The Villian Wins After Happily Ever After

I had a dream last night that I only just remembered, which in turn triggered a memory of a conversation I had with a friend yesterday.

We went to the beach. Nikki Beach, more specifically. I always had friends who raved about how South Beach was the best beach to go to in South Florida. Personally found it overrated, more partial to the Fort Lauderdale beaches myself. But, I was asked to go yesterday so I went. My love for beaches in general is far stronger than my preference for any particular one.

People have this idea of South Beach as a fabulous, gorgeous place. Filled with fabulous, gorgeous people doing fabulous, gorgeous things. I arrived to Nikki Beach and found... a beach. It was a very nice beach mind you, but in my head I had created this image of flawless beings sipping sparkling cocktails in dewy glasses sunbathing on white towels, evenly spaced beneath white umbrellas stabbed into fine grain sand. There were pretty people there, and umbrellas, and the water did feel perfect. It just wasn't some paradise straight from my imagination. I told my friend this and he pointed out my towel wasn't even white, so even if my fantasy vision were true, I would have destroyed it upon my arrival.

He is right in a way. My real life presense takes away from my imagination. I find myself constantly being disappointed because in my head, I see things as being so completely perfect and beautiful. It's impossible, at least in my eyes, for anything real to match up. So, I am never really satisfied. In my dream last night I imagined driving through a fantastic place. I can't describe it because for me, that would take away from what I saw in my head.

I guess that's why people make movies. And art. And why I want to make clothes. To camoflauge the truth. To fake what I dream and make it tangible.

It's very frustrating to need more and more to take your breath away. To be in love with beauty, but to have an increasingly high standard for what defines it.

Fairy tales aren't true?

♥ Lini.

Say Cheese

I've got this summer job. I'm making this money but I don't know what I'm making it for. I see things [cough floral Doc Marten's cough, sighhh.] I want and just as I go to buy them I stop. I could be saving up for something else, and if I buy this thing, my earnings will be gone and I won't be able to in the future. Then I think of the semester ahead, knowing I'll have expenses then. But I want another tattoo. But I want to rage away my summer and do something crazy. I half planned a road trip to New Orleans, but it never happened.

So these paychecks stack up. They're not enough to do something big, buy something big, or go anywhere big. There's things I need, things I want, and things I know I should buy. But, it's so hard to be sensible.

I hate money.

I think I really want a camera. I lost mine in Barcelona last year. It broke my heart. I feel I need a new one. I feel like you can have an amazing moment, and while it's happening you refuse to believe you'll ever forget it. But you will. There's a whole lot of moments that make up a lifetime.

So, camera? Or camera?

Decision made maybe? I just want one really bad.

Money, Money, Money. Must be funny... In a rich man's world.

ABBA

♥ Lini.

Like a butterfly floats its wings and Tokyo explodes or there's a tsunami, in like, you know, somewhere.

At my current job I was trained in Spanish. Typical, I mean I currently live and work in Miami. Mind you, I do not actually speak Spanish well enough to be fully trained for a job in it. I think they eventually realized this upon my look of sheer terror. So, I guess they figured they'd make it brief and get to the most important aspects of my position.

One of the girls told me [insert super chonga accent] that my job was to basically faciliate the customer's shopping experience and make it as aestically pleasing and easy as possible. Why? Because let's say if there's half a stack of jeans in one room, and another stack somewhere else, a poor unsuspecting customer may only find the one stack that happens to not have her size. Without the said jeans she won't have a thing to wear out that night, and will be doomed to sit at home for the evening. Had the jeans been better orgazined, she would have found her size. Voila! She would have hit the club looking stunning, and found her future boyfriend that night.

My job is to organize the store to insure people's lives become fairy tales and not nights spent watching VH1. Home. Alone. On their Couches. Binging. Because without THOSE jeans, you're doomed. Duh.

When she told me this, I just though to myself is she kidding? Is the language barrier that severe? If you know me, I will rage about how important fashion is, but even I thought she was going overboard. I kept and keep thinking about this everytime I go into work. Until I realized...

Maybe she has a point. I mean sometimes people stay in or don't do things because they aren't feeling their best, and I believe how you feel about your appearance has a wholeee lot to do with that. If you're in a bad mood you might give off a bad vibe preventing you from meeting someone or doing something which could change your life, or at least your day. And if you go into a store, and it's an unorganized disaster, and you can't find what you want... well, maybe that put you in a bad mood. Butterfly effect via ill-fitting skinny jeans perhaps?

I'm not saying fashion controls your destiny. I'm not saying I control your destiny by properly folding skirts into a manner which makes it easier for you to find just the right one. But maybe, just maybe, fashion & I shape it a little more than you care to admit.

Cause I felt like smiling this morning.

♥ Lini.

Hearing Is Believing

People are going to tell you things you're gonna want to believe for the entirety of your life. Starts off with Santa Claus is coming to visit tonight along with his BFF the Tooth Fairy, & might end with With proper treatment, many make full recovery. Whatever the story being spun, we eat it up everytime.

