Posts Tagged ‘shopping

My bathroom drawers were realllllllly bothering me – the kind of bothering where even when I was watching tv, I would think “Those drawers are a mess. I should clean them.” Not that I got up and did anything, but it has been nagging me for awhile.

So today… a perfectly beautiful Saturday afternoon, I put some laundry in and got to work.


I mean, I know why. Because when I need one for travel, I can’t find the ones I already have because I put nothing back in its place, so I think I don’t have any and I buy a new one. Now I have 4.


Again, I know why. Someone was probably coming over, and I shoved it under the sink thinking I’d grab it later … and forgot. The Mint 3 Musketeers is fabulous, by the way. Just the right amount of mint.  Fuck yeah I ate it.

Third of all…. WHY DO I HAVE SO MUCH SHIT?!?!?!

Not just in my bathroom drawers. Everywhere: Clothes, shoes, accessories (including scarves, gloves, jewelery), purses, tupperware, glasses, silverware, magazines, luggage, bedding, paper towels, hair care products, books, souvenirs.

EVERYTHING. Turns out, I’ve been keeping the American and African economies going ALL BY MYSELF.  I’m the Queen of Clearance sales… but I need to learn that just because something’s cheap doesn’t mean it has to end up in my place. Because, really – I live alone. Do I need 4 full size tubes of toothpaste? Was the sale on 3 for $3.50 Crest REALLY such a good sale when I can’t finish them?? I barely manage to brush my teeth twice a day – it’s not like they’re getting used up. SIGH.

I’m embarrassed by how much I have, annoyed at myself for having it, and mad that I sound like a hoarder.

No more shopping. For anything. Those 2 Kate Spade bags I just bought (on mega-sale, of course)? THE LAST OF THEIR KIND.





I picked up some new tops over the weekend (yeah, my shopping moratorium lasted all of 1 day about 6 months ago) and realized my style is changing.

As previously noted, I have big boobs. In the past (and still sometimes late at night), they’re front and center, on display and ready for some fun.

But I’ve noticed that my shopping habits have… ‘evolved’ (for lack of a better word). I find myself buying things like this instead of this.  I don’t mind so much looking like Blanche* though 😉

I used to mess around with a guy who was about 10 years older than me. He still acted like he was a frat boy, which was part of the appeal, but 40+ acting like 20 is only fun for a few months. In any case, one of the strangest compliments he ever gave me (that anyone ever gave me) was: “You know, it’s really great you work out and keep yourself in shape. A lot of girls with boobs like yours would just rest on that fact. But I like that you still care enough to keep the rest of your body in shape too.”

Um… thanks? I promise that was word for word. Anyway – we were chatting about clothes and I pointed out that I wasn’t wearing stuff as low-cut as I used to (to be honest, it’s still in my closet, it just doesn’t make it on my body anymore… as much). He was appalled. He seriously asked why I wouldn’t “show them off.”

I have no problem showing them off. And when I still choose to wear things that are revealing, I don’t get offended when people look. I’m not one of those girls who’s gonna be upset that you’re checking out my boobs or ass. I actually get more upset if nobody looks. I’m not wearing this shit for myself!

But, the low-cut/tight clothing happens a lot less often than it used to.  Guys… the point of this stupid story is… I think I’m growing up.

*If I get to this point, however, feel free to stage an intervention

I bought these hotties at Target this weekend AND they were on clearance for only $15!!! WOO HOO! (Side note: The amount of time I spend in various Targets is ridiculous. Turns out they don’t all price things the same which means I find something at one store, then go to another and see if I can find it for less, buy the second one, return the first one and on and on. It’s like I have OCD to see if I can find the cheapest whatever I’m looking for. I love it. It’s my own personal game.)

So, I wore them on Saturday night for Cinco de Mayo with a super cute pair of short (but not too short) shorts and a 3-quarter sleeve blouse. I was adorable, if I do say so myself. And actually, I am only saying it myself. How sad.

I did get told I have great legs though – which is partly due to the 5-inch heel and the fact that by the time we got out, basically everyone else was already super drunk since they started in the afternoon. Nothing like frat boys and blonde girls in sombreros and fake mustaches doing their 7th tequila shot. Ole!

Anyway, my friend, A, picked me up at the beginning of the night and we had to park a little further than I expected, so I weeble-wobbled my way through the pothole-y streets and cobblestone-like sidewalk (because of all the cracks, not because Atlanta is fancy) and watching where I’m stepping cause the vomit was already out in full force.

And A is annoyed with me because I’m in my super high heels (which he hates) about 3 feet behind him and he’s wishing I would just hurry up. He’s Asian, I’m Asian…come on, I’m just doing my womanly duty by being behind!

We get inside to East Andrews, and seriously, we are the only sober people in the place. Just the two of us. There are, however, plenty of scantily clad women dancing together and falling all over each other and putting on quite a show. So we took a seat and watched.

