So thanks to a long weekend, it doesn't really feel like Saturday morning. Or afternoon now, I suppose, since it's after noon. I love Saturdays. There's just so much possibility. If only I actually did something with all my ideas, instead of just...not.
Despite loving my weekends though, I'm kinda excited for what this next semester brings. It's all easy, fun classes full of art and history, which is what I'm all about. Other than getting up really early, I don't anticipate much of a problem. I really hope this semester is easy sailing, considering just how tedious and hard this past two have been.
So now, this Saturday morning, I have so many ideas of things to do. But instead of complaining about it so much, and dreaming, I think I may actually do something about it. Because with my idea for this blog, has come other ideas of things to change in my life. I figure that I should embrace this still relatively new year and this wonderful new President and see what happens. Because if Obama can bring the change he promises for the entire country of 300 million, I sure as hell can for my own little life.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Nordstrom
I have a love affair with Nordstrom. It's not that I'm addicted to fashion or clothes or shopping. I don't want to have a fashion blog all about clothes. I'm more than that. But I love the person I become when I'm there. Nordstrom takes me back to well, the good ol' days.
I first discovered Nordstrom when I was 10, actually, compliments of my mother and her best friend. Despite being all the way in another city, 40 minutes away, I insisted upon going whenever I could. I loved being away from my hometown, where I could take on a new persona in the store, and spend all day there. I loved the shoe department, B.P., even the food there. The clothes, though many too expensive or too just plain odd for my taste seemed exotic. I can still try on designer clothes and enjoy it, even if it's bittersweet knowing I can't have them.
The Nordstrom magic was discovered before the messy teenage years. It was before falling in love, and then heartbreak. A heartbreak I still struggle with. It's there to console me, because it never changes, even the one now in my hometown. I get to be a fearless person there, trying on things I wouldn't, spending too much of my parents' money, and spending the day with my Mom or Dad. I feel comfortable inside those Nordstrom walls, because the merchandise changes, but the feeling never does.
I first discovered Nordstrom when I was 10, actually, compliments of my mother and her best friend. Despite being all the way in another city, 40 minutes away, I insisted upon going whenever I could. I loved being away from my hometown, where I could take on a new persona in the store, and spend all day there. I loved the shoe department, B.P., even the food there. The clothes, though many too expensive or too just plain odd for my taste seemed exotic. I can still try on designer clothes and enjoy it, even if it's bittersweet knowing I can't have them.
The Nordstrom magic was discovered before the messy teenage years. It was before falling in love, and then heartbreak. A heartbreak I still struggle with. It's there to console me, because it never changes, even the one now in my hometown. I get to be a fearless person there, trying on things I wouldn't, spending too much of my parents' money, and spending the day with my Mom or Dad. I feel comfortable inside those Nordstrom walls, because the merchandise changes, but the feeling never does.
Bridget Jones' Diary and Other Irrelevant Topics
In some vain attempt to harness some creative itches I've had for a while, I decided to start a blog. I recently deleted one I had when I was much younger, and I think I miss it a bit. So here's to hopes of starting another, successfully.
I'd like to keep my blog humble, and not worry about impressing anyone or attracting readers. It's for me, to write and bitch and vent, without complaints. Normally I'd use a journal of some sorts, but isn't this quite like one? Recently rewatching Bridget Jones' Diary has gotten me in the mood to write. So...yeah. Next post, I suppose.
I'd like to keep my blog humble, and not worry about impressing anyone or attracting readers. It's for me, to write and bitch and vent, without complaints. Normally I'd use a journal of some sorts, but isn't this quite like one? Recently rewatching Bridget Jones' Diary has gotten me in the mood to write. So...yeah. Next post, I suppose.
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