Photo Journal: Milan, Italy 9.2022

 My youngest went to Italy the fall before she graduated, which meant she'd be away from home for a whole semester without us seeing one another, which neither of us was ready to accept. So after I quit my job at the library, I booked a two-week trip to Milan (and a week-long stay in Rome we can discuss later) that almost convinced me to give up my American citizenship. And don't I feel stupid now, that I decided to come back to this sinking ship?

Anywhores, here are some of my favorite memories from my time as a carefree gal in the streets of Milan and other neighboring towns.

Lake Como ain't just for the Clooneys of the world

The actual Last Supper by DaVinci

A view from the top (of Il Duomo)

Only I'd run into a book fair abroad

Authentic bolognese in Bologna

Learning to make egg pasta in someone's home

Love & Balls,
Jaded
-----
and all the things that I used to be afraid of
suddenly it all disappear...
and you remain my most favorite thing
and everywhere I go you're here with me

Journey To Di Road: Day 10 | Ummm...

So, not only did I ditch my whole eating and workout plan ENTIRELY this week, I didn't blog, either. Part of me wanted to write up some stuff and post date it so that there isn't a big hole in this week, but no, I won't do that. I need to look back and remember that I went back on my word, if for no other reason than to shame myself into never doing it again.

Once a Catholic, always a Catholic...

On Tuesday, I didn't blog because Monday pissed me off; just the memory of the day I decided to stop blogging put me in the worst mood. Wednesday, I plum-forgot. I took the day off from work, did laundry, binge-watched GREENLEAF on Netflix (oh my GAWD it's such a good show!), cooked, and chilled. Blogging didn't really fit into my day, especially because I was trying to cheer myself up after realizing that the real reason I took Wednesday off--to finish and submit my NEA grant application--was for naught because I didn't meet the candidate guidelines. Thursday, I remembered, but then fell asleep, and today I was too busy at work and then too happy at home to sit at my desk and give myself 200 verbal lashes for fucking up this week.

I have the highest of hopes for next week, only because I have to or nothing is ever going to happen. Eventually, something will give and I'll take my health seriously, right?

This is Day 10.

Breakfast: slice of egg pie/baked frittata and slice of buttered toast; then I had a few sips of a nasty, bitter cup of coffee at work to wake up.

No amount of sugar + milk could save this bitter cup of trash

Snack: microwave popcorn. I regretted it immediately
Lunch: some bullshit salad (no meat) in a desperate attempt to be "healthy" which I also regretted because it left me feeling empty inside. I followed it up with one of those tiny Snickers from the work snack drawer

I wasn't meant to eat rabbit food, I was meant to eat the rabbit

Dinner: Buffalo wings and cajun fries from Buffalo's Famous, the only AUTHENTIC wing spot that I know of in NYC; it was delicious and I make zero apologies
Victories: I ate breakfast all week, which definitely helped me cut down on my snack cravings at work this week; nothing spoiled in my fridge--everything I cooked got eaten (or will be tomorrow)
WOMP Moments: I ordered takeout when I had perfectly good food in the fridge OR ate two dinners sometimes; forgot to blog; just realized I forgot my supplements today; OH and I never went to the gym this week

Today I did some computer maintenance and replaced my speakers with a much better, bass-heavy set, so I have all of the plans to blast soca tomorrow as I do my Saturday chores. Dancing helps to motivate me; bass helps me want to dance. Perhaps all of that put together will guide me towards the gym?

Or nah.

*smooches...waiting on [my] world [view] to change*
----------
my brain needs to fix itself pronto!

Journey To Di Road: Day 6 | This Is Why I Stopped Blogging

I did not love myself this weekend. I was not good to my body. I broke all the promises I made to myself. I continue feeding this cycle of unhealthy behaviors and somehow think "tomorrow will be different" without any real action on my part.

This isn't just about my health, this applies to my career, finances, relationships--you name it. One day, I was reading over my blog and realized, I hadn't grown as a person at all. I hadn't learned from my mistakes and I hadn't taken any real steps to change my situation. I was still coasting through life, and all I had to show for it was nearly 2,000 blog posts of First World Whining. So I quit. And now I'm sitting here wondering why I ever started back again--just to remind myself how dumb I am?

