I think the best way to describe my look for the fashion show is Ziggy Stardust Barbie wears Sandy from Grease's post-makeover outfit. What I cannot even describe to you is how fucking nervous I was beforehand. I'm much more of a behind the scenes kind of person than an everyone-look-at-me type. When I was little I was obsessed with ballet. I took the classes all year, bought the costume, but when it came down to the recital I couldn't do it because I was too shy. That's cute and all when you're four but not so much when you're nearly 24. I almost started crying during the RUN THROUGH. Luckily Antietam, who is a pro at that shit, was also in the show and I had her to keep me going, as well as my mom via text. Oh, and whiskey. Like...a LOT of whiskey. It actually ended up going pretty well.
Panda_Eyes and I are FINALLY moved into our new apartment. By moved I mean all our shit is there but needs to be unboxed and sorted. Polish Hill is indeed one hell of a hill. I mean, that shit is steep. Ask Panda_Eyes-- he rides his bike up it everyday coming home from work. The apartment itself is so much bigger and so much quieter, which is nice. It's so quiet, actually. It's kind of a weird transition from the madness of E. Carson St. In a good way though. It feels sort of like it's at the end of the world. Our street is a dead end on the downside of the hill and it looks directly over this big blue bridge that goes off into nothingness.
I hate my job. I've had quite a few jobs in my day and had never, not even once gotten written up. In the month and a half or so that I've been at my current job I've gotten written up THREE times. For the most asinine, pointless shit. AND they claim to be very lenient. Riiiight. Everyone there walks around with these huge sticks up their asses all the time. Lighten up, it's fashion! It's fucking retail. Not even some kind of elite retail or like we're working on commission or something. Though the clothing they sell is cheap, it's a company that has a very edgy, fashion forward image. They claim to promote from within but a little birdie told me they brought the store manager in from fucking JC Penny. He's a total JC Penny to the bone dude too...great choice for a "fashion forward" store. So I end up getting written up for being 2 minutes late (literally! they count TWO MINUTES as a late) and the store's "stylist" (who is basically a glorified sales associate) wears Ed Hardy. Like, all the time. GROSS.
I am mean. I am going to bed.
Ciao
Juno
About the Elvis painting, i Bought it in a decoration store in Belgium