I have a lot of facts I count on, many of which were merely told to me with equal credibility as the tale of good old Saint Nick. A friend of mine told me toasting bread burns some of the calories. I believe it. Why? I have no idea. I have zero proof or rational backing in anything in my life that would even make that seem true. I mean, burning is a chemical reaction and all... but my point is people say things and we just decide they must be true. Or false. Without bothering to check. Is it just trust and faith? Or just allowing ourselves to believe whatever it is we want to hear? Why do we sometimes label "honest" people as bitches? Because we don't like hearing if they hurt, only things involving how to prepare breakfast in a manner which allows us to skip 2 minutes of cardio?

Am I going to check if toasting bread burns calories? Nope. Don't tell me. Toast is my current Santa Claus. I couldn't tell you why, but I think everyone has one.

Rolling Stones & Chanel

It's like me and someone I know in a manicure or something.

I dedicate this to... various individuals.

This makes me sad but it's a pretty picture.
Sidenote, I just gotta say it, Paul is the greatest animal ever.

I don't know who this woman is, but she is remarkably, insanely beautiful.

Freckles.

Lifesaver of the week: Peace of Mind from Origins.

You put a dab on your fingertips, inhale, rub into temples, earlobes, and back of neck.

Voila. Fixes everything. ♥ it.

♥ Lini

Forget Your Password? Click Here.

I keep posting so many images. I briefly though about getting a Tumblr, but honestly? How many accounts can one person have? Nowadays, far too many. I cannot stumble, tumble, tweet, tube, blog, and so all day long. It would be the end of me. So bless you all who do. I get really frustrated at people when they are unorganized, but talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Try as I may, I lack the impecable organaizational skills I demand to see others. If I did, I had an account for images, one for words, one for statuses, and so one. But alas, that's for too many passwords. I've got more than a handful as is.

The internet is so, so effin big.

I'm not a huge Disney fan, but it's impossible to avoid liking them at least a little. Wall-E will always have my heart, and I did spend a few years of my girlhood delusionally believing I was in fact La Petite Sirene, aka Ariel. So, today's scattered images happen to be largely Disney influenced. But maybe it's also because I'm jealous my sister's going to Universal's Harry Potter World this week and I'm not? Either way, enjoy.

Don't underestimate the importance of... body language, HAH!

Ursula.

♥ Lini.

Pirate Skulls & Bones, Sticks & Stones

So, I'm a little bit morbid.

Not terribly so, I would say I'm also terribly girly. I shriek at the sight of anything icky, I have a collection of hair bows, and my favorite color is pink. Personally, I think my style combines both. Feminine, with a touch of edgy darkness I guess.

It just happens that today I'm feeling partial to the side of me that doesn't drool over glittery Dior lip gloss [must-have] and faint at the sight of anything crawly.

I felt like a freak for so long in my childhood, but now I have a lot of freak friends to hang out with.

GaGa.

♥ Lini.

Dear Mom & Dad

Sometimes, and most honestly, all of the time, I really cannot stand my parents. I won't begin to list the reasons why.

Sometimes, and most honestly, all of the time, I find the most insightful things people say come out of their mouths accidentally.

Like when sitting on a curb at Yogurtland, crunching on granola, heat blazing, and just chatting.

On such a say, a two friends of mine drooled over toddlers running nearby, discussing thier future kids. I merely drooled over my ice cream and repeated my usual sentiment that I never wish to bear children. I don't want the burden of being responsible for how someone turns out. They questioned me about this. I said I didn't think my parents should have had kids and I don't think a lot of parents should have had kids- look how people turn out. Most people are in no condition to take of themselves, much less to raise another human being. People end up with so many issues as a result of their childhoods. Then one friend just said, "Yea but would you want other parents? If you didn't have the life you had, you wouldn't be who you are."

I mean, she's right. If are parents our sculptors, whether they gently mold us or harshly sand us into shape, it's all just means to an end. If we want the final piece as is, the artistry must occur as did. Maybe those terms are a little simple for the making of a person, but how else can I say it? You'd be a boring person if someone just took a lump of clay you were and barely messed around with it.

Maybe I bled a little to get this way, but at least I hear I'm slightly fascinating. Doesn't mean I'm willing to repeat this for another person though, don't worry.

Largeman: There's a handful of normal kid things I kinda missed.

Sam: There's a handful of normal kid things I kinda wish I'd missed.

-Garden State.

&heart; Lini.

1 Month, and 101 Blog Entries Later

Someone's coming to pick me up soon, and I'm fairly certain if he knew I was blogging and not getting dressed he wouldn't be too pleased. This individual happens to be fairly intelligent, and will probably read this and realize what I was doing during the time frame I was suppossedly getting ready during. Forgive me ♥ ! I'll make this fast.

Just because you leave a place, doesn't mean it stops moving without you in it.

I am a fairly jealous person. If you've ever seen or read Charlie and The Chocolate Factory, you most likely couldn't have missed the darling Veruca Salt. She wants it now. She wants everything for herself, and then dismisses it once it's hers. I find myself to be like her sometimes [unfortunately I must add]. I like having things merely to show myself I am able to attain them. If I ever realize they are no longer in my grasp, I throw what I like to call mini fits.