I mean, I could sit here and explain how the heat is sparse in my apartment and that makes me not want to do anything, but the not doing anything is why I'm still stuck in this drafty apartment 11 years later. But that's just another excuse. I did attempt to make better choices: I made oatmeal for breakfast on Saturday, and at the movies on Sunday (we saw HIDDEN FIGURES and it was wonderful). I didn't have my usual popcorn and slushie. However, that's only because we went to Bareburger first and made pigs of ourselves.

Saturday Breakfast | Sunday Lunch

Then there was a whole spaghetti and rice and garlic bread and ice cream and pound cake situation that I really don't want to get into.

I did go food shopping, though, and I made a beef stew for dinner tonight (which I ate too late but still, it wasn't the pizza and wings I really truly wanted). Slow cookers are a godsend.

This is Day 6.

Breakfast: eight ounces of lobster butternut squash bisque from The Soup Bowl in Park Slope. I really wanted a bacon, egg, and cheese on a roll, but I opted for soup. I don't know which one was worse for me.
Snack: one of those Plantar's salted peanuts packets from the snack drawer.
Lunch: beef and broccoli + seltzer water
Victories: I didn't get that bacon, egg, and cheese on a roll, NOR did I get the pizza and wings I craved for dinner.
WOMP Moments: didn't go to the gym; didn't get enough sleep; didn't drink enough water; ate TWO bags of chips from the snack drawer at work. And I'm about to have some ice cream. I WON'T BE STOPPED.

Right now, besides the ice cream, I'm going to take my vitamins/supplements. Then I'm going to pack my lunch for tomorrow, right after I make an "egg pie" for tomorrow's breakfast. Then I'm going to shower, then I'm going to read, while the cast of MOANA accompanies me. Good night.

Journey To Di Road: Day 3 | McDonald's...

Yesterday did not go as planned, again.

At the movies (PS- MOANA is freakin' awesome and if you haven't seen it, whether or not you have a lil one, please get your life!), I told myself "order the ginger ale; it's gotta be better than the slushie." But then I promptly reminded myself to shut the fuck up because blue raspberry slushies were sent from the gods for us to enjoy here on earth. This was my actual thought process. I'm trying to help y'all understand how I ended up 55lbs overweight.

So I got the slushie. Plus a popcorn (to share!) and, well, a hot dog. As I was buying it, I told myself that this was my dinner. It was a crappy one, but I wasn't going to go home and cook so late at night and then eat and then go to sleep with that full belly, no way. Might as well just eat a crappy frank and call it a night.

But after the movie, and after traipsing through the Disney Store buying some MOANA merch, N and I made a fatal decision: we hopped on the D train instead of waiting for the F. Why is this important? Because the walk home from the D puts us in the line of fire of the Golden Arches. And we SURE DID GO IN THERE AND ORDER FOOD. She, a Big Mac meal; me, three-piece chicken strips and a medium fry (no drink, like it mattered at that point, but I just wasn't in the mood for a soda, and I can drink water at home for free).

And after I got home and shoved my face with all that salty goodness (LISTEN. McDonald's fries will NOT be defeated!), I half-heartedly worked on my monthly newsletter (due out this morning; Spoiler Alert: it was late!), then proceeded to play Panda Pop on my phone until I passed out from a sodium-induced coma. I'm failing at life so desperately, it's not even funny.

This is Day 3.

Breakfast: some trash-ass oatmeal from the cafe at work in an attempt to be healthy; I didn't even finish it
Snack: nothing today; I ate breakfast rather late
Lunch: something called a "Wild Chicken Bowl" from one of those fancy-schmancy health food/juice bars near work (of which I only managed to eat half because I swear they put a whole forest of kale in the bowl); it had CASHEW NUT CHEESE, which I consider my punishment for last night's debacle

The Wild Chichen Salad from Fuel Juice Bar, BK

Victories: took my supplements/vitamins; did not have candy from the work snack drawer; actually wrote this blog
WOMP Moments: didn't go to the gym; didn't get enough sleep; didn't drink enough water; don't have solid plans for dinner.

Are you seeing the pattern? Yeah, me, too, also, as well.

Tonight I will likely hang out with a friend, but it's the kind of friend that, if I say DO NOT LET ME EAT THAT SHIT, they, you know, won't let me eat that shit. I have high hopes. I might also get some food shopping done. I might also cook. I might also write.

I might also say FUCK IT ALL and lay around watching IT'S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA all night. Who. Knows.

But let's all say a collective prayer that I love myself enough to be kind to my body, mind, and soul, instead.

