing is, I’m not locked in here with you – you’re locked in here with ME!” – and the audience went ape shit). The Comedian was fucked up in all the right places, in the ways Night Owl was nice and Silk Spectre was sexy.

There was the right amount of blood, the right amount of sex, the right amount of fighting and the right amount of talking. Snyder blended everything together perfectly to pull off what most deemed impossible. Sure, some things were left out (don’t even look for the squid), but it did little to damage the storyline on the whole.

The only thing I would say is that if you haven't read the novel, you may get lost. Much like its paper version, the movie contains many flashbacks in order to flesh out the histories of the characters (and don't even get started on Doc Manhattan's ability to exist in numerous times at once - that can really go off the charts.)

It also stuns me that these "real people" that are superheroes can take such incredible beatings (as well as dish them out) and barely bat an eyelash. If anyone can do that, it's Dr. Manhattan, but I don't believe for a second that stick-thin Laurie Jupiter could pummel the shit out of a guy three times her size. If that's the case, there's hope for me yet.

sexy time.

I decided to google myself today.

Mmm - sounds dirty, no? ; )

You know what IS dirty? The search results.

I found the typical stuff – me dean’s-listing at King’s, me interning through King’s, my Weekender stories, listing as editor-in-chief of The Crown. But then I found something that made me blush, from the round of my cheeks right down to my pinky toes shoved in my heels. I can’t believe I’m going to admit this.

As many people know, I love Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Well, there’s this little thing called fanfic (if you’re a nerd like me I can hear you snickering already) and then there’s another little thing called smutfic (and now you’re full-blown laughing).

Fanfic is when fans of a certain…fandom, if you will, write stories based upon the characters or even characters of their own creation. Well, once upon a time, I wrote fanfic. A lot. I even had an author name I wrote under and other authors I canoodled with via internet and message boards.

I enjoyed it. It was solid writing that kept me creating and editing. Each piece was a work of art for me. I wish I could get back to those days (and plan to soon – hello, Heroes!).

But I wrote a piece of smut. And that’s all I’m going to tell you because I don’t want anyone searching it. It was hot and heavy and it made me blush while I was reading it.

It also made me say, “DAMN, girl – you were good.”

I kind of want to write some more. :x

holy crap.

anyone want to go to louisiana?

it's always sunny in philadelphia.

My disposition is generally sunny. I’m rarely negative or angry; I always look at things from all angles and try to focus on the most positive side. I believe everything happens for a reason, be it good or bad, and something can be learned from everything.

I am always smiling and cracking jokes. I always try to make others feel happy.

Lately, I have been tired. My soul and my heart have been so tired. I hate sleeping because I loathe the waking. Waking up means another day of doing something I don’t want to do, or doing something that squashes my creativity and makes me apathetic.

I had a friend who once told me that the opposite of love is not hate - it’s apathy. He’s right. At least hate is an emotion; apathy is emptiness.

That’s how I have been feeling. Apathetic. A shell of myself. I don’t even want to read or write, which is incredibly unlike me.

I’ve been this way for four months. Not any more.

I resigned from my job. I’m moving to Philadelphia by March’s end and freelancing full time while I continue to look for jobs down there (be it writing and editing or just plain office work).

I’m placing myself in a new area, with a new situation and new people. I’m going to use this time to visit numerous places in Philadelphia, take in things I’ve never experienced before. I want to read and write more. I want to watch more movies that I should have watched years ago. I will re-teach myself French, once and for all. I will work out daily.

I’ll finally bring myself to who I want to be. I won’t be a shell any more.

This prospect is exciting, but (as you can imagine) incredibly scary.

I’ll miss my family. I’ll miss my friends. Hell, I’ll even miss the people I work with.

I’ll be on my own for the first time in twenty-three years. An only child, flying the coop, trying her hand at independent life.

Sure, I’ll have Tony’s family. But I don’t want to rely on them too much. It’s all a part of growing and changing myself.

Today is day one of my new self. I have fourteen days left of work and about thirty in this valley.

Apathy is so yesterday.