There was a girl in front of us who had a phenomenal body. I could not stop looking at her. I pointed her out to A and his exact words were, “She’s ok.” OMG! She’s cute! She’s got a great body! She has a cute dress on! She can dance! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?

Him: “I start at the face, and if that’s a no go, nothing else matters.”

Apparently, he’s dating supermodels when we’re not hanging out.

So I point out a few more girls who I think are really attractive (and I get that everyone does not have the same taste in women) and none of them are up to his standards.

Then, he points out this girl who had a really large bag and goes: “I would never date her. Why do you need a purse the size of luggage?”

Which totally made me laugh and he’s right BUT HOLY FUCK. Could he (and all the other guys I was with that night) be more critical? It’s not enough that I have to do my hair and my make up and make sure I look decent, but I also have to worry about the purse I carry because that might turn you off?


So now, not only is he dating supermodels, but they must all carry their money, tampons, phones, cigarettes and condoms in a purse the size of the wallet. Which they then walk around with clenched inside their vagina so that nobody sees it, because god forbid it offends someone. And, they always wear flats.


I think I am going to take myself to the nunnery. And I’m going to wear these under my habit, because I also picked them up this weekend, at Target, for $15.  Booyah.

So much stuff. I have SO much stuff. I don’t know where it all came from. I mean, I know I bought it at some point, probably when it was on clearance, but why didn’t I stop!?!? I’m on an absolute moratorium from buying anything except food from now on. [UPDATE 2/21: My moratorium lasted for less than 12 hours. Went to DSW at lunch and ended up with 2 new gorgeous pairs of shoes… and then Ross on the way home and got 2 shirts. Sigh. My name is CurryLove and I’m a shopoholic.]

Since I’d been spending weekends at my family’s place, everything that used to be to properly put away somehow exploded into the bedroom, the living room, the guest room… everywhere. Just like I don’t know how it showed up in my flat, I also don’t know how it escaped from the drawers and closets, but it did.

Being heart-broken really leaves little energy for just basic ‘living’  – you know, doing laundry in a timely manner and then actually putting that laundry away. Washing the sheets. Cleaning the bathrooms. And since I wasn’t around on the weekends, the last thing I wanted to do for the past few months was come home from work and clean. Instead, I came home and ate and watched tv and cried and didn’t really do much else, and that is exactly how my place ended up a disaster zone and I gained a few pounds. Maybe more than a few… My stomach needs its own sports bra at this point.

I was out Saturday night with some friends and had invited this boy that I like. He’s fun and smart and cute and we met at Halloween, before British and I ended things, because again, I guess I always knew deep-down that I couldn’t put all my eggs in the UK basket. This one is also international, from Greece, and super cute. Also possibly super young if I’ve done the math right… there’s an approximate 10 year age difference, but  I haven’t asked how old he is and he hasn’t asked me. We’ve hung out a few times and I’m not really sure where it’s headed or if he’s interested romantically – I can’t actually figure it out.

Anyway, he met up with me and some of my friends at a local bar. My guy friends actually loved him, since he helped by playing wing-man for them.

My friend R was talking to Greek and he mentioned a few times, “Oh, me and CurryLove got back for so long! CL – how long have we known each other??  8 years about??”

Me, with Greek standing right there: “Yeah, just about”

As soon as Greek with to the bathroom, me to R: “Oh my god. Can you shut up about how long we’ve known each other?? I think he knows how old I am but we don’t have to reinforce it all night.”

So the night went on, and all 3 of my friends (2 guys and 1 girl (no pizza place) – and with that, I just dated myself even more) come up to me at some point and in an incredibly surprised tone say, “Wow. He’s really good looking!”

WTF. Why is everyone so surprised at how hot he is? I was slightly offended by the end of the evening.

The night ends, he walks me to the car and we hug goodbye. No kiss! No nothing! Now here is where it gets tricky – R had picked me up  and we’d gone to the bar together. I could’ve played my cards right and asked Greek to take me home.

But I didn’t… know why? BECAUSE MY PLACE WAS A FUCKING MESS! How can I be sexy and romantic with an incredibly hot guy when there are shoes everywhere, the kitchen’s a mess, my bed is half-bed, half-exploded closet? There was no way I could’ve shoved any of it anywhere, even if I’d wanted to.

Being lazy translates to everything, not just the messy flat. I hadn’t shaved ANYTHING for awhile. Legs haven’t seen the light of day in about a month (since Kenya), and I’m pretty sure that was also the last time they saw a razor. My cha-cha has been in mourning as well. Let’s be honest, British was the last boy I slept with and that was September. Enough said.

Basically, there was nothing clean enough, neither me nor my place, that would have let me bring anyone over.

I started working on this today so the next time opportunity presents itself, I can seize it by the balls. Literally.

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