*smooches...with a headache creeping, threatening the night*
----------
look at that; I'm already thinking up an excuse to be a sloth tonight

Journey To Di Road: Day 2 | Ain't A Damn Thing Changed

I've decided that this week is a wash. I put too much pressure on myself and that led to an anxiety spiral. [This shit is out of control; I need to learn how to chill!].

So if I end up doing anything in the gym tomorrow or over the weekend, I'll consider it a huge deal.

In the meantime...

This is Day 2.

B12, Vitamin D, Biotin, Probiotic.

Breakfast: eggs and queso frito, water to drink
Snack: one of those awful Nature Valley oats & honey bars (that is more crumb than it is bar), and a mint tea (plain)
Lunch: turkey burger (on a regular bun), sweet potato fries, pickles, water
Victories: took my supplements/vitamins; did not have candy from the work snack drawer; actually wrote this blog
WOMP Moments: didn't go to the gym; didn't get enough sleep; didn't drink enough water; don't have solid plans for dinner.

I'm headed to the movies tonight, so listen, I won't even lie: there will be popcorn and quite possibly a slushie in my future. I will try and resist, but... slushie...

However, I do have three things on my agenda for after: wash dishes, cook tomorrow's lunch and dinner, work on my novel. DASSIT. I can't promise anything beyond that, and I truly hope nothing goes down tonight to fuck up these meager plans.

It takes very little for me to give up and log on to Netflix.

*smooches...off to a ROCKY start*
----------
a ROCKY start, get it? ROCKY? Because my name is ROCKY? Eh? Eh?

Journey To Di Road: Day 1 | A Healthy Jaded Series

My fellow blog-ericans...it's been a minute. With apps like Instagram and Snapchat, I just felt this communication platform outliving its usefulness. Until now.

But first, we dance.



So remember a couple years back how excited I was to play mas on the parkway, only to have my dreams snatched by the Sesame Flyers Mas Camp who never made my costume, even though I paid in full with 650 American dollars? No? Well, that was a thing. And it broke my heart. I worked out. I ate as well as I could. I was beyond excited at the thought of being IN a parade. And when it didn't happen, I cried bitter tears in my room before just going to the beach and trying to put it out of my mind. I haven't been to a socacize class since then, partly because my spirits were dampened and partly because I needed distance from that whole world.

This year, the West Indian Day Parade is turning 50. It's a huge thing. With two years separating me from my major humiliation, which I shall call COSTUME-GATE, I'm ready to try again (with a different camp, of course. Sesame Flyers is DEAD TO ME FOR LIFE, YO!). But one thing stands between me and the skimpiest of bedazzled, be-feathered bikinis: I currently weigh in at a whopping 225lbs.

Not even I'm ready for this jelly...

Yes, my dears, your girl has given in to anxiety and eaten herself unhealthy. A flight of stairs finds me desperately out of breath. Any attempt at previous levels of cardio exertion causes weird irregular heartbeats. Bending over to tie my shoes is incredibly difficult and painful. Even yoga has become a chore for me, as any flexibility and strength I ever had has disappeared under 55lbs of fat. FIFTY-FIVE-MOTHER-FUCKING-POUNDS. I should be taken out back and horsewhipped.

Because I know this is not me, this is not my comfortable, happy size, I've decided to use the Labor Day festivities as a catalyst to get me back in the gym and back under a better eating plan. I have to keep my focus on NOT becoming a diabetic and NOT having a weight-induced heart attack and NOT developing high blood pressure, all things prevalent in my family. I don't want my last days to be peppered with doctor appointments and a trough of medications. And if vanity is the way to get me motivated, then dammit, let's do this!

SO THIS IS DAY ONE.

• Breakfast: mangu, salami, queso frito, scrambled eggs
• Lunch: 2 tacos (one fish, one grilled chicken), chips, guac, seltzer
• Victories: took my supplements/vitamins; did not have candy from the work snack drawer (had an apple instead); actually wrote this blog
• WOMP Moments: didn't go to the gym; drank coffee to wake up; didn't drink enough water; don't have solid plans for dinner.

My meals have been...not the best and I didn't go to the gym this morning after a low-grade anxiety attack prevented me from leaving the house. My plans for after-work gym time is not looking likely, either, because I can feel that anxiety attack creeping up on me as I type this; I've opted, instead, to walk home, briskly, as my physical activity for the day. I will meal prep tonight for tomorrow. I will get to bed- not my sofa, but my actual bed- by midnight. That's all I can muster right now.