Often, this happens to me with places. I move around a lot... for school, for travel, for whatever it may be. Obviously no place waits for no person. It's unreasonable to expect for it to remain the same, for it to meet you upon your return as you left it. Still, unreasonable as it may be, I expect to find all my many homes as I left them. It breaks my heart every time when find they aren't. When that old restaurant you loved is closed, or replaced with an IHOP. When an ex now has someone else, even if you do too. When your movie theater got bought out and renamed. When an entire housing complex got built in what feels like overnight. When you come back a semester later and your favorite professor is gone. You never gave permission for this to happen! People move, time moves, life happens. But, alas, I'm Veruca Salt and I don't want it to! I want my Golden Geese. Now & always.

I wish I wasn't so possessive and jealous of the people, places, and things around me. It's not that I don't want everyone to have everything they want too, but when I see statuses like "Trip to Europe Booked!" "Off to [Insert European Nation Here] For 6 Months!" I get so sad because I need to go back so sadly! It's another one of those places that's moving without me in it. I know it is, and I don't want it to.

Cute & Morbid shit, my favorites.

All from ffffound.com

♥ Lini.

I Dream of You Amid The Flowers

Usually it annoys me when flowers are used for inspiration in fashion.

Though beautiful, I find them too easily accessible and so...far too cliche.

But, Galliano always makes my jaw drop.

Dior.

And the hair? Insanity!

I am disgusted at how absent minded I am today, it's unbelievable.

♥ Lini.

Word Vomit

Completely forgot about this... The other day, a friend of mine made a joke about Lara Stone referring back the Mean Girls "gap-toothed bitch" quote. Well, Lara Stone, I adore you. I think you're actually really hot, your teeth are cute, you look like my darling & gorgeous friend Elissa, and I've always sorta wished I were Dutch [wouldn't you know Miss Elissa once lived in Holland herself? Small world... maybe they're long lost sisters? Introduce me if so, please!]

& Random items of lust...

10 Corso Como Cam... Camera and Milano mated, Ciao, ti voglio. Molto!

These are so gorgeous and they are Francais. T'aime ♥

Odelie Chan.

And never least... Melissa. I'll forgive you for being plastic because you're Brazilian and you make me feel super nostalgic. Jelly sandal throwback?

Blogged twice today, jeez! Gotta get some sun to free myself from the computer, ciao ciao bacci a tutti!

♥ Lini.

Put Your Pencils Down

When you're a kid and mostly until you hit the 12th grade, you're pretty much forced into taking standardized tests. Everyone fills out the bubbles on a scantron to match each others so when the results are analyzed they can be compared in an most impartial way. Then, weeks later we receive charts and barometers with percents, numbers, and statistics stacking us against our peers. We're ranked as either above, below, or at average. Personally, I've always felt below average scores are results of sleeping through tests, complete apathy, poor test-taking skills, or Christmas tree-ing score sheets but maybe that's just me.

My whole life I've always scoresd above average. My friends always scored above average. How is it possible for everyone to be above average? It's not, actually. That completely refutes the very definition of the world. I once walked around craddling a number on a piece of paper as if it someone how set me apart from the rest of the human race. As if dropping my SAT score years later would impress people into thinking something notable lurked within my skull.

Do you know how many factors affect test scores? Or how many factors affect someone determing whether of not someone's average in general? Brilliant people have been ignored throughout history because those around them couldn't use standard methods to determine the magnitude of their existance. I grew up being told all these great things about myself. Didn't we all, though? It's the modern age. We're raised to be praised and to violently believe in ourselves.

I grew up a little more now, and got a reality check. You never stop getting accessed in terms of average, and you will always be compared to others. But here's the world, and here's the billions of people on it. There's far, far too many spreading across the face of the earth for all of us to just stick out and be above it all. Maybe I'm above average in drawing or writing or height or you name it, but that does that even mean? It doesn't mean I'm the best. It just means compared to most people, I have a slight advantage. And I think that's what they forgot to mention. Being above average in something is easy, being the best is what's hard.

I'm so, so sick of feeling average. I haven't felt proud of anything I've done in so long. I haven't felt like I've made something or accomplished anything worth remembering. I am having so much trouble accepting the terms I have been described in were merely euphemisms and far too generously used. It's interesting how different societies work, and how we often view others as being too harsh on their children. Maybe they are. Maybe we're not. I guess no one really can know. I guess I can only wonder if the binds of my humanity were self-imposed, imposed by our upbringing, or completely beyond the control of any tangible factors at all.

Sorry that was really bitter. Here's some shit that makes me smile:

Nike Macarons.

Feet candy & Pistachio, my favorite ♥

Stussy Hello Kitty Tees.

Just my luck, only available in Japan, uggg.

I'm digging the white one on the upper left with the tea cup- super duper adorable.

Toys!

Fruit!

Silly, cute things always make me happier.

Lastly, eargasm throwback M.I.A. circ '06.

"I'm okay with being unimpressive. I sleep better."

Garden State.

♥ Lini.