So Glad We Made It, Time Will Never Change It.

Hello, friends. It's been a while.

Last night, I enjoyed the musical stylings of the Spice Girls on their world tour. Twas in Jersey, but I sacrificed cleanliness to be close to godliness. See what I did there? They were amazing. Absolutely amazing. Oh how they've grown. Oh how WE'VE grown! It's trippy.

My brain has too many thoughts. I get sad when I think. Thus, thinking is evil.

I want to transfer to a school in New York...Bad idea? Probably. It's just a dream.

Is it summer break yet?

Arghoo Japan.

That's my favorite way to describe how I feel about my current situation in life.

I am so very bored.

I am just realizing how much I enjoy the music of the Dixie Chicks. They are tres talented. They also have SUBSTANCE. I miss Britney Spears. What happened to her?

With Hanukkah in three weeks and Christmas in a little over a month, it is now time to create a Chrismukkah list.

What I Want For Chrismukkah 2007

1. Coach purse (preferably signature one with red stripe)
2. Cute winter hat (so I can be like a snow bunny...except less annoying...or more, depending on your position)
3. Assorted jewelry (anchor necklace, dangly earrings, Chanel shizzzz)
4. Argyle socks
5. iPod (even though my father said no more)
6. DVDs (Six Feet Under, Queer As Folk, The OC seasons 3 and 4...)
7. Cashmere beanie
8. Ugg Mocassins (I swear they're not Ugg-like...or Ugg-ly...)
9. J Crew gift card
10. Urban gift card

That is all for now.

I Love A Boy Named Jesse, But Jesse Doesn't Love Me Back.

Oh what a tangled web we weave. Life is so dramatic.

On a lighter note, Britney spears has officially destroyed her career. It saddens me deeply. She was given a chance to redeem herself, and failed miserably. She used to be my hero. She had abs every girl wanted, and most straight men would have gladly had their way with her. I miss her.

Things That Are Currently Grinding My Gears:

1. My English professor
2. The fact that I haven't read Antigone yet and we'll probably have a quiz tomorrow
3. Everybody
4. My achy jaw
5. My life

Crushes are the bane of my existence.

I Am So Hip It Hurts.

I have just finished perusing my favorite purse lover website, The Purse Forum. It is muy fabuloso. I can drool over other people's Chanel bags that I can never afford even in my wildest dreams. Well, maybe in my wildest dreams. Anything can happen when you're tripped up on Tylenol PM. Mmmmm. Anyway, the beginning of the year hasn't been too eventful for me. For Britney Spears, unfortunately, she's just going downhill. I'll miss her. Don't pass out in clubs for God's sake, Britney! It's just not proper. But I still love her. My obsession with celebrities has gotten my mother angry. While doing my usual reading of Pinkisthenewblog.com, I came across "Cobrasnake," which I had already seen the name of on pictures of Mickey Avalon, my favorite glam rapper. Well, maybe the only glam rapper. He is way fabulous. Anyway, it turns out Cobrasnake is like this pseudonym for this photographer who some how manages to get really detrimental pictures of celebrities and their bitches. I was looking through his pictures, and ended up looking him up on Wikipedia. It said something about his intern, Cory Kennedy, who is a very young fashionista he happens to be dating. I googled her of course, and came across her blog. After cyberstalking her for a while, I have accurately absorbed her sense of fashion. What I didn't know about California was that the real party hoppers, the real fashionistas, the real "it girls," were simple unknown (to most) teenage girls. And they don't wear the Primp sweatsuits purchased at Kitson like Paris Hilton. Oh, no. They are scenesters. REAL scenesters. I was reading Cory Kennedy's blog and noticed her namedropping a dozen times at least. Oh yeah, I invited L.L. to the club and then we hung out (Lindsay Lohan). M. Barton was there. P. Hilton and Nicky blah blah blah. So there's this whole portion of L.A. that isn't clad in Lisa Kline, but rather in a mix of thrift store and couture. It's pretty interesting, when you think about it. These are the real people of the L.A. party scene. Professional partiers. Even Mischa Barton's barely legal little sister! Sheesh. All these realizations have gotten me knackered.