But check back daily as I document this experience, YET AGAIN, through September.

Also, welcome back.




*smooches...to old friends and new*
----------
Did you miss me? Don't answer that because comments are closed lol

#JadedTurns40

Y'all. It's been about 10 years since I got my first tattoo. Since I decided to become a full-time writer. Since I told my then-husband to get the fuck on up out my momma's house with his bullshit. Since my return to my Brooklyn roots. Since I first connected with most of you.

And now I'm 40!

I mean, I don't look it, so it's all cool. But my brain knows its age, as does my eyes, back, knees, feet, and uterus. And The Voices. They're all very aware.

Here are some reflections I've had and continue to have as I think about this milestone birthday:

1. I miss having my extended family in my daily life. I miss my Grandma, still, always. I hope that, if her essence or spirit is really among us, she's more proud than ashamed of the choices I've made. "Sorry about the body art, divorce, excessive drinking, and indiscriminate 'dating'. You definitely raised me better than that."

2. It's OK to be selfish, especially as my kids get older. It was a blessing in disguise that I had them so young; it means I'm still young enough to enjoy my kid-free years now that they're pretty much grown.

3. The more Brooklyn changes, the more at home I feel in the Dominican Republic. In fact, when I travel there to visit family, I refer to it as 'going home'.

4. My Black Is Beautiful. And it's OK if my shade of Black is a little bit lighter than other folks' Black. And I don't care if you have a problem with that, or anyone else's Blackness. I don't have to overcompensate for that, or even explain it to you. Plus my 'fro is the truth and the light, so there's that. #BlackGirlsAreMagic #BlackLivesMatter

5. I can only be held responsible and accountable for MY actions. DASSIT.

What can I look forward to in my 40th year of life? My 2015-16 Bucket list includes finishing up my first novel, plus starting on a few other book projects I have in the works; traveling; growing my Pluma y Tinta family; reaching my health and wellness goals; mastering the art of frying chicken; redecorating my apartment; Becoming Queen Copywriter of the Marketing Department at work. Because why not?

My year starts now. I'm excited for it and all the changes that are in store.

With my grown ass babies. Ay!

Except that mammogram my doc says I need to start getting now that I'm entering the grandma years. Y'all can keep that shit. I don't wanna!

*smooches...for me and my fabulous 40 years of life*
----------
and I'm still accepting gifts well into the summer, so don't feel bad if May 23 came and went and you didn't get me anything :)

Of Course I Can't Quit You!

My loves, my darlings, my old faithful blog readers!!!

Did you feel abandoned? Forgotten? Discarded? I apologize for neglecting you this way. I have no excuse, just been in my own world and not in the mood to share myself via this platform.

However, I could not let the year end without writing something.

Has 2014 been my best year? Not even close. Has it been the worst? NOPE. And that's what I'm choosing to move forward with: I didn't do it all, but I didn't fall apart, either. And if you're a long-time reader of this site you know that's huge for me.

This year's highlights? Getting more stories published, making my very first (kickass) sancocho & homemade sofrito, and my family vacation in DR over the Thanksgiving break. JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH all knew I needed that injection of sunshine and family. It was everything.

I know, I know: we're awesome!

I'm going to make (the) next year(s) all of that, and then some; have more fun. That's my one and only resolution.



You should all do the same.

*smooches...and hugs on this New Year's Eve*
----------
love someone and mean it, especially yourself

Next Year, The Quinces Will Be In DR

She's so feisty, I can't help but see myself in her and love her to death. And since her sister went off to college, N has become my shenanigans road dawg, and I do believe it's brought us closer.

I mean, listen, instead of telling me I'm uncool or embarrassing, she's usually the first in line to participate in my foolishness. How many moms can say that?

Happy Birthday, my Black Queen-in-Training! I look forward to being by your side as you make this world your bitch!

*smooches...just for my schmoo-pie today*
----------
ain't she grand?

In Case Your Monday's Been Shitty

Feast your eyes on all this beauty:

L to r: Authors Blu Daniels, Rebeca Lucret, Theresa Varela,
Alicia Anabel Santos, and Raquel Penzo. (c) 2014 David Stewart

These smart, talented, GORGEOUS women participated in my Lit Crawl Brooklyn event, "When Brooklyn Was Brooklyn," and will be featured in the book next year. If you missed it you MISSED it, because it was one helluva show.

But at least I'm being kind enough to allow you to gawk at us. You're welcome.

*smooches...busy being a proud "momma"*
----------
for every four "eh" events there's one awesome, and that one makes all the others worth it!

You're Invited.

Really hope you can make it!

*smooches...keeping busy*
----------
if I stop, I die.

I Prefer A Far-Away Crush

That unattainable man in a picture somewhere that I don't know and will never meet? The one with the messy beard and long dreads? With the washboard abs and chiseled everything else? The one who loves to paint and dance and cook and travel the world? Who loves sports and the arts equally? Who cares about me and my work and my family?
 

SOURCE: beardedandblack

 We're perfect for each other in my head.

All others need not apply.

*smooches...indulging in some internet eye candy*
----------
and don't even bother telling me if you know this guy. It ruins the fantasy if I actually have access to him!

Food Is My Drug: A Healthy Jaded Update

It's only a matter of time before I overdose. And by overdose I mean get diagnosed with something like diabetes or high blood pressure or death. Then I'll really have something to be all upset and mopey about.

Last time I got on a scale, maybe a month ago, I was 200lbs. TWO HUNDRED. Folks, this is not a drill. This is not a joke. Jaded is 200lbs of jiggly fat. And it's all settled in her stomach (boooo!) and tits (oh for fuck's sake!) and ass (finally!).

Booty-licious BUT that stomach, tho!

I cannot stop eating. It's like a vicious cycle: I eat these bad foods with additives that make me crave more bad foods with more additives and when I stop all I can think of is I NEED MORE BAD FOODS WITH ADDITIVES. I'm thinking about it right now. Right now. I'm imagining crispy fried chicken. Or homemade tortilla chips and guac. A trough of guac. And fries. I want all of it. I NEED all of it.

"When's the baby due, Raquel?"

And I know it's the food that has me too sluggish to go work out, keeping me from focusing on my work, writing or relationships. My finances are struggling. I'm finding it hard to "give a fuck." That's what additives do. They're the drug that makes you not care about anything. And I want to care because look at me. LOOK AT ME! I'M HIDEOUS!! I'M A FUCKING WHALE!!!

I look like a block of cheese. Gov't cheese.

I have a plan in place. In my head. Someone come over here and drag me to the gym to execute it, and while you're add it, delete my Seamless account?

This is an official cry for help. Thanks!

*smooches...wondering how long before heart attack*
----------
it runs in my family. I swore I wouldn't be next. but now, who knows?

Another Friendly Reminder

Today is the release celebration of my reading series' anthology at La Casa Azul Bookstore in East Harlem.

I'd love it if you could all join me!

*smooches...still unsure of what to wear*
----------
nothing fits and this weather is booty. don't be shocked if I show up in pajamas.

Did You Hear About The Blogger Who Cut Her Hair?

She went from these rich, silky waves brushing her collarbone

Cute look, but done to death!

to sleek strands hugging her jawline

So Fresh & So Clean

And she fell in love with herself all over again.

Shout out to Nina's stylist Katy for making me look brand-spanking-new. Y'all might want to keep your husbands on a tighter leash until my hair starts to grow out.

*smooches...looking in every mirror, everywhere*
----------
now to make my body match my sassy new look

Another Day, Another Published Book

Hey SUCKAS! Guess what I just got? THE PROOF TO MY READING SERIES' ANTHOLOGY!

And listen, it's not as hefty as I wanted it to be--people just weren't submitting stuff--I love it. The cover is so snazzy (thanks, Marcin!) and the stories and poems within were hand-picked by ME, so you know it's awesome!

I'm having a book release party on Tuesday, April 29, at La Casa Azul Bookstore in East Harlem.

You should be there for the following reasons:
1. I'm awesome and you love and support me and everything I do.
2. There will be wine.
3. Some truly talented people contributed to this book.
4. There will be cupcakes.
5. You're going to want to take a picture with me + my red-red lipsticked self.
6. There will be wine + cupcakes.
7. My autograph will be worth MILLIONS soon; get it now for free (with the purchase of a book).
8. You can get drunk + eat cupcakes for two hours.
9. My short, "Erasing Cedrick," will rock your socks off.
10. Alcohol + Sugar already RSVPd.

So, see you there?

*smooches...gearing up for bigger things*
----------
I'm like a shark; if I stop moving I die!

Alien Abductions Are Real

WHO BELONGS TO THESE SHOES? 

WHERE DID THEY TAKE HIM???

The Lonely Shoes (c) 2014 The Jaded NYer

*smooches...getting my aluminum foil hat ready*
----------
this is not a drill, ladies and gentlemen!

Throwback Thursday, 4.10.14

So there's this thing that Instagram users have been doing for a while now called Throwback Thursday, where you post a pic of yourself from back in the day. Well, I don't have an Instagram account, but I love to share old pics and reminisce about the old days (while sitting in a rocker sipping some ginger tea). We're gonna give this thing a try over here in Jaded-Town, okay?

Here's a photo of Little Mari and my cousins Vanessa and Jorge Luis. If you squint your eyes and look in the back, there's me (in the big ass pink socks) and Nina, sittin' all fancy like we own the park.

Acostas in full chill mode.

I can only imagine this was taken shortly after I first met Nina; I think I was 14 or 15. Socks and watches were my thing--don't ask me why because I couldn't tell you. My mom sent me to Lawrence, Massachusetts to, I suspect, get me away from a certain boy I was low-key dating. It was supposed to be a punishment but SURPRISE, I made a BEST FRIEND FOR LIFE in Nina, and her mom is one of my favorite aunties.

Also, please look deep into Lil Mari's face. You just KNOW she was up to NO GOOD that day!

*smooches...in love with memory lane*
----------
can I live here forever?

My Friends Bring Me Peace

Yesterday afternoon I actually left my house, put on a dress and a full face of makeup, took my hair out of their Celie braids, and celebrated the book release of my homie and Fake Dominican sister, Blu Daniels. Her novel, Misconceptions, has been a long time coming, went through a trillion revisions, crossed many agents' and editors' hands and is FINALLY in book form. I'm so proud of her hard work, diligence and determination, and we look so cute when we step away from the computer and clean up for photo ops:

BIG UP BROOKLYN!

I must admit, at the time of the party, I'd only read a few pages of the book. People, I have ZERO TIME for luxuries like reading, sleeping, breathing... but last night, after N went to bed I figured, eh, why not? Let me step away from the computer, put my Spotify on shuffle, and see what the hell this book was talkin' 'bout.

I fell asleep shortly after, but then I woke up at 3am (the lights & music were still on), went to pee and thought, eh, might as well keep reading.

This is how I live my life these days. As if sleep is this annoyance that isn't necessary in my life. Sometimes I swear I need a hot slap right across the jaw.

Anyways, sometime around 7am I had to stop reading to get N ready for school, but for about four straight hours I wasn't checking my email, FB or The Twitter; I wasn't watching natural hair videos or "Golden Girls" reruns on YouTube; I wasn't stuffing my face with non-Paleo bullshit. I was just propped up on pillows, under the covers, reading a book.

It was a beautiful thing.

Thanks, Blu, for that much-needed moment of zen (even if I did crash at 7:30 this morning and was very late for work).

*smooches...just for Blu and her new book*
----------
in other news, I look like someone's fat auntie in that pic. no more photos until I drop a dress size. that is all.

Staying In The 90s

I think it was comedian Jerry Seinfeld who joked about older people and their way of dressing, stating that it appears his parents selected a decade and just decided that's where they'd stay. I laughed so hard at that joke and today realized: it's true. Why? Because I'm living it. I've decided that most of what has happened after the 1990s--whether it be music or fashion--is all well and good but for the most part, it's not for me.

Given a choice, I'll always prefer baggier cuts of pants (oh how I miss my Osh Kosh B'Gosh overalls!) and flannel shirts and Doc Martens. I mean, you already know I STILL own and frequently wear Docs. And today's music... I could take it or leave it.

Or maybe it's that the 90s represent the funnest, most carefree times of my life, before kids, debt, physical ailments and these extra 30lbs (she wrote while eating cheddar-flavored Sun Chips).

I still long for my dark, matte lipstick, chokers, bangs, baby doll dresses...basically Brenda Walsh's entire wardrobe from the first two seasons of Beverly Hills, 90210.

Can I get all of these in a size 12? Thanks!

Can we go back there??

*smooches...reminiscing about better days*
-----------
look at that, my calendar says this post is right on time! now let me go buy some feminine